The autumn night was deep, its chill biting.
A hazy mist spread across the Yudai River.
Splash!
The oar stirred ripples through the clear water, steering the slightly off-course awning boat toward the bank. The journey had been steady enough.
Yang Lie stood at the bow, working the oar. The cold wind off the river carried moisture that soaked into his clothes, and he could not help muttering, "If only I had a drink."
As a trained fighter with strong bones and sinews, he could withstand a little cold and damp. But enduring it did not make him immune to heat and cold.
His gaze drifted toward the cabin. He badly wanted the wine flask in Wu Duxiong's hand.
Hong Yuan was no different. He was soaked through, and the chill pressed against his skin, but his thoughts grew sharper.
Master Qin had caught his attention. More precisely, it was the Blood Pact Talisman that occupied his thoughts. He turned slightly and studied the cabin for a moment, making sure Master Qin was still unconscious.
He edged closer to Yang Lie, hesitated, then asked quietly, "Brother Yang, what happened to Master Qin?"
"Master Qin?" Yang Lie glanced into the cabin, lowered his voice, and sighed. "He taught at a private school in the county. He's been friends with my uncle for nearly twenty years. He has an only son named Qin Ziyue..."
Master Qin and his wife had been childhood sweethearts, deeply devoted to each other. Sadly, when he was thirty, a sudden illness took her life. Grief-stricken, Master Qin never remarried. He poured all his affection into his only son.
Over time, Qin Ziyue grew spoiled and willful. Somehow, he fell in with all sorts of shady characters. Master Qin doted on him too much to discipline him with a rod, offering only verbal warnings. And as a schoolteacher, he could not watch him every moment...
Then, one day, Qin Ziyue disappeared.
Master Qin asked everywhere, reported it to the authorities, and exhausted every means of searching, all to no avail. At last, he turned to Yang Erhu for help.
So Yang Erhu is Yang Lie's uncle.
Hong Yuan's attention had plainly gone astray. He had thought the two might be father and son, or master and disciple.
Yang Erhu valued loyalty. How could he refuse an old friend who came to him weeping and begging?
Yet he was only a martial artist, with limited connections. Nearly a month passed, and he found no more than a few faint clues.
He feared that the longer this dragged on, the slimmer their hopes of saving Qin Ziyue would become. He immediately sent a letter to the Prefectural City for help, bringing Wu Duxiong and Yang Lie into the effort.
Together with Master Qin, the four of them spent enormous effort tracking down the so-called Jade Wutong Immortal Realm. That was how Yang Lie, and even Master Qin, came to risk their lives going undercover. Yang Lie spoke at length about the dangers, though he skimmed over the crucial parts with a few strokes of the brush.
"Brother Yang, your readiness to help others is admirable. I'm deeply impressed." Hong Yuan cupped his hands. "And thank you for your efforts."
"Ah, it's a long story!" Yang Lie sighed, his young face carrying the weariness of memories he would rather not revisit.
Hong Yuan suspected Yang Lie was hiding something. Three or four people could hardly have prepared all that lamp oil, much less smuggled it into a heavily guarded estate. But since Yang Lie did not bring it up, Hong Yuan could hardly ask.
Hong Yuan expressed sympathy for Master Qin's tragic plight, then set it aside. He had troubles of his own: he had bothered no one, yet somehow ended up in another world.
"And what is the Blood Pact Talisman?" That had been Hong Yuan's main reason for asking about Master Qin. Talk of talismans was bound to stir his imagination.
"Just a talismanic art. Once made, it uses the maker's own blood as a guide to locate a close blood relative..."
Seeing Hong Yuan's solemn expression, Yang Lie could not help smiling. "Brother Hong, you're a scholar. You've probably read too many miscellanies about immortals and strange creatures. The arts of this world aren't as wondrous as books make them out to be. The Blood Pact Talisman can only locate someone within twenty or thirty zhang."
He lowered his voice further.
"If someone's alive and within twenty or thirty zhang, there's no need for a talisman. It's only useful if..."
Yang Lie sighed again.
Hong Yuan promptly changed the subject.
The light boat rode the wind and skimmed downriver.
As they chatted, Hong Yuan learned more about Yang Lie. His father and Yang Erhu were brothers by blood and fellow disciples of the same school. Both had roamed the martial world in their youth. Now that they were older, one had bought property in the Prefectural City and lived as a wealthy gentleman, while the other had opened a martial arts school in the county.
