The setting sun was red as blood.
Zhou Yi stood outside the entrance to the Demon-Slaying Bureau's underground caverns, breathing deeply in delight.
Sunlight fell across his face, his skin so translucently pale that the dark blue veins beneath were almost visible.
Zhang Cheng suddenly turned and said, "Since the Demon-Slaying Bureau was founded, you're the first executioner to come out alive. Someone once told me that mortals were the greatest makers of miracles!"
"I never believed it until I saw you. Put those immortal masters in Punishment Office Prison for ten years, and hardly any would survive!"
"I was simply lucky enough to meet Master Fahai."
Zhou Yi did not want to disillusion Zhang Cheng. Had he truly been a mortal, even Fahai's Wooden Fish could not have saved him.
Zhang Cheng reassured him, "It's all behind you now. Work hard, and this old man will teach you a stance-training method. Practice diligently, and I guarantee you'll live to a hundred."
"Thank you!"
Zhou Yi followed Zhang Cheng to the Demon-Slaying Bureau's dining hall.
Many Demon-Slaying Commandants greeted Zhang Cheng with respectful bows. Among them was Captain Zhu, who had once served a rotation in Punishment Office's Section A.
After eating and drinking his fill, Zhou Yi rose to take his leave.
He had spent ten years in the Capital, yet aside from the drafty People's Shelters, he had no memory of seeing any of its other sights.
Luo Capital took its name from the Luo River, which encircled it on three sides. Mountains sheltered its southern side, giving it a feng shui configuration of the highest order.
The Demon-Slaying Bureau stood on the outskirts of South City, in the Capital. Its surface grounds covered several dozen mu, while its underground Punishment Office Prison extended all the way to Martial Saint Mountain.
Zhou Yi strolled leisurely through the streets without using any techniques, heading wherever the crowds were liveliest.
It was the Lantern Festival, and with no curfew in the Capital, countless people had taken to the streets.
Shops lined the streets like fish scales and comb teeth, their entrances adorned with lanterns and festive decorations. The palace lanterns came in all manner of curious shapes, bearing riddles and verses that drew passersby over to admire them.
Young couples bargained with the vendors, while the bolder ones held hands or linked arms right there in the street.
Great Qian had Confucian scholars, but Confucianism did not reign supreme. The restrictions placed on women were far lighter than those in the ancient times Zhou Yi remembered.
Calls, sales pitches, the rumble of carts and horses, and the clamor of voices all filled his ears.
Surrounded by buildings steeped in antique charm, Zhou Yi drifted with the bustling tide of pedestrians, as though caught in an utterly lifelike dream.
He looked around blankly, unsure where he had wandered.
"Same Fortune Inn."
Noticing the inn's name, Zhou Yi smiled. A handsome young waiter stood at the entrance, welcoming guests.
"Sir, will you be dining or staying the night?"
"Staying."
"Please come inside!"
Copper coins and silver were the main currencies in Great Qian, with the exchange rate fluctuating around a thousand to one. Inns in the Capital were expensive; a night in a superior room cost roughly a hundred copper coins.
The waiter led the way. He actually possessed considerable martial skill, particularly in lightness techniques, and every step he took covered exactly the same distance.
Qi-Reading Technique!
A spiritual gleam flashed through Zhou Yi's eyes. Rosy mist hovered above the waiter's head, indicating good romantic fortune in the coming days. Unfortunately, a thread of black ran through it. One wrong turn, and that romantic blessing could become a romantic calamity.
The waiter bowed to take his leave. "Sir, I'll heat some water. Just call if you need anything."
Zhou Yi asked, "What's your name?"
"My surname is Bai, and my given name is Yutang."
"Don't go out over the next few days, especially to meet a woman. That's all. You may go."
Bai Yutang left looking bewildered, unsure what this strange man meant. He had been planning to visit the Six Gates that very night to see the woman of his dreams.
Zhou Yi's face was pale, his hair grayish white, and his clothes were of a peculiar cut and an unidentifiable material. He looked every inch an eccentric wanderer of the martial world.
Just then, more guests entered for a meal, and Bai Yutang immediately went over to welcome them.
It was already the third watch.
Zhou Yi abruptly opened his eyes. The window swung open without a breeze, and he transformed into a streak of sword light and flew out.
Not a soul was visible on the Capital's streets, as though the bustle from earlier had been nothing but an illusion.
The night wind swept past, sending fallen leaves fluttering. Occasionally, a watchman's clapper sounded, with faint calls warning people to be careful with fire.
The sword light slipped through the shadows, avoiding the officers on night patrol. Among them were experts in official robes, guarding against demons and evil spirits that might harm the people.
