I am invincible, that's why I lie down. You're using your entire clan to rebel?

Her face beneath the thin veil remained calm, but her gaze had changed.

It's like something is being remeasured beneath a slowly freezing ice surface.

"Land deity".

She repeated the four words, her voice even softer than before.

She was confirming the weight of those four words in her own way.

She did not wait for Qin Mu's reply.

Sometimes, not denying something is itself a form of acknowledgment.

She stood there, her sword already sheathed.

But her fingers were still on the hilt of the sword, not completely loosened.

She recalled the path she had walked.

It took him several decades to rise from an outer disciple of the Xuan Yin Sect to the position of sect leader.

She has seen countless opponents.

Some people are faster than her, some are more ruthless than her, and some are more talented than her.

But she had never seen anyone like that before.

A person who can remain as composed as if taking a stroll in the courtyard even after she has gone all out.

She remembered the things she had once believed in.

Those imaginings about the pinnacle of martial arts.

Those speculations about whether there is a path above the celestial phenomena.

She thought she was already the person closest to that line.

They thought they could get over it by taking just one more step.

But now she stands here, looking at Qin Mu.

Suddenly I realized that I might not have even truly touched the edge of that line.

She spoke, her voice even lower than before.

"Is there truly a path beyond the celestial phenomena?"

Qin Mu looked at her.

"Yes. But you're on the wrong path."

Her gaze shifted slightly.

"What's wrong?"

"You're in too much of a hurry."

Qin Mu said.

"You keep climbing higher, but you haven't checked whether the road beneath your feet can support your weight."

"After you reached the peak of the Celestial Phenomenon, instead of stopping to rebuild your foundation, you tried to fill that crack with more power."

"But cracks can't be filled; they'll only widen."

"With every step you take, the crack widens a little."

She remained silent for a while.

She processed those words in her own way.

Then her gaze sharpened again.

That gaze was more like that of someone rediscovering their weapon.

She was slowly running her fingertips along the edge of the blade to check how much it was worn and how much it was still usable.

"You're right. But that doesn't mean I'll give up."

She did not wait for Qin Mu's response.

Her hand had already gripped the sword hilt again.

This time her movements were even slower than before.

She was using those slow movements to adjust the position of something inside her body.

She stood there, like a tree that was re-rooting.

She first checked whether she could still stand firmly.

Then she moved.

She didn't probe with sword moves as she had done before, nor did she use her footwork to find an opening.

Her movements resembled disassembling an old item she had used for a long time.

She slowly raised her right hand, palm facing up.

The airflow around her began to change.

It spread outwards from her feet.

The gravel on the ground began to vibrate slightly.

Tiny grains of sand danced on the ground, flowing from low to high and then falling back down.

The felt on top of the tent was lifted up from below by the airflow.

Even the candlelight was dimmed.

She pressed her right hand down.

The sandy ground beneath her feet suddenly sank an inch.

The cracks spread outwards from her feet, as fine as a spider web.

A dark gray sword aura surged from her palm, advancing forward along the ground.

Wherever it passed, the cracks in the sandy ground were slowly deepening.

The sword energy did not directly rush towards Qin Mu.

It circled once on the ground.

Then she raised her hand, and the sword energy suddenly rose from the ground.

It transformed into a dark gray column of air, over three feet thick, in the air.

The sword was straight, with a dark purple halo around its edge.

The column of air lingered in mid-air for a moment before slowly descending towards Qin Mu.

It was unpleasant, yet it carried a sense of oppression.

She stood behind the column of air, leaning slightly forward.

Qin Mu remained standing in the same spot, neither retreating nor turning to the side.

Then he moved.

He simply raised his right hand, his five fingers slightly spread, his palm facing the gray column of gas that was falling.

The column of air stopped about a foot above his palm.

The edge of the air column was still flowing, but it no longer fell.

It hung there, maintaining the same posture as before.

Qin Mu's palms closed slightly.

The gray column of air began to curl, compress, and shrink inward from its edge.

Finally, it transformed into a fist-sized, dark gray ball of light, slowly rotating above his palm.

He glanced down at the ball of light.

Then I casually pressed it back onto the ground.

The ball of light disappeared into the sand without making a sound.

She stood where the column of air had disappeared, looking at the sandy land that was slowly returning to its flat state, and remained silent for a long time.

Her fingers slowly loosened from the hilt of the sword and fell to her sides.

She spoke, her voice even lower than before.

