Just as Li Qingqiu was marveling at the terrifying ghostly aura sealed within the Soul-Refining Banner, a line of glowing text suddenly appeared before his eyes.
[Since this is your first time slaying a cultivator and proving your qualification to compete on the path of cultivation, you have gained one Dao Lineage Inheritance Reward.]
Not bad.
An unexpected reward!
Li Qingqiu's mood brightened immediately. He focused his consciousness inside the Soul-Refining Banner and saw countless vengeful spirits swarming within—dense as locusts, spinning endlessly in that pocket of space.
All those wraiths revolved around a massive blood-red sphere of light. The sphere looked like a gigantic egg, and inside it lay a terrifying ghost—an ancient evil whose presence alone radiated boundless malice.
Every wraith the banner had devoured was feeding strength into that ghost.
Even Li Qingqiu, now at the eighth layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm, felt a chill down his spine when facing its aura.
Good thing he had arrived early.
If he had waited any longer—if Master Jiang had managed to awaken that ghost—the consequences would have been unimaginable.
Li Qingqiu turned his gaze toward the corpse on the ground and cast the Soul-Binding Curse on Master Jiang's body.
When the imperial guards saw Master Jiang fall, following the same fate as the so-called Son of Heaven—decapitated by Li Qingqiu—they completely lost their nerve.
They broke formation in panic, fleeing in all directions.
A few bold prisoners, however, remained in the square, staring at Li Qingqiu with eyes filled with wild reverence.
True Person Qingxiao stood frozen in shock.
He had witnessed Master Jiang's terrifying power firsthand—an aura that had made even his own soul tremble.
After decades roaming the martial world, he had never encountered such a frightening opponent.
Yet that very monster couldn't withstand even one strike from Li Qingqiu.
'How… how did this kid cultivate such power? Could what Master Jiang said be true? Is he really a cultivator from the immortal path?'
True Person Qingxiao was filled with confusion but dared not speak.
He simply stood still, waiting quietly.
Li Qingqiu didn't immediately probe Master Jiang's memories.
He only captured the man's soul first—memory extraction could wait.
At his current level, capturing a soul was a trivial task.
He planted the Soul-Refining Banner beside him and ordered Nangong E to hold it.
At the moment, Nangong E was still digesting Zhao Zhi's soul; within her body, Zhao Zhi was suffering a torment beyond human imagination.
But Nangong E clearly feared the banner—her arm stiff, holding it as far away from herself as possible.
Li Qingqiu crouched beside Master Jiang's corpse and began searching.
At his waist hung a brown cloth pouch, sealed by a restrictive spell.
When Li Qingqiu sent his vital energy into it, the restriction blocked him.
He immediately removed the pouch and fastened it to his own belt.
Aside from that pouch, the man carried nothing but money.
Li Qingqiu stood and, with a thought, summoned Lin Chuan.
Then he turned to True Person Qingxiao, raised his hand, and swiftly inserted three silver needles into his body.
"Don't pull these out," he said calmly. "They'll help you recover your strength. Go back on your own—I still have matters to handle. We'll meet again at Qingxiao Sect."
With that, he tossed the money he had taken from Master Jiang to him.
True Person Qingxiao caught it, hesitated for a moment, then decided not to speak.
Seeing that Li Qingqiu didn't wish to talk further, he simply bowed and turned away.
Meanwhile, the ministers below the platform realized the situation had gone beyond control.
They tried to sneak out of the square, but before they got far, a group of prisoners surrounded them.
Screams soon echoed through the air.
Li Qingqiu glanced briefly in their direction, then ignored them.
Before long, Lin Chuan emerged from the ground.
Li Qingqiu let it jump onto his shoulder, then leapt upward.
His figure transformed into a streak of sword light that curved gracefully across the sky before vanishing over the far side of the imperial city.
The prisoners looked up, awe filling their eyes.
"That's a true immortal!" someone exclaimed.
