The next second, he cast aside those negligible emotions, and the information Wei Yuan had given him flashed through his mind.
His birth mother was called Ji Baiqing, the younger sister of the Lord of Qianlong City. She cultivated both martial and Daoist systems, being eighth rank Refining Qi, and seventh rank Qi Guiding. Twenty-one years ago, after returning to Qianlong City from the capital, she had been kept in confinement ever since, never taking a single step beyond her residence.
He took a deep breath, stepped into the courtyard, and gently knocked on the tightly shut door.
There was a moment of silence inside, then a gentle female voice came through, suppressing excitement and mixed with a trace of nervousness:
“Come—come in…”
In all these days, no one had ever visited this place. She had guessed who it was.
Xu Qi’an pushed open the door and entered. The first thing he saw was a wall hung with an ink-wash painting. On either side of the scroll stood tall stands, each holding a potted evergreen.
To the left was a four-panel folding screen, and behind it was a bath barrel.
To the right hung a bead curtain. Behind it were a round table and a bed. A woman in a plain-coloured dress sat beside the round table, while sandalwood incense curled upwards.
Her face was rounded, with an oval face suited equally to joy and anger. Her brows and eyes were exquisitely formed, though touched with faint sorrow. Her lips were full, and her hair was arranged in a high chignon.
She was no longer young, yet her beauty had not diminished in the slightest. It was easy to see that in her youth she had been a truly exceptional beauty.
If I’d inherited her looks, I wouldn’t have needed the pill of rebirth to improve my genes… While Xu Qi’an studied her through the bead curtain, the woman behind it was studying him too. Her eyes glistened, as if tears were about to shimmer out, and she said softly:
“Ningyan?”
That single “Ningyan” sounded incomparably natural and fluent, as though she had practised it in private countless times.
…
Xu Qi’an prepared himself, but still couldn’t bring himself to say the word “Mum”, so he merely gave a flat “Mm.”
Ji Baiqing looked a little disappointed, but then said with hidden hope:
“Come sit by the table and talk.”
“Sure.” Xu Qi’an lifted the curtain and sat down by the table.
Throughout the whole process, the woman kept looking at him, her gaze moving from his face to his chest, from his chest to his legs, looking him up and down, as if she wanted to make up in one stroke for all the glances she had missed over the past twenty-one years.
The pity was that no matter how carefully or earnestly she looked, she could never make up for those lost twenty-one years.
The two people who ought to have been closest, yet were also the most unfamiliar to each other, sat together. The atmosphere was inevitably a little stiff.
After they had sat in silence for a while, Ji Baiqing broke it with a sigh:
“When I gave birth to you, you were still wrapped in swaddling clothes. In the blink of an eye, twenty-one years have passed, and you’ve grown so big.”
Both joy and regret were in her eyes. In an age that prized the legitimate eldest son, the feelings ordinary parents placed upon their first child could never be matched by those for later children.
After thinking for a moment, Xu Qi’an said:
“Since you’d already fled to the capital back then, why did you return to Qianlong City?”
Ji Baiqing’s eyes dimmed and she said in a low voice:
“Xu Pingfeng stole half of the Great Feng’s national fortune. The Jianzheng only needed to kill you to return that fortune to the Great Feng. I was afraid the Jianzheng would discover my identity, so I didn’t dare stay long.
“Besides, I ruined Xu Pingfeng’s and the family’s great plan. They had to have someone to vent their anger on. If I hadn’t gone back, I might have forced them into desperate measures. By then, not only would you have been in danger, I might also have implicated Second Brother and his wife.”
Perhaps the Jianzheng had already been watching you from the Bagua Platform… Xu Qi’an nodded and gave another “Mm.”
Ji Baiqing looked at him. After hesitating for a long time, her hands silently clenched into fists, and she asked softly:
“Do you—do you hate me?”
Xu Qi’an considered it, then shook his head.
“I hate Qianlong City and Xu Pingfeng, but I don’t hate you.”
That single sentence made Ji Baiqing burst into tears. She cried, yet she smiled, as though a cherished wish had finally been fulfilled, as though a knot tied in her heart for many years had finally come undone.
“For twenty-one years, there hasn’t been a single moment when I didn’t think of you. But I was also afraid to see you, afraid you’d hate me.”
