Chapter 3: You’re a hundred years too late.
The unheld longsword overflowed with killing intent. Yan Jingyu’s breathing hitched, and he could barely lift his head. He struggled to raise his face to look at Liao Chen, his expression one of alarm. “Benefactor, please listen to me. It’s not that I’m unwilling, it’s just that my situation is… special. I’m limited by the location, which makes it very difficult to fight you…”
Liao Chen pressed his elbow onto the Go board and leaned closer to him. “Special in what way?”
Yan Jingyu put on a troubled expression, but his mind was racing. Demons and devils of old were often obsessive, and the Liao Chen of his youth had always been hell-bent on taking his head. It could be said that the reason Yan Jingyu had distinguished himself so quickly among his peers back then had a lot to do with the other’s life-or-death style of attack.
But he had never imagined that after a hundred years, even after Liao Chen had reached the Demigod stage, he would still be so fixated on the outcome of their duel.
If he were to truly find out that Yan Jingyu could never recover his cultivation, he feared his blood would be spilled on the spot today.
“I’ll tell you my secret, but you can’t take advantage of my weakness.” Yan Jingyu looked as if he’d been pushed to the brink, adopting an air of reckless abandon. Liao Chen nodded. Yan Jingyu struggled for a moment more. “Get this crappy sword out of my face first.”
The ‘crappy sword’, possessing a spirit of its own, immediately began to hum and vibrate, its killing intent intensifying. Yan Jingyu felt a sudden lack of oxygen. Liao Chen waved his hand and forcefully cast a spell. “Retract.”
The ‘crappy sword’ struggled for a moment, but ultimately, it couldn’t defy its master and was forced to withdraw.
Yan Jingyu immediately got up from the Go board, raising a hand to rub his bruised neck. “You can’t be so rough with me,” he complained. “I’m completely powerless now. If I die by accident, then you’d be taking advantage of my weakness, the act of a villain!”
Liao Chen stated nonchalantly, “Stop pretending. No matter how much of a waste you appear to be, I will not let my guard down around you.”
Just how deep a psychological scar did I leave on you back then? Yan Jingyu pouted. “I need a place with abundant spiritual energy to display my full strength.”
“Reason.”
“Can’t you see that my body can no longer store even a trace of spiritual energy?” Yan Jingyu said. “You’ve inspected me from top to bottom several times, and Yu Qiuye has inspected me several times. Did he tell you that I’m completely ruined?”
Liao Chen gave a noncommittal grunt. “Continue.”
“I can no longer control the spiritual energy within my body, but I can borrow the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. The richer the spiritual energy in a place, the stronger I can become.”
Liao Chen looked at him with a hint of surprise, as if hearing of such a miraculous ability for the first time. He pondered this. “What level of strength can you display here?”
“This place… the spiritual energy is too thin. I can’t control it. My injuries back then were too severe, so…”
Before Yan Jingyu could finish, the world around them suddenly spun. He felt as if he were stepping on clouds. By the time he finally regained his footing, he found that the two of them, along with the small couch and low table, had been transported to an unfamiliar place. Here, the grass was a lush green and a river gurgled by, like a scene from an immortal’s paradise.
Liao Chen looked at him patiently. Yan Jingyu paused, then made a show of forming a hand seal, pretending to draw spiritual energy into his body. After a few moments, he gave up. “What is this place?”
“My Cultivation Oasis.”
Yan Jingyu’s eyes widened. “Your Cultivation Oasis? How could I possibly use the spiritual energy here? If I fight you here, wouldn’t I be doomed to lose?”
“You could also try to take it from me.”
“I’m already in this state. How could I possibly take it from you?”
Liao Chen fell into thought. Then, another dizzying spin. When Yan Jingyu sat up straight again, the scenery had changed once more. Giant trees towered over them, and strange flowers carpeted the ground. It looked like some secret realm.
Liao Chen said, “This is the location of the Demon Realm’s spiritual ley line. It is not my personal property.”
“No good,” Yan Jingyu said. “I’m not used to the spiritual energy of your Demon Realm. I’m not a demonic cultivator.”
