Night fell, but the Qingxiao Sect was still ablaze with light.
Inside the Law Enforcement Hall, Chai Yunshang sat behind her desk, reviewing piles of reports. At present, there were over 4,000 people living on the mountain, and every day new conflicts and disputes arose. The workload of the Law Enforcement Hall was increasing by the day.
A young female disciple entered, carrying several scrolls in her arms. She placed them on the table before Chai Yunshang and asked softly, "Master, it's lively outside—almost like a festival. Everyone believes that the Sect Master will accomplish what he said. Do you think so too?"
The girl's name was Yu Lan. She looked young and delicate, her face gentle and lovely, though worry clouded her eyes.
She was seventeen years old, Chai Yunshang's disciple for just over a year, and already had reached the second layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm—a clear sign of her remarkable talent.
Chai Yunshang raised her eyes slightly. "Of course I believe in the Sect Master. Why don't you?"
Yu Lan bit her lip, hesitating before speaking. "The Sect Master's strength—I've seen it with my own eyes. But going alone to Zhenyang City… isn't that too reckless? He's not just facing the Emperor. There are the demonic soldiers, the Demonic Sect, and the Martial Enforcement Guards too…"
"The Demonic Sect's people are cunning and cruel. I can't help but worry. Even though Qingxiao Sect has many powerful elders and capable hall masters, I still feel that only when the Sect Master is here does Qingxiao Sect truly feel like Qingxiao Sect."
As she spoke, her eyes grew red.
Chai Yunshang didn't move. She looked at Yu Lan calmly and said, "Lan'er, you must let go of the past. You've been in Qingxiao Sect for some time now—you need to learn to trust this sect, and trust the Sect Master. He will slay the Emperor, and Qingxiao Sect will destroy the Demonic Sect. Your parents and brother will be avenged."
Before joining Qingxiao Sect, Yu Lan had already become an orphan. The Demonic Sect had killed her parents while trying to capture her younger brother. Only she escaped. Later, she heard that the Demonic Emperor had been slain by Qingxiao Sect's Master, so she crossed provinces to find the sect. On her journey, she endured countless hardships and even killed to survive. Because of this, she was far more mature than others her age—always cautious, always considering the worst outcomes.
Yu Lan wasn't the only one like that. Many Qingxiao disciples carried scars of tragedy. Some had family executed by the government, some hunted by clans or sects, and others had grown up as beggars.
After arriving at Qingxiao Sect, they cultivated with hatred in their hearts. None truly believed the world would ever be fair. Even though Li Qingqiu was strong beyond measure, they still feared that everything they had now would one day crumble like a dream.
Yu Lan hesitated under her master's calm but unyielding gaze.
Chai Yunshang lowered her head and resumed reading the documents. Her voice was soft but firm. "If you can't even wait three days, then you're not worthy to be my disciple, nor to call yourself a disciple of Qingxiao Sect. Leave the mountain, find a place to hide, and spend your life trembling in fear."
Yu Lan trembled at her master's words. The sting in her chest left her speechless. She bowed deeply, then turned and left without another word.
After the door closed, Chai Yunshang lifted her gaze to the window. The moonlight reflected in her eyes, serene but heavy. Though her tone had been calm earlier, her heart was far from it—there was worry beneath her composure.
She recalled that night, years ago, when she had once pointed her sword at Li Qingqiu.
"This time too… you'll succeed, won't you?" she whispered.
——
Li Qingqiu's departure left many disciples restless that night. Some were filled with hope. Others couldn't shake their anxiety.
At that very moment, he sat upon a tree branch, idly spinning the Flying Fish Blade in his hand, quietly sharing the moonlight with his disciples far away.
The silver light illuminated half his face, leaving the other half in shadow.
From the darkness beside him drifted Nangong E's ghostly figure. She hovered gracefully nearby, her voice soft and clear. "Master, what are you thinking?"
Since becoming a ghost servant, she had regained her consciousness. Like Lin Chuan, she could now speak like a living person. Even with her restored memories, she still held deep reverence for Li Qingqiu.
"I was thinking," Li Qingqiu said, "after killing the Emperor… whether the chaos that follows will only bring the people greater despair."
Though the Emperor was wicked beyond measure, the empire's structure still kept the provinces in order. When true anarchy came, the common people would face a disaster that no one could escape.