"And how many people in this world have reached the end of their journey?"

Qin Mu looked at her.

"Not many. But they're not nonexistent. However, most people who reach the end stop competing."

She remained silent for a moment.

Then she spoke, her voice not loud.

"What if... I want to see that road?"

The eldest prince, Huyan Lie, stood beside the low couch.

He opened his mouth, his gaze fixed on Qin Mu.

It landed again on that sandy land that was slowly recovering and leveling.

Then it fell back onto Qin Mu.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but his mouth remained open.

He wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat, as if blocked, and he couldn't get them out.

The air inside the tent felt suffocated by something.

The candlelight still flickered slightly in the lamp.

But the amplitude of the swaying was smaller than before.

Huyan Lie stood beside the low couch, his hand still resting on the edge of the couch.

His gaze fell on Qin Mu's face.

He opened his mouth.

"What...what did you say?"

Qin Mu did not repeat himself, but simply stood there quietly.

Hu Yanlie's gaze swept over Qin Mu's shoulder and landed on the figures behind him.

Jiang Zhaoyue, Xu Fenghua, Yun Luan, Chen Ruoyao, Yun Suxin, Han Xiner, Yin Sutang.

They all stood there, and no one spoke.

But their gazes swept over Qin Mu one by one.

Some of them already knew the answer, while others were just piecing together the fragments.

But at this moment, those fragments are slowly gathering into shapes that are either familiar or unfamiliar to them.

Hu Yanlie's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He stood there, his voice even lower than before.

"Are you the Emperor of Qin?"

His gaze fell on Qin Mu's gray cloth robe.

I stared at that unremarkable robe for a while.

He seemed to be waiting for the robe to change on its own.

But it didn't; it was just a gray cloth robe.

Qin Mu did not answer; he simply stood there.

This information carries significant weight.

Huyan Lie stared at him for a long time.

Then he slowly sat down.

His movements were slow, but he didn't show any signs of being overwhelmed or dejected.

He sat there in silence for a while before speaking.

"Then why are you helping me? You are the Emperor of Qin; you should be here to destroy Northern Mang. But you say you want to help me ascend the throne. What's your motive?"

Qin Mu looked at him.

"Because only after you take the throne can I better control Northern Mang."

Huyan Lie understood.

He didn't come to destroy the Northern Barbarians; he came to exchange them for a Northern Barbarian that was easier to control.

If he agrees, he will become a puppet controlled by the Qin Dynasty.

Huyan Lie suddenly stood up.

"Kill me. I will never be your puppet. You can kill me, you can raze this camp to the ground, but I will not work for you. I am the eldest prince of Northern Mang, and I would rather die here than guard the gates for the Emperor of Great Qin."

He spoke loudly.

There was a moment of silence inside the tent.

Qin Mu looked at him.

"What if I were the Emperor of Qin? Then you becoming my puppet would mean helping Northern Mang avoid being slaughtered. You would only lose nominal sovereignty, but in return, the entire Northern Mang would survive. Don't you think that's a worthwhile trade?"

Huyan Lie's body remained in the same posture as before.

But his gaze changed.

He spoke, his voice lower than before.

"You are the Emperor of Great Qin, and you want Northern Mang to submit. But why did you put me in that position? You should have killed everyone who could inherit the throne and simply incorporated Northern Mang into Great Qin."

Qin Mu looked at him.

"Because directly incorporating them would result in too many deaths. The tribes of Northern Mang would rebel, and the border would remain unstable. Rather than killing all the opponents until they shut up, it's better to let someone willing to cooperate take the seat."

The Xuan Yin Sect Master stood in the shadows behind the tent.

Her gaze fell on Qin Mu's retreating figure.

Her lips moved slightly, as if she wanted to say something.

But she saw the eldest prince sit down on the low couch.

He sat there, his gaze fixed on the felt cloth in front of him, which was already soaked with wine stains.

How confident are you?

Qin Mu looked at him.

"Eighty percent. The remaining twenty percent is up to you."

Qin Mu stopped looking at him and didn't add anything more.

His gaze shifted away from Huyan Lie.

He landed on the figure behind the tent that had not yet completely disappeared into the shadows.

"What's your name?"

The Xuan Yin Sect Master stood at the edge of the area behind the low couch, illuminated by candlelight.

The eyes beneath the thin veil remained calm.

She paused for a moment.

My surname is Su.

"Su what?"

