ATEG Chapter 120

Changpu’s heart tightened as she stopped alongside the two people ahead of her.

“Is this young lady unable to see?” Bie Chunian’s voice rang out warmly.

Changpu said nothing. The minor official had already answered for her. “Yes, this young lady is an extraordinary person I happened to encounter. Although she cannot see, she far surpasses…” He rattled off a string of praises about Changpu.

Bie Chunian listened patiently until the end, offered two words of smiling praise, then sighed. “In such a condition, she is truly deserving of compassion. Since our meeting is fated, why doesn’t the young lady pause for a moment and let me take a look to see whether there is any hope of restoring her sight.” His words carried boundless gentleness and compassion.

The minor official hesitated slightly — he had rather hoped to wait until after Changpu had seen the Sui King before meeting this Bie Zhenren, yet he felt that would be improper. How desperately a blind person must long for the restoration of their sight. And besides, what if after this moment passed, Bie Zhenren was no longer willing to offer his help?

“I am deeply moved by the Zhenren’s compassion, and my gratitude is beyond words. However, I have already given my word to Chen Daren, and I cannot break my promise. I earnestly entreat the Zhenren to allow me time — please let me first see the Sui King.” Changpu bowed, her sincerity evident.

Bie Chunian smiled. “The young lady is a woman of her word. But this is merely a preliminary look — it won’t take long and won’t cause any delay.”

With things having come to this point, Changpu had no way to refuse, and could only place her hopes in Chen Daren.

Chen Daren had been greatly moved by her earlier words, and said, “Miss Chang, this is a rare opportunity — go with Bie Zhenren first. I’ll wait just up ahead; come find me when you’re done.”

Changpu: ……

As Chen Daren and the palace attendants receded into the distance, Changpu had no choice but to follow Bie Chunian. She could only take things one step at a time.

Bie Chunian considerately made his footsteps audible as he walked, helping her discern directions, and said at ease, “The young lady cannot see, yet moves as naturally as any ordinary person — I imagine you have your own method?”

“That is indeed the case,” Changpu replied calmly.

“Let me guess,” Bie Chunian smiled. “The Mingdeng Sect’s lamp-lighting method?”

They had already walked to a secluded spot. Bie Chunian smiled. “There is no need to be tense, young lady.” In his palm, a small flame of lamplight bloomed.

That flame was so warm and bright — a radiance of profound gentleness, compassion, and crystalline fortitude. It illuminated the darkness before Changpu’s eyes and let her see the world around her once more: a world transparent as glass and soft as a spring breeze in that lamplight. She also saw Bie Chunian, whose presence had always been undetectable to her senses, and she saw his eyes.

How could such eyes exist in this world? He seemed at once to possess a child’s innocent purity and an elder’s gentle wisdom. He seemed to have seen through all the treachery of the world, yet still allowed tenderness to show through. He seemed to have seen through the suffering of all living beings, and so looked upon them with grief and pity. He carried a child’s most guileless goodwill and an elder’s most understanding comfort. These were eyes that made those who had endured great pain want to weep.

Changpu’s lips trembled slightly, and moisture rose in her grey, haze-filled eyes. She quickly lowered her head and drew a long, deep breath.

“Dan Yao Rong Guang Che Ming True Lord.”

After her silent prayer, the light abruptly went dark.

Changpu closed her eyes. That warm, gentle brightness — it was false.

Her heart gradually cooled. When she raised her head again, her expression was soft and approachable. “So Bie Zhenren is also a member of the Mingdeng Sect.”

Bie Chunian smiled gently. “With your level of cultivation, your eyes should already be capable of recovering their sight.”

Changpu said nothing. Ailments that ordinary people could not cure were not necessarily so difficult by a cultivator’s means — yet Changpu’s eyes had remained sightless all along. It was not that she had abandoned all desire for sight; rather, her eyes had genuinely been unable to recover for some unknown reason.