Xu Qi’an said in a deep voice:
“If I’d hated you, I wouldn’t have spared Xu Yuanshuang and Xu Yuanhuai in Yongzhou.”
“I know, I know…” she said, her face covered in tears.
A few minutes later, she steadied her emotions and wiped away her tears with a handkerchief.
“Now the Qianlong City branch has been devastated by death and injury, and the Yunzhou army has fallen apart. Xu Pingfeng and my elder brother can no longer rise again, so they finally can’t threaten your safety. But he’s still a second rank Arcanist after all. If you’ve driven him into a dead end, you must be on your guard.”
To speak of such a violation of human relations was, truth be told, something she was unwilling to do.
But between husband and son, she chose the latter without the slightest hesitation. The former had been a political marriage, and after all these years she had long since become utterly disappointed in Xu Pingfeng, even hating him to the bone.
Whereas Xu Qi’an was the son she had carried for ten months, her legitimate eldest son. Which mattered more needed no saying.
That was why, fearing Xu Pingfeng might secretly seek revenge, she had no choice but to warn him.
Xu Qi’an said calmly:
“He’s dead. The Qianlong City Lord is dead too. I killed them with my own hands.”
Ji Baiqing’s face went blank as she stared at him in a daze. A few seconds later, her voice trembling, she asked:
“Truly?”
Xu Qi’an gave another expressionless “Mm”, and then saw her expression shift from blankness to something complicated, an emotion hard to put into words.
A long while later, she asked in a low voice:
“What about Yuanshuang and Yuanhuai?”
“They’re being held at the Sitianjian,” Xu Qi’an said.
Silence followed again, and Ji Baiqing sat there in a daze.
Xu Qi’an took the opportunity to stand up.
“I’ll take you back to the manor tomorrow. Stay in the capital from now on. Auntie hasn’t seen you for twenty years.”
He felt his birth mother needed some time alone, time to bid farewell to the past and to mourn it.
Stay in the capital… At last, a glimmer of light flashed through Ji Baiqing’s colourless eyes.
Xu Qi’an left the little courtyard and headed straight for the Nightwatchers’ dungeon. In the dark, damp interrogation room, he saw Nangong Qianrou, his face gloomy and unsatisfied.
Beside the brazier lay a mangled, bloodied human form.
The various government offices across the capital were filled with Yunzhou army officers. Not everyone who surrendered could simply have the past wiped clean. In fact, even ordinary soldiers had to be tattooed and corvéed.
“Keep an eye on my birth mother. Don’t let her do anything foolish. I’ll come and fetch her tomorrow.”
Xu Qi’an looked at the beauty he had not seen for half a year.
To be honest, he really had forgotten Nangong Qianrou. The most troublesome thing about the art of concealing Heaven’s secrets was that it was connected to karma, while rank mattered rather less.
For example, if Sun Xuanji concealed some random passer-by, then even if Xu Qi’an were a Martial God, he still wouldn’t remember that passer-by.
Because he had no relationship with the passer-by at all, no karmic ties whatsoever.
Xu Qi’an and Nangong Qianrou had only been ordinary colleagues, their karmic connection too shallow. By contrast, an old hand like Song Tingfeng, on seeing the torture devices Nangong Qianrou had invented in the dungeon, might feel a slight sense of dislocation.
“What does that have to do with me? Whether she lives or dies is her business.”
Nangong Qianrou let out a sneer.
He was different from the others. He had witnessed Xu Qi’an’s rise and all his glorious feats, so the change in his mentality had come naturally enough.
In a short time, Nangong Qianrou still couldn’t bring himself to feel the sort of awe one would reserve for a god when facing this former little Silver Gong.
Xu Qi’an thought of how Nangong Qianrou had often mocked him in the past, putting on airs with his fourth rank cultivation, so he said:
“If anything happens to her, I’ll send you to the Jiaofangsi to receive clients. Even Duke Wei won’t be able to save you.”
Nangong Qianrou’s expression changed and he gave a cold snort.
Xu Qi’an left the dungeon, then went to sit in Spring Breeze Hall for half a quarter of an hour and drank tea with Li Yuchun. After that he went to find Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao, and arranged to go to the Goulan tomorrow to listen to songs.
