Shengui Changsheng: Start from Zhenwuwei and add some points to cultivate immortality

After three months of eastward travel, they had entered the heart of the Central Plains. The official roads were increasingly crowded with carriages and horses, and the markets echoed with shouts. Unlike the humid, miasma-ridden south, the wind here carried the scent of wheat, and the sunlight was much brighter. Su Qingwan changed into a moon-white long robe, concealing her pipa in her baggage, only revealing half of its ivory tuning pegs—in the Central Plains, showing off would only invite trouble.

"Ahead lies Wangyue City. It is said that the city lord is a protégé of the current Grand Commandant and is extremely wealthy." Wang Xiaohu unfolded the jade slip, and the third red dot on it landed precisely on the city's location. "The jade slip indicates that there are 'Shadow Guards' operating here. They are the remnants of the Demon Lord's faction's moles in the Central Plains, specializing in handling 'unclean' matters for people in the court."

As soon as they entered the city gate, they saw a group of constables surrounding and whipping a cloth shop owner. The owner lay on the ground, clutching an account book tightly to his chest, blood streaming down his forehead: "I really didn't evade taxes! It was Manager Li who forced me to falsify the accounts and even made me sell silk stained with 'Bone-Corroding Fragrance' to merchants..."

“Bone-corroding fragrance?” Su Qingwan paused, then whispered, “It’s a kind of fragrance that can cause chronic poisoning. It’s mixed into silk, and prolonged contact will cause ulcers on the limbs. The Demon Lord used it to weaken martial artists back then.”

Just as Wang Xiaohu was about to step forward, he was stopped by a scholar in a blue robe. The scholar handed him a piece of osmanthus cake he had just bought and lowered his voice: "Never mind. The owner of this cloth shop ran into Manager Li burying someone in the backyard a few days ago, and that's why he was punished. Manager Li is the city lord's confidant, and he has people in the capital backing him up."

The two followed the scholar to the teahouse, only to learn that his name was Zhou Yan, a local scholar who, disgusted by the city lord's collusion with the powerful and oppressive, was secretly gathering evidence. "Last month, the owners of the silk shop in the west of the city and the grain shop in the south suddenly 'died of a sudden illness,' and I suspect it's all related to that bone-corroding incense." Zhou Yan flipped open his sleeve and opened his notebook, which contained the names of more than twenty people who had "died suddenly." "Before they died, they all had business dealings with the city lord's mansion."

Just then, a commotion arose outside the teahouse. A group of officials carried a coffin past, blood seeping from the seams. Behind them followed a weeping woman holding a three-year-old child in her arms—the family member of the cloth shop owner who had just been beaten.

“The person just ‘died of illness’ in prison.” Zhou Yan’s fists were clenched until they turned white. “They didn’t even leave any survivors.”

The scabbard of the Demon-Suppressing Sword on Wang Xiaohu's fingertips felt slightly warm. That night, he and Su Qingwan sneaked into the backyard of the City Lord's Mansion and, sure enough, found a hidden cellar behind the artificial hill. The cellar was filled with silks that smelled strangely sweet, and an old man, barely alive, was tied to the corner of the wall. He was the silk shop owner mentioned in Zhou Yan's notes.

"It was the Shadow Guards... They poisoned us with the Corrosive Incense, then robbed us of our property. They even gave the account books to important figures in the capital to share the spoils." The old man, barely able to speak, pointed to the stone wall deep inside the cellar, "There's a secret passage there, leading to the ancestral hall in the back mountain. The Shadow Guards' headquarters is there..."

Before he could finish speaking, a cold laugh suddenly came from the entrance of the cellar. Manager Li stood at the top of the stairs with more than ten men in black, each holding a short dagger with a dark gleam: "Wang Xiaohu, the Sword Master's information network is indeed impressive; he's actually tracked us down to Wangyue City."

The men in black moved silently, their figures as fast as shadows, and the black aura on their daggers was exactly the same as that of the assassins from Black Wind Valley back then. Su Qingwan's pipa suddenly rang out, the strings transforming into a golden net that enveloped everyone, but it was cleaved in two by the leader of the men in black with a short dagger—that dagger could actually cut through the energy.

“It’s the ‘Shadow Dagger,’ forged from the Demon Lord’s bone powder.” Su Qingwan’s voice tightened. “Be careful, their movement techniques are poisonous!”

As Wang Xiaohu drew his sword, the Demon-Suppressing Sword suddenly emitted a dragon's roar. Wherever the azure light swept, the shadow daggers of the men in black shattered, white smoke rising from the broken ends. He moved through the crowd with sword steps, the tip of his sword always three inches from the throats of his opponents, yet he did not harm them, only using the sword energy to disperse the demonic energy within their bodies.