As for Yang Lie's martial arts, his father had given him some guidance, but had not passed on his true teachings. Instead, he had chosen another renowned master to teach him.
When Yang Lie spoke of it, confusion mingled with a trace of resentment.
Before they knew it, the boat had traveled more than ten li. When faint lights appeared ahead, Yang Lie called softly, "Uncle Wu, Uncle, we're here!"
The awning boat eased against the bank. Yang Lie jumped ashore first and tied it to a wooden post with a rope from the boat.
Hong Yuan leaped down after him.
Wu Duxiong followed, then Yang Erhu came ashore carrying Master Qin on his back. They walked in silence through the night. The lights grew brighter, and the outline of a small town emerged ahead.
Up close, the town had only two streets, one running lengthwise and the other across it. The buildings lining them were low, almost all single-story, save for a two-story tavern and shop at the center.
The lights came from the tavern. Occasional shouts drifted out; even at this hour, a few people were still drinking and making merry. Coughs and dogs' barks sounded now and then from the surrounding houses.
Yang Erhu and the others knew the town well. Without disturbing anyone, they made their way around to the tavern's back door, where Yang Erhu rapped his knuckles against it.
Knock, knock, knock!
After a long pause, he knocked several more times in a measured rhythm.
The back door creaked open. In the dim light stood a short, wiry old man in a long robe, his face covered in wrinkles.
Hong Yuan saw him clearly. The little old man raised his clouded eyes and swept them over the group, lingering on Hong Yuan for an extra heartbeat. Then he lowered his head and coughed. "You're back."
"Let's talk inside."
Yang Erhu nodded evenly and led them in. Beyond the door lay a cramped service courtyard with several small rooms fit for sleeping.
Yang Erhu chose one. It held almost nothing beyond a table and a bed. He laid Master Qin on the bed, tucked the quilt around him, and shut the door on his way out. Seeing Yang Lie and Hong Yuan soaked through, he told the wiry old man, "Bring two sets of clothes. Clean ones."
"Of course. This old fellow will see to it." The thin old man nodded.
Yang Erhu motioned for him to wait, then said to Yang Lie and Hong Yuan, "You can't wear those robes outside again. Let the old gentleman take care of them too."
The thin old man reached out a dry, bony hand and felt Yang Lie's sleeve. Rubbing the fabric between his fingers, he grinned. "Fine silk. On the black market, these two robes would fetch at least twenty taels."
"They're yours. Bring me fifteen taels tomorrow," Yang Erhu said.
"Thank you, thank you!" The little old man's wrinkled face opened like a chrysanthemum.
Listening to them, Hong Yuan felt sharply torn. He knew money mattered, yet he had arrived in this world less than a night ago, and part of him felt none of it mattered at all.
The two feelings tangled together.
Yang Erhu and Wu Duxiong felt the contradiction too. They had just seen the women of the Jade Wutong Immortal Realm, with all their mystical posturing, spending money like water. Now they were haggling over a few taels of silver. It felt absurd.
They had considered taking valuables from the Jade Wutong Immortal Realm to sell. But they feared alerting their enemies. Worse, they might fail to recognize what they had taken and, trying to fence it, deliver it straight back into its owners' hands.
Robes were different. They could always be cut up and remade.
Hong Yuan and Yang Lie took off their robes, leaving only their thin undershirts. Each chose a small room. Hong Yuan's had an oil lamp but no flame. Since he could see in the dark, he simply lay down on the bed.
The room and even its bedding smelled faintly unpleasant, but Hong Yuan had no mind to complain. He had crossed into another world and killed in a sudden burst of violence. Now that he had relaxed, exhaustion settled over both body and mind. Despite his damp undershirt, he wanted to fall asleep.
He forced himself up and wedged the room's small table and wooden stool against the door. With a shift of thought, rows of tiny, fly-like characters appeared before him.
Hong Yuan fixed his gaze on the words "Blessed Land Dao Lord." The next moment, all the characters spun rapidly into a gray-white vortex.
He drew a breath and let his mind relax, allowing the pull of the vortex to take him. In the next instant, the scene before his eyes changed.
Whoosh!
When Hong Yuan opened his eyes again, he stood in a vast gray-white square. Yet he could clearly sense that his Fleshly Vessel remained in the tavern's small room. What stood here was merely a form shaped from his Thought.
Hong Yuan looked around. Beyond the gray-white square, white mist stretched in every direction, impossible to see through and deep as an abyss. Only directly ahead stood an enormous gray-white stone gate, seemingly embedded in the fog, faintly visible one moment and gone the next.