…
Under the azure sky, an auspicious cloud drifted along. It seemed slow, but was in fact swift, and before long it finally returned to Mount Jing City.
Nalan Tianlu gazed into the distance at the desolate Mount Jing and sighed:
“Mount Jing ranked eighth among the paradises of Jiuzhou, rich in spiritual essence, with crossing ley lines. Before we marched to Shanhai Pass back then, this mountain had been lush and verdant, full of spiritual birds and beasts, with century-old jade ginseng in abundance.
“I never thought that when I returned to my homeland, it would have become like this.”
Back then, all the spiritual energy of Mount Jing had been drained clean by the Great Warlock Sarun Agu. It had originally been meant to empower Zhende and help him kill Wei Yuan.
Who could have expected Wei Yuan to summon the Confucian Sage and break the killing move?
Seabirds circled in the distance, gliding low over the sea, now and then diving down to catch prey from the water.
Dongfang Wanrong looked at the sparkling surface of the sea and said in surprise:
“There’s life in the sea again?”
The last time she had come to Mount Jing City was under orders to go to the Western Regions and escort the Rain Master Nalan Tianlu back.
Dongfang Wanrong clearly remembered that at the time, the near sea had been utterly dead. There had been no fish or shrimp in the waters, no birds in the sky.
Hearing this, Nalan Tianlu glanced at the sea.
Very soon, he lowered the auspicious cloud and brought his disciple down to the cliff by the shore.
Sarun Agu, dressed in a simple hemp robe, with white beard covering half his face, had already been waiting there for some time. Smiling, he said:
“Mount Jing City now has a master again.”
Nalan Tianlu had originally been the lord of Mount Jing City.
“Greetings, Great Warlock!”
Nalan Tianlu gave a bow, then went straight to the point:
“Has the Warlock God calculated the exact time of the great calamity? And the details as well?”
Sarun Agu gave a slight shake of the head and looked towards the tall altar in the distance, and the young man upon it wearing a crown of thorns.
“When the Warlock God breaks through the seal, all will naturally become clear.”
Nalan Tianlu asked no further, only saying with emotion:
“Xu Qi’an has actually advanced to first rank as a martial artist. Since Wuzong, the Central Plains hasn’t seen a first rank martial artist in five hundred years.”
At his side, the restrained and respectful Dongfang Wanrong could not help falling into a daze at those words.
The first time she had met Xu Qi’an had been on the journey to Leizhou, when her younger sister Dongfang Wanqing had clashed with him.
At the time, Xu Qi’an was sealed and couldn’t even beat Wanqing.
In four months, he had become a first rank martial artist.
Dongfang Wanrong felt as though she had witnessed history. For no clear reason, a sense of vicissitude and melancholy welled up in her heart.
Sarun Agu said:
“What I saw wasn’t wrong. Xu Qi’an is very likely similar to the Confucian Sage, a person born in response to fortune. This old man has lived for thousands of years, and I’ve never been able to understand the Central Plains. In this age, there are three such people born in response to fortune.”
Nalan Tianlu said:
“Which three?”
“Wei Yuan, Xu Pingfeng, and Xu Qi’an,” Sarun Agu said. “Of the three, only Xu Qi’an has reached this step. If he’d advanced to first rank martial artist half a year earlier, then in the battle of Mount Jing City, the Church of the Warlock God would most likely already have been wiped from Jiuzhou.”
Nalan Tianlu didn’t refute him.
Dongfang Wanrong was startled, then plucked up her courage and said:
“Great Warlock, is a first rank martial artist really that formidable?”
She found it hard to believe. Back then, the Church of the Warlock God had lost the battle of Shanhai Pass, and it hadn’t been like the Buddhist sects of the Western Regions, flourishing like blazing oil on the fire, with experts appearing in great numbers.
But the Church of the Warlock God wasn’t weak. It had two third rank Masters of Wisdom, and the Great Warlock, who was also first rank.
At this moment, she saw her teacher Nalan Tianlu’s expression suddenly change, and he turned his head to look at the high sky.
Dongfang Wanrong followed his gaze and saw a figure walking through the void step by step, as though climbing stone stairs.