“But the reason you remain unable to see is something else entirely. I took a brief look just now and have a rough idea.” Bie Chunian’s tone was mild and gentle, and as he had promised, he told Changpu what he had observed about her eyes.

Had she not already known the truth, it would have been very hard, when facing such a person, not to place one’s trust in him.

“There is something I am puzzled about and would like to ask the young lady to help me resolve,” Bie Chunian said, shifting the topic with quiet ease.

“Please speak, Zhenren,” Changpu said.

“The Mingdeng Sect has always been loose and free in its ways, but recently it seems there has been a different mode of communication — yet I have been unable to find my way in. Could the young lady guide me inside?”

“A different mode of communication?” Changpu let just the right degree of surprise and puzzlement show on her face.

Yet Bie Chunian smiled and sighed. “It seems the young lady does not wish to give me an answer.”

“The Zhenren misunderstands. I have not heard of any different mode of communication. Since the Zhenren has raised the matter, I am willing to make inquiries, and should I learn anything, I would gladly share it with you.” Changpu replied.

“I am curious,” said Bie Chunian, pausing his steps and turning to face Changpu. “What method is used to distinguish the chosen ones?”

He remained as warm and calm as ever — which was precisely what made it chilling.

“Zhenren…” Changpu furrowed her brow and quietly raised her guard.

Bie Chunian’s perception was startlingly keen — he had already detected the Mingdeng Sect platform that Yang Cang had built. Yang Cang had warned her of this possibility beforehand. Although with the Flame Lord’s help, every member of the Mingdeng Sect could discern the true from the false in heart-flames, there were many ways to extract information from a person’s mouth. Even if others had been put on guard against Bie Chunian, he had far too many methods to obtain what he wished to know.

And the situation Changpu now found herself in was extraordinarily perilous. The Sui King’s palace was Bie Chunian’s home ground, and his cultivation was something she could not withstand. The only thing she could do was find a way to dispel Bie Chunian’s suspicions — but Bie Chunian was not a man easily deceived. He trusted what he himself had ascertained, and he was already certain.

“But since you are unwilling to speak, I can only seek other means.” Bie Chunian’s lamp-flame extinguished, and his sigh sounded just before her.

Yet Changpu suddenly lunged forward. She could not sense Bie Chunian’s presence — but the divine power that the Flame Lord had instilled within her heart-flame illuminated his movements. His voice had sounded before her, yet without her knowing when, he had already moved to stand behind her.

Bie Chunian’s strike hit empty air. He looked at the now-guarded Changpu and said in surprised admiration. “What a meticulous mind the young lady has.” He had assumed all along that Changpu could sense his presence and was merely feigning otherwise.

Sweat had already broken out on Changpu’s brow. She had meant to seize the moment to counter-attack, but her divine senses were sending frantic warnings deep in her mind. Bie Chunian’s power was like the false heart-flame he had conjured — pervasive, penetrating all things, bearing down on her from every direction. If she fought back… she would die!

The information Bie Chunian wanted — he needed only her soul to obtain it.

The place where they stood had at some point been sealed off from the surroundings. Bie Chunian moved like a phantom, without a trace of mortal energy, yet he drove Changpu from one near-catastrophe to the next.

The Mingdeng Sect’s cultivation lay in the heart-flame. Bie Chunian’s heart-flame had been extinguished, and eight or nine tenths of his cultivation should have been lost with it — yet he could still press Changpu to such a degree.

Changpu cradled her heart-lamp in both hands. Though its bright flame sheltered her at its center, Bie Chunian brought two fingers together and struck downward, and that terrifying force forcibly broke through the lamp-flame. He flickered aside and was already before her.

“Red Willow Pond!” Changpu suddenly said, urgent and sharp.

Bie Chunian’s hand froze at her throat. His eyes were as still and fathomless as an ancient well.

“Red Willow Pond…” he murmured, as though in sudden comprehension, as though in feeling. “What is Yang Cang to you?”