"Sword Master, is this all you know?" Manager Li grinned maliciously, tossing out a sachet. The scent of bone-corroding incense instantly filled the air. Wang Xiaohu neither dodged nor avoided it. The mark between his brows lit up, and a blue light enveloped the fragrance, pushing it back. Manager Li couldn't dodge in time, and some of the fragrance got onto his sleeve. He immediately screamed in agony—the fragrance, encountering demonic energy, had become a death warrant.

Having dealt with the men in black, the group followed the secret passage to the ancestral hall on the back mountain. Inside, instead of ancestral tablets, was a black stone carved with a wolf's head. Kneeling before the stone was a middle-aged man in official robes—the Lord of Wangyue City. Upon their intrusion, the Lord whirled around, revealing an account book tucked into his robes, its cover bearing the character "Zhao."

"It's Grand Commandant Zhao of the current court!" Zhou Yan exclaimed. "He's the Demon Lord's inside man in the imperial court!"

The city lord threw the ledger into the brazier, but Wang Xiaohu, quick as a flash, used his sword sheath to pry it open. The ledger recorded the bribes received by officials from various regions from the "Bone-Corroding Incense." The last page had a map marked with the secret passage of the Grand Commandant's mansion in the capital, and next to it was written, "On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, present the sword master's head before the wolf totem."

"You want to ambush and kill me during the Mid-Autumn Festival?" Wang Xiaohu gripped the Demon-Suppressing Sword tightly, suddenly understanding why the Shadow Guards were so eager to eliminate those in the know—they were paving the way for their Mid-Autumn Festival conspiracy.

Seeing that his plan had been exposed, the city lord stabbed himself in the heart, black blood spilling from the corner of his mouth: "The Shadow Guards are everywhere, you can't kill them all..."

After settling matters in Wangyue City, Zhou Yan, carrying the account books, prepared to go to the capital to file a complaint. Wang Xiaohu infused a wisp of blue light from the Demon-Suppressing Sword into his pen: "In times of danger, this pen will protect you." He gazed at the red dot on the jade slip representing the capital, the endpoint of all clues, "We should head to the capital too."

On the day he left Wangyue City, the people lined the streets to see him off. The widow of the cloth shop owner, holding her child, stuffed a bag of dried osmanthus flowers into Wang Xiaohu's luggage: "The master said that osmanthus flowers can calm the nerves, so take them with you on the road."

Su Qingwan looked at the osmanthus flowers in her bag, then at the Demon-Suppressing Sword at Wang Xiaohu's waist, and said softly, "Don't you think that the people we've saved along the way have actually been helping us?"

Wang Xiaohu recalled Aman's Soul-Gathering Flower, Shi Qing's jade slip, and Zhou Yan's notes, and suddenly smiled: "Uncle Nangong said that the way of the sword is not limited to the sword, perhaps that's what he meant."

The road ahead stretched towards the capital, and more and more carriages appeared on the official road, their wheels making a rhythmic sound as they rolled over the bluestone slabs. The Demon-Suppressing Sword hummed softly in its sheath, as if it could already sense the storm brewing in the capital—a place with a greater conspiracy, a more dangerous trap, and yet, more shadowy places waiting to be illuminated.

And the sword in his hand and the Dao in his heart became clearer and clearer with the wind and snow along the way.

A month before the Mid-Autumn Festival, the atmosphere in the capital was already subtly tense. Zhuque Avenue was bustling with carriages and horses; the carriages of officials were completely covered with brocade, and the sound of their wheels rolling over the bluestone slabs always carried a barely perceptible urgency. Wang Xiaohu and Su Qingwan found an inn facing the street to stay in. Their window faced the back wall of the Grand Commandant's mansion—a wall over ten feet high, covered in green vines, and through the vines, one could vaguely see the glint of guards' swords.

"Grand Commandant Zhao is in charge of the Imperial Guards, and his private guards in his residence outnumber the Imperial Guards in the capital." Su Qingwan spread out the account book she brought from Wangyue City, her fingertip pointing to the page on "Mid-Autumn Festival Gifts." "The account book says that he will present His Majesty with a 'Soul-Suppressing Pearl' at the Mid-Autumn Festival family banquet, claiming that it can ensure the peace and prosperity of the country. In reality, it is an evil object made from the souls of a hundred children, just like the Demon Lord's 'Soul-Capturing Technique' back then."

Wang Xiaohu stroked the hilt of the Demon-Suppressing Sword. The dragon pattern on the sword seemed to respond, emitting a faint blue light: "Those children are mostly hidden in the mansion." He recalled the crying he heard behind the rockery in the back garden when he sneaked into the Grand Commandant's mansion last night—as faint as a mosquito's buzz, yet it pierced his eardrums painfully.

