Li Guanyi had vanished.
After driving off the tenth-ranked assassin in the world, Xue Daoyong and Yue Qianfeng immediately rushed to the scene—or rather, it might be said that the assassin had chosen to retreat. He wasn't a death warrior. Upon realizing that even with the element of surprise, wielding a divine weapon, and wearing precious armor, he still couldn't defeat these two seasoned veterans, and was in real danger of being killed, he abandoned the mission without hesitation.
He turned and fled.
Yet he was still struck by a punch from Yue Qianfeng. Yue grabbed him and tore off part of his Black Dragon Armor, and then Old Xue fired a penetrating arrow through his chest. The assassin spat blood violently and fled while coughing, grievously wounded.
There was no point in pursuing a cornered dog—especially since Li Guanyi was still being hunted. After this incident, both Xue and Yue had no further will to fight one another. When they arrived at the scene, they found only devastation.
Yue crouched down, running his hand over the bodies of the assassins. He said:
"...Killed by the Broken Army's Eight-Blade Style."
"Five or six assassins ambushed him. He fought while fleeing, until here... where his weapon was caught in chains, and someone killed his horse. He couldn't escape. Surrounded by five men—his spear broke, his bow shattered. From the marks here, he was hit by a crossbow. Three bolts…"
Yue Qianfeng's voice was calm.
And growing colder with each word.
He stood up and declared, "Alive or dead, we must find him."
"You old bastard, I'm not going to fight you now. That assassin came from a deviant offshoot of the Mohist school. I'll go find their base. You're the local—search this place."
His divine sense couldn't detect any trace of Li Guanyi here.
A red dragon's roar split the sky. Yue's eyes were filled with murderous intent as he continued the search.
Xue Daoyong took a deep breath, crouched down, and pressed his palm gently against the warhorse's eyes—
To close them.
Seeing the blood-soaked ground, he realized how intense the battle had been. He grasped the broken Suni Bow, turned, and hurried back toward the city. But halfway there, he encountered a group of Xue family retainers approaching. These retainers looked visibly relieved as they saluted and called out:
"Old Master!"
Xue asked, "Why are you here?"
It turned out that just after Li Guanyi had left, Xue Shuangtao had ridden straight to the Xue household.
The girl had worn a complex ceremonial dress, but even so, she galloped through the city and flung herself off the horse upon arrival. Xue Daoyong was notoriously strict—without his direct order, the family's retainers were never allowed to fully mobilize.
But Xue Shuangtao had pressed a dagger to her throat, drawing blood, forcing the retainers to disobey and act.
She had also gone with Zhangsun Wuchou and other noted scholars to the General's estate in Guan Yi City, urging the local garrison to mobilize. In the short time since the elder had begun fighting, the entire city had already turned out. They'd swept up the fugitives and clashed with remnants of the assassins several times.
The retainers, still bloodstained, let out a sigh of relief:
"So long as you're safe, that's all that matters."
Then one asked:
"Where is Guest Minister Li?"
The old man didn't reply. He only held the broken Suni Bow, eyes filled with sorrow. He pointed outward and said:
"Find him."
The retainers were confused. "What?"
Xue Daoyong's face twitched. He barked:
"Even if it costs the Xue family every last coin—dig three feet into the earth outside Guan Yi City if you must!"
"Tell the entire city—whoever finds him, I'll give them a whole street's worth of shops, ten thousand taels of gold, and a lifetime of wealth and glory!"
"Alive or dead—bring him back!"
"GO FIND HIM!!"
Meanwhile, Yaoguang had carried Li Guanyi back, using the secret methods of the Eastern Star-Gazing School to communicate with the Grand Master of the White Tiger from five hundred years ago, as well as the previous generation's Yaoguang. She cloaked the aura of the stream in such a way that even another star-gazer from a different sect would be hard-pressed to discover it—let alone a mere martial artist.
The assassin stared wide-eyed, seeming to realize something.
Starlight. White hair?
Yaoguang rummaged through her satchel and pulled out a black hood.
She placed it over the assassin's head.
Then she carried Li Guanyi, looked toward the stream, and gently stepped into the water. Her qi circulated in a way completely unlike that of martial artists, parting the current around her. The water formed rings around her body, touched with scattered starlight.