Nine steps descended from the gate, each as tall as a person. Hong Yuan walked toward it almost by instinct. But when he reached the first step and raised a hand to climb, a gentle force abruptly hurled him backward.
Thud!
Hong Yuan flew a long way and landed on the gray-white square. He was not hurt, though he had no idea how a body formed from Thought could be injured in the first place.
"What happened?"
As Hong Yuan wondered, the scene before his eyes suddenly changed.
[Blessed Land Dao Lord (Gray)—Beyond the Threshold: Hong Yuan (18)] [Root Bone: 2/100] [Comprehension: 2/100] [Talents: Qi Through All Bones, Clear Eyes Through the Nether]
The Blessed Land Dao Lord entry had changed. It now included "Beyond the Threshold." Hong Yuan looked at the square beneath his feet and the gray-white gate with its nine steps. He began to form a guess.
Then the stone gate trembled with a low hum. An ancient, weighty thought surged into Hong Yuan's mind.
A moment later, he absorbed the information, his expression shaken.
That stone gate—
More precisely, the realm behind it was called the [Taisui Blessed Land]!
Somehow, when he crossed into this world, he had become bound to the [Taisui Blessed Land] and become its [Blessed Land Dao Lord]. For now, though, it was only a title. To truly take his place within, he had to accomplish two things.
Taisui was the Taisui God, the Lord of the Year!
Within a given year, he held the greatest authority and the strongest might. Thus, he was also called the Son of Heaven of that year, leader of the gods.
The heart of that passage lay in authority and might!
For Hong Yuan to climb the nine steps, open the stone gate, and enter the [Taisui Blessed Land], he had to achieve both: reach the pinnacle of personal martial might, unmatched by anyone, and wield authority greater than anyone under heaven.
First in might!
First in authority!
A double champion!
Only then would he possess more than the empty title of [Blessed Land Dao Lord]. The moment he entered the [Taisui Blessed Land], his lifespan would become one with it. So long as the blessed land endured, he would not perish. He would live as long as heaven.
Even in a body of Thought, Hong Yuan felt his breath catch, as though his heart might leap from his formless chest.
Only after a long while did he slowly calm down. It was an enormous prize, but reaching it would be terribly hard.
First came authority. Great Yin had abolished the Civil Service Examinations, all but closing the path upward for commoners. To become an official, one would have to serve the great clans, powerful houses, or nobles like a dog.
Please those important people enough, and perhaps they would toss down a few bones and offer a chance at office.
But even if he became an official, dreaming of becoming a powerful minister and doing what Wang Mang had done was sheer folly.
Great Yin had reached a point where many prefectures and provinces were effectively controlled by regional powers. They obeyed the Imperial Court's edicts in name, but withheld taxes and turned imperial troops into private armies as a matter of course.
Linjiang Prefecture, where Hong Yuan now found himself, was one example. How else could a single prefecture support three garrison forces like the White Scale Guard, totaling more than ten thousand soldiers?
The idea of entering officialdom and climbing step by step to the very top had to be discarded. There was no way to change the system from within.
Even if he rose above every other minister, he would still have to conquer the realm and beat the nobles and warlords into submission before he could claim supreme authority and become emperor himself. Wasn't that just rebellion?
Martial might. Right now, personal martial might matters most!
No matter how large the prize, he had to stay alive to claim it. Only by growing stronger could he avoid being strangled in the cradle.
Fortunately, Hong Yuan could keep improving his Root Bone and Comprehension. Otherwise, claiming that prize would not be merely difficult; it would be all but impossible.
"Fighting and medicinal baths might both increase my Root Bone and Comprehension."
"So the goal is to build my strength and keep myself alive, then use that strength to seize authority. Only by closing my fist can I close my grip on power!"
"Might and authority as one."
As Hong Yuan pondered this, one question still troubled him: were there extraordinary beings in this world, and if so, just how far beyond ordinary humans were they?
With a shift of thought, Hong Yuan left the gray-white square.
"Initial contact with the blessed land's gate has elevated your mind and transformed your state of mind. Comprehension +2 strands."
"Hm?"
Hong Yuan's expression shifted. A cool sensation rippled through his mind, bringing back that clear, empty feeling. He looked at [Comprehension: 4/100], then sent his Thought into the gray-white square again.
Several breaths later, Hong Yuan opened his eyes in the dark room. Rubbing his chin, he sighed inwardly. As I thought, I can't keep raising Comprehension the same way...
Before you continue