Many among them were so moved that the thought of visiting Qingxiao Sect took root in their hearts.
'If Qingxiao Sect truly possesses immortal arts,' they thought, 'why bother practicing mere martial skills?'
…
Deep underground, in the dim palace beneath the city, the flames of oil lamps flickered faintly along the walls.
Grand Director Xuan Gong stood before a stone wall.
Hanging on it was a scroll painting—an emperor hunting with his ministers, the scene vivid and majestic.
He had removed his mask, revealing the face of Chu Jing.
Staring at the painted emperor, his eyes brimmed with nostalgia.
"Your Majesty," he murmured, "the world is about to fall into chaos again.
It's a pity your descendants are still too young to inherit the realm."
His voice was heavy with regret.
For decades, Chu Jing had schemed and maneuvered within the court of the Great Li Dynasty.
All of it had been for one goal—to restore the Great Wei Dynasty.
Looking back on those long years, he felt nothing but bitterness.
It was as though heaven itself was mocking him.
Thirty years ago, he had found a royal bloodline of Great Wei, but at that time, Great Li's rule was too strong, too stable.
Now, after so many years of plotting, the Great Li Empire was finally beginning to crumble—yet there was no suitable heir of Great Wei left to support.
That was why he had tolerated Zhao Zhi for so long.
He wanted Zhao Zhi dead, but not too soon.
Thinking of Li Qingqiu, his expression darkened.
He had to admit—if he ever wanted to rebuild Great Wei, Qingxiao Sect would be an obstacle he could never bypass.
He had visited Qingxiao Sect himself and sensed Li Qingqiu's ambition firsthand.
Qingxiao Sect was no hidden sanctuary for quiet cultivation.
It was a mountain poised to rise—only, Li Qingqiu had yet to reveal his ambition to his disciples.
Boom—
A thunderous sound erupted behind him.
Startled, Chu Jing quickly turned around.
From within the darkness, a shadowed figure slowly emerged.
When he saw who it was, Chu Jing's expression changed drastically. He couldn't help but shout, "Impossible! How did you find this place?"
The newcomer was none other than Li Qingqiu.
Li Qingqiu's face remained calm. "Someone's been following you this whole time," he said lightly. "You just couldn't see them."
Hearing that, Chu Jing's (Grand Director Xuan Gong's) heart went cold. His expression darkened as he gritted his teeth and said, "Li Qingqiu, do you still intend to kill me? You and I have no grudge."
"You bewitched the emperor and committed countless crimes," Li Qingqiu said as he walked toward him, voice like ice. "You think there's no grudge between us?"
Though Chu Jing's loyalty to Qingxiao Sect wasn't low, it didn't erase the sins he had committed.
If Li Qingqiu were to forgive him, he would be betraying himself—betraying his master and the brothers and sisters of Qingxiao Sect.
Chu Jing's face grew even uglier.
"Was it you who founded the Demonic Sect?" Li Qingqiu asked.
Chu Jing took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, the Demonic Sect was created by me. Back then, it was meant to help Zhao Zhi ascend the throne. But after he became emperor, the sect changed. He listened to that so-called Master Jiang and started seeking the Elixir of Immortality. He forced the Demonic Sect to abduct children to aid his search. I disagreed, but he was the emperor."
"With your strength, killing Master Jiang wouldn't have been difficult," Li Qingqiu said coldly. "Yet you allowed him to mislead Zhao Zhi. That means, deep down, you condoned it. At most, you just felt guilty about it."
"That's right," Chu Jing admitted. "For the sake of restoring the Great Wei Dynasty, sacrificing a few was worth it. Once Great Wei is revived, the world will know peace again. Li Qingqiu, ask yourself—does the Great Li Dynasty truly deserve your protection? Even without me, would there be less injustice in this world? The Zhao family—all of them, even their founding emperor—were ruthless schemers who would stop at nothing for power. This world should have belonged to the Nangong family in the first place!"