"Su Shuang. The sect leader of the Xuan Yin Sect, she has held this position for seventeen years since taking over from the previous sect leader."

"You just said that you have been standing at the peak of the celestial phenomena for sixteen years."

Qin Mu's gaze lingered on her face for a moment.

"You are indeed remarkable. At your age and with your cultivation level, there are very few people on this land who can rival you. However, you should also be aware that the threshold between celestial phenomena and the land cannot be crossed by yourself alone."

Su Shuang's eyelashes twitched slightly.

She stood there for a moment before speaking.

"You're asking me to go with you."

"It's not about leaving," Qin Mu said, "it's about taking a different path. The Xuan Yin Sect can still remain in Northern Mang, and you can still do what you're supposed to do. It's just that when you need news in the future, there will be someone faster than Daru to deliver it to you."

Su Shuang looked at him.

Her voice was not loud.

"Your sword strike just now was enough to make everyone in the Northern Wilderness afraid to oppose you. You don't need me to follow you. But you still asked."

"Because you can do more than just block a sword."

She paused for a moment.

Then she spoke.

I haven't agreed yet.

Qin Mu didn't press further, he just looked at her.

"I know."

Then he turned around and walked toward the tent entrance.

The black wolf rose from the shadows at the tent entrance and followed him.

Su Shuang stood still, not watching them leave.

Her gaze fell on the patch of sand that Qin Mu had pressed back onto the ground.

Then she heard her own voice slowly echoing in her mind.

A terrestrial deity.

Emperor of the Great Qin Dynasty.

He revealed his strength and status to her without reservation, but did not ask her to pay any price immediately.

She was simply given a choice, without being pressured to make a decision.

That composure was more oppressive than any threat.

She suddenly felt that everything she had relied on over the years had become so thin and fragile in the face of this power.

She suddenly realized that she had been swept up in a current she couldn't control, and was slowly drifting forward with the rhythm of that gray figure.

Qin Mu then looked at the eldest prince and asked, "Have you thought it through?"

The eldest prince, Huyan Lie, sat on the low couch and remained silent for a while.

He raised his head, his gaze falling on the gray figure, his voice neither loud nor soft.

"What should I do?"

Qin Mu looked at him, his tone calm.

Huyan Lie did not answer immediately.

His gaze fell on the felt cloth in front of him, soaked with wine stains, as if he were re-measuring the path he had just walked in his own way.

The road wasn't long; from the time Qin Mu entered the tent until now, it had only been about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn—yet the amount of stuff piled up along that road was heavier than anything he had accumulated over the past few years.

He thought of his father.

The old Khan who had been lying on his sickbed for a long time and had never stood up again.

He recalled that he had spent two years in this camp, accumulating troops and waiting for the right opportunity, but every time he heard news from the royal court, it was the same—the old Khan was still ill, the second prince's power was expanding, and the third prince remained silent, yet he always appeared at the most opportune time and place.

He spent two years in this sandstorm, but still couldn't find the path to the throne.

He looked up and his gaze fell on the gray figure.

The candlelight inside the tent burned quietly between the two, casting a faint, warm glow on the silhouette of the figure.

He spoke, his voice low, with a calmness as if he were slowly setting down an old object: "To hand over all the intelligence to you is tantamount to completely surrendering to the Great Qin."

Qin Mu did not deny it.

Huyan Lie continued, "That would be tantamount to betraying Northern Mang and betraying our ancestors. After I die, I won't even be qualified to be worshipped. Those who once followed me will think I betrayed them, and I will be written into every history book of Northern Mang, becoming a repeatedly cited negative example."

He paused for a moment: "But if I don't do this, I will die right now. Moreover, I have no chance of winning the Khan's throne. The Second Prince has already won over most of the tribal chiefs, the Third Prince has the support of the Xuan Yin Sect, and I only have this camp and the scattered troops I have accumulated over the past two years."

He paused, as if giving himself a final confirmation before he knew it, "With your current strength, if you wanted to do something to Northern Mang, I couldn't stop you. You could have directly crushed the royal court, killed all the opponents, and incorporated Northern Mang into Great Qin. But you didn't, because you didn't want to shed so much blood. So the boat you're offering now, though narrow, will at least allow me to reach shore alive."

He lowered his head and remained silent for a long time, so long that the candlelight dimmed and the wind outside the tent whistled through the gaps in the camp.

Then he spoke, his voice not loud, but steadyer than before: "Okay."