An azure robe embroidered with cloud patterns fluttered in the wind. His hair was bound under a jade crown, cloud boots on his feet, his features handsome. He looked both like a noble young master and like an immortal banished to the mortal world.
Xu Qi’an… Dongfang Wanrong’s pupils contracted.
They had only just been talking about him, and yet he had appeared.
Sarun Agu narrowed his eyes and said flatly:
“What are you doing here.”
His tone was calm, and his voice wasn’t loud, yet Xu Qi’an, standing in the distant sky, seemed to hear him clearly and replied with a smile:
“I heard a first rank martial artist can flatten all the major factions, so I came over to have a bit of practice.”
H-he’s going to destroy Mount Jing City?! Dongfang Wanrong’s face turned deathly pale. Subconsciously, she edged closer to Nalan Tianlu, only to find her teacher’s expression incomparably grave, as though facing a deadly foe.
Xu Qi’an took a single step forward.
Buzz!
He slammed headfirst into a wall of qi. Everything within a hundred miles of Mount Jing City was resisting him, refusing him entry.
Sarun Agu pressed one hand to his waist and suddenly drew.
Crack!
A black shadow swept across the sky and lashed fiercely at Xu Qi’an, splitting open his azure robe and exposing the flawless white flesh beneath.
“Tsk, stings a bit.”
Xu Qi’an smiled. “Why don’t you keep going and see whether that God-beating Whip can lash my primordial spirit out.”
A first rank martial artist had long since merged essence, qi, and spirit into one. He no longer had any shortcomings. Warlocks and Daoists who specialised in the primordial spirit domain could forget about knocking his primordial spirit out.
He braced one hand against the invisible barrier, and the muscles in his arm suddenly swelled, bursting the sleeve.
Boom! His qi machine gushed out, destroying the “force” condensed by heaven and earth. Space was like a mirror, shattered alive by a martial artist’s brute violence.
The wild gale raised by that qi machine swept across Mount Jing, blowing Dongfang Wanrong straight away. The entire mountain shook violently, the mountainside split apart, and rubble tumbled down in torrents.
Crack!
Suddenly, the robe across Sarun Agu’s chest split open, revealing a whip mark. His pupils went slightly vacant, as though he had lost consciousness for an instant.
His primordial spirit had been shaken.
Xu Qi’an dived down like a meteor crashing towards Mount Jing City.
In the process, his chest suddenly caved in, displaying an exaggerated wound, but it recovered in an instant.
This was Sarun Agu launching a curse of death against him.
As a veteran first rank Great Warlock, injuring a martial artist of the same realm wasn’t a problem. It was just that with a martial artist’s terrifying endurance, this level of injury was the same as not being injured at all.
Sarun Agu thrust out his right arm and held it before him. In that instant, he seemed to merge with Mount Jing beneath his feet, becoming flawless, becoming indestructible.
This was one of a Great Warlock’s two major abilities:
First, borrowing the force of heaven and earth.
Drawing power from heaven and earth and turning it to one’s own use, and according to the different phenomena of heaven and earth, unlocking different states.
Borrowing volcanic eruption to surge like fire, borrowing storm and thunder to move swift as wind and lightning, borrowing mountain force to stand immovable as a mountain.
Boom!
Xu Qi’an didn’t slow at all. He smashed fiercely into Mount Jing, collapsing half of this main peak. The mountainside slid, and earth and rock fell in chunks.
Within Mount Jing City, figures rose into the air one after another. Warlocks fled madly, keeping far away.
They stared in fear at the collapsing Mount Jing.
Sarun Agu still stood where he was and hadn’t moved so much as an inch. It was just that when the mountain beneath his feet collapsed, he became suspended in the air.
At the instant the mountain force defence failed to hold Xu Qi’an back, he had used the Great Warlock’s second ability, assimilating with “heaven and earth” and leaving behind a projection where he had stood.
This was one of the finest life-preserving methods in the world.
Its flaw was that the number of times it could be used was limited. It couldn’t be cast endlessly. The interval between each use was three breaths, and after at most fifteen breaths, the true body would return to the projection’s location. At that moment, it was easy for a martial artist to lie in wait for the catch.
