Unaware that Xue Daoyong had received a secret letter from the capital, and unaware that Changsun Wuchou had already sent a secret letter to the noble clan beyond the frontier, from Li Guanyi's perspective, he could only feel the mounting pressure, as if a storm was gathering on all sides.
The Astrological School of the Eastern Lands, the Yin-Yang School's top-three-ranked Sīmìng (Controller of Fate), the retainers under the Marquis beyond the border of Ying Country, and the Xue family placing pieces on the board—all signs pointed to upheaval. The world was changing, and powerful figures lay in wait like storm clouds rolling across a great lake, thunder rumbling below.
Though no one spoke of it, Li Guanyi more and more sensed the importance of power. He yearned to break through, to reach that special level recognized by the major sects and factions. Ever since Changsun Wuchou arrived, Xue Daoyong seemed more preoccupied, often silent and deep in thought.
Li Guanyi spent more and more time cultivating in the secret realm. And every time he returned, the Controller of Fate found him with ease.
Clang!
A crisp sound rang out—chopsticks knocking against the table.
The Controller of Fate sat beside Li Guanyi on a stool. The massive black tortoise lay quietly nearby.
They were in the same tavern the old shopkeeper from Huichun Hall had once taken Li Guanyi to. The Controller liked this kind of place. He sipped a one-wen cup of liquor slowly, eyes turned toward the street. "The sky's brewing with clouds again. Looks like old Zu will be arriving soon…"
"A great upheaval is coming."
Li Guanyi remembered. A few days ago, when Changsun Wuchou arrived, this old master had hurried over and mentioned that a Mister Zu would be coming. When Li asked why, the old man only smiled and pointed toward Jiangzhou City, saying, "To stir up this stagnant pond, of course."
With the black tortoise's explanation, Li Guanyi roughly understood. This Mister Zu was a master of number arts, headed to Jiangzhou to rescue General Yue.
The Controller sipped the strong liquor, made from the root of a certain plant. It had a throat-scorching bite but no fragrant bouquet—perfect for laborers who just wanted a sharp burn rather than subtlety.
The old man smacked his lips after a gulp and shook his head with satisfaction. Compared to the imperial sacrificial wine, this had far more flavor. He looked at the young man and smiled, "You're thinking about breaking through—wanting the highest tier of cultivation. In the Military School, it's the Hundred-Battle Sacred Body. In the Daoist School, the Innate Dao Embryo. For Buddhists, it's reincarnation."
"Confucians look for Heaven's Mandate. Mohists seek righteousness."
"In our lineage, it's not just about combat strength—it's about aligning with Heaven, Earth, and humanity."
Li Guanyi asked, "What is Heaven and Earth?"
The Controller chuckled and pointed to the sky. "Can't you feel it already? Read the histories—every time chaos brews, talents emerge, like waves surging through the rivers and seas. Only then do dragons take flight."
"Right now, this little Guanyi City is a convergence point for the world's destiny. Not the greatest one, but not minor."
"Chen Country will soon hold a grand ancestral sacrifice in two months."
"Such a ritual requires a great Yin-Yang master like me, and a grand master of calculation—like old Zu, the strongest of his generation. He'll enter Jiangzhou soon and has the power to persuade the emperor of Chen to change certain decisions."
"His divination can also break the array imprisoning General Yue."
"They'll try to stop him from entering the capital."
"And, likely, they've already tried to assassinate him."
Assassination.
Li Guanyi asked, "Will that senior be safe once he reaches Guanyi City?"
The old man, drunk but clear-eyed, said, "That's why we need to build momentum here. We'll hold a gathering of renowned scholars—something to draw the world's gaze. Only then can Mister Zu step into the light. Then, no one will dare touch him."
"Those who tried to kill him before… will be the ones protecting him."
"Strange, right? I think it's strange too."
"Those folks in the capital are contradictory."
"They want to do things secretly and don't want others to find out."
"Some things in the shadows are worthless—they'll send assassins even for famous people. But once something is in the open, it becomes a matter so massive that even ten thousand gold taels can't suppress it. Then even if you insult them to their face, they must endure it."
The Controller stroked his beard and mused, "It's like taking a piss. I could do it at the base of an old tree—comfortable, no consequences. But what if I did it on the tree at the emperor's grave?"
"And someone saw me?"
"What if the one who saw it was the emperor himself?"
"Isn't that different?"
"Even if he didn't care, he'd still get mad because of the symbolism. That's the power of momentum—everyone in the pond of the world is influenced by it."
Looking at the sky, the Controller turned serious for once.
"But those are just the ramblings of an old man. Don't take it too seriously. Look—all the sects are gathering here. A grand literary event is happening. Wenqi (literary energy) will surge. That's the momentum. And for Mister Zu, stepping into this spotlight is like a trapped dragon escaping in a game of Go."
Li Guanyi asked, "Why not go out and receive him?"
The old man was silent for a long moment. His eyes, though drunk, were clear. He said softly:
"If we could meet him outside, that'd be good too. But the truth is, we don't know who among the so-called scholars can be trusted. Who might betray us? Warriors aren't always brave, and scholars aren't always upright."
"Under that armor—wolf or hero? Behind those robes—swine or virtue?"