His voice grew more frantic and hysterical as he spoke, rage twisting his face into something grotesque.
Li Qingqiu stopped before him, now less than ten steps away.
"If you've got any last words, say them now," he said coldly. "After all, you were once a disciple of Qingxiao Sect."
Chu Jing's eyes widened in shock. He hadn't expected Li Qingqiu to know his true identity.
But as he thought about it carefully, he realized there had been no slip-ups, no exposure. He had barely even interacted with Li Qingqiu.
Then, remembering Li Qingqiu's unbelievable methods, he sighed in bitter acceptance.
With a pained laugh, Chu Jing said, "So I've truly lost. Tell me—are the techniques you use actually immortal cultivation arts?"
"Yes," Li Qingqiu replied plainly. "The arts of Qingxiao Sect are cultivation techniques. We don't practice martial arts—we cultivate immortality."
Upon hearing that, Chu Jing's eyes flickered with sudden realization, followed by deep regret.
For a fleeting moment, a thought crossed his mind.
'If I had joined Qingxiao Sect wholeheartedly and given up my obsession with power, if I had spent my life cultivating there… would my path have been different?'
"No wonder you could find me here," Chu Jing murmured. "Has Master Jiang been killed?"
"He and Zhao Zhi both died beneath my sword," Li Qingqiu answered.
Chu Jing's pupils shrank. "That man could command ghosts, yet you weren't afraid?"
He was visibly shaken. Just last night, he had witnessed Master Jiang summon vengeful spirits—he had nearly lost his mind in terror. It had shattered his understanding of the mortal world.
If ghosts truly existed, then would all the evil he had done someday summon endless vengeful spirits to haunt him?
Li Qingqiu said calmly, "I fear no ghosts. In truth, neither do you—you just don't know it yet."
Chu Jing frowned, unable to understand what he meant, but at this point, it no longer mattered. He gave a bitter smile. "So there really are cultivation arts in this world. The pill I took back then must truly have been an immortal pill. That means the so-called Heaven-Mending Grand Formation must be real as well."
"What's the Heaven-Mending Grand Formation?" Li Qingqiu asked.
Chu Jing replied, "It's a formation I found in a secret manual more than one hundred years ago. The formation uses the earth itself as its array diagram and can draw out the spiritual energy deep beneath the land. With it, the martial world in this region would flourish endlessly. I had planned to use the imperial capital as the formation's core, filling it with spiritual energy to elevate martial strength across the empire. But Master Jiang dismissed it with disdain and kept sabotaging me. Zhao Zhi also ignored me, obsessed only with his Elixir of Immortality."
Li Qingqiu's eyes lit up with interest. "Do you still have that manual?"
Chu Jing immediately pulled out a booklet from his robe and tossed it to Li Qingqiu. "I had a bad feeling last night, so I brought it with me. Since you're a cultivator, you'll surely be able to comprehend its secrets. Before I die, I have one request."
Li Qingqiu hadn't expected him to be so straightforward. Still, because of the formation, he was willing to listen.
"Speak."
"The last surviving bloodline of the Great Wei royal family has joined your Qingxiao Sect," Chu Jing said solemnly. "I ask that you take good care of him. The Zhao clan has been secretly hunting down the descendants of the Nangong family for years. Zhao Yan even killed one of the Nangong heirs I protected—that's why I moved against him. The boy is still young, ignorant of right and wrong, unaware of the world's cruelty."
He looked at Li Qingqiu with earnest, pleading eyes.
Li Qingqiu replied, "As a disciple of Qingxiao Sect, he will be protected. But his future—whether he walks the path of good or evil—will depend on his own heart."
Chu Jing smiled faintly, then closed his eyes.
A flash of sword light cut through the air.
Li Qingqiu swung once, severing his head cleanly. Blood splattered across the wall.
The severed head rolled to the ground, its expression frozen in a faint smile.