Chapter Seventy-Five: The Resolve for Revenge

Kunwu Sword—such a name, Hantan Yi was naturally familiar with. The events in Qilian Inn of Jinjiang City were still vivid in his memory. It seemed this matter was indeed the handiwork of the Blue Lotus Sect. At this point, even if Hantan Yi still wished to defend Shui Linglong, he could not utter a word in her favor; he could only choose silence, standing where he was and watching the old man’s actions. The Daoist of Destiny slowly covered the body with a white cloth. He had always carried a sorrowful air, and this moment was no exception. As his hand moved, a faint tremor betrayed his age, fitting for one of his years. When the cloth was about to cover the face, he paused briefly, speaking slowly yet resolutely: “Rest assured, Brother Dongfang. Since our families are bound in friendship, and the Blue Lotus Sect and Dao Tianfeng share an irreconcilable enmity, I will personally slay the Blue Lotus demon. Whether she was the Water Lily of the past or the Shui Linglong of today, it will be either her death or mine!”

Such absolute words rarely bode well, especially when spoken by one as steadfast as the Daoist of Destiny. Hantan Yi, already ill at ease, felt his heart grow heavier at these words. His gaze lingered on the old man, watching his final gesture. In his heart, he thought: Enough, enough. Though the Shui mother and daughter saved my life, it was because of Old Du. If not for him, I would never have reached the Blue Lotus Sect, and what followed would not have happened. Besides, I only promised not to reveal the Blue Lotus Sect’s secrets. Now that they have brought this upon themselves, they cannot blame me. Since I have vowed to forget, if I meet them again, I will act as if we are strangers—there is no need to trouble myself with guilt. Yet Master, in his advanced years, is no longer the man he once was. Shui Linglong aside, Water Lily still lives. Back then, it took the combined strength of the Four Heroes to defeat her, and Donghua was lost because of it. Now, with Dongfang Valley Master struck down, only two of the Four Heroes remain. Even Donghua Gate’s Shao Changchun is skilled, but he is no match for his father. If it comes to a direct confrontation, it will not benefit Master. Yet the old man’s resolve is unshakable; changing his mind is impossible. Even if he does not seek revenge, the Blue Lotus Sect will not let this go. Would that not leave us exposed and at a disadvantage?

Such thoughts left the young man deeply troubled. Yet, anxious as he was, he could not think of a solution. At that moment, Daoist Tianji rose to his feet, his posture straight and tall. The earlier tremor from grief was gone, replaced by determination on his face. Hantan Yi understood; the old man was resolute, ready to risk all for justice. There was no longer any burden in his heart, and he had returned to his original state—perhaps even more so.

“Master, if you truly intend to strike against the Blue Lotus Sect, what should we do next? Elder Dongfang’s skills rivaled yours, yet he fell to poison. Clearly, the Blue Lotus demon’s martial arts are formidable. I fear you are not assured of victory. We must not act rashly; careful planning is needed.” Hantan Yi spoke as a disciple of Qilian, but when he mentioned Shui Linglong, he hesitated. To his eyes, it was clearly the work of Water Lily, but to these veteran martial artists, Water Lily had died sixteen years ago and could not possibly return. If he mentioned Water Lily, the old man would surely question it. Better to err on the side of caution. Yet calling her Shui Linglong felt like an injustice, and the youth could not bring himself to say it. Thus, after uttering “Shui,” he paused, omitting the latter part. The meaning was clear enough, and Daoist Tianji understood. The old man, focused on the larger picture, paid the wording little mind. His expression grew more grave at Hantan Yi’s question. Indeed, he had to proceed with care.

“We will go to the square and discuss there. It seems Old Shen’s martial gathering is necessary. He is a selfish man—if they elect a martial alliance leader, that post must not fall to him. Whoever becomes alliance leader and unites all the martial artists of the land, then no matter how powerful the Blue Lotus Demon Sect is, it cannot stand against the entire martial world!” Daoist Tianji was not one to hesitate. After a brief pause, he already had a plan—this was the best course for Dao Tianfeng. Hantan Yi nodded in agreement. Once a decision was made, there was no reason to linger; the martial gathering was ongoing, and time was pressing. If Shen Wansan seized the opportunity, it would be difficult to claim the alliance leadership, no matter the reason. Yet, as Hantan Yi turned to go, his eyelids twitched involuntarily.

It was odd, but he had no time to ponder it. He followed Daoist Tianji’s brisk steps out, their destination being the square. Unbeknownst to them, at a certain distance, if one looked back, one could clearly see Qiu Wan’er perched atop the eaves. The girl pressed herself low, trying to make herself less conspicuous. Yet it was unnecessary; no one would look up at the roof in such circumstances. Soon, Hantan Yi and Dao Tianfeng disappeared from her sight. Only then did the girl sit up, sighing softly: “What a bore, truly boring. I thought I’d catch some excitement. I’d better hurry back—maybe the martial gathering will be more interesting.”

The eaves were high, but for someone of her martial background, not a challenge. With a leap, she descended, spiritual energy paving the way, her figure swift as the wind. At Mingyue Manor, aside from those on special duty, nearly all servants and disciples had gathered at the square. Such a grand event was rare—who would not want to join the excitement? Even those with tasks grumbled inwardly about the unfairness, striving to inch closer to the square; even if they could not see, hearing the sounds was reward enough. Since her meridians had been cleared by Zola Weiyang, Qiu Wan’er found herself brimming with spiritual energy and, even after exerting herself, felt little fatigue. With this newfound strength, she felt a surge of gratitude toward the mysterious elder from the Western Territories.

“How is it, what’s happening?” She asked twice in quick succession. The sea of people in the square provided excellent cover; she no longer worried about attracting attention with her movements. Where others might struggle to move in such a crowd, Qiu Wan’er’s petite frame allowed her to slip through any gap. Moreover, while her skills were not top-tier in the martial world, she was gifted, and Qilian Sect was a leading force. In the square, few were stronger than she, especially with her newly opened meridians. With a few agile movements, she returned to her previous spot, barely settling before asking urgently.

“It’s not over yet. The old man just finished talking about electing an alliance leader or something—I didn’t quite understand. See for yourself!” Qiu Wan’er’s question was somewhat nonsensical, leaving most unsure how to answer. But for Zola Weiyang, it was nothing. He glanced at her briefly, then returned his gaze to the platform, his words calm. To him, whatever happened was of little consequence—he was simply waiting for this dull meeting to end so he could attend to his own affairs. With this expectation, impatience stirred within him, making him dislike everyone involved, including Shen Wansan, whom he referred to as “the old man,” his words tinged with dissatisfaction. He seemed to forget that, in others’ eyes, he too was a cranky old man. Fortunately, Qiu Wan’er paid it no mind. Her attention was fixed on the platform, where, at that moment, Daoist Tianji and Hantan Yi were approaching from the side.