"We can't tell. Not even this old man can."
"So he can't expose his true location. He must come to find us himself. Like I said—when scholars gather, even cowards will feign righteousness."
"Among the warriors, some will help him; others will block him."
"This time, Mohists, Daoists, Confucians, Jianghu sects, the court, warriors—all forces converge in Guanyi City like dragons and tigers. You say this isn't a turning point in the tides of history? If you can leap through this… your foundation will be solid."
The Controller patted Li Guanyi's shoulder.
Let out a winey burp.
Sprayed the youth with liquor breath.
His eyes were bleary like a drunkard's; his words had sounded like drunken nonsense.
Li Guanyi paid the bill. Rain was falling—a gentle spring drizzle. He left the old man with a spare umbrella, then stepped into the rain, black blade at his side.
The old Controller looked out slowly, watching the raindrops fall like a beaded curtain, splashing into puddles.
He counted softly to himself: one, two, three, four, five… then burst out laughing.
The chubby shopkeeper smiled, "Old sir, your talk of the world just now was quite insightful."
Men loved grand discussions.
The old man slapped the table, laughed heartily, and said proudly:
"A bit rough, but close enough!"
"This world's big and small matters, in the end, are no different than taking a good piss!"
The shopkeeper nodded cheerfully.
The Controller wobbled over, poured a bowl of liquor, and set it before the black tortoise.
The tortoise lowered its head and drank. The old man gazed at the sky.
His eyes could see the forces of fate gathering—tides of qi. The Mohists, Daoists, Confucians, Yin-Yang masters, the court, the martial world, scholars, warriors—they all converged.
He tapped chopsticks against the table and cups—ding ding dang dang—a rhythm blending with the sound of rain as if forming a strange melody.
The tortoise drank. The Controller sang with a farmer's rough voice:
"With fair weather and peace, the people rejoice,
Unlike the nobles in crimson robes.
The world's their field, they harvest at will,
The people mere cattle, driven as they please.
Scholars praise grand talent,
Warriors boast of brute might.
They recite poems, compose verses, sing songs—flawless all.
Slick tongues, polished lies—they record everything!"
"Peace!"
"They cry peace!"
"In purple, red, and pink they boast of peace,
While common folk live like pigs and dogs."
"Told to step forward—they don't dare step back,
Raise the left foot—they dare not lift the right.
Spun around and struck from behind,
Stirred so mad they grab their blades,
And split the world in two!"
"Only to be doused by a single piss—left helpless."
"Three hundred years of silent endurance,
Laughed at by the so-called heroes of this grand age!"
"Hahahaha—laughed at by the so-called heroes of this grand age!"
He knocked over the cups and bowls, and collapsed face-first onto the table, drunk and asleep, white hair scattered.
His drunken song ended in wildness, but also in grandeur—like rain fading away.
Drunk beneath a grass-roofed hut.
True freedom.
Li Guanyi turned and looked at this strange, ridiculous yet grand old man, unsure whether he was muddled or magnificent. Then he left.
The rain grew heavier. The youth, dressed in black and bearing a blade, walked across the stone road, rain dripping from his umbrella.
Ahead, he saw a group of people—wearing straw rain hats, straw sandals, hair bound with black cords.
At their waists were heavy black swords.
Li Guanyi brushed past them.
The frontman met his gaze, but Li Guanyi did not flinch.
Beside the man, a strange beast invisible to the naked eye paced quietly.
Another one…
Li Guanyi's yearning for a breakthrough only grew stronger.
Three days later, in the secret realm.
The heavy blade was knocked aside. His opponent thrust forward with a spear.
Li Guanyi spun, his blade flashing like a butterfly. As he turned, he released the weapon—letting it spiral and slash.
The blade howled through the air, razor-sharp.
But the starforce-formed opponent made only a small motion, and with a flick of the spear, disarmed him.
Li Guanyi kicked the spear, curled his body, grabbed the weapon, and shoulder-charged the enemy, who rolled onto a stone platform and retrieved another spear.
Focused, coiled like a tiger, he charged.
Li Guanyi stabbed forward with force.
Their spears clashed.
At the side, the spirit of General Xue watched leisurely.
After countless defeats and deaths, Li Guanyi finally learned to wield long weapons.
He gripped the spear at its base—tucked at his waist—rotating his wrist with every thrust. The spear twisted with spiral force.
This was the battlefield spear technique.
A spear 1.4 zhang long—about 4.6 meters in modern units.
Not something most could wield.
But once mastered, it offered an immense advantage in cold weapon combat—unless facing qi techniques or advanced techniques, it held superiority.
This time, Li Guanyi swept aside his opponent's weapon and finally, with a single shining arrow-like strike, defeated him.
The enemy shattered into starlight.
Li Guanyi had grown used to this kind of slaughter.
No longer did he waste effort like in his first fight with the Tiele prince. He could now sit in meditation and absorb starforce.
After explaining footwork-based combat tactics, General Xue said no more. He just watched Li Guanyi and stroked his chin.
With a smile in his eyes, he said:
"You've been coming here for a while—over twenty days. Defeated quite a few opponents. Your starforce is nearly refined."
He narrowed his eyes:
"Looks like… the time to break through is near."
(End of Chapter)