Just then, a commotion arose downstairs. A man dressed in coarse cloth was being held down by two constables. The man clutched a rag doll tightly in his arms, the doll's clothes stained with blood. "My daughter was clearly taken into the Grand Commandant's mansion by you! You said the mansion needed an embroiderer, how come she's disappeared after going in?" One of the constables kicked him in the chest. "Nonsense! What kind of place is the Grand Commandant's mansion? How dare you act so wildly?" The shopkeeper nearby quickly stepped in to smooth things over, slipping some silver coins to the constables and whispering, "Brother Wang, please stop making a scene. Didn't Zhang the Butcher's son and Li the Tailor's daughter both die like this recently? Everyone knows that once you enter the Grand Commandant's mansion, you never come out..."

The man's cries were like a dull knife cutting flesh, and Wang Xiaohu gripped his sword sheath tightly. After nightfall, he sneaked into the Grand Commandant's mansion again. This time, Su Qingwan used the sound of her pipa to distract the patrolling guards, while he went straight to the back garden. Sure enough, there was a hidden door on the stone wall behind the artificial hill, with a door knocker in the shape of a ferocious wolf's head—the same mark as those of Black Wind Valley and Broken Cloud City.

Behind the hidden door was a damp tunnel, torches licking at the rock walls on either side, reflecting the mottled bloodstains on the walls. After walking for about half an incense stick's time, the sound of an iron gate slamming shut came from ahead, accompanied by the sobbing of a child. Wang Xiaohu held his breath, pressing his ear against the door to listen. A sinister voice came from inside: "The time is almost up. Take these ten to the Soul Refining Pool. Lord Zhao is waiting to use fresh souls to consecrate the pearl."

He burst through the door and saw more than a dozen children locked in iron cages. The youngest was only three or four years old, and the oldest was no more than ten. They were all huddled in a corner, terrified. Several shadow guards dressed in black were opening the cage doors, the chains in their hands dragging on the ground with a grating sound.

"It's you again, you troublemaker!" The lead shadow guard recognized Wang Xiaohu and swung his sword to strike. The Demon-Suppressing Sword was drawn in response, its azure light cascading like a waterfall. The weapons in the shadow guards' hands were instantly shattered, and their black clothes tore open, revealing skin etched with wolf heads—they were actually remnants of the Demon Lord's forces, even more refined than the Black Stone Guards.

"Where is the Soul-Suppressing Pearl?" Wang Xiaohu pressed the tip of his sword against the shadow guard's throat, the azure light forcing the guard's demonic energy to surge. The shadow guard grinned maliciously, spitting out blood: "Too late... The pearl is complete, awaiting only the Mid-Autumn Festival sacrifice. When His Majesty dies then, the world will belong to our Demon Lord's Palace!"

Before the words were even finished, a loud explosion suddenly came from deep within the tunnel, and the entire passage shook. Su Qingwan's voice came from outside: "Xiao Hu, run! They've detonated gunpowder and are trying to seal the tunnel!"

Wang Xiaohu cleaved open the lock of the iron cage with a single sword stroke, picked up the youngest child, and said, "Come with me!" The children were so frightened that their legs went weak, but the eldest boy wiped away his tears and pulled up his companion beside him, saying, "My dad said that if we meet someone who can save us, we can't be afraid to die!"

The group ran frantically along the tunnel, the flames behind them growing ever closer. Su Qingwan's pipa music formed a barrier, blocking the falling rocks, but two of the strings snapped due to excessive strain. The moment they emerged from the hidden door, the entire tunnel collapsed with a deafening roar. Wang Xiaohu turned and swung his sword, the azure light stopping the pursuing shadow guards and the falling rocks, but his palm was struck and bled.

After settling the children in a dilapidated temple outside the city, the eldest boy suddenly pulled out a jade pendant from his pocket. The pendant was engraved with the character "Zhao": "I found this on the Shadow Guards. I heard them say that on Mid-Autumn Festival, a person wearing a bronze mask will come to collect the Soul-Suppressing Pearl. That person is... the 'Young Master' of the Demon Lord's Palace."

Wang Xiaohu's heart skipped a beat—Nangong Wan once said that after the Demon Lord died, his heart meridian was refined into a "Demon Core" and hidden in the body of a mysterious young master. If the young master obtains the Soul-Suppressing Pearl, the Demon Core will awaken and reproduce the Demon Lord's power in the past.