Liao Chen stared at him fixedly. “Spiritual energy is born of heaven and earth. It makes no distinction between immortal and demonic.”
“But I do. In any case, this place won’t work. It doesn’t suit me.”
Liao Chen took him to several other secret realms. Yan Jingyu either claimed the place was incompatible with his cultivation techniques or that there were poisonous herbs that would affect his constitution.
After several attempts, Liao Chen seemed to see through something. “Where do you want to go?”
“…” Yan Jingyu didn’t answer. Liao Chen said, “If you don’t say, we fight right here.”
Yan Jingyu had no choice. “I’m most accustomed to the spiritual energy of Hutian.”
Liao Chen suddenly smiled. His eyes curved, and the corners of his lips lifted, showing no trace of a forced expression.
Yet Yan Jingyu couldn’t help but feel a surge of nervousness. The Liao Chen of his youth, though frenzied and cruel, had been relatively simple and pure. He didn’t know what the man had gone through in the past hundred years, but now, Yan Jingyu found it difficult to see through his thoughts.
“Hutian is a very big place.”
Catching his underlying meaning, Yan Jingyu’s mind raced. He ventured, with a hint of probing, “Yaoguang Valley.”
Yan Jingyu’s plan was well-laid. The journey from the Demonic Domain to Hutian was thousands of miles long and fraught with restrictions. Even with Liao Chen’s Demigod abilities, using teleportation techniques for the entire trip would require him to stop and regulate his energy. The fastest he could arrive would be three to five days. And in those three to five days, he might just find a chance to escape.
As he expected, Hutian was beyond the reach of Liao Chen’s direct authority. He rose from the table. “Let’s go.”
Yan Jingyu immediately followed, beaming. “Should I pack anything?”
“No need.”
“Right, you have a Qiankun Pouch. We…”
The moment they stepped out the door, Liao Chen suddenly grabbed his wrist. Yan Jingyu stumbled forward, and by the time he steadied himself again, the calls of street vendors filled his ears. He stood in an alley and looked up. Cloud bridges crisscrossed the sky like ribbons, among which sat countless buildings with high, upturned eaves. Some were small and exquisite, others grand and imposing; some floated on the clouds, while others were half-hidden within them.
Among these magnificent, dream-like structures, intricately carved pleasure barges drifted lazily, while sword-riding cultivators zipped past like the wind. There were even graceful pet sprites strolling along the celestial walkways with their masters.
This was the most renowned sacred sanctuary in the entire cultivation world, a place where countless immortal masters gathered: Hutian City.
Yan Jingyu stood frozen in place, his mind feeling as if it had seized up. He simply could not believe that Liao Chen had managed to travel from the Demon Palace to Hutian in a single instant.
Could the Demigod stage be so powerful as to allow one to teleport from the Demon Palace to Hutian in a flash? He didn’t believe it!
He turned to look. Liao Chen seemed to be casually putting something away. Although Yan Jingyu’s body was a wreck, his mind was still sharp. He said at once, “A Sumeru Mustard Seed?! Everyone says the Demon Palace is located in a great secret, impossible to find no matter how one searches the Demonic Domain. So you actually hid it…”
Before he could finish, Liao Chen grabbed him again. In a mere instant, Yan Jingyu was steady on his feet once more, looking at a giant stone cliff face. Carved upon it were the words: Yaoguang Valley.
Yaoguang Valley had four distinct seasons. It was now late autumn. Yellow leaves littered the ground nearby, while groves of maple trees blazed in the distance. A winding, clear stream trickled through the landscape, making it feel like a dream.
“Your home.” Liao Chen’s voice brought Yan Jingyu back to his senses. He collected himself and continued, “Everyone thinks you have to find the Demon Palace to find the Demon Lord. It turns out you have to find the Demon Lord to find the Demon Palace…”
“Cut the crap,” Liao Chen said, his tone harsh. “We’ve arrived at Yaoguang Valley. Don’t try any more tricks.”
As he spoke, the longsword at his hip shot out of its sheath. It leaped into the air, its crimson glow distorting the very space around it. Yan Jingyu was forced back a step. He looked up. The sword’s aura was brazen and wild, exploding outwards again and again, like an excited invitation, or perhaps an arrogant provocation.
