At the same time, the other Dugu family elders standing nearby all showed shifting expressions, glancing repeatedly at Dugu Changkong as though wanting to say something, yet each one of them unable to find the words to begin.
Dugu Changkong withdrew his gaze and looked over the assembled Dugu family elders, saying, "I know what you want to say. Rest easy. I know what is worth doing and what is not."
With that, Dugu Changkong swept his sleeve and said, "Back to the city."
He stepped into his carriage and left at speed. The surrounding elders exchanged looks, then immediately gathered up the younger family members and followed.
The young woman in the white skirt looked back at the big black cat surrounded by the crowd, and thought to herself that if even a cat commanded this much adoration, it showed just how overwhelming the Eighth Prince's influence had become.
...
At the same time, the Hidden Kill Pavilion assassins drifted away among the crowd one by one, looking as though they had lost much of their spirit, their expressions subdued.
The Kill-Saint's retreat had dealt them a blow impossible to describe. Watching the goal they had spent half their lives chasing, the absolute pinnacle of the killing path as embodied by the Hidden Kill Pavilion's Kill-Saint, genuinely defeated at the hands of that young prince, left them with a tangle of feelings they could not sort through.
"Whatever else one might say, that Eighth Prince will be our new Pavilion Master from here on. Perhaps the Kill-Saint is not the final limit of the killing path after all. The true pinnacle may yet be rewritten by him in the future."
At that moment, however, Lianxing, her face still masked, swept an expressionless look over the group and said, "The true killing path lies in killing others and killing the self. The Kill-Saint lost, but that does not mean the killing path is broken. If this small setback is all it takes to shake your resolve, and you cannot even cut away the delusions and cowardice in your own hearts, you had better leave the Hidden Kill Pavilion sooner rather than later."
At those words, Ghost Dwarf and the others were momentarily jolted, and immediately spun around to look at Lianxing.
But she had already completely stopped paying them any attention, walking off on her own and gradually disappearing into the crowd.
"Truly, the honored Lianxing lives up to her reputation. Of everyone here, only the honored Lianxing's killing path is truly pure. She is the only one among us who genuinely has a chance of reaching the pinnacle of the killing way."
Ghost Dwarf stared in the direction Lianxing had gone and could not help murmuring in admiration to himself.
Illusory Swan, and the Black and White Rakshasa, all looked at him at the same moment.
None of them quite knew the meaning of the term "devoted follower," but in that moment they all felt, with one mind, that Ghost Dwarf was being a very devoted follower indeed.
...
At the same time, the blue-robed Daoist and the monk Shenshu settled back down on either side of the chessboard and continued the game they had set aside.
The Daoist novice in the indigo robe stood beside the blue-robed Daoist, his small face visibly still distant, saying, "I truly cannot imagine how that prince cultivates. He is so young, and yet even a formidable Kill-Saint could not beat him."
At those words, the blue-robed Daoist shook his head, then suddenly set down his stone, looked across at the monk Shenshu, and said, "Well? Do you still have any thought of seeking out that Eighth Prince and reclaiming the key?"
The monk Shenshu, whose face had been utterly unruffled throughout, now showed a subtle shift of expression. In the end he pressed his palms together and intoned a Buddhist name, saying, "The cause and effect of this matter has long since become clear. What this poor monk gave to the lay disciple Li Que has now come into the hands of that Eighth Prince. Perhaps this is what was always meant to be."
As he said this, Shenshu suddenly raised his eyes to look into the distance, "Perhaps the Tianqi Secret Treasury, kept hidden for a thousand years, is at last ready to see the light of day."
At those words, the blue-robed Daoist was momentarily caught off guard. He narrowed his eyes and studied Shenshu for a good long while.
Only after the monk had withdrawn his gaze did the blue-robed Daoist stroke his beard and say in a thoughtful murmur, "Five nations divided, the martial world in chaos for a century. Now a once-in-an-age genius like this has appeared. There may truly be something to the idea that it is a sign of some great turning of the tide."
At that, Shenshu's expression had returned to its usual calm. He resumed studying the board, saying slowly, "Unifying the world under heaven is no easy thing. The other four nations will not sit by and allow it."
Then Shenshu suddenly furrowed his brow and let out a quiet sound of surprise, "This board looks somehow different now?"
And at that, the blue-robed Daoist burst out laughing and clapped his hands, saying, "Of course it is different. The board is just like the situation under heaven, Shenshu. It changes in an instant. Your steady, methodical old approach has already fallen behind my pace."
With that, the blue-robed Daoist stood up with a self-satisfied air and said, "Now it is your turn to think carefully. My disciple is not something easily won."
