Dead. Finally dead…
Xu Qi’an slowly exhaled a heavy breath. After such prolonged tension, what followed was overwhelming exhaustion, both of body and soul.
A series of fierce battles had left him in poor shape; especially the dragon-riding duel, which, for all its apparent ferocity and decisiveness, had really been a trade of wounds, kill one thousand, lose eight hundred.
Zhende’s counterattacks and the backlash from Broken Jade had left Xu Qi’an badly injured.
But it was all worth it, every bit of it.
Standing atop the spirit dragon’s back, Xu Qi’an gazed out at the vast land and exhaled again, letting out all the stifling pressure built up in his chest.
He stood in silence for a while, then tore a strip of cloth to tie up his loose hair, tidied his tattered robes, and bowed to the northeast.
Duke Wei, may your journey be smooth.
Duke Wei, may you still stand above all in your next life!
…
Dead, Father is dead… The Crown Prince stood on the ramparts, staring blankly at the far-off sky.
Scenes from the past flashed through his mind: his stern father seated high upon the dragon throne, his father’s harsh voice, his father in Daoist robes, his father ruling the court with absolute power. Such a father, who held power for nearly forty years, had been killed by a commoner. The Crown Prince… shed tears of emotion.
The Prime Minister, too, gazed into the distance, his face and eyes full of complexity, joy, sorrow, reflection, and heartache.
He stood dazed, unmoving for a long time, probably mourning the career that had ended with the emperor’s fall.
The officials wore complicated expressions, for a moment unable to speak, absorbed by the moment when the emperor fell.
Xu Qi’an had slain the emperor!
In six centuries since the founding of Great Feng, only Emperor Wuzong had ever cleansed the court, removing a foolish sovereign. Never had an emperor been slain by a commoner in the capital.
Yuanjing, or rather Zhende, was the first emperor in Great Feng’s history to be killed in the capital by a commoner.
The events of today would leave a bold mark in the annals of history, centuries, millennia from now, later generations would no doubt relish discussing this day.
From the sixteenth year of Yuanjing to the thirty-seventh, this story would be interwoven with Wei Yuan’s sacrifice, the destruction of eighty thousand soldiers, and the emperor who was obsessed with Daoism, at last cut down in the capital by the commoner Xu Qi’an.
As the ministers were lost in their thoughts, a sudden wail broke out.
Turning, they saw Censor Zhang Xingying clutching the wall, sobbing with old tears streaming down.
Former Wei Clique members, one by one, tears in their eyes, some bowed their heads to wipe them away, others raised their heads high, refusing to let their tears fall.
After a moment, even Zhang Xingying, who had lost control, and the other Wei Clique members did something shockingly bold in front of all the other factions.
They straightened their clothes, bowed to the northeast, then turned to bow to that man on the horizon, remaining there for a long time.
…
At that moment, elsewhere in the imperial city, Huaiqing stood in the wind, her pale robes billowing.
The breeze lifted her hair, brushed her beautiful, refined face. The princess slowly relaxed her clenched fist, letting herself exhale inwardly.
He had never let her down, brave, domineering, wise, capable of anything… This battle had many twists and worries, especially when the Sovereign Sword soared into the sky.
But Huaiqing had never believed Xu Qi’an would lose, because he never did.
He was a remarkable man; even she could only admire and respect such a man.
Huaiqing tucked her hair behind her ear. Unlike the tearful Crown Prince, her heart was stirred and heavy at the same time.
Zhende’s death was only the beginning, the real challenge was the aftermath.
That meant two things: first, explaining all this to the Central Plains.
That included the people of each province, all officials, all the armies, and the world of Jianghu.
For the people, the core issue was the “hearts of the people”, whether to be open or conceal the truth, both could lead to losing popular support.
For the army, it was much the same, keeping the soldiers’ morale was even more important than popular support, especially those in the north and the three northeastern provinces.
Those were the men most likely to mutiny.
Had Xu Qi’an lost this battle, the ten thousand-strong garrison at Yuyang Pass would certainly have rebelled.
The local governments all needed to be reassured, if they panicked, the people would too, and the Jianghu would seize the opportunity for chaos.
Second, a new emperor.
For the capital now, nothing was more crucial than enthroning the new emperor.
Without a new emperor, there would be chaos, especially after Zhende’s actions.
“The Crown Prince has finally made it,” Huaiqing mused, gazing at the dark crowd atop the Meridian Gate, her smile a mix of mockery and disdain.
…
“The dog emperor is finally dead!”
Li Miaozhen clenched her fist, both excited and elated, wanting to howl to express her joy.
But there was also a tinge of emptiness, the dog emperor was dead, and her youth felt over.
