Volume One: The Turmoil of Yan and Yun Chapter Fifty-Seven: Murder on a Rainy Night (Part Four)

The ability to bend or to endure can be a virtue, but it can also be a flaw. In the days of the Great Tang, Emperor Yingzong, deceived by slander, personally led a campaign to Wolong Island in the South Seas. There, his army was defeated and he was captured. For twelve years he endured hardship and humiliation before he could return to his homeland in the Central Plains. Upon his return, he rebuilt his forces, ceased hostilities, nurtured the people, and revived the Dao. In less than ten years, he achieved a sweeping victory on the Weishui River, driving the demon clan back a thousand miles and expanding the Tang territory by nearly a fifth.

But not everyone who can bend and endure is another Emperor Yingzong, nor are all such people true men of character.

Dugu Zhe shook his head and gave a bitter smile, unsure how to respond to Feng Qi's words.

He certainly did not believe that Feng Qi would flee the field and leave him behind. On the contrary, he believed that before he fell, Feng Qi's corpse would surely lie between him and Chi Xia.

He might know little about Feng Qi, but he understood well what kind of man Feng Changkong was.

Feng Qi might not deserve to be called a true man; after all, he was careless and unconventional. But the openness and boldness that the Feng family had always cherished—the willingness to bear responsibility—were vividly present in him.

"Your Highness, there is not so much time for you to dwell in thought," Feng Qi suddenly said.

Dugu Zhe snapped back to himself and only then noticed the disturbance among the peddlers behind them. At first, he paid it no mind, but upon closer inspection, he realized that all those people had at least attained the Heartfelt Realm.

The intent of their weapons filled the air.

Dugu Zhe raised his brows.

"The Chi family is under Guangnan’s command. Our ancestors fought and bled for the human race, earning the title of Mad Blade by imperial decree," Chi Xia said in a low voice. "In our prime, including disciples of other surnames, the family numbered over a thousand. The name of the Chi family in Huainan was enough to silence the wailing of demon children at night!"

With that, he slowly rose to his feet, rainwater splattering as it hit him, and the air filled with killing intent.

"But look now—of those who still bear the Chi name, only a few ghosts stand before you. Some old, some young, scattered and weak—how can such remnants live up to the title of Mad Blade?" Chi Xia let out a long sigh and roared in anger, "A house full of loyal souls! Able to face the heavens above and Wuyang; able to answer to the earth below and the common people... Yet they are all dead, slain under a groundless accusation."

Feng Qi replied, "The Chi family brought chaos to Huainan, seeking to fish in troubled waters—there is ample evidence. It can hardly be called a groundless crime."

"You impudent child! How dare you speak such nonsense?" Chi Xia rebuked furiously. "Others may not know the loyalty of my great-grandfather, but I followed him from childhood—how could I not know?"

He swung his blade, cleaving a building apart.

That strike seemed to vent some of his resentment, and his voice gradually calmed. "History is always written by the victors, with the blood of the defeated! Your Highness has studied the Daoist Canon, and no doubt regards the so-called official histories as sacred. I do not blame you."

After a pause, he continued, "To be honest, I do not especially hate the Wang family. Every man for himself—who could fault them for wanting to bring us down?" Chi Xia’s tone suddenly sharpened. "But my clan served loyally for a thousand years, only to receive merciless slaughter from the royal house in return! Tell me, should I not hate, should I not seek vengeance?"

Only now did Dugu Zhe finally speak. "You say Chi Li was loyal, yet you bring up the Wang family at this moment. I have a few questions."

Chi Xia looked at him coldly and spat, "Ask."

Dugu Zhe said, "By your reckoning, was Duke Anle not one of the main reasons for the Chi family’s downfall?"

Chi Xia countered, "Was he not?"

Dugu Zhe said, "If the Chi family was loyal, then Duke Anle, who persecuted the loyal, must be a traitor, yes?"

Chi Xia fell silent.