Swimming alongside the sleeping youth, she held his wrist. Starlight shimmered around them.
Her long silver hair swayed gently in the water. Her gaze was peaceful, like that of a goddess in the depths. But Li Guanyi, unconscious, did not witness it.
Yaoguang brought him into a cavern beyond the stream.
She emerged first—her clothing inexplicably dry—and then leaned back, gripping Li Guanyi's hands and pulling him ashore.
Expressionless, she bent over, hands on her knees, panting hard.
Then she looked up. Starlight sparkled above. Her stamina was poor, and she was exhausted. She stood behind Li Guanyi and slowly dragged him toward the center of the cavern.
General Xue sat cross-legged there, smiling serenely.
Above them, the rocks had split open. Though it was daytime, one could see the stars clearly from within.
Yaoguang straightened her plain robes, removed her hood, and knelt quietly beneath the stars. With hands pressed together and eyes lowered, she began to chant the incantations of the Eastern Star-Gazing School.
Starlight gathered.
Beside the cross-legged, graceful divine general, the starlight condensed into the image of another woman.
She had long black hair, a plain and tranquil face, and the same golden mark on her brow as Yaoguang.
Starlight descended.
It was a projection of the past. The current generation of youths were seated in the positions of the Four Symbols. This was the true secret realm—a hidden trump card that General Xue had prepared for the future of the world.
Only when a true Grand Master of the White Tiger appeared—along with their companion Yaoguang—could it be fully activated.
According to the records of the Eastern Star-Gazing School, starlight flows across the sky only after crossing vast periods. The radiance of the White Tiger's Seven Lodges had left its constellation five hundred years ago, traveled for centuries, and only now descended—binding together a legacy across half a millennium.
The black-haired woman lowered her eyes and whispered in an ancient stargazer's tongue.
Dim starlight gathered.
From within Li Guanyi's body, his qi finally flowed freely, connecting heaven and earth.
Though it was still daytime, the stars in the sky flared brilliantly.
Beams of light fell upon the peacefully sleeping youth. All around the cavern, flowing starlight converged into complex symbols and patterns beneath him.
Li Guanyi's breakthrough was complete. His aura burst forth and linked to the world.
"A heart untainted, a body tested in battle."
This was the finest possible foundation.
The stars coalesced. The flowing light of the White Tiger's Seven Lodges descended.
Beside the boy, the manifestation of the White Tiger emerged in the light.
It was still a cub-like figure, basking in starlight, lifting its head to roar. But nourished by the star's power, it began to change—growing from a cat-sized form to a full-sized white tiger over seven feet long.
It roared, ready to complete the transformation of breakthrough—
But the bronze cauldron in Li Guanyi's heart let out a low hum.
The Red Dragon and Black Tortoise showed no restraint, immediately siphoning the energy from the White Tiger.
They forcibly slowed its transformation.
Yet the starlight was endless, impossible to exhaust.
As if they had encountered a capacity unmatched in three thousand years of White Tiger lineages.
Li Guanyi absorbed four times the normal star power.
Only when the Red Dragon's scales fully formed and the Black Tortoise's shell markings became distinct—and another aura remained—did the siphoning finally stop.
At last, the White Tiger roared to the heavens.
Above, the White Tiger's Seven Lodges flared four times brighter than before.
To observers, it appeared that the White Tiger constellation had suddenly blazed in the sky.
On the vast desert beyond the oasis, a young man rode a camel. He carried a huge pack and wore a jade flute at his waist. An old man rode ahead, muttering:
"So it's not him either?"
The young man smiled. "No. The prince of the Turks is strong and ambitious—he dreams of uniting the steppes. But he's not a hero. His grand words come from his high station."
"It's like standing on a tall tower—of course your vision is broad. When one is rich and powerful, it's easy to seem noble. But the hero I seek must be one who can still roar even while groveling in the dust."
"It's his sworn brother who shows more heroic potential."
"They say he was born with a chunk of blood-red stone in his grasp. People call him a fallen star of blood and slaughter. His name, translated into Chinese, means 'The Purest Essence of Iron.'"
"But even he is not the one I seek."
The old man was baffled. "That one's not right either?"
"Then who are you looking for?"
