Sacred Demon Pill

The old man rose to his feet. After more than a year together, although he had never spoken with Gu Yuanqing, he had come to understand something of his temperament and knew these were not merely polite words.

"What is your name?"

"This humble one is named Gu Wenqi. I was originally..." The old man paused briefly, then gritted his teeth and spoke through ventriloquism. "I was originally a disciple of the North Spring Sword Sect. When disaster struck North Spring Mountain forty years ago, I happened to be visiting my family back home and escaped the calamity."

"A disciple of the North Spring Sword Sect? Aren't you afraid I'll report this to the Imperial Court?" Gu Yuanqing asked with a light chuckle.

Gu Wenqi bowed with a bitter smile, his voice emerging from his belly. "If you truly intended to do so, young master, I would likely have been removed from North Spring Mountain long ago. With your cultivation, my nightly trips into the mountains to search for the North Spring Secret Vault could never have escaped your notice. As for the Imperial Court, I fear they stopped taking me seriously long ago. Perhaps they already know my origins and merely wish to use me to find the North Spring Secret Vault."

Gu Wenqi understood the situation perfectly well. He practiced the Breath-Concealing Art, and whenever he dug tunnels, he used only his physical strength to avoid detection, never drawing on empowerment from his profound martial phenomenon or anything else.

But the Imperial Guard was stationed at the foot of the mountain, and its commander was an expert as well. It would have been perfectly reasonable for them not to notice anything over a short period. Now, however, more than a year had passed, and so many caves had appeared in the cliff face. For them to remain undiscovered defied common sense.

"I did indeed know. From the moment I came up the mountain, I noticed that you went to the cliffs every night. But I have no interest in what you're doing, nor any desire to meddle. We can each go about our business in peace. In consideration of your diligent service as a servant over the past year, I won't stop you if you wish to leave. If you wish to stay, you're welcome to do so. But if you want a method for becoming a Grandmaster, I have only one question: why should I give it to you?"

Gu Wenqi dropped to his knees again. "If I can become a Grandmaster, then once my great vengeance is fulfilled, this life will be yours, young master. I will obey your every command without a word of objection."

Gu Yuanqing's tone remained calm. "There are plenty of Grandmaster cultivation methods in this world, but how many people actually become Grandmasters? Even if I taught you such a method, there's no guarantee you could become one. And even if you did, what use would that be to me?"

Gu Wenqi fell silent for a long time, then kowtowed once more. "I overstepped. Please forgive me for disturbing you today, young master."

"It's no matter."

"Then I shall take my leave." Gu Wenqi stood, cupped his hands, and bowed. He backed away three steps before turning to leave. Once outside the courtyard, he drew a deep breath, suppressing his disappointment and desolation.

In truth, he had expected this. As Gu Yuanqing had said, they were neither kin nor friends. Why should he be given a Grandmaster cultivation method? It was already a tremendous stroke of luck that Gu Yuanqing had chosen not to pursue his clandestine activities on the mountain.

He had come because he felt uneasy and did not know what Gu Yuanqing truly thought. At the same time, he had wanted to probe whether Gu Yuanqing owed his cultivation to obtaining North Spring Mountain's Secret Sword. If so, perhaps Gu Yuanqing might offer him assistance out of consideration for his status as a disciple of the North Spring Sword Sect.

But clearly, Gu Yuanqing did not care about him at all. Every word kept him a thousand miles away.

Gu Yuanqing withdrew his gaze. For Gu Wenqi, a man at the True Martial Seventh Layer, to have fallen to his present circumstances, there might well have been something pitiable about his plight. But pitiable people were everywhere. Why would that alone be reason enough to teach him a cultivation method?

Whether he left or stayed afterward had nothing to do with Gu Yuanqing either. In the end, they were merely strangers whose paths had crossed, like duckweed drifting together on the water.

He glanced at the courtyard gate, and it closed on its own. Then he picked up his book again and slowly savored its contents.

In the Capital City, within the Gu Family Mansion.

The servants sweeping the courtyard whispered among themselves as they worked.

"Do you think that Gu Yuanqing on North Spring Mountain belongs to our Gu Family? I heard there used to be a young master born of a concubine who was also called Gu Yuanqing."

"Surely not? The man on North Spring Mountain killed a Grandmaster with a single sword strike. I've even seen the young master you're talking about. I heard he had little talent for cultivation. When he was granted his own holding and left the Prince's Manor a year ago, he was only an Origin Scholar."

"If only our Gu Family could produce a Grandmaster. Ever since that incident last year, when the Prince was stripped of his title, the Gu Family's standing in the Capital City has plummeted a thousand fathoms. Even servants like us get looked down on whenever we step outside the Residence gates."

"Shh, quiet. The steward is coming."

The Gu Family Steward, Peng Bingshan, entered the courtyard and cast a cold glance at the servants who had been speaking.

The servants all lowered their heads, silent as cicadas in winter.

Only after a moment did Peng Bingshan give a cold snort and leave. He passed through several galleries and arched gateways before reaching the rear courtyard.

White-haired and white-bearded, Prince Gu held a watering can, personally watering several of his favorite orchids.

After a while, he set down the watering can, handed it to a servant, wiped his hands, and dismissed the other servants. Then he asked, "How is Hongyu doing?"

The steward, Peng Bingshan, bowed. "The eldest young master's health has improved somewhat, but some loose-tongued servant passed the news about Young Master Yuanqing to him. He has spent these past few days drinking himself senseless."

"Useless wretch."

Peng Bingshan fell silent for a moment before asking, "Your Highness, should we do anything about Young Master Yuanqing? He now has an expert beyond Grandmaster backing him. If he were willing to put in a few words on behalf of the Prince's Manor, our circumstances would improve considerably. Over the past year, we've lost more than half the businesses under our management, and the household's expenses have been cut again and again. Several young masters and young madams have voiced complaints and approached this old servant repeatedly."

Prince Gu snorted coldly. "They've enjoyed fine clothes and fine food since childhood, and now they can't bear a slight reduction in their allowances? When I was young, I couldn't even get enough to eat, yet I never complained. Ignore them from now on. If they want money, tell them to come to me."

"This old servant understands."

Prince Gu continued mildly, "As for Yuanqing, that matter depends not on us, but on His Majesty. Oh, and from now on, give Yuan Ying a monthly allowance equal to that of the household's legitimate children."

In Hexi Province, in a valley more than a hundred li outside Shuntian Prefecture.

This was a base of the Demon Suppression Division. Corpses now littered the ground.

The burly man wiped the blood from his saber and said, still unsatisfied, "Is this all they had here?"

"Venerable, the Demon Suppression Division's men were all True Martial elites. There were over a thousand of them, and they had a Grandmaster Secret Artifact. Once they formed their battle formation, they could put up some resistance even against a Grandmaster. They only had such a force here because they needed to guard the Demon Cave Seal." The Crimson Dragon Cult Leader still could not conceal the horror in his eyes.

A single saber strike had shattered the Demon Suppression Division Battle Formation, even after they had activated their Grandmaster Secret Artifact.

Afterward, the Crimson Dragon Cult followers who had accompanied them had simply stood to one side, watching the burly man before them slaughter those thousand-plus men, one man and one saber.

People said the Crimson Dragon Cult's followers had lost all humanity, but what did they amount to compared with this man? He seemed normal enough ordinarily, but once he began killing, he became like a maddened demon. Nearly half those thousand-plus men had been cleaved in two at the waist.

"Then get moving. Set up the altar before their blood finishes draining. A thousand low-level True Martial Cultivators should barely be enough to condense one Inferior Sacred Demon Pill."