Even the Great Warlock can’t gain the slightest advantage before him… Dongfang Wanrong rode the wind and hid in the distance. Seeing this scene, her heart turned cold.
Rumble!
The altar began to tremble. From within the stone statue wearing a crown of thorns, a vast mass of black qi surged out and formed a vague human face high in the sky, looking down coldly at Xu Qi’an.
The distant warlocks knelt in worship in mid-air, shouting, “Warlock God, please slay the invader.”
Crack… Xu Qi’an rolled his neck, his bones cracking. He raised his head to look at the Warlock God in the sky and bared his teeth.
“Come on then, try and kill me.”
The Warlock God only looked down coldly.
Sarun Agu gave a sigh.
“Speak. What did you come for.”
“I’ve come to collect a bit of interest, and while I’m at it, ask after some information.” Xu Qi’an didn’t strike again, standing amid the chaos. “What is the great calamity? And what does your Church of the Warlock God know about the gatekeeper?”
Sarun Agu pointed at the face in the sky and smiled.
“If it’s those two questions, then go ask Him yourself. But if you want some other information, then I do have one thing here we can trade.”
Xu Qi’an gave no clear response.
Sarun Agu said:
“In the ancient era, there was a god-demon called Desolation. It was of the same rank as the Gu God, and it also survived that great upheaval. Its spiritual essence was damaged, however, so it disguised itself as a descendant of gods and demons and hid itself overseas.”
“Baidi is Desolation?” Xu Qi’an raised an eyebrow.
So “Desolation” isn’t a descendant of gods and demons, but a genuine god-demon, once of the same rank as the Gu God? No wonder Its true form was so terrifying, far beyond first rank… No wonder It cared so much about the gatekeeper, and about the so-called great calamity. It was because It had been a participant in that great upheaval… In that instant, Xu Qi’an understood many things.
“This bit of information isn’t valuable enough.”
Xu Qi’an loosened his limbs and said:
“Carry on!”
The crown of thorns atop the Warlock God’s statue suddenly flew up, turning into a streak of black light that landed on Sarun Agu’s head.
In an instant, the Great Warlock holding the God-beating Whip and wearing the crown of thorns seemed to become the ruler of this world.
He said with a genial smile:
“Very well!
“It’s been many years since I whipped a first rank martial artist. Have a taste of how Emperor Gaozu was whipped by me back then till he ran all over the northeast in a panic.”
Xu Qi’an smilingly took out a Confucian cap and put it on, a Sovereign Sword in his left hand and the Taiping Sabre in his right.
Then he said with a genial smile:
“Whoever runs is the grandson!”
…
The next day.
In the thin morning mist, Xu Qi’an left the Goulan in excellent spirits with Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao. Xu Qi’an mounted a pretty little mare with graceful lines, and the three of them headed together towards the Nightwatcher constabulary.
They had stayed the night at the Goulan, listening to songs, drinking wine, and watching performances. It had been a rare bit of leisure time.
He no longer touched ordinary women now. He was afraid of overtaxing beauties.
Zhu Guangxiao had paid the bill.
Song Tingfeng complained:
“The court hasn’t paid salaries for two months. Ningyan, if this keeps up, next time you’ll have to treat us.”
Xu Qi’an said expressionlessly:
“Oh. Then let’s not go to the Goulan any more.”
”…”
Song Tingfeng cursed:
“A dignified first rank martial artist, and you’re still this stingy.”
If going to Goulans means paying money, then half the fun is gone… Xu Qi’an ignored him, his mind still savouring yesterday’s battle with Sarun Agu.
“Ah, it’s really hard for first ranks to decide a victor, let alone life or death. Good thing he was the grandson yesterday, not me,” he muttered inwardly, then casually wiped his face and changed it back to Xu Erlang’s.
With his current identity and status, it definitely wasn’t appropriate for him to go to the Goulan any more.
Next time he planned to go wearing Second Uncle’s face.
After entering the Nightwatcher constabulary, he went straight to the little courtyard and saw his birth mother.
Ji Baiqing saw that he had come as promised, and smiled gently.
“I haven’t seen Xiaoru for twenty years. I wonder if she still recognises me as her elder sister-in-law.”
The faint sorrow between her brows had already dispersed, as though she had bid farewell to the past and been reborn.
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