“Leave the Sui King’s palace,” Changpu said again.

“You want to use this to threaten me into leaving?” Bie Chunian suddenly laughed. “Judging by your age, you must have been the one he brought into the Mingdeng Sect, yes?”

Changpu did not answer, and said again, “Leave the Sui King’s palace — otherwise, what lies beneath Red Willow Pond will not be kept safe, and what was done at Red Willow Pond will not remain concealed.”

“He is a disciple I personally taught. By seniority, you ought to call me Grandmaster.” Bie Chunian spoke gently, yet in the same motion flipped his hand and seized Changpu, gripping her by the throat. “He told you about Red Willow Pond not as a way to stop me, but to let you use it to preserve your life.”

It seemed as though this had helped him work out a great many things. He said admiringly, “It appears the recent changes within the Mingdeng Sect have also arisen from him. A fine idea — an elegant hand.” The admiration in his voice was genuine, as though he was deeply pleased — even delighted — by what Yang Cang had done.

Changpu gripped the wrist that held her, but could not break free.

“Why?” she could not help but ask.

Why had Bie Chunian become what he was now? Why had his heart-flame been extinguished?

She had already seen the false heart-flame Bie Chunian had conjured — it was a reflection of what he had once achieved. Whenever he wished, his fabrication could deceive anyone, because it was not conjured from nothing: it was the true image of what he had once been. His heart-flame had declared the state of his heart and become the path a cultivator had set for himself.

Why had his heart-flame been extinguished? Why had his path collapsed?

And after the collapse — why had he become what he was now?

“Are you asking for yourself, or asking on behalf of your master?” Bie Chunian asked with a smile, as though something so grave could no longer stir so much as a ripple in his heart.

“I…” Before Changpu could finish, Bie Chunian suddenly turned his gaze toward the direction where the Sui King was.

Ying Bufu had let out a piercing shriek, but the sound did not carry an inch beyond where she was. Beside her, the old qin master’s aura had turned strange and otherworldly; his eyes had gone blank and luminous — he had entered a state of divine descent. The strings moved beneath his fingers and sent out crystalline notes; each sound’s vibration made Ying Bufu’s head split with agony, yet the part of her mind that had been trapped in fog was struggling, on the verge of breaking free into clarity.

“So that is how it is…” Bie Chunian murmured. He made to move in that direction.

Changpu suddenly seized his wrist with all her strength. Lamp-flames surged up like chains, wrapping tightly around Bie Chunian.

This had been their plan all along. If they could avoid Bie Chunian, all the better — but if not, she was to stall him, so that Yu Jian could achieve divine descent into the body of the qin master beside the Sui King and use the power of his spiritual music to forcibly awaken Ying Bufu’s consciousness. As the Sui King, Ying Bufu bore upon her the royal qi of Sui. Although Bie Chunian held no official position in Sui, this was the Sui King’s palace, and if Ying Bufu’s mind was restored, her royal decree could forcibly expel Bie Chunian from the palace.

Bie Chunian’s gaze grew slightly heavy. Everything Changpu had done was to buy time, and she had bought enough for Yu Jian to successfully cross the Sui King’s palace formation and achieve divine descent into the old qin master’s body. But the moment Yu Jian struck the strings to awaken the mind, Bie Chunian was bound to notice. Now it would come down to her fighting with everything she had.

Her will was resolute and her heart-flame was strong; wrenching free would still cost him some effort. But if he took her life — exploiting the split moment of confusion as her soul departed her body — it would be more than enough for him to claim Changpu’s soul, then go deal with the problem beside Ying Bufu.

Bie Chunian pressed harder. Changpu let out a pained groan; blood spilled from the corner of her mouth, yet the lamp-flames tangled around Bie Chunian only grew more tenacious.

Seeing this, Bie Chunian held back no longer, and was on the verge of taking her life — when a sword light burst forth like a thunderclap.

