Chapter 39: The Villain with a Righteous Spirit

Description

At the mention of the “Dragon Palace,” the storyteller merely offered a knowing smile and said no more.

Clearly, the moment Bai Yao and the little Kun Spirit had achieved their Symbiotic Bond with the Evil Spirit, she had already gained access to many fragmented memories—the Dongming Dragon Palace being one of them.

Afterward, the storyteller watched Bai Yao carry Xiao Yunshan’s remains on her back, and let out a light sigh:

“Your journey has been fruitful, but you’ve also offended every major power in this small Xuan Kingdom.

A young friend of mine asked me to see you out safely.

But with the Old King on your back, slipping away won’t be easy.”

“He is the Old King, and he is my father.”

Bai Yao’s meaning was perfectly clear.

She didn’t care at all who wanted to see her out, and made it plain she would not abandon Xiao Yunshan’s remains.

“Rest easy. When you help someone, you help them all the way. I’ll step forward and make sure the Old King is laid to rest in the Xuan royal cemetery. I trust those two from the Xuan Yu Sect and the Hehuan Sect won’t refuse me face. As for you—are you truly not curious who asked me to see you out?”

The storyteller stroked his chin, somewhat admiring Bai Yao’s character.

“Who?”

Naturally, Bai Yao had no idea.

She knew nothing of Xiao Yi’s existence, just as Xiao Yi knew nothing of her situation.

How could such circumstances fail to amuse the storyteller?

But he had only promised Xiao Yi to safely escort Bai Yao out, and had no intention of revealing the truth to either party.

“You’ll find out one day—just not now.

Before this Cave Heaven collapses, I’ll quietly send you out.

Head north, follow the true Yuning River, and make for the Xu Kingdom.

These Southern Ridge Cloud Prefectures contain seven kingdoms, their territories vast and boundless.

Reaching the Eastern Sea’s blue expanse without immortal arts is all but impossible.

And in the Xu Kingdom, perhaps you’ll find the opportunity you seek.”

…

Ten days later, the Secret Realm fluctuations of the Cangjie Grotto-Heaven vanished from the Xuan Kingdom without a trace.

Yet what shook the cultivation world of Xuan from top to bottom was not the complete disappearance of the Cangjie Grotto-Heaven, nor the appalling sight of the fear that stretched a million li—but the fact that nearly all the royal clansmen, second- and third-rate sect disciples, and wandering cultivators had perished.

“Damnation! Who did this! Who set this trap to kill off the younger generation of every family and sect!”

“Even the dozen-odd royal clansmen who entered are all dead. What sheer madness!”

“Who stole the final treasure of the Cave Heaven and caused the Cangjie Grotto-Heaven to collapse?”

The matter caused an uproar.

From the mortal cities of the Fan Su Di to the family and sect disciples of the Ji Di, everyone flocked to the Xuan capital to demand the truth.

Even certain Human Immortal patriarchs who had long secluded themselves in closed-door cultivation were stirred from their retreats.

A few days later, the Xuan Kingdom’s two great sects—the Hehuan Sect and the Xuan Yu Sect—each released major announcements.

First came the Xuan Yu Sect.

Its Supreme Elder, Xuanzi, who had been in a life-or-death seclusion for over a century, suddenly emerged—and the very first thing he did was issue a sect-wide kill order:

“The Xuan Yu Sect’s former Saintess, Bai Yao, has slaughtered fellow disciples and betrayed her master and sect. The Xuan Yu Sect hereby issues a kill order: whoever slays Bai Yao shall be promoted to True Disciple!”

The entire cultivation world of the Xuan Kingdom erupted.

Bai Yao of the Xuan Yu Sect? Wasn’t she the Saintess who opened the entrance to the Cangjie Grotto-Heaven at the Southern City Altar of Chuyi City?

Could she truly be connected to the conspiracy behind the fall of so many cultivators in the Secret Realm?

But before a single day had passed, fresh news spread—a mysterious old ancestor of the Hehuan Sect had chosen this very moment to return!

Along with it came word that the Hehuan Sect’s Saintess, Liu Linglin, had survived the catastrophe of the Cangjie Grotto-Heaven.

Even though Liu Linglin had survived, she had lost all her cultivation and was practically reduced to a cripple.

Yet even so, she still managed to send a single message out through the disciples of the Hehuan Sect:

“Bai Yao, for her own selfish desires, not only harmed her fellow cultivators—she even sacrificed nearly every cultivator who entered the Secret Realm to unseal an Evil Spirit.”

These words struck like a stone cast into a thousand waves, for the survivors were not limited to Liu Linglin alone.

A royal Xiao clan scion who had also survived claimed he had personally witnessed Bai Yao slaughter more than a dozen wandering cultivators in succession upon a Black Stone Cliff.

Her methods were so bloody and cruel, her strikes so ruthless, she might as well have been a demon of the Mo Dao.

In an instant, Bai Yao became the target of universal condemnation.

