"Damn it, worst comes to worst, I’ll just fight this poison for another ten years!"
He turned around again and hacked and slashed several more times at Tantai Xianming’s vital points, before staggering off in another direction. Before he left, he made his way step by step to the ancestral tablets of the Chen Country ancestors and, after a stick of incense had burned, finally departed.
After everyone had left, inside the Underground Palace, from within the Poison Blood Pool, a hand suddenly emerged. Then, Tantai Xianming, who was supposed to be dead, walked out slowly again, having survived the combined ultimate assaults of the Divine General, the unique poison, and the Divine Weapon.
Aside from the first lethal blow, where the Divine Weapon suddenly appeared to break through Tantai Xianming’s defenses, every move thereafter by Li Guanyi was supposed to inflict a fatal wound on Tantai Xianming, yet inside his body, something slowly circulated.
"Mountain Marrow promises longevity, indeed true, yet also false, surviving at most in a sorry state."
Clutching something Li Guanyi had once seen, Tantai Xianming walked with measured steps, emerging after his supposed death. The wound in his chest from the Battle Halberd wielded by Li Guanyi still vivid, the Confucian Scholar walked out, finally sitting at the same spot he had arrived, on those steps.
His breath circulated, his bloodied body steamed clean. He pondered:
"The son of Li Wanli?"
"The heroes of the world, truly inexhaustible in their numbers."
Tantai Xianming’s gaze lowered. He dipped his hand into the fresh blood continuously flowing from his chest, then wrote on his now clean sleeve with it.
"My killer, assassin under Yue Pengwu’s command, Li Guanyi."
The elder’s gaze was tranquil as he used this false accusation to cover the identity of Taiping Duke Li Wanli’s son. Then, despite his trembling hand from the intense poison, he nevertheless picked up a dropped wine jug from a crevice, pouring himself a cup. He watched ahead calmly, continuing his calculations:
"The son of Taiping Duke Li Wanli, should he set foot in the world, Chen Country must fall into chaos."
"This turmoil will surpass the level of my original plans, and must be supported."
"Yue Pengwu, the Taiping Army, the heroes of the world... Good."
"One country in chaos, Chen fractures; one country strong, heroes emerge, the world will be decided."
"But it’s still not enough, not yet... The identity of Taiping Duke Li Wanli’s son cannot be exposed so easily, nor can he be without achievements; otherwise, he will perish too soon or, being taken too lightly, he will fail to strike at the hearts of the world, preventing Chen Country from falling into complete and utter chaos."
The strategist who ranked among the top ten in the world slightly smiled, pulling an item from his bosom—a brocade bag containing a shriveled bun. He touched it, then threw it into the blood pool before laboriously picking up the sword of the Imperial Guard that Li Guanyi had dropped, his breath heaving.
The old man adjusted his robe in front of the blood pool, and with a slight movement of his fingers, a burst of energy rose, and the sword flew into the sky, circled, and then dropped. Tantai Xianming sat there blandly, arrogantly, proudly, holding his wine and sipping it slowly.
With eyes closed, he seemed to still see his hometown being trampled by the Emperor of Chen Country’s troops decades ago.
His sister being speared into the air, and the intestines hanging on the city walls.
He softly recited the verse: "Wealthy merchants gather in splendor, from the east gate where sorrow’s tale is told. How can I bear to let my daughter fly her kite..."
May this sight never happen again.
I want, Unification of the World!
Li Guanyi, kill the traitor, earn the reputation of a great scholar, see if you can catch it.
With my head as the invitation, I send you into the world, to split Chen Country!
The last thing he saw was his younger self in the rain of yesteryears.
The cup fell to the ground, white hair and severed head, landing on the earth.
’Brother, you’re back!’
The Confucian Scholar said—can a grudge of nine generations still be avenged?
Even if a hundred generations have passed.
It can still be done.
In the Imperial Palace, the Chi Xiao Sword clearly sensed everything here.
The glow on the sword’s body flickered several times.
But because of an agreement with Li Guanyi, it subdued the light again.
Flickered on, pressed down.
And suppressed again!
At last, as the young man laughed and said, that’s fine then, as the child who had survived only because everyone had protected him, in the end laughed as he took on the burden of blood poison for others to live on, nonchalantly saying damn it, let’s fight for another ten years.
The Chi Xiao Sword could no longer contain itself.
Inch by inch, the sword glowed brighter.
And then, right in the midst of Xiao Wuliang and Yue Qianfeng’s confrontation.
A bright sword sound soared into the sky.
Enduring, enduring, enduring—