Bie Chunian retreated sharply and looked at the swordsman who had suddenly appeared in the space between them, clad in dark-blue fine-scaled armour. “Mister Xue.”

Xue Chengbo levelled his sword across his chest, pressed two fingers along the blade, and his gaze was cold. “Bie Zhenren.”

In a flash of lightning, the sword light rose again, thunder and lightning struck in rapid succession, and the two figures vanished from the scene, leaving only Changpu collapsed on the ground, clutching her throat and coughing with great difficulty.

Ah Lu ran over, hesitated for a moment, then set a small vial of medicinal dew in front of Changpu, stepped back two paces, and watched her warily.

Changpu sniffed the medicinal dew, tipped two drops into her mouth, and the searing pain in her throat — like swallowing live coals — eased considerably at once.

She pushed the vial back and did not draw close, her voice hoarse. “Thank you.”

Ah Lu took back the vial and asked, on guard: “Who are you?” She did not recall there being such a blind young woman anywhere in the palace; if she had not seen this blind woman standing her ground against Bie Chunian, she would have called people to detain her by now.

“My name is Changpu. I came to stop Bie Chunian.” Changpu said, her face showing concern.

She was not acquainted with the Mister Xue who had appeared so suddenly, and did not know whether he could hold his own against Bie Chunian. Now both Bie Chunian and Mister Xue had disappeared — and just before Bie Chunian had left, he had still had the composure to lean close and say to her with a smile. “He is not dead. I am glad.”

Ah Lu noticed her worry and said, “Mister Xue is very formidable.”

Changpu nodded, yet her heart could not settle. Bie Chunian now knew that Yang Cang had not died — his physical body had perished, but his soul had survived as a ghost-spirit. Changpu knew why Yang Cang had died. When Bie Chunian had moved against Yang Cang back then, he had shown no mercy: his aim had been not merely to kill Yang Cang’s physical body but to destroy his soul — to leave him without the strength to become a ghost-spirit, and without the strength to preserve his memories through the cycle of reincarnation. That Yang Cang had survived at all was because he had received a warning from Heavenly Maiden Wuyou.

Yet this man — who had struck down his own disciple without hesitation — had just spoken of Yang Cang as though he were truly a master proud of his student.

Changpu could not see through him, and did not know what he would do now that he had learned Yang Cang still existed. She could not help but feel apprehensive.

In the short span of time that had passed, Mister Xue had already returned. Seeing him appear so abruptly, Ah Lu hurried forward. “Mister Xue, did you catch him?”

Xue Chengbo shook his head. “He fled the palace.”

Bie Chunian had left of his own accord — there had been no exchange of blows; he had simply turned and gone. And what was more… Xue Chengbo glanced at Changpu nearby. He suspected that it was not necessarily because of him that Bie Chunian had left. Without a direct confrontation, he could not judge the true extent of Bie Chunian’s cultivation, but it was clear it was no small matter. That he had withdrawn so easily suggested there might be another reason.

Ah Lu was deeply disappointed. The cause of the King’s strange behaviour had still not been found, and there was still the problem of her headaches. With Bie Chunian having fled, there was no way to obtain information from him directly. But fortunately Changpu was still here; since she had come specifically to stop Bie Chunian, she ought to know something of his origins.

“Let’s go see the King first.” Xue Chengbo said, glancing at Changpu. “You come with us.”

Changpu’s origins were unknown; Xue Chengbo intended to keep her close for the time being.

Ah Lu nodded and led the way. Earlier Bie Chunian had sealed off this area, and so this swift, fierce struggle had not been detected by anyone else in the palace.

They had walked just a few steps when Ah Lu suddenly stopped and turned to plant herself in front of Xue Chengbo.

“Mister Xue.” Ah Lu looked at him gravely, a guarded tension gradually rising through her body. “We are about to go see the King.”

“I know.” Xue Chengbo frowned and looked at her, at a loss.

