Chapter 105: Close Thunder (Part 2)

Once the older pilgrims learned the Taoist's identity as the Wudang sect leader, they dared not let the mountain's foremost immortal carry their bags. Unable to dissuade the persistent elders, the young sect leader accompanied them all the way to the entrance of the Xuanwu Temple on Mount Dalianghua. There were only a few pilgrims. The young Taoist stood under a thousand-year-old camphor tree, watching pilgrims offer incense in all four directions before placing it into a massive censer. Finally, the faint smoke of incense began to drift across Wudang Mountain.

He suddenly turned to see a Taoist dressed in an outsider's robe, holding a white-tailed whisk. His hair, pinned with a boxwood ornament, framed a solemn face. He entered the gate slowly, seemingly untouched by dust. His ethereal, immortal bearing far surpassed that of the current Wudang sect leader standing under the camphor tree. The young Taoist offered a slight bow to the unexpected guest.

The older Taoist paid him no mind, instead gazing into the Xuanwu Great Hall. Faintly visible within was the majestic, towering statue of Emperor Zhenwu, depicted with flowing hair, bare feet, and golden chain armor, standing atop a black tortoise.

The Taoist glanced at the bronze statue, then at the censer outside the hall, shaking his head as he murmured, "To command and suppress all demons, to govern the North—can none but Xuanwu stand against them?"

The Wudang sect leader, who had grown quiet since assuming his role, stood some distance away but overheard the question. Instead of answering directly, he responded with uncertainty, "Perhaps so?"

The visiting Taoist frowned, "Even you aren't certain?"

The young sect leader, who was never one to speak with precision, smiled and asked, "Longhu Mountain claims you're the reincarnation of the third generation patriarch, and that Ancestor Lu once split the Green Gallbladder Sword Embryo into three, with you receiving one piece. So, tell me, is that true or false?"

To his surprise, the Taoist shook his head without hesitation. "False," he stated.

The new Wudang sect leader was visibly stunned, rendered speechless and unmoving. In contrast, the Longhu Taoist, despite being on someone else's territory, appeared aggressive. He finally condescended to appraise the foremost figure of Wudang, whose demeanor seemed less imposing than even a junior Taoist at the Tianshi Mansion, and asked, "Are you Hong Xiangxi?"

Hong Xiangxi nodded and promptly squatted on the stone steps. They simply looked at each other. Although the Longhu Mountain Taoist exuded an imposing presence, it takes two to create a confrontation. The man squatting showed no change in expression, greeting the distant guest with a kind of lukewarm familiarity—neither overly effusive nor cold. As a result, their standoff lacked any tension and instead devolved into a humorous scene of two people talking past each other.

The Longhu Mountain visitor knew Hong Xiangxi's name. Since Hong Xiangxi was aware of the Green Gallbladder Sword Embryo legend, he naturally knew this prominent figure was named Qi Xianxia. Beyond being a memorable name, Qi Xianxia was renowned not just on Longhu Mountain and at the Tianshi Mansion, but throughout the entire Taoist world as a preeminent genius, destined to uphold the Taoist lineage. As for why he was so formidable, Wudang's understanding was simple: hadn't Junior Brother Wang's talents already been exceptional? Yet, their Senior Brother once remarked that in Taoist sword discussions, Wang Xiaoping ranked only third. The runner-up was an elder from a blessed grotto-heaven, but both were outshone by the young Qi Xianxia of Longhu.

Of course, rumors are one thing; the truth requires firsthand observation. In Hong Xiangxi's eyes, Qi Xianxia's horsetail whisk was not just a sword—even the ancient camphor tree he stood beneath was a sword, an unsheathed one at that. The popular martial world adage, "I command a million swords without holding one," was likely a vivid description of Qi Xianxia.

Hong Xiangxi, still squatting on the stone steps, sighed heavily. "See?" he thought, "Down the mountain, it's full of formidable people and dangerous affairs. How perilous."

As for Qi Xianxia's reason for visiting, Hong Xiangxi was far from being truly ignorant of worldly affairs. Wudang, though not overflowing with Taoist temples, had enough to ensure occasional minor disputes and friction between them. Whenever a disagreement arose, visits to "reason" with each other were frequent. If younger Taoists lost a verbal argument, they'd often resort to fists. As a child, riding his ox through the mountains, Hong Xiangxi would often stumble upon juniors who had arranged to "settle matters" in a secluded spot. He used to enjoy watching these encounters, but now as sect leader, cheering them on was no longer appropriate; he could only wait for the brawls to finish before attempting to mediate. From Longhu's side, aside from Qi Xianxia, no one else was suitable to come to Wudang. The Four Heavenly Masters were too old; winning a verbal or physical fight wouldn't bring them glory. Among the younger Heavenly Masters, Mr. White Lotus was unbeatable in debate, but if Hong Xiangxi simply agreed to everything he said, Mr. White Lotus would likely be exasperated. Qi Xianxia, however, was different. He wouldn't engage in verbal sparring; his mere presence exerted immense pressure. What was to be done? Was a direct confrontation truly unavoidable?