“Find the demoness Bai Yao! Blood for blood!”

“And to think she was a cultivator who had cultivated Righteous Qi—turns out she’s a murderous fiend wrapped in righteousness!”

…

In the loft pavilion of the Hehuan Sect’s main hall, Cangjie Shangren, draped in a flowing water-blue robe, stood upon the high observation terrace, gazing into the distance.

Behind her stood the Hehuan Sect’s sect master, Nian Ruyan, and its great elder, Mo Wuyan.

Inside the chamber, Liu Linglin sat with vacant eyes upon a cushion, still as a porcelain doll devoid of emotion—just as the rumors outside claimed, her cultivation utterly spent.

“Ancestor, as you instructed, the rumors have been spread abroad…” Nian Ruyan reported respectfully.

“Good.”

Cangjie Shangren smiled faintly, her jade-white fingertips brushing aside the bangs that covered half her face, revealing her beautiful gray eyes.

“For the Hehuan Sect to digest the heritage of the Taigu Zongheng, what it needs most is time. And for that one to grow, she needs time as well. Since this Bai Yao has offended so many, we might as well pin every blame upon her head. Let her buy us the time we need. Perfect.”

She paused, then turned her head slightly toward a place a thousand li away on the horizon.

It was the Xuan Kingdom’s palace rear mountain—the royal cemetery.

Two tombstones stood there, inscribed with the names: Xiao Yunshan, the Xia King, and Xiao Yi, the Xia King.

At this moment, a woman clad in Hehuan Sect robes yet clutching a string of prayer beads stood before the two graves, her back steeped in grief.

Then, the beads snapped and scattered across the ground.

Wang Lihua suddenly collapsed to her knees as if all strength had left her.

Before the graves of the husband she had resented her entire life, and the son she had owed for a lifetime, she broke down in helpless sobs.

Cangjie Shangren withdrew her gaze, her expression unchanged, and said calmly:

“Mo Wuyan, what is the Saintess’s condition?”

“Reporting to the Ancestor, the Saintess’s cultivation has been thoroughly drained. Moreover, because her Heart Lake has run dry, her human emotions have nearly all but perished.”

Mo Wuyan reported.

“Hm. That is exactly as it should be.”

Cangjie Shangren gave a slight nod, then turned and walked before Liu Linglin.

Though Liu Linglin’s face was expressionless and her eyes hollow, her exquisite features—delicate as a painting, alluring yet ethereal—still held a beauty that could topple nations.

Cangjie Shangren crouched down, bringing her cheek close to Liu Linglin’s, and spoke in the tone of an elder patiently teaching a junior:

“Liu Linglin, you have endured the agonies of love and hate in the mortal world, and sacrificed all you had to birth an Evil Spirit. Your heart is dead. Your emotions are dead. But your will still lives. Do you wish to resume the immortal path? If you wish to tread the immortal road once more, to seek that beloved in your heart—nod to me.”

As if understanding the meaning in Cangjie Shangren’s words, a faint spark of spirit seemed to return to Liu Linglin’s deadened eyes.

Her lashes trembled almost imperceptibly, and as if mustering every ounce of strength left in her, she nodded to Cangjie Shangren.

“Excellent. The Hehuan Sect—no, the revival of the Taigu Zongheng is within reach.”

Cangjie Shangren rose with satisfaction, then produced a Jade Slip from thin air, sending it floating before Liu Linglin.

“[Wu He Wu Qing Dao]—the most enigmatic art among the Taigu Zongheng’s [Ben Jing Qi Shu], equal to the [Da Ri Tai Yuan Jue]. Liu Linglin, the you of now has already satisfied all the conditions required to cultivate this technique.”

…

At a harbor countless tens of thousands of li north of Chuyi City, a massive merchant ship pulled into port.

But because it was a vessel from the Xuan Kingdom, it was undergoing the most stringent inspection from the Xu Kingdom’s border guards.

None of this, however, had anything to do with a girl who had slipped off the ship and into the harbor with no one the wiser.

The girl was petite in stature, with a fair, delicate face—her features exquisite as a painting of celestial beauty—yet somehow, between her brows, there lurked an indescribable hint of sinister strangeness.

Her dark hair was tied into twin buns from which water-blue tassels cascaded.

A deep black long skirt trailed along the ground, its collar and lapels embroidered with silver thread in hidden patterns.

A black sash bound her waist, its silver buckle like a crescent moon.

Over it all, she wore a sky-blue wide-sleeved gauze robe, silver patterns flowing along the cuffs—and as she walked, it seemed as though rippling blue waves spread across the road beneath her.

The smile on the girl’s face was not merely improper—it was practically devoid of any familial affection whatsoever.

Anyone who saw her would assume this slightly sinister, childlike girl was likely some sort of Mo Dao cultist or Xie Xiu.

But no one would ever suspect that she was Bai Yao, concealing her presence with the [Ziyang Hidden Sword Art].

—Illustration: Bai Yao’s new appearance.—