When the Holy Maiden of the Heaven Sect had first descended the mountain, her mantra was always:
One day, I’ll stab that dog emperor to death.
Now, two years had flown by, the dog emperor was dead, and she suddenly felt a strange emptiness, as if a chapter of life had ended.
Chu Yuanzhen said nothing, he was already in tears.
Ten years of a scholar’s ambitions, today, at last, his chest was freed of that weight.
Hengyuan pressed his palms together, head bowed in silence, as if remembering the junior disciple he’d once raised.
“If my dad knew the emperor of Great Feng had been killed, he’d be thrilled, he’d just think about war.”
Lina said, “He loves fighting, says the Great Feng’s women are the best, their clothes are the best, their houses are the best, everything’s the best. Everything should be taken for ourselves.”
Lina’s dad was a true Great Feng fanboy, it was just that his methods were somewhat unorthodox.
He admired the Great Feng’s culture, everything about it, so he wanted to take it all for himself.
…
“Useless, useless, useless!”
Standing atop a black lotus, the Daoist Leader of the Earth Sect roared furiously,
“Zhende is useless, forty years of cultivation, all for nothing. To be killed by a brat who hasn’t even trained for a year!”
He was clearly beside himself with rage.
Zhende had asked him to hold off Luo Yuheng, with the promise that, once things were done, he’d help him deal with Jinlian.
Heilian had long yearned for a complete soul. He hadn’t lost to Luo Yuheng for lack of skill, they were both peak transcending tribulation Daoists, no weaker than each other.
But his soul was incomplete, and the Daoist system’s greatest strength was in soul techniques.
Now, injured by Luo Yuheng, it would have been worth it, if only Zhende had won.
Instead, he’d lost everything, ending up worse off than before.
The Earth Sect Daoist Leader was furious to the point of explosion.
Luo Yuheng, her figure graceful and devastatingly beautiful, twirled her sword and said, “I’ve only been cultivating for thirty-four years myself, Uncle~”
Heilian’s face froze, Luo Yuheng was a generation younger, yet here she was, completely overpowering him.
He’d just mocked Zhende for wasting years of cultivation, and Luo Yuheng had instantly slapped him with the same.
In the next moment, like a lion goaded beyond reason, he roared,
“Don’t get cocky, don’t get cocky! Your aura is surging now, but your karmic fire is boiling underneath. It’s about to erupt. Let’s see how you survive this tribulation.”
Luo Yuheng had hidden herself in the capital for years, never acting directly, at most, using an avatar in her place.
That was because she needed to suppress her karmic fire through cultivation.
Now that she’d gone all out, the karmic fire she had always suppressed was sure to strike back.
After cursing her, Heilian paused, seeing Luo Yuheng give a radiant smile.
She tilted her head slightly, glancing toward the capital.
That man was now Rank Three, and had just slain Zhende. In both cultivation and bearing, he was now a true match for her.
…
Stargazing Tower.
Sarun Agu stood at the edge of the Bagua Platform, narrowing his eyes at the proud figure on the horizon. He let out a breath. “So half the Great Feng’s fortune is in him. That was your plan?”
The Jianzheng stood with his hands behind his back, shoulder to shoulder with him, and said quietly,
“Something like that.
“Zhende believed that with fortune on his side, I would not and could not touch him. That’s true, regicide would destroy a arcanist’s own foundation, and the higher your rank, the greater the backlash.
“Good or bad, as long as a sovereign sits the throne, he bears the fortune of the realm. For most high-rank cultivators, to slay the emperor is to take on that karma. No one would do it unless there was truly no other choice.
“Zhende was so confident, he thought he controlled everything. But he forgot: though cultivators above third rank would avoid it, I could always foster someone willing to do what they would not.
“A pawn can never retreat, but can still kill the king. He finally understood this truth, not a waste of all my gifts to him.”
Sarun Agu squinted, “So, Wei Yuan’s death was part of your plan too?”
The Jianzheng stretched out a hand, caught a wine cup from the air, and took a sip, replying leisurely,
“Wei Yuan sought death himself. What’s it to me? I just saw what was coming and made arrangements ahead of time.”
Sarun Agu let out a breath. “Did Wei Yuan know?”
The Jianzheng nodded and smiled.
“He worked it out. Otherwise, why leave the blood pill? He could seal the Warlock God with a clear conscience because he knew Zhende would die.”
He glanced off into the distance, sighing, “He even predicted what came after, that’s the only thing I didn’t expect.”
Sarun Agu frowned, he didn’t understand what the Jianzheng meant.
The Jianzheng smiled, “Don’t bother thinking about it, heaven’s secretes have hidden now, and it has nothing to do with you. You won’t divine a thing, Great Warlock.”