This inanimate object, after all these years, was still so brazen. Yan Jingyu’s brow furrowed slightly. Liao Chen maintained his stern posture, but the power flowing from him felt as if it had the weight of a thousand mountains.
“‘Lian Feng’ is out. Now, if you would be so kind as to present ‘Du Fang’.”
Space itself seemed to stretch. Though they stood close, in an instant, they felt worlds apart.
‘Lian Feng’ was not living up to its name, which meant ‘Sheathed Blade’. Even though the entire sword was forged from the finest ‘Sinking Mountain Gold’, the space it distorted made it seem to tremble like human muscle.
Back then, even without him and Liao Chen, this crappy sword could have fought ‘Du Fang’ to a standstill. A hundred years later, the sword’s spiritual energy was even more potent. It had clearly ascended in rank along with its master.
And as for ‘Du Fang’…
“What is it?” Liao Chen’s voice was cold. “Are you going to let me win?”
‘Lian Feng’ pulsed with displeasure, and the resulting blast of sword light forced Yan Jingyu back several steps until his back hit the stone cliff. His chest heaved from the shock. He lightly licked the taste of blood from his lips and finally looked back at Liao Chen, stating frankly, “I lost it.”
The surging sword light abruptly retracted. If it weren’t still hanging in mid-air, one might have thought it had truly become a dead object.
Until Liao Chen scoffed, “‘Du Fang’ is your bonded artifact. You forged it with your own hands and made your name with it. The Immortal Lord is still here, but ‘Du Fang’ is lost? And you expect me to believe you?”
‘Lian Feng’, as if realizing it had been tricked, erupted with an even more violent glow. The piercing crimson light forced Yan Jingyu to raise a hand to shield his eyes. The taste of blood in his mouth grew stronger. His voice was weak. “Who said the Immortal Lord is still here? Liao Chen, can you really not see it? My entire clan was annihilated, my cultivation destroyed, my spiritual roots all severed! The claim that I could control the spiritual energy of heaven and earth was all a lie to deceive you! What kind of ridiculous miracle is that?!”
‘Lian Feng’ hung in the air, its light shrinking inch by inch.
Yan Jingyu lowered his arm, wiping the blood from his lips as he did. “You were so desperate to force me into a fight. Wasn’t it just to prove how ridiculous my ‘miracle’ was?”
“You have the Heavenly Mandate Eyes…” Liao Chen said, word by word. “You are treacherous and full of lies. Even your clan’s annihilation could be a fake.”
He seemed to convince himself. He raised his hand and gripped ‘Lian Feng’, his expression grim. “I don’t believe you’ve truly become a waste…”
The longsword thrust forward—
Yan Jingyu’s eyelashes trembled silently. He didn’t even have time to see how the other had moved, nor to wonder if he was truly about to die. When he came to his senses, he was looking directly into a pair of eyes as deep and dark as a bottomless pool.
‘Lian Feng’ was pressed against his neck, its body pitch black, no longer emitting any light. It seemed to be completely dead.
For a cultivator, once they embarked on the path of cultivation, their body would develop conditioned reflexes. Even in a state of complete unconsciousness, their spiritual body’s self-preservation instincts would activate.
But Yan Jingyu’s reaction was that of a fragile quail. When the sword was pointed at him, even as it was about to pierce his throat, his cultivator’s body showed no reaction.
Liao Chen’s expression was cold and stiff. He suddenly stared straight into his eyes, as if searching for something. “Hand over the Heavenly Mandate Eyes, and I’ll spare your life.”
“If I still had the Heavenly Mandate Eyes, how could you have injured me so easily?”
“Hand them over,” Liao Chen’s tone was vicious.
The blade pressed closer, a chill spreading from where it touched his neck, but Yan Jingyu’s expression remained calm. From the moment he saw Liao Chen, he knew his end was near. To be buried here in Yaoguang Valley with the rest of his clan was an unexpected blessing.
“You’re a hundred years too late.” He was fearless. “My Heavenly Mandate Eyes were gouged out long ago.”
