Chapter Forty-Seven: The Marvelous Object

After leaving the Qian family, Wang Hong found himself in an unremarkable inn in the southeast part of Beihai City. Inside a modest guest room, an elderly man with white hair and beard, thin and robed in gold, gazed at Wang Hong, who was resting with his eyes closed on a lounge chair, and asked, “Your Highness, was that complete scroll of the Great Luo True Scripture authentic?”

Before Wang Hong could answer, Wang Weixue, who had once fought Qin Yi, let out a chuckle. “Elder, are you losing your wits with age? How could you believe something like that?”

“It was genuine,” Wang Hong suddenly opened his long-closed eyes and spoke, cutting Wang Weixue short.

Both Wang Weixue and the Fourth Elder fell silent, not knowing what to say.

Wang Hong continued, “It was truly the complete scroll of the Great Luo True Scripture.”

Wang Weixue forced a smile. “Then the family head must have tampered with it somehow.”

Wang Hong’s tone remained calm. “He did not.”

The Fourth Elder pressed, “Has the family head gone mad with desire for that wondrous item?”

Wang Hong suddenly smiled. “Grandfather Yongping, have you forgotten what kind of man Qian Zhouliang is?”

Wang Yongping replied, “He trusts no one but himself, ever suspicious.” Before Wang Hong could respond, a realization dawned on him, and he burst out laughing. “Ha! The family head is truly wise! He anticipated that old fox Qian Zhouliang would assume we had tampered with the real scripture.”

Wang Hong smiled. “That’s the first reason.”

“Oh?” Wang Yongping uttered in surprise, curiosity piqued. “And the second?”

Wang Hong nodded. “The lower scroll of the Great Luo True Scripture is too profound. Even my father would not dare add so much as a stroke, lest it be seen through.”

Both elders nodded in understanding. “So that’s how it is.”

Even as elders, they had only ever laid hands on the upper scroll and had little grasp of the lower scroll’s subtleties.

“There is one more thing, the most important of all,” Wang Hong said, a hint of amazement in his voice.

“Could it be that wondrous item?” Wang Weixue and Wang Yongping asked in unison. By now, if there was a third reason, it could only relate to that object, for all this turmoil had arisen for its sake.

Wang Hong snapped open his eyes and then narrowed them again. “Exactly.”

Wang Weixue asked eagerly, “What is the origin of that item?”

Wang Hong laughed it off. “It’s said to have been obtained by a great figure of the demon race from a hidden realm. But...”

“But what?” the two elders pressed.

Wang Hong’s expression grew grave. “According to news from the demon race, the item might actually be a miraculous fruit from the wondrous flower that is the demon empress’s true form.”

The two elders were stunned. “Impossible! Who among the races of men, demons, and saints could obtain such a fruit from the demon empress’s flower, and manage it without the strength of their entire race?”

Wang Hong’s eyes grew even more solemn, disbelief in his tone. “They say the one who took the fruit was a human swordmaster of great repute.”

Wang Weixue questioned, “A human swordmaster? Could it be one of the Nine Swords of Qishan?”

In this age, mention of a great swordmaster among humans brought to mind the Nine Swords of Qishan. These nine were the only acknowledged swordmasters among humanity, each from the Sword Pool of Qishan, and so they were known as the Nine Swords of Qishan.

Wang Yongping agreed, “If it’s a human swordmaster, it could only be one of the Nine Swords, and yet...”

He paused, for while the Nine Swords were mighty, none alone could obtain that miraculous fruit from the demon empress’s flower—perhaps not even all nine together.

The demon empress was far more than mere legend.

Wang Hong picked up where Wang Yongping left off. “But none of the Nine Swords could accomplish such a feat, not even united. And the demon race’s news is clear: it was a human swordmaster.”

The three fell silent, the news too shocking to voice.

They could scarcely imagine that a human swordmaster existed who could obtain such a treasure from the demon empress. All those across the land who knew of this must be reeling a thousandfold more, especially the great cultivators, for only they could truly comprehend how earthshaking this was—second only to a cultivator’s ascension.

Wang Yongping chuckled. “Could it be the Sage himself?”

Wang Weixue immediately retorted, “The Sage never used a sword, and besides, he died thousands of years ago.”

He thought to himself that this news was so staggering that Wang Yongping’s mind had leaped to the Sage, who neither used a sword nor was even alive. The Dao Palace had long ago announced the Sage’s death, and his remains still rested there.

Wang Yongping countered, “Then tell me, who among humanity could obtain that fruit from the present demon empress?”

Wang Weixue was speechless.

Indeed, since the ancient war, the strength of human cultivators had plummeted, unable to match the other three races. That millennium was the darkest for humankind: the three races invaded, humanity fought back and suffered grievous losses, retreating again and again. The people were destitute, and internal strife wracked the land—some resisted, others surrendered. Even the so-called orthodox sects nearly perished, on the verge of capitulation.

It was then that a figure of unparalleled brilliance arose: the Sage.

The Sage never cultivated the Dao. He was but a scholar, without kin, who spent his life studying, traveling all corners of the land—throughout the vast continent, the boundless southern seas, northern grasslands, and the unknown wild marshes.

As his mortal years waned and he reached ninety years of age, the onslaught from the three races threatened humanity with extinction.

By then, the Sage had journeyed across the world, tasted all of life’s sorrows, and left footprints on every tract of land. In the midst of war, with Daoist protectors dying and the people suffering, the Sage, in a single night, attained supreme enlightenment and became the undisputed foremost being since the ancient wars.

That night, he soared aloft like a deity, stirring waves of celestial phenomena. The people, seeing this, believed a god had descended.

From then on, spirits soared among humanity. The Sage led them to drive back their foes.

After victory, he founded Dao Palace in the central lands and, under his wise rule, brought humanity to unprecedented prosperity. Dao Palace became the supreme orthodoxy, even above all others, called the very foundation of humanity. Countless cultivators and scholars yearned to join, and many spent their whole lives seeking an audience with the Sage, dying content even if they never met him.

Such was the reverence he commanded, never to be surpassed.

Even now, though he has been gone for thousands of years, cultivators agree that since the ancient wars, none in all the world has surpassed the Sage.

Wang Hong smiled. “None of that concerns us. Our priority is to obtain that item and discover what it truly is.”

Both elders responded with a resolute “Yes.”

Wang Hong suddenly rose and went to the window, gazing out over the southern sea with expectation in his eyes.

“No matter what it is, tonight, all will be revealed.”