Nangong E floated gently through the air, her expression tranquil. "Before I died, the Great Wei Dynasty was collapsing. There were rebellions everywhere. I also wondered—if my father the Emperor died, what would become of the people? But looking back now… after my father's death came a new emperor. After Great Wei fell, a new dynasty rose. No matter what happens afterward, the people now simply wish for you to slay the Emperor with your own hand."
Though invisible to others, she stayed close to Li Qingqiu and saw the world clearly.
Zhao Zhi's atrocities shocked her. Never in the histories of her lifetime had an emperor descended into such madness.
Li Qingqiu smiled faintly. "You're right. I was only thinking aloud. Now that I'm here, I won't turn back. Killing the Emperor isn't just for the world's sake. More importantly, it's because he threatens Qingxiao Sect. I must end him."
Nangong E nodded seriously. "The truth is, this Emperor threatens every soul in the world. If you stand up against him, the world will owe you a debt of gratitude."
Li Qingqiu closed his eyes. "Tomorrow, you and Lin Chuan will fight as well. It'll be the perfect time to test your progress."
He had long taken an interest in the Ghost Dao. For Nangong E and Lin Chuan, he had devised a cultivation plan and even developed methods that allowed ghost servants to attack in daylight. He was eager to see how much they could achieve in real battle.
At his words, Nangong E's expression brightened with anticipation. Compared to the dull life she once led as a princess, her existence as a ghost servant now felt vivid and full of purpose.
The night wind carried the faint scent of blood. The forest was utterly silent—no insects, no rustle, only stillness.
After a long while, Lin Chuan emerged from the depths of the trees. He landed beside Li Qingqiu and began recounting what he had seen and heard within the city.
When he finished, Li Qingqiu's lips curved into a cold, amused smile.
The kind of smile that promised death was near.
The moon sank as the sun rose, and the first ray of dawn split across the distant mountains, spilling its light over the towering gates of Zhenyang City.
Atop the city gate stood rows of soldiers clad in armor, their spears glinting cold in the morning light. Behind them loomed the silent figures of the Martial Enforcement Guards, each one masked with a hideous ghost face, their presence heavy with menace.
Following the sunlight's path into the city, one would see that the once-glorious capital of the Great Li Dynasty had become desolate. Every household had its doors and windows tightly shut. The tall buildings, inns, and shops stood lifeless, their streets eerily silent.
At the city's center was a vast open square, where a massive platform, over ten zhang wide and long, had been constructed. Along the edge of the platform stood thick crimson pillars. Each pillar bore a bound corpse—dry, shriveled, and all female.
A black banner stood in the center of the pyre atop the platform. Even as fierce flames roared beneath it, the flag did not burn. Instead, it fluttered wildly in the wind, defying the fire that licked its base.
Soon, black-armored soldiers poured into the square, encircling the high platform in a tight formation. Then came the Martial Enforcement Guards, escorting a line of prisoners.
The prisoners wore ragged prison garments, their bodies covered in blood and filth. Thin as skeletons, their steps wavered with exhaustion. They were forced to kneel before the burning black banner, their heads lowered, eyes empty, their spirits long dead.
Moments later, a flurry of footsteps echoed up the platform steps. Leading the group was Emperor Zhao Zhi himself, followed by Immortal Master Jiang, Xuan Gong, and a host of ministers and guards.
Zhao Zhi's face was dark with anger as he paced back and forth atop the platform. He wore his imperial robe embroidered with dragons and a golden crown that gleamed under the morning sun. His expression was stormy, but the imperial aura around him was oppressive and fierce.
He stopped suddenly, hands clasped behind his back. "Xuan Qing," he said coldly, "which one of them is True Person Qingxiao?"
Xuan Gong pointed toward one of the kneeling prisoners. "That one, Your Majesty—he is True Person Qingxiao."
The man he pointed at looked frail and withered, a hunched old man of seventy or eighty, weak and trembling.
Zhao Zhi glared down at him, eyes blazing with fury. "Boil him alive!" he shouted.
"Your Majesty, no!" Xuan Gong quickly stepped forward. "At this stage, you must not act on impulse!"