The youth plucked his morin khuur and played a casual tune. He answered:
"I seek the one destined by fate. I was sent by an ancient oath to find him—to help him ignite a war of chaos and cleanse this age with fire. It sounds mystical, but others are looking for him too."
"Some are my fellow disciples."
"Their faction is too idealistic. They hope to end this chaos peacefully—but once the flames of war rise, they won't end until every hero and sage is dead."
"So I must find the greatest hero. Aid him in ending the chaos quickly. The one I seek must be a warlord of turbulent times. One whose fate soars to the heavens. One who was chaotic in youth, yet fiercely unstoppable—who rules both Metal and Tiger among the Five Elements and Four Symbols."
"The God of the White Tiger."
The old man nodded, pointing westward:
"Ah yes—the White Tiger. Those stars rising in the west?"
"In our stories, they are the god's weapons. Their edge cuts down injustice."
"In that, our cultures are alike."
The youth smiled—but suddenly froze.
Across the vast grasslands and the dim sky, seven stars lit up unnaturally bright.
The young man who called himself Po Jun (Breaker of Armies) widened his eyes:
"...White Tiger's Seven Lodges?!"
Behind him, his large pack began to wail violently. In the same instant, a bloody scent exploded in the air. The camels, which had endured sandstorms and fatigue without a flinch, suddenly collapsed—legs buckling, blood foaming from their mouths. They had been scared to death.
The old man's scalp tingled, and his heart skipped a beat. "What… what is that?!"
This youth had come from the Central Plains.
Handsome, eloquent—supposedly a strategist from the State of Ying. The western warlords welcomed him, and women left his tent every night, eyes full of affection.
But ever since he returned from the Tangut sacred mountain, he'd had this mysterious bundle strapped to his back.
He fled in the dead of night—dragging the old man along until they nearly puked from exhaustion.
They had been chased three hundred miles by furious Tanguts.
Only when they reached the Turks did they breathe easier—then looped back through the desert toward the Central Plains.
Suddenly, the old man heard a low thunderous roar—
He shivered and looked up. The world had turned a murky gray.
A violent sandstorm approached from afar. His face went pale—this was the most dangerous force in the desert: the wrath of the gods.
He was deeply superstitious. Falling to his knees, he prayed for forgiveness, even confessing the sin of peeping at his neighbor's sister bathing when he was seven.
Then a buzzing explosion shattered the air. He looked up.
The sandstorm was being torn apart.
It bypassed their location, avoiding something entirely. The grains of sand barely stung his cheeks now. He turned—and was dumbfounded.
The huge pack behind the youth had begun howling—
Its blood-written wrappings shredded in the storm, revealing a jet-black weapon with golden veins, standing between heaven and earth.
A warlike halberd with a tiger's snarling head.
Even after five hundred years, it remained sharp and imposing.
It pointed skyward.
As desert winds blew past the weapon, it roared like a white tiger. Even the sandstorm bent around it. The whirlwind of air rang out like a thousand northern giants pounding bronze war drums.
The earth trembled.
The old man couldn't stand—he fell to his knees, heart pounding in terror.
The young man's eyes, however, ignited with dazzling light. Half-kneeling before the halberd, as starlight fell and the dust parted around him, he whispered like one receiving divine revelation:
"Sovereign of the Western Stars, Lord of War."
"Heaven's firmament trembles, for the tyrant has risen."
This was a divine weapon, forged five hundred years ago and left on the sacred mountain by General Xue.
Back in the Xue family's chamber, the Breaking Clouds Skybow trembled with excitement—unable to contain itself.
Beside Li Guanyi, the silver-haired girl held his hand, stabilizing his aura. Her gaze was calm, and in a voice quiet and devout, she invoked the ancient honorific:
"God of the Western Stars, Lord of Geng Metal."
"Spirit of the Four Beasts, ruler of the directions."
Two divine weapons—one in Jiangnan, the other in the great desert—roared in unison at the appearance of that one aura.
And in the sky, the White Tiger's Seven Lodges shone brighter than ever before.
For the first time in three thousand years since the divine weapons appeared—
The strongest Grand Master of the White Tiger… had emerged.
And Li Guanyi, in the "dream" of his breakthrough—
Saw something entirely different.
(End of Chapter)