Not a Pawn, but a Player

"Middle Thousand Provinces?!"

Upon hearing those three words, Jiang Yan's eyes lit up instantly, and he blurted out almost without thinking, "Yes!"

The answer came so quickly, without the slightest hesitation, as if he had already shouted it out a thousand times in his heart.

The moment the words left my lips, a long-forgotten memory surged into my mind.

He lost his mother at a young age, which made him a "bastard" in the eyes of the children in the small village, and he suffered endless scorn and bullying.

Whenever he was shoved into the mud, he could only clench his fists tightly and hold back his tears.

It wasn't until he was ten years old that his usually taciturn father, who drowned his sorrows in alcohol, touched his head in a drunken stupor and revealed the secret buried deep in his heart.

"Yan'er, now that things have come to this, your father will no longer hide it from you."

"Your mother is still alive, but she doesn't belong here. She belongs to a powerful clan from the Upper Realm; she was forcibly taken away back then. They said that mortals like me from the Lower Realm would only tarnish the Lineage bloodline..."

"It's all Dad's fault for being useless and unable to protect her."

The story of a young lady from the Upper Realm Lower Realm the Lower Realm, falls in love with a mortal, and is then forcibly separated from him.

Jiang Yan had read many of these stories, but when they actually became his own, he felt a chilling coldness and an indescribable absurdity.

The seemingly innocuous word "break up" in the book carries such weight when it comes to me.

From that moment on, Jiang Yan swore to the starry sky that one day he would set foot on that land, find his mother, and reunite his family!

He had thought this path would be long and arduous, requiring a lifetime of effort to climb.

But to my utter surprise, this long-awaited opportunity appeared before me in such an unexpected and abrupt way!

Thinking about this...

Jiang Yan's gaze as he looked at Qin Wangchuan was filled with barely suppressed excitement and longing.

Certainly.

He wasn't the only one who was excited.

Tao Ziyan leaned against the edge of the square, the excruciating pain in her leg and the previous despair seemingly vanishing.

She stared blankly at the ruins, her heart still trembling violently from the devastating blow she had just received—the instinctive fear of facing a powerful being from the Great Power of Upper Realm.

What followed was a profound shock!

The Veiled Maiden, who appeared to be about the same age as him, seemed like a Deity of the Crown Prince of Upper Realm in the most primal and violent way.

However, at this moment, her focus was not on that; another, stronger emotion was surging within her.

When her gaze, seemingly casually, finally fell upon the Green Robe Youth, her breath caught in her throat.

Yes, how could someone who couldn't take their eyes off it not have noticed?

He stood casually in the middle of the ruins, his Coarse Cloth Linen spotless.

Tao Ziyan had never met such a contradictory person—so close, yet seemingly high in the sky.

He was breathtakingly handsome, yet his pale golden eyes held a detached indifference that seemed to look down upon all living beings.

This is different from Xiao Duantian earlier.

A strange, unsettling feeling began to spread.

Who... is he?

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

Although the Crown Prince of Upper Realm died, strangely no one came to investigate.

Thinking of this, everyone became even more wary of Qin Wangchuan, the 'King Killer'.

They were treated as honored guests and served with great care.

Inside a Guanyun Pavilion perched on a cliff in the Biluo Holy Land.

This is the highest point in the entire Holy Land, offering a panoramic view.

As dawn broke, dappled light and shadow filtered through the intricately carved wooden window, casting a tranquil glow.

Qin Wangchuan leaned casually against the soft couch by the window, his posture relaxed and elegant.

He was dressed in a simple Green Robe, a stark contrast to the image circulating outside of him who could decide life and death with a smile.

Holding a yellowed ancient book in one hand, his gaze calmly swept over the ink marks on it;

His other hand hung casually at his side, his slender fingers gently stroking the Jiujiu that was curled up and dozing on his lap.

Its little head was resting on Qin Wangchuan's lap, and it was sleeping very soundly.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting shimmering light on the crimson feathers.

Her petite body rose and fell slightly with her breath, occasionally emitting a very soft, contented "gurgle" sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet pavilion.

Not far away, in front of the sandalwood zither table, Ye Jianwei like a lotus.

Today she was not veiled in White Veil; her eyelids were slightly lowered as she focused on the Seven-stringed Zither in her hands.

With delicate fingers plucking and strumming, clear and ethereal Zither Music flowed out like a mountain spring.

The Zither Music played at a leisurely pace, blending seamlessly with the scenery of clouds drifting by outside the pavilion.

What a serene and otherworldly scene!

No one who saw this would believe that this young man could decide the Crown Prince's life or death with a single word.

This young girl crushed Eighth Realm expert with a single stomp.

Outside the pavilion, Jiang Yan had been standing under the corridor for quite some time.

The boy clenched his fists; they were damp with sweat from holding the heavy books.

He never imagined that there could actually be someone in the world as beautiful as a fairy in a painting or Realm in Poetry, so beautiful that one feared even the slightest heavy breath would disturb the tranquility and cause it to vanish like a bubble.

Finally, he mustered his courage, tiptoed, and almost tiptoed into the house.

The air was filled with the faint scent of ink and books, the elegant sound of a zither, and a subtle fragrance emanating from the young girl.

He walked to the Rosewood Desk in the center and, extremely carefully, without making a loud noise, gently placed down the thick stack of martial arts manuals and copies he was carrying.

The book made only a barely audible "click" sound when it touched the table.

"Eldest Brother..." Jiang Yan lowered his voice, his tone filled with obvious respect.

After getting to know him, I found that Qing Wangchuan was very approachable and acted like a seasoned Eldest Brother.

So he simply called him "Eldest Brother".

Qin Wangchuan was not against it.

For the past three days, he has been sending over copies of cultivation techniques from his own Holy Land and those from surrounding Holy Land.

"This contains the core cultivation technique of the Biluo Holy Land, the Biluo Heart Sutra, as well as copies of well-known cultivation techniques from the surrounding Chiyan, Xuanshui, and Houtu Holy Land. Everything you could find is here."

Report complete.

Jiang Yan's gaze was first firmly captured by the misty, watery Dao Rhyme flowing between Qin Wangchuan's fingers, before finally settling on the ancient book in his hand.

<Biluo Cloud Art>!

He would never admit his mistake; this is one of the most important techniques of the Biluo Holy Land.

The four levels of Heaven, Earth, Black, and Yellow are ranked as the high-level Earth level, and can only be glimpsed by those who are not part of the core True Disciple.

But this rubbing was clearly delivered by him personally this morning... How could it have been comprehended to the point of manifesting Dao Rhyme in such a short time?

With this thought in mind, a strong sense of curiosity compelled him to ask softly:

"Eldest Brother, are you... looking for some kind of cultivation technique? Maybe I can help you!"

Qin Wangchuan closed the book in his hand, but did not answer immediately.

He unconsciously twirled his fingertips around the soft downy hair behind Jiujiu's ear, and the little guy snuggled comfortably against his palm in his sleep.

First, he closed his eyes and pondered, his long, thick eyelashes casting faint shadows beneath his eyes, as if he were deducing and digesting the profound mysteries of the myriad teachings he had just read in his Sea of Consciousness.

A moment later, Qin Wangchuan slowly opened his eyes, his pale golden pupils looking at Jiang Yan, clear and deep.

"No."

His voice was calm, but it wasn't an answer to anyone; it was more like a conversation with himself.

"Having read through a hundred schools of thought, I am not seeking anything, much less adopting anything from them."

"None of the myriad methods under heaven are my path. What I seek is to forge a unique path by fusing all methods together."