Even he could not name a single fault in Wang Anle’s life. That man’s virtue and wisdom were lauded by the people of Huainan, and even the old emperor praised him.

A matchless statesman, a cornerstone of the dynasty.

Such praise could not be higher.

Especially when it came from the mouth of the old emperor himself.

"Even sages can be deceived by petty men."

"In that case, how do you know you were not deceived by your great-grandfather?" Feng Qi glanced in surprise at Dugu Zhe, thinking to himself, That’s a fine counter—reminds me of how I once bested my own father.

Dugu Zhe didn’t notice Feng Qi’s look, keeping his gaze on Chi Xia, his eyes full of sincerity.

The rain still fell.

Chi Xia did not reply. After a long pause, he slowly raised his blade.

A blade intent, sharp as thunder, split the rainy night.

Feng Qi gave a low shout and raised his spear before Dugu Zhe.

A chasm appeared between Dugu Zhe and Chi Xia, neither rain nor blade intent crossing its threshold.

Iron River Blockade.

The blade intent struck the spear.

There was a faint mark on the spear; Feng Qi frowned.

A burning pain seared his palm—the skin must have split.

He had no time to think further. The spear cleaved downward, and the pouring rain turned to a crescent moon.

Desert Severance.

The crescent moon appeared and was instantly shattered.

Desert Severance had not yet gathered momentum before it vanished.

Because the blade intent remained, lashing the Overlord Spear like a storm.

This blade was furious!

Chi Xia stood three paces away, hands behind his back, as though waiting for something.

He was not the least concerned that one of the top two on the Flowing Talent Roll would counterattack. In his eyes, those were mere tricks.

Even if their rankings were combined, he still stood seventeenth on the Azure Sky List.

His talent had never been mere talk, and he had over thirty years on them.

At the Origin Stage, one could absorb a weapon into the Vital Palace, nurturing it with blood and qi. After breaking through to the Heartfelt Realm, the Sea of Consciousness was born, the first wisp of Dao Insight merged with the weapon and formed Weapon Intent.

This was the insurmountable barrier between the Heartfelt and Origin Realms, and the reason why the former could so easily suppress the latter.

He stood in an unassailable position, to say nothing of the years of experience he possessed.

Feng Qi had only a few breaths before he would be defeated.

But he would not die.

Dugu Zhe would die, even with the Dragon Emperor Sword in his possession.

If the crown prince fell, the heir of Yanbei would remain.

With that man’s skill, it would be easy to frame Feng Qi for the murder.

Perhaps the Divine Emperor would not believe it—perhaps he would.

There were plenty of courtiers eager to bring down Yanbei.

Afterward, Medicine Valley would be destroyed, and the secret of the Medicine Spirit Body would reach the emperor’s ears.

The House of Weeping Blood would rise at the same time.

For the greater good, the Divine Emperor would summon the Lady of Yanbei to the capital.

She would die.

Yanbei would rebel.

The barbarians would invade through the Eighteen Passes.

Bohai would revolt.

The Flower Transference Palace would debate the Supreme Mystery.

The House of Weeping Blood would unsheath the Snow-Cloud Sinking Sword.

The Divine Dynasty would fall.

Only then would the Chi family’s vengeance be satisfied.

Thinking of all this, a smile crept onto Chi Xia’s lips—then froze.

A blinding flash of white split the rainy night.

A spear pierced the air.

Blade and spear intents clashed, and in an instant, defeat was decided.

Someone entered the fray.

Clad in rags, chest half-bared.

His left hand tucked into his robe, his right grasped a spear, the tip pressed to Chi Xia’s throat.

His long hair hung loose, his eyelids drooped, his shoulders slumped—even the overbearing spear seemed to droop.

Were it not for the overwhelming intent emanating from the spear, for the aura that chilled the soul, he would have been indistinguishable from a beggar on the roadside.

Yet Chi Xia’s voice was shocked and furious, louder than when he had berated Feng Qi moments before.

"Feng Juanlang! What do you think you’re doing!"

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