Volume One: Youths Meet in Their Humble Days Chapter Eighty-Four: Li Xiqing's Conspiracy

After Cao Xi River left, Mu Feng, filled with worry, turned to Liang Hui and asked, “Third Master, do you think the Supreme Hall’s Lord has truly discovered our real intentions?”

Liang Hui’s brows were tightly knit, his gaze deep as he recalled the other’s recent words. After considering for a moment, he finally answered, “Even if he hasn’t guessed everything, he probably knows the gist of it by now.”

“Is that possible? He’s a thousand miles away, never even set foot in Tianmen Town, and yet he can deduce all this without ever leaving his hall?” Mu Feng still found it hard to believe.

Liang Hui replied, “He doesn’t need to be physically present. Did you not notice? From his words earlier, we can be sure of one thing: that Daoist and the Hall Lord must be from the same sect. Even if the Daoist doesn’t know our exact plans, as long as he reports our arrival and deeds over these years to the Hall Lord, given the Hall Lord’s status, it wouldn’t be hard for him to deduce our true purpose. After all, we’ve never really concealed our actions.”

Mu Feng seemed to think of something else and continued, “Then, does that mean the Hall Lord’s strength surpasses that Daoist’s? Is his realm even higher?”

But Liang Hui shook his head. “No. The Daoist’s strength has already reached the pinnacle, comparable to those sages who dwell among the clouds. The Hall Lord’s power is likely inferior.”

“Then why?” Mu Feng pressed, perplexed.

Liang Hui understood what was on his mind and answered calmly, “Superior strength doesn’t always mean greater insight or deeper foundation. Although I don’t know why those two brothers are separated, the Supreme Hall’s heritage runs deeper than even the Great Cheng Dynasty. Since he is the Hall Lord, his vision cannot be less than that Daoist’s.”

Hearing this, Mu Feng thought of their Confucian sect’s ambitions and grew even more uneasy. “A Daoist, plus the Hall Lord—our plan will not be easy to implement.”

Indeed, this matter was never going to be easy.

Otherwise, they wouldn’t have established a humble academy in this small Tianmen Town so long ago to plot their course.

The Confucian sect’s presence in Tianmen Town had spanned over a thousand years. In all that time, aside from their interest in Tianmen itself, their main concern was the fate of Tianmen Town. Unlike others, the Confucian sect did not cling so tightly to the gains and losses of Tianmen; they were more concerned with the town itself.

In fact, their attitude towards Tianmen was not unlike that of the Supreme Hall or Green Mountain—they all believed that the path of cultivation lies within oneself, not through external means or shortcuts.

What intrigued them more was: why is Tianmen Town what it is? The Nether Sea, the land without the Dao, even the town’s rejection of the Li family—all of these were, to them, more mysterious than Tianmen itself.

Thus, their main goal after so many years was to find a way to claim Tianmen Town as their own. Failing that, they wished at least to open a direct passage for the Confucian sect to reach the town, breaking free from the controls of both the Great Cheng Dynasty and the Supreme Hall.

Liang Hui glanced around the academy and then asked, “Where is Wu Tong, who came with me?”

Mu Feng replied, “He’s copying texts. Do you want me to fetch him?”

Liang Hui said, “No need. Just let me know if he decides to go out.”

Mu Feng was puzzled by the sudden mention of Wu Tong and wanted to ask, but knowing his own place, he let the thought pass.

Few people knew what had transpired between the academy and the Daoist temple. They themselves would not speak of it. Everything seemed to progress in orderly fashion, just as they had hoped.

When Zhang Helun conveyed the Daoist’s attitude to the leaders of various sects, the answer was, to their relief, not unfavorable, so they were able to relax and paid little further attention.

Cao Xi River, of course, had chosen to report only what was necessary, relaying a vague message to the various sect leaders: that the Confucian sect’s intentions did not conflict with the opening of Tianmen, and little more.

In this great matter of Tianmen’s impending opening, everyone had their own schemes; Tianmen was but one part. Whether it opened or not was important, but not so crucial as to risk everything—especially when there was no immediate gain to be had. Rather than leave empty-handed, it was better to look to the future and plan for lasting benefit for themselves and their sects.

Li Yu returned to the Daoist temple late at night.

Though his duel with Li Xiqing had seemed an easy victory, he had in truth expended all the sword energy at his disposal. When he returned, he was utterly spent; his air of nonchalance was nothing but a carefully crafted facade.