“Then why do you carry killing intent?”

Xue Chengbo was momentarily taken aback, and said with approval, “You’ve improved.”

“Mister Xue!” Ah Lu said indignantly, her wariness undiminished.

The killing intent on Xue Chengbo was faint — he was complimenting her for being able to sense it at all. Ah Lu had originally assumed the killing intent on him was a residue from his earlier confrontation with Bie Chunian that had yet to dissipate, but as they walked on, she found that it had not faded — rather, it remained perfectly steady and constant.

It was the killing intent of someone prepared at any moment to strike — to kill one more person.

Xue Chengbo was silent for a moment, then said, “What did the Sui King tell you?”

“She told me: if I sensed that something was wrong with her, I should come find you to kill Bie Zhenren.” Ah Lu answered. She held in her hand the key object of the palace formation, ready to activate it at any moment.

“What she told me included the second half.” Xue Chengbo said. “If she cannot recover, she wants me to kill her.”

“Impossible!” Ah Lu retorted. “If the King were gone, who would be the Sui King?” The Ying bloodline had only Ying Bufu left.

Xue Chengbo looked at her, and in his gaze there was a subtle, veiled shift.

Ah Lu caught the meaning in his eyes. Her heart lurched. She forced herself to focus and gripped the formation’s key object tighter, and cried out, “Impossible!”

“You are also of royal blood.” Xue Chengbo said. “You are her younger sister.”

“Impossible! I — I carry no royal qi!” Ah Lu said in panic.

“Royal qi can be concealed.” Xue Chengbo looked at her, something like regret in his eyes.

Ah Lu’s talent was exceptional. His reluctance to take her as a disciple was not only because her character was not yet sufficient. Character could change — from the moment of birth, a person’s character was always shifting in accordance with their experiences, and cultivation was the tempering of character. But Ah Lu was destined to be unable to inherit his path, because she was the successor Ying Bufu had already prepared.

Ah Lu made to argue further, when Changpu beside them cradled her heart-flame and suddenly spoke, “He is not lying.”

The moment Ah Lu had said that Mister Xue carried killing intent, Changpu had raised her guard — but she had not expected it to be for this reason. Beneath the illumination of the heart-flame, she could see that there was indeed a not-insignificant royal qi concealed within Ah Lu — a degree that could only belong to someone within three generations of the Ying bloodline.

Changpu extended her hand toward her, the heart-flame in her palm shining into Ah Lu’s eyes. Through the heart-flame’s power, Ah Lu too became aware of the royal qi within herself.

“Impossible,” she murmured.

“Let’s go see the Sui King first.” Xue Chengbo said.

Ah Lu walked ahead in a daze, leading the way. She was thinking of Ying Bufu — she recalled that she had grown up in Ying Bufu’s palace from childhood; she recalled that she had no surname, and that Ying Bufu had let everyone simply call her Ah Lu; she recalled how Ying Bufu had always, in ways deliberate or seemingly casual, been teaching her about matters of governance, and had never shut her out when meeting with ministers to discuss important affairs…

She was jolted back to herself by a cry of anguished wailing. She looked up to see Ying Bufu collapsed on the ground, screaming in torment, while the old qin master beside her played on with crystalline, unyielding strokes.

“Stop!” Ah Lu cried in shock and fury, rushing toward the old qin master.

Changpu stopped her. “That is my friend. He can dispel Bie Chunian’s hold over the Sui King.”

Xue Chengbo nodded. “That is indeed the case.” The moment he had entered the hall, he had already read the situation: the one playing was not the old qin master himself, but a divine spirit in descent upon his body. He could hear the resonance of the Dao within those notes.

Ah Lu turned and ran to Ying Bufu’s side, knelt on the floor, and took her into her arms, keeping her from clawing at her own head.

“Your Majesty — Your Majesty!” Ah Lu called out anxiously.