On the eve of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the capital was brightly lit and decorated, with every household preparing to admire the moon. Wang Xiaohu and Su Qingwan, however, mingled with the food delivery team and sneaked into the Grand Commandant's mansion once more. The main hall was brightly lit, and Grand Commandant Zhao was kneeling before an ebony box, from which a faint red light emanated—it was the Soul-Suppressing Pearl.

“Young Master, the time is almost here. As you instructed, I have put ‘Heart-Corroding Powder’ in the mooncakes. At that time, all the officials and His Majesty will…” Before Zhao Taiwei could finish speaking, he was interrupted by a cold voice: “Useless trash. If it weren’t for the fact that you are still somewhat useful, I would have turned you into a skeleton long ago in Wangyue City.”

A young man in a purple robe emerged from behind the screen, wearing a bronze mask with a wolf's head identical to the one on the black stone in the ancestral hall. He walked to the box, reached for the Soul-Suppressing Pearl, and the moment his fingertips touched it, he suddenly shuddered, black blood spilling from the corner of his mouth beneath the mask.

"What's going on?" Grand Commandant Zhao exclaimed in surprise.

The boy suddenly turned his head, and a crack appeared in his mask, revealing a pale face underneath—it was Ah Man!
"It's you?" Wang Xiaohu exclaimed in disbelief. He finally understood that the Soul-Gathering Flower that Aman had given him that day contained a trace of "Soul-Locking Grass" powder. Someone was secretly manipulating Aman, making him unknowingly become the Demon Lord's "vessel".

Aman's eyes struggled between clarity and confusion. He gripped the Soul-Suppressing Pearl tightly, his nails digging into his palms: "My benefactor...kill me...Father's soul is inside the pearl...I can't let it..."

Before he could finish speaking, the demonic core within him suddenly erupted, tearing his purple robes with black energy and revealing his beating black heart. Upon seeing this, Grand Commandant Zhao drew his dagger and lunged at A'Man: "The young master has lost control! Take his heart; it might still be a way to salvage the situation!"

Wang Xiaohu deflected the dagger with his sword, and the azure light of the Demon-Suppressing Sword gently enveloped Aman: "Elder Shi Qing's soul is in the pearl, I can save you!" He remembered what Elder Ou Ye had said, "The sword soul can purify demonic energy," so he poured all the power of the mark between his eyebrows into the sword. The azure light slowly seeped into Aman's body along his fingertips.

The Soul-Suppressing Pearl cracked open amidst the azure light, and a phantom figure floated out—Elder Shi Qing. He gazed at the pained Aman, then at Wang Xiaohu, before the phantom gradually transformed into starlight, merging into the azure light: "Qingwan, protect Xiaohu..."

Su Qingwan suddenly understood something. She plucked the broken pipa string, used her fingers instead, and played Elder Shi Qing's favorite piece, "Returning Geese." The sound of the strings was like a clear spring, washing away the hostility in A Man's eyes and making Wang Xiaohu's blue light even purer.

"Father..." Aman closed his eyes in the blue light, the demonic core in his chest gradually dissipated, and the Soul-Suppressing Pearl turned into ashes.

Seeing that the situation was hopeless, Zhao Taiwei tried to escape through a secret passage, but was blocked by Zhou Yan, who had come to watch the excitement. Zhou Yan, carrying the account books of Wangyue City, had joined forces with several upright censors and had already laid a trap outside the mansion.

As the Mid-Autumn Festival moon rose, the firelight from the Grand Commandant's mansion illuminated half the sky. Wang Xiaohu carried the unconscious Aman out of the mansion, followed by Su Qingwan carrying a broken-stringed pipa. Zhou Yan was directing the officials to count the evidence. The laughter of children came from a dilapidated temple in the distance, mingled with the fragrance of osmanthus, sounding exceptionally clear.

"So that's what Elder Shi Qing meant by 'returning geese'." Su Qingwan gazed at the full moon in the sky, and the broken string of her pipa produced a soft resonance.

Wang Xiaohu looked down at Aman in his arms. The silver bracelet on his wrist and Elder Shi Qing's bracelet gleamed in the moonlight. He knew this was not the end—there were still more than thirty red dots on the jade slip, and the Demon Lord's remnants might still be lurking in the shadows, but he was no longer lost.

Because he finally understood that the way of the sword is never a solitary journey. It is Su Qingwan's pipa, Shi Qing's perseverance, Zhou Yan's calligraphy, the children's smiling faces, and all those who hold up a glimmer of light in the darkness, together forming a galaxy.

The Demon-Suppressing Sword hummed softly in its sheath, as if echoing the Mid-Autumn Festival moonlight. The road ahead was long, but the direction was now clear. (End of Chapter)