Qi Xianxia claimed his Green Gallbladder Sword Embryo was false, yet no matter how Hong Xiangxi observed him from every angle, the man's sharp, unyielding presence was undeniable.

Qi Xianxia observed Hong Xiangxi's rolling eyes and troubled expression, which seemed genuine. Although Qi Xianxia's own mind remained as calm as an ancient well, he had anticipated countless scenarios, but never imagined Wudang's new sect leader would be such an unmotivated and irresponsible commoner. Had he not seen Hong Xiangxi carrying pilgrims' luggage on his way up the mountain, Qi Xianxia would have long since shattered the statue of Emperor Zhenwu—a task of mere whisk strokes. He cared not whether Wudang and Longhu would thus become adversaries, or if the Tianshi Mansion would impose punishment. For centuries, the Tianshi Mansion had harbored a complex and elusive attitude towards Patriarch Lu. Regardless of Patriarch Lu's poetic and immortal nature, he was ultimately an old immortal from Wudang Mountain. Longhu Mountain itself boasted countless immortals and several patriarchs with immense power, yet none seemed as approachable or amiable as Lu Dongxuan. Qi Xianxia had long felt that, compared to Patriarch Lu, the patriarchs listed in the Zhao family's Tianshi lineage on Longhu Mountain were more akin to stiff, distant clay statues in a temple, incapable of enjoying hearty wine or composing soaring poetry, merely appearing loftily above, inspiring only reverence but no warmth.

For a moment, an awkward silence settled outside Zhenwu Temple. Older Taoists kept their distance, while only a few innocent young novices clustered together, openly discussing the visiting Taoist. In the children's eyes, their young Grand-uncle Master, regardless of his status as sect leader, was the foremost figure in the world. Wasn't His Royal Highness, the Prince of Northern Liang, arrogant enough? Yet, hadn't Grand-uncle Master disciplined him into submission? Of course, much of this perspective stemmed from their not having witnessed Xu Fengnian's severe beating of Hong Xiangxi. However, even if they had, the novices would likely have simply attributed it to Grand-uncle Master's unparalleled magnanimity, choosing not to stoop to the level of common mortals.

Qi Xianxia broke the silence, asking, "Did you write the 'Cantong Qi'? Or was it ghostwritten by your senior brothers?"

Hong Xiangxi responded evasively, "There's not much to offer here on the mountain. I'll give you a copy later."

Qi Xianxia frowned slightly.

Hong Xiangxi suddenly asked, "Are the scenery and weather pleasant in Jiangnan?"

Qi Xianxia remained silent.

Hong Xiangxi pressed further, "I hear Longhu is quite close to Huting Commandery. It must not be cold there now, right?"

Qi Xianxia, seemingly irked by such trivial questions, grew colder in his tone. "Why don't you go and see for yourself?"

It was Hong Xiangxi's turn to fall silent. Perhaps recalling the rumors that Hong Xiangxi had never left the mountain, combined with a secret anecdote he'd once overheard at the Tianshi Mansion, Qi Xianxia's expression turned peculiar. After a moment's hesitation, he sneered, "Huting Commandery isn't cold right now. In fact, a big scandal is brewing: your Prince of Northern Liang's eldest daughter, Xu Weixiong, has been behaving improperly and has incurred widespread public wrath there. Even the capital has caught wind of it. A concubine in the palace, who authored 'Admonitions for Women,' is quite incensed and has sent word that she intends to thoroughly reprimand this princess who married into Jiangnan."

Hong Xiangxi looked up earnestly and asked, "What is the accusation?"

Qi Xianxia stated flatly, "As the Wudang sect leader, is this all that concerns you?"

Hong Xiangxi smiled, pointed to the statue of Emperor Zhenwu inside the hall, and said, "He is the one who cares about the suffering of all people. As for me, I have never harbored the Tianshi Mansion's ambition to govern the world and aid its populace. I merely concern myself with being well-fed and warm on the mountain. As for what transpires below, I just ask out of curiosity. So, tell me, what exactly is the accusation?"

Qi Xianxia ignored Hong Xiangxi, instead gazing once more at the Demon-Slaying Celestial Venerable within the dimly lit hall. He sighed softly, "It has been cast for a thousand years."

Qi Xianxia turned, leaving with a final remark: "Our paths diverge, so there is nothing more to say. I shall now go to Taixu Palace to retrieve the ancient sword Ancestor Lu hung on the eaves. As for the accusation, I do not know, but I do recall that princess once wished to ascend Longhu Mountain to offer incense and was barred from entry."

Hong Xiangxi stood up.