Xue Chengbo stood guard nearby and said nothing. He did not understand the method Bie Chunian had used to control Ying Bufu; only now, as the music clashed against it, could he make out some of its outlines. Bie Chunian’s methods were strange and cunning, and this was not Xue Chengbo’s domain. If the matter were left to him, he would have no way to undo Bie Chunian’s technique. But the craft of this descending deity was close to the Dao itself — it could forcibly shatter Bie Chunian’s technique, though the Sui King would inevitably suffer a degree of torment in the process.

“Chang’an, Chang’an…” Ah Lu held Ying Bufu’s hands and wept, calling her name.

The splitting pain in Ying Bufu’s head seemed to be beginning to ease. She trembled in Ah Lu’s arms; her throat had been injured by the frenzied shrieking earlier, and she was now moaning in pain.

The old qin master’s fingers drew notes that drifted misty and far, resonant as the music of heaven. Ying Bufu’s suffering grew lighter and lighter. A thread of clarity returned to her; her eyes took on awareness. “Ah Lu?”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Ah Lu said.

Ying Bufu, seeing that it was her, closed her eyes. She slowly suppressed the pained sounds in her throat, breathing with difficulty, waiting for the torment to pass. Gradually she became able to attend to the music; her consciousness followed the sound, which was like a clear, cold spring — like clarifying nectar poured over the top of one’s head — and her mind grew more and more clear, as though waking from a strange, drifting dream, becoming aware of all the absurdities within the dream.

But for now she did not want to think about all those things that troubled the spirit. It had been so long since she had truly, attentively listened to music.

When was the last time she had listened to music like this? It felt as though more than ten years had passed. After Sui had stabilised somewhat, she had once tried to allow herself a little rest and had musicians play for her. But she could no longer find the feeling she had once known. It was not that the musicians were poor, nor that the music was poor. She had become the Sui King, holding real power in her hands, and the people below her would only work harder to please her. But something was always jumping up in her mind — worrying about this, thinking about that.

She simply… no longer had the state of mind to listen to music.

She leaned in Ah Lu’s arms, eyes peacefully closed, as though drifting on a clean, clear stream, the water babbling softly, reflecting glittering points of light…

She had never heard music like this.

The final note lingered long, dispersing the last of her pain, leaving her mind cool and clear and at ease.

The old qin master raised his head, nodded to the several people present, then leaned back and sank into sleep.

Yu Jian had already left the old qin master’s body. Forcing his way past the Sui King’s palace formation, attending to awakening the Sui King’s mind while at the same time keeping her from harming herself, and before Xue Chengbo and the others had arrived — also preventing any sound from the scene from being detected by others — had been genuinely exhausting. He was a ghost-spirit, and prolonged divine descent could also harm the believer’s body. Since Changpu was here as well, he would not linger for conversation.

Ying Bufu let out a quiet, inward sigh, and braced herself upright, letting Ah Lu help her sit.

“Mister Xue.” Ying Bufu said, then looked toward Changpu and gave her a nod as well.

With the explanations from several people, she quickly understood the course of events. But at this moment, Bie Chunian’s whereabouts were not the most pressing matter — the decree to attack the Lu Kingdom that she had issued earlier was the most urgent thing.

“Ah Lu,” Ying Bufu’s complexion was still very pale, her body marked with bruises and scrapes from her earlier agonised struggling, “bring me my seal.”

She urgently issued a new royal decree, rescinding all the preparations previously made for the campaign against Lu, and ordering the general who had already deployed troops along the banks of the Huai River in readiness for battle to stand them down.

With the help of a spell, this royal order was transmitted throughout all of Sui in only a few incense sticks’ worth of time. Half an incense stick later, the Chief Clerk responsible for the matter entered, his face ashen. “Your Majesty, the Grand Marshal says — a general in the field does not take orders from the sovereign.”

Changpu was taken aback.

No wonder — no wonder Bie Chunian had left the palace so easily.