A short while later, Zhou Yi's streak of light landed atop an unnamed mountain peak a hundred li away.
The moon shone bright, the stars were sparse, and all was silent.
Zhou Yi stood suspended in the air and spat out the Purple Ying Sword. As he circulated ninety-five hundred years of magical power, the roar of mighty waves crashing against the shore resounded within him.
He had cultivated the Yellow Court Dao Scripture for nearly ten thousand years. Though increasing magical power was not its primary purpose, after ninety-five hundred years of cultivation, the quantity of power within his dantian already stood unrivaled beneath heaven.
The Purple Ying Sword trembled softly, then shot skyward with a sizzling whistle, transforming into a purple streak of sword light several dozen zhang long.
Zhou Yi had already regained his true appearance: sword-like brows, star-bright eyes, and a face like polished jade. His long hair streamed freely in the night wind.
Suspended beneath the deep blue heavens, standing against the radiant full moon, he resembled a banished immortal descending to earth-truly the very image of an esteemed reader.
"Sever!"
His fingers formed a sword seal, and the sword light slashed diagonally across the mountain peak.
Rumble!
The peak split apart. Its upper half slid cleanly off and shattered at the foot of the mountain.
The remaining summit was smooth as a mirror, its slight slant perfectly reflecting the full moon above.
For a moment, it was impossible to tell whether the moon hung in the sky or rested upon the mountain.
"Not bad at all."
Suppressing a smug smile, Zhou Yi waved the Purple Ying Sword back to him.
The Purple Ying Sword had been cooped up in the underground complex all this time. Even its rare outings for fresh air had been confined to cramped prison cells.
Now, after freely severing a peak with a single stroke, it trembled continuously in Zhou Yi's hand, radiating profound joy.
"I'll bring you out to run wild more often from now on..."
Before Zhou Yi finished speaking, he sensed several auras rapidly approaching. His figure flashed underground, and he departed using an earth-escape technique.
A short while later.
More than a dozen figures of differing appearances surrounded the severed peak.
Sword Qi from the Purple Ying immortal sword lingered on the peak, making their eyes sting even when they looked at it unaided.
"Sacred Monk Wuxiang, did you see who severed this peak?"
A white-haired Confucian scholar posed the question to the monk who had arrived first.
"Amitabha! This humble monk was cultivating in seclusion nearby and hurried over as soon as I heard the noise. I saw no one."
Wuxiang channeled his Buddhist power. Golden Buddhist light fell upon the severed peak, producing a sizzling sound.
Tiny strands of Sword Qi emerged from the mountain and resisted his Buddhist power. Yet the Buddhist light surged vast and mighty, while the Sword Qi was merely rootless timber. It was soon worn away.
"Sacred Monk, please stop. Don't destroy any more of the remaining Sword Qi."
The speaker was a swordsman in blue robes who looked only twenty or thirty years old. "Lord Wang, the Heaven-Connecting Sword Sect wishes to purchase this peak from the imperial court. We are willing to..."
A disheveled old Daoist interrupted him. "Pei Yu, this Sword Qi clearly comes from a Daoist sword-control technique. Why should your Heaven-Connecting Sword Sect have it?"
"What, does True Person Wuchen wish to cross swords?"
Pei Yu showed him no courtesy whatsoever. Devoted to the sword to the utmost, he had never cared much for social niceties.
The others, who were not well versed in the way of the sword, exchanged glances, unable to suppress their astonishment.
Pei Yu was the master of the Heaven-Connecting Sword Sect, born with a spiritually attuned sword heart. His ancestors had even produced a Sword Saint.
True Person Wuchen's background was even more formidable. He was a supreme elder of the Shangqing Luofu Sword Palace, one of the three great Daoist sects within Great Qian.
Great Qian's two great sword grandmasters were actually going to cross swords over a severed peak. How could this be?
A clash between the Heaven-Connecting Sword Sect and the Shangqing Luofu Sword Palace would affect Great Qian's stability to some degree. The imperial court would never permit it.
Wuxiang withdrew his Buddhist light. Carefully contemplating the changes within it, he found a trace of the Purple Ying Sword's aura.
"A supreme treasure of pure yang. This is an immortal sword!"
An immortal sword!
The white-haired Confucian scholar's expression shifted slightly. With a wave of his hand, a book descended onto the mountain peak.
"Mountain-Observing Classic."
As the book descended, layers upon layers of illusory mountains appeared, sealing the severed peak within them.
"Please stop arguing, both of you. This matter must be reported to His Majesty before any decision can be made!"
Before you continue