He could not be sure whether anyone else lay in wait, so he had to act as if he still held the upper hand as he made his retreat.

Only once back in the temple did he truly relax.

He closed the door, then slid down to the floor, his thoughts racing: today was perhaps the closest he’d ever come to death since the Daoist first took him in.

Unlike being swept into the sea, this time he knew that if Li Xiqing had the means, she would have killed him without hesitation.

That feeling of one’s fate being controlled by another—he never wanted to experience it again.

After regaining his composure, he returned to the inner courtyard, where he heard his master’s voice from the meditation chamber: “Little Fish, the Li family will not let you go so easily. Have you thought about how you’ll deal with them?”

Li Yu knew that while his master never left his room, it was nearly impossible to keep any event in Tianmen Town from him. “I already gave him a chance. If he comes at me again, he’ll only meet his end here.”

At that, a ball of light drifted from the Daoist’s chamber. “This contains the happenings around you during your recent fight. It may be useful. Tianmen Town is no longer as safe as before; you must make use of every resource at your disposal. Be careful not to get hurt, understood?”

Li Yu pondered his master’s words and sensed the underlying message. “It seems Master is currently at a critical juncture. If anything happens to me, he’ll find it difficult to intervene.”

“I understand, Master. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of myself and won’t be injured lightly,” he promised solemnly.

Li Xiqing returned to the Li residence empty-handed. She brushed off others’ questions, claiming she had just been out for a stroll, then summoned Li Ximing to her room to discuss Li Yu.

“It’s confirmed. It’s him,” Li Xiqing said gravely.

Li Ximing, though half-convinced, was still shocked by the certainty in her tone. “How has he survived until now? And how did he end up in Tianmen Town?”

Li Xiqing snapped, “How should I know? I’d like to know myself!”

Li Ximing, stung, pressed on, “Did you make a move against him?”

Mentioning this only fueled Li Xiqing’s frustration. The memory of how easily Li Yu had destroyed her “Command of Control” left her unsettled.

She grew increasingly resentful of Tianmen Town. “I didn’t manage to take him down.”

“That’s impossible!” Li Ximing’s composure cracked; he shot to his feet and shouted, “He clearly has no Heavenly Aperture and can’t cultivate at all. How could he withstand your Command of Control?”

Then, recalling the faint aura of true spirit around Li Yu, he asked, “Was it because of the spirit on him?”

Li Xiqing didn’t bother to mock him. “No. Don’t forget, our Spirit Commanding clan is the nemesis of such true spirits. That alone would not have sufficed against me. He has other secrets.”

Li Ximing now understood what had happened that night. Though Li Yu could not cultivate, he still possessed means to counter them.

He couldn’t help but think: if Li Yu, a man unable to cultivate, could resist Li Xiqing, imagine how powerful that method would be in their hands!

“Brother Qing, we must seize the secret that boy carries,” Li Ximing said, voice laced with malice and greed.

Li Xiqing had the same thought. At this point, her desire to kill Li Yu was no longer just about erasing the past—it was also driven by the lure of his secret.

They discussed in detail how best to strike at Li Yu, even considering how many people to involve. Li Xiqing argued that the two of them were sufficient, but Li Ximing disagreed. He told her about Li Yan, making Li Xiqing realize that the usually silent Li Yan might be hiding unexpected depths.

Li Ximing pressed on, “Do you really think Li Yan is unaware? Even Li Da may not be as clueless as he seems. Rather than leave them out, why not drag them into this mess now, making sure none can stand apart? Once we kill Li Yu, no matter what happened before, it will be the four of us together.”

Li Xiqing thought it over and found Li Ximing’s reasoning sound. If they left the others out, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t betray them later. But if all were involved, there would be no escaping the blood on their hands.

Having reached an agreement, Li Ximing immediately summoned the other two. He didn’t say much, only that the man they’d tracked earlier was hiding a powerful spirit, and that even Li Xiqing alone had been unable to subdue him. He asked for their help, promising great rewards.

Li Da and Li Yan saw nothing amiss. After Li Xiqing’s strange behavior that afternoon, they’d guessed something was afoot—Li Yan especially suspected more.

Li Xiqing and Li Ximing noted their acceptance and lack of questions, feeling reassured. They both paid special attention to Li Yan’s expression but saw nothing unusual, which put them at ease.

After everyone had left, Li Yan gazed into the pitch-black night outside his window, his eyes inscrutable. Perhaps, he thought, his opportunity had finally come.