At those words, the Daoist novice beside them immediately brightened, and made a face at the monk Shenshu across the board, then looked up at the blue-robed Daoist and asked, "Master, can we go home now then?"
The blue-robed Daoist, however, shook his head, "There is no rush. Since we have come all this way to Great Li, we ought to go and call on a Junior Brother of mine who has risen to a rather important position here."
At those words, a puzzled look crossed the Daoist novice's face, "I have never heard Master mention it before. There is a Master Uncle here in the Great Li capital?"
At that, the monk Shenshu across the board let out a quiet sigh, and with a casual wave of his hand swept every stone from the board without leaving a single one.
"Let us call this a draw. This poor monk has been summoned by the temple and does not have much time to linger. If fate brings us together again, this poor monk will be glad to play another game with Daoist Friend Qingye."
Shenshu pressed his palms together and said this, and the blue-robed Daoist waved a hand, "Never mind. I will let this monk off today."
In truth he was not entirely confident he could beat Shenshu anyway. Since the other man did not want to spend the time, he was naturally happy enough to agree.
"In that case, this poor monk bids you farewell here, Daoist Friend. Until we meet again."
Shenshu did not linger. He gave a slight bow and turned to leave.
But at that moment, the blue-robed Daoist called out, "You truly will not go to find that Eighth Prince?"
At those words, Shenshu's figure paused very slightly, but he said nothing at all. He intoned a Buddhist name, and then vanished from where he stood in the blink of an eye, leaving only the blue-robed Daoist's broad, unrestrained laughter behind.
At that, Huo Qifeng and Huo Shan glanced at the two of them, then immediately set the carriage in motion and departed.
The blue-robed Daoist let his laughter fade, and his gaze shifted suddenly toward the direction in which Huo Qifeng and the others had gone.
The Daoist novice, following his master's line of sight, looked that way too and asked, "Master, is something the matter with those people?"
The blue-robed Daoist said nothing, only waving a hand, "Nothing. Just thinking of certain things from long ago."
Then he turned to go, saying, "Come. I will take you to meet that Master Uncle of yours."
...
Inside a carriage heading back to the capital, Song Xingwei and the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion Master Zhu Wuming sat across from each other.
The expressions flickering across Song Xingwei's fine oval face were many and shifting, one moment filled with wonder, the next creased in a frown, the next releasing a long sigh.
Zhu Wuming watched this and drew a slow breath, then asked in his gentle voice, "Is something the matter, Miss Xingwei?"
At those words, Song Xingwei glanced at him and said with a curl of her lip, "You would not understand. It is just that all of a sudden my good friend has this extraordinarily formidable sworn elder brother, and while I am happy for her, the moment I think about her showing off in front of me again, I get rather annoyed. Why do I not have an elder brother like that?"
Zhu Wuming's eye twitched slightly. He had been wondering what was on her mind, and it turned out to be this. Young women's thoughts were genuinely difficult to fathom.
At that, Song Xingwei shook her head and suddenly looked over at Zhu Wuming, asking, "Pavilion Master Zhu, you also witnessed that clash between the Eighth Prince and the Hidden Kill Pavilion's Kill-Saint firsthand. Do you not have any thoughts?"
"Thoughts?"
Zhu Wuming went briefly still, then let out a sigh and said, "Thoughts? At one point in my life, I too was someone that countless people looked up to. Now the roles have reversed, and I find myself one of the many looking up at a genius."
As he said this, Zhu Wuming seemed to realize that expressing such sour sentiments in front of a young girl, at his age and in his position as Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion Master, was rather inappropriate and embarrassing, and immediately redirected the conversation, "That Eighth Prince's martial cultivation far exceeds what any of us imagined. And now that he is about to take control of the Hidden Kill Pavilion as well, there is no time to waste. We must resolve the misunderstanding between the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion and him as soon as possible. I will have to trouble you with that, Miss Xingwei."
At those words, Song Xingwei gave Zhu Wuming a long look, but did not press him on what he had just said, and only waved a hand, "Leave it to me."
...
At the same time, among the many carriages making their way back to the capital, one ordinary-looking carriage turned into a quiet street after entering the city, darted into a small alley, and vanished from sight.
Before long the carriage stopped in a deserted lane, and from it stepped two elderly men in plain cloth robes.
One had hair entirely black, the other entirely white.
Neither had the aged appearance of an ordinary elder, and neither let a trace of martial aura escape from their bodies. The black-haired elder had eyes as bright and clear as stars, while the white-haired elder carried with him a faint, barely perceptible air of majesty.
Once the two had stepped down from the carriage, they prepared to board a different carriage that had been waiting in the lane to take them away.