He took a single step.

That young Grand-uncle Master had once ascended to the Celestial Phenomenon realm with a single step.

Today, however, that one small step directly wrested the whisk from the hands of Qi Xianxia, the Taoist Sword Master.

On Wudang Mountain, a long-awaited, sudden storm descended.

Grand Commandant Xu Xiao, accompanied by civil and military officials, walked along the central axis. At the end of the imperial path, which bisected the grand plaza, one could gaze up at the magnificent Hall of Preserving Harmony, soaring atop a three-tiered platform. This was the empire's heart, the central point where countless dragons paid homage.

In the context of the entire realm, the Hall of Preserving Harmony was but a small, confined space, holding no more than a hundred people.

Yet, the empire's rise, fall, honor, and disgrace all hinged on the individuals within and the decrees issued from this place. Every subtle breath drawn here would determine the very health of the vast empire's respiration.

The magnificent three-story platform featured white jade carved railings, massive crimson wooden pillars, azure-green eaves and beams, and a gleaming golden glazed tile roof.

It exuded utmost majesty and splendor.

A few years prior, a massive fire in the palace's inner court had destroyed countless structures, necessitating the rebuilding of many halls. Stone and timber within hundreds of miles of the capital's outskirts had long since been depleted. Xu Xiao's Northern Liang then transported innumerable colossal stones and ancient timbers to the capital. One such piece, a cloud-dragon carved stone intended for the rear eave steps, weighed three hundred tons, illustrating the immense cost in labor and resources. At the time, public complaints were rampant, and censors, invigorated, impeached Xu Xiao as a great traitorous minister, accusing the Prince of Northern Liang of flattery, sycophancy, and tyrannical extortion. Some even openly declared that the nation's calamities would persist as long as Xu Xiao lived. Yet, while these self-proclaimed incorruptible censors were indeed upright, Xu Xiao remained the formidable and unshakeable dignitary who always achieved his aims.

As one walked along this imperial central axis, at its end, a magnificent, inlaid Nine-Dragon Wall came into view without needing to lower one's head. The nine golden dragons appeared so lifelike they seemed poised to ascend into the sky at any moment. To the left and right of the Nine-Dragon Wall were stone steps leading to the grand hall: civil officials took the left path, military generals the right, with no deviation permitted. For centuries in the Liyang Dynasty, no one had ever heard of a single person mistakenly taking the wrong side. Older officials knew that whenever Xu the Cripple (Xu Xiao) took his first step onto the right-side steps of the Nine-Dragon Wall, he would briefly pause and mutter to himself, though no one ever clearly heard what he said. Being a military man by origin, Xu Xiao always took the right path when attending court, just as he had done on his first entry into the capital. The court had bestowed upon him the title of Grand Commandant, which now, in retrospect, seemed somewhat farcical. It was no wonder the court had descended into chaos back then, with weeping, kneeling, and raging, a scene of myriad emotions.

At this moment, the vast majority of civil and military officials behind Xu Xiao had never served alongside this "king of a different surname" in court. Thus, many deliberately watched Xu Xiao's actions after he ascended the steps. As expected, Xu Xiao glanced back at the Southern Imperial Gate. Yet, what thoughts occupied the mind of Xu the Cripple, the Man-Slayer, remained unknown to all.

Xu Xiao mused that once he passed through that grand gate, he would truly no longer be his own master.

Ordinary citizens approaching the Imperial Gate faced punishment. Those permitted to enter for court sessions enjoyed considerable glory and wealth, but the true cost incurred was a burden known only to each family. Even the emperor, seated high on the dragon throne within the grand hall, faced immense difficulties. Since its founding, the Liyang Dynasty had known no respite: from the early restoration and "seizing the gate" upheaval, Emperor Huanling's assassination by eunuchs in the Jiayin Palace Coup, to the Eastern Palace Cudgel Case in the sixth year of Jia'an. These were followed by Prince Shunhe's Straw Man Case, Emperor Rentai's sudden death from poison in the Red Pill Case, and then, fifty years prior, the Palace Relocation Incident and the dispute over the Three Official Temples, culminating in the recent White Robe Case…

The White Robe.

Xu Xiao silently repeated the phrase, then continued towards the Hall of Preserving Harmony, his gaze hardening with a cold intensity.

At the Xiamawei post station, he had already learned that not only was Fengnian being held accountable by some for provoking the Qingzhou navy on Spring God Lake, but even his eldest daughter, Xu Weixiong, who had married far away in Jiangnan, couldn't find peace in her daily life. These scoundrels behind him truly believed his authority was merely for decoration.

On this day, a great storm erupted within the Hall of Preserving Harmony.

The world only heard that after Grand Commandant Xu Xiao's court session concluded, before he had even exited the palace gates, he had severely beaten a third-rank official, leaving him crippled.