With Zhende’s fall, the duel between the two first ranks relaxed. The Jianzheng didn’t press the advantage; this was his domain, but to kill a warlock who’d lived thousands of years would mean turning the capital to rubble.
It wasn’t worth it.
Sarun Agu frowned and asked, “Did you shield his destiny?”
He meant Xu Qi’an.
The Jianzheng replied with a question, “Why do you ask?”
Sarun Agu was forthright: “Before coming to the capital, I divined a reading, Zhende’s sign was both auspicious and ominous, meaning he faced a great life-and-death calamity. But when I cast for Xu Qi’an, guess what I saw?”
The Jianzheng fell silent.
Sarun Agu revealed a strange smile. “A sign of great misfortune!”
…
Cloud Deer Academy.
With help from the students, Second Uncle Xu was loading heavy luggage onto the carriage, piece by piece.
There were antiques, paintings, bedding, clothes, household goods, a whole jumble of things.
The Xu family planned to move to Jianzhou, far from the troubles of the capital.
Since dawn, the whole family had lost their smiles and grown heavy-hearted. For Second Uncle and Auntie, the only comfort was that Xu Erlang would go with them.
That was good, at least the family would not be split up.
As for Dalang, the couple had deliberately not mentioned him.
Xu Erlang’s teacher, Zhang Shen, was in charge of seeing the family off to Jianzhou.
It was a long road, and the Xu family’s women were famously beautiful; though Xu Pingzhi was a seventh-rank martial artist, Refining Spirit stage, rather high up in the Jianghu, if they met well-organised bandits, one man alone might not protect his wife and daughters.
Martial artists were good at killing, but not so good at guarding.
One carriage, two carts, two horses, everything was ready.
Second Uncle Xu mounted his horse and clasped his hands in thanks, “Thank you, sir, for seeing us off.”
Zhang Shen nodded with a smile.
He was about to reply when he saw Second Uncle clutch his head in agony, his face twisted in pain, toppling from the saddle.
Zhang Shen was startled and leapt down to check on him.
“Husband!”
Auntie screamed, clutching her skirts, leaping off the carriage, she was just about to rush to her husband’s side when she suddenly stopped.
She raised her hands to her head, feeling stabbing pain.
“Dad? Mum?”
Xu Lingyue was stunned, at a loss, her lovely face full of fear.
“Mum!”
Xu Lingyin, her hair in two ponytails, saw her mother in pain and jumped from the cart, flinging herself at Auntie.
Auntie groaned and fainted at the collision.
“Mum’s dead, mum’s dead…”
Xu Lingyin howled and cried.
At that moment, Second Uncle recovered from the splitting headache, gasping, his face deathly pale, muttering,
“No, no, no…”
Zhang Shen frowned, glanced at the fainted auntie, then at Second Uncle, and tentatively asked, “Master Xu, what happened?”
Second Uncle ignored him, didn’t even glance at his unconscious wife, he leapt onto his horse and whipped it to a gallop.
Zhang Shen watched him go in shock, his mind replaying Xu Pingzhi’s expression as he left, angry and sad, and utterly despairing.
…
The capital.
High above the city, just as Xu Qi’an was about to ride the spirit dragon back into the city, the world before his eyes suddenly lost all colour.
It was like the picture on a black-and-white television.
His five senses were sealed, a martial artist’s instinct for danger vanished, this state lasted less than a second, and then everything returned to normal.
Xu Qi’an slowly lowered his head and saw a golden nail embedded in his chest.
Buddhist script was engraved on the nail. It had easily pierced through his Diamond body, piercing his jet-black skin.
“Ugh, ahhh…”
He heard a cry of pain, unsure if it was his own voice or Shenshu’s.
“Don’t scream, this is only the first one.”
A gentle voice sounded. A white-robed arcanist appeared before Xu Qi’an, holding eight golden nails between his fingers.
The white-robed arcanist picked up another nail and tapped it into Xu Qi’an’s crown.
Puff!
The nail pierced his Baihui acupoint.
Shenshu’s screams abruptly ceased, the black skin faded to normal, the radiance of the Vajra body dissipated.
Xu Qi’an’s aura plummeted, leaving him as weak as an ordinary person.
Comments for this chapter. You will need a GitHub account. Please follow all terms and conditions of GitHub issues and maintain etiquette in the comments. Cookies are required for this functionality.
If you want to talk with other readers about Nightwatchers (or other cultivation type books) you can join our cultivation groupreading discord server!
I also have a Kofi, which for legal reasons is definitely for supporting my digital art only (promise!): ko-fi.com/yanxin ... plus I guess server space isn't free, and I don't want to put ads/trackers... ever, so thank you if you do!