But at that very moment, an elderly figure in dark robes with a bronze mask covering his face appeared silently at the mouth of the lane.
Then that figure moved from a distance, closing the gap in what seemed like no time at all, and came to a stop behind the two men just as they were about to board the waiting carriage.
Both men paused and slowly turned around.
The three of them stood in the lane, eyes meeting, each taking in the others.
"Who are you?"
The black-haired elder's expression remained perfectly composed. His starlike eyes fixed on the bronze-masked elder, and in that instant a thin layer of misty haze quietly rose in their depths.
In a moment, the entire lane seemed to be enveloped by an inexplicable force, and everything around them blurred and grew indistinct.
"No need to act. I have no hostile intent."
The bronze-masked elder spoke slowly, taking no notice of the changes in the lane around them. His gaze behind the mask rested on the white-haired elder, and he said plainly, "Allow me to introduce myself. I hold the somewhat unworthy position of Hidden Kill Pavilion Master."
At those words, the black-haired elder's expression shifted and he looked toward the white-haired elder beside him.
The two exchanged a glance, and then the white-haired elder, whose bearing carried that faint air of authority, gave a slight nod and said calmly, "Your reputation precedes you. May I ask what brings the Pavilion Master to find us?"
The bronze-masked elder looked at the white-haired elder for a moment, then withdrew his gaze and said, "Truly befitting of Great Li's emperor. Unshaken in the face of difficulty."
At those words, the black-haired elder's eyes narrowed slightly, while the white-haired elder showed no change of expression from beginning to end, appearing entirely unsurprised at having his identity named.
It was plain that from the moment he had laid eyes on the man, he had understood that the Hidden Kill Pavilion Master, having gone to the trouble of finding them, naturally knew exactly who they were.
"The whole court and the people at large know that Great Li's emperor is in seclusion and has not yet emerged. And yet today the two of you have appeared here. I confess I am rather curious as to why."
The Hidden Kill Pavilion Master seemed to be in no hurry, and instead directed a question at Emperor Yuanwu.
At those words, the black-haired elder beside the emperor shook his head and said, "As the Pavilion Master can see, we have just returned from outside the city. We went to watch the Eighth Prince's clash with the Pavilion's Kill-Saint."
The Hidden Kill Pavilion Master glanced at him, then looked back at Emperor Yuanwu and said, "Understood. It appears His Majesty prefers not to share his thoughts."
As he said this, the bronze-masked Hidden Kill Pavilion Master waved a hand, "Since you do not wish to say, I will not press you."
At those words, Emperor Yuanwu gave a slight bow, his air of authority undiminished, and said with complete composure, "I thank the Pavilion Master for his understanding. Perhaps the Pavilion Master would be good enough to state his business first. If there is anything within my power to assist with, I naturally will not decline."
The Hidden Kill Pavilion Master's gaze passed over Emperor Yuanwu from head to foot. Facing him, the emperor had been perfectly composed from first to last, showing not the slightest trace of fear despite standing within easy reach of someone who could take his life at will, and whose name was feared throughout the world.
Was it because he had something to rely upon? Or was it simply the unfathomable composure of an emperor?
The Hidden Kill Pavilion Master felt a slight stir within him. He thought for a moment, then finally spoke, "I had no intention of disturbing either of you. The reason I have come today concerns only one person."
"Surely the Eighth Prince?" the black-haired elder said, raising an eyebrow slightly, his mist-veiled eyes watching the Hidden Kill Pavilion Master behind the bronze mask.
"Correct."
The Hidden Kill Pavilion Master gave a nod, then continued, "Though the Eighth Prince's martial cultivation is extraordinary enough to astonish the world, and even the Pavilion's Kill-Saint was no match for him, and though by the Hidden Kill Order's rules of succession the next Pavilion Master's position already belongs to him..."
At those words, the black-haired elder's eyes narrowed slightly, "If that is so, Pavilion Master, you need only act according to the rules. Surely there is no problem?"
"There is indeed a problem."
The Hidden Kill Pavilion Master's voice carried no discernible emotion, "The Hidden Kill Pavilion has been passed down across the ages of the martial world, and from its very beginning has remained far removed from the court and independent of all martial world sects. It is precisely this that has allowed the Pavilion to avoid entanglement with any faction and to endure and continue to this day."
"But now things are different. That Eighth Prince occupies a very particular position. If after taking control of the Hidden Kill Pavilion he draws it into the struggles of the court, or even into the conflict between the five nations, the Pavilion will lose the transcendent independence it has always held."
"To speak plainly, I fear the Hidden Kill Pavilion may be destroyed in his hands."