Immortal Master Jiang, now dressed in flowing white Daoist robes, stroked his beard with a chuckle. "Indeed, that would be unwise. These thirty-six people are the finest ingredients for the ritual elixir. Not one can be spared. Though they are aged and drained of power, their bodies have been tempered by decades of cultivation—their bones and sinews are perfect for refining medicine."
Zhao Zhi drew in a deep breath and turned his gaze toward the city gates. His eyes were cold, his voice sharp. "Dawn has come. I want to see if Li Qingqiu truly dares to appear before me!"
As he spoke, he raised his hand to rub his forehead. Ever since his primordial spirit had been injured, blinding headaches often struck him, and each time, his mind returned to one name—Daoist Baishu.
Though he had already chopped Baishu into minced flesh and fed it to dogs, the mere thought still filled him with rage.
Immortal Master Jiang smiled faintly. "Whether he comes or not, today marks the start of the Heaven-Mending Ritual. If he dares to appear, even better—it will provide an additional prime ingredient. If the rumors about him are true, then he stands second only to the Martial Legends themselves. Such a body is a rarity in this world."
Xuan Gong added solemnly, "One hundred thousand imperial troops have been stationed across the city. Three thousand Martial Enforcement Guards and ten thousand Divine Guard soldiers are lying in ambush. Should Li Qingqiu set one foot into Zhenyang, he'll never leave alive."
One of the old ministers blinked in surprise. "Isn't this excessive? To mobilize thousands of troops for a single martial artist?"
Others immediately chimed in with laughter and flattery, mocking the so-called Jianghu hero and praising Zhao Zhi, proclaiming that His Majesty would surely attain immortality today.
Zhao Zhi's expression softened. Their praise pleased him. The anger in his chest slowly melted away.
He turned and watched as the Martial Enforcement Guards carried a massive bronze cauldron onto the platform. His eyes glowed with a feverish light. Just the thought that today he would prove immortality sent an uncontrollable thrill coursing through his veins.
At the edge of the platform, Xuan Gong silently stepped back, his eyes hidden behind his mask narrowing slightly as he glanced toward Immortal Master Jiang—cold and watchful.
——
Meanwhile, atop the southern city gate, a general with a sword at his waist stood before his troops and roared, "The Qingxiao Sect is located in Guzhou! If Li Qingqiu truly dares to come, he'll enter through this gate. Everyone, keep your eyes open! If he gets past us, we're all dead—not just us, but our families too! Do you understand?"
"Understood!" the soldiers shouted in unison, their voices thundering across the walls.
Several hundred zhang away, hidden among the trees, a group of martial artists crouched low behind the thick trunks, watching the heavily guarded gate with grim faces.
"That Li Qingqiu ruined our plan. Damn him!" a female warrior hissed, clenching her fists in anger.
Another man, middle-aged and steady, spoke quietly, "Though Li Qingqiu's fame spread far after slaying the Demonic Emperor, this move of his is reckless. Even if he truly plans to come, he's only alerted the entire city. Foolish."
A few others muttered in agreement, their tones mixed with fear and frustration.
"If we don't go in soon, our Sect Master's fate will be sealed!"
"Should we force our way through? Once we're inside, we can hide somewhere."
"Are you insane? With so many troops? That's suicide!"
"If we're going to try, we should wait until nightfall. They'll relax their guard after a full day of vigilance."
They had been lying in wait for days, looking for a way to infiltrate the city. But the previous night, one of them had overheard the soldiers speaking—they learned that Li Qingqiu intended to enter Zhenyang City alone to kill the Emperor.
They had all thought he'd lost his mind.
Just as they were whispering among themselves, footsteps approached from behind. The group turned quickly.
Out from the shadows stepped a young man dressed in a blue robe, a sword hanging at his waist. His face was calm, his features refined—more like a scholar than a warrior.
Without hesitation, the blue-robed man walked straight past them toward the city gate.
"Hey, are you insane?!" a short, broad-shouldered warrior hissed. "You'll die if you go near the palace right now!"
The young man paused only briefly. "I have an appointment to keep."
"An appointment? With who?"
"To kill the Emperor."
The words left the short warrior frozen, unable to speak.
As the blue-robed man stepped out from the woods, one of the women gasped softly, her eyes wide in disbelief. "Could that be Li Qingqiu? He's… so young."