Chapter One Hundred and Three: The Xuyuan Sect (Please Vote)

“Click, click… crack…”

“Ah… let go… let me go. You son of a bitch, let me go…”

Li Yang glanced at the Yinqiu youth, reached out, and seized the finger the boy had pointed at him. He tightened his grip, little by little, until it closed like iron.

Bone cracked, and with it came the kind of howl usually reserved for pigs at slaughter. The room went still. No one had expected Li Yang to strike so openly, utterly disregarding the face of Grand Marshal Xu.

“Soon enough, you’ll know exactly who I am.”

He gave the kneeling Yinqiu youth—a man gone ashen, face twisted in pain—a brief look. Li Yang’s face stayed unreadable, his voice flat.

“Let go of the Young Marshal, you idiot. Are you trying to die? Let go now!”

A few of the Yinqiu men behind him finally snapped out of it and drew rifles from their backs, aiming at Li Yang with murderous looks.

“Ah… you… put down your guns! You hear me? You want to watch me die?”

Li Yang ignored the threats and squeezed harder.

Another knuckle gave way. This time the Yinqiu youth screamed and cursed, and the men near him faltered. Their faces changed from savage confidence to hesitation.

“Ha…”

Watching him kneel in the dust, Li Yang gave a cold laugh. To him, a bully like this—hard only toward the weak—was revolting.

If he had been a true hard case, if he could have simply ordered everyone shot, Li Yang might have respected him a little.

But faced with this coward’s posture, Li Yang lost his appetite for mockery at once.

“Doctor Sun, Miss Sun, I still have a few things to take care of. I’ll take my leave.”

He stood and, as if dragging a dead dog by its collar, hauled the Yinqiu youth out of the Benevolent Hall.

“Dad, Brother Li won’t get hurt, will he? No matter how reckless Xu Shaodong is, he is still Grand Marshal Xu’s son. He won’t let this go!”

As soon as Li had gone, Sun Yuran rose in obvious panic and clutched her father’s hand.

“Yuran, trust me. Little Brother Li is no ordinary person. If he dares do this, he must have backing. What is fortune and what is misfortune are not always clear. Our Sun family has already fallen to this generation; even if I wished to help him, I can hardly do anything.”

…

“Hero… wait… hero, spare me. Whatever you want, ask for it. If Young Marshal Xu can do it, he’ll do it at once!”

Staggering under Li Yang’s hand, the Yinqiu youth was in open agony. He looked toward Li’s back, no trace of his former pride left, only plea.

“You needn’t worry. I won’t do anything to you. I only want to meet Grand Marshal Xu. You were just unlucky to cross my path. You’re useful to me as a recommendation.”

With Hua Ling at his side, Li Yang dragged Xu Shaodong along toward the Grand Marshal’s residence in Kun City.

“Who are you people? Do you even know where this is and dare to barge in?”

At the gate, several guards jerked their rifles up and surged forward, shouting at Li Yang.
“Young Marshal, what happened to you?”

Then they saw Xu Shaodong behind him, his expression uncertain.

“This is no place for gawking. He is an honored guest my father Marshal invited. You dare hold him up now?”

The Yinqiu youth, face drained of all color, exploded into abuse, pouring out the resentment he had hoarded.

“Is there a written order from the Grand Marshal?”

The lead guard, still staring at Xu Shaodong being dragged, asked weakly.

“As if seeing your own father requires a pass! Who do you think you serve, you bastard?”

The Yinqiu youth barked back, furious.

At that moment one guard tugged the other by the sleeve and signaled the leader in a low voice.
“Less trouble is better. You know this young master’s temper. Leave it for the Grand Marshal. Just hold this gate.”

“Yes, yes… Young Marshal is scolding us, yes.”

The leader glanced at the man beside him, considered, then waved to the two guards still at the gate. “Open. Let them pass.”

They led Hua Ling and the Yinqiu youth into the Grand Marshal’s residence.

The first sight was a broad courtyard: blue brick walls, glossy-tiled roofs. It was not gold and jade splendor, but it carried its own vast, stern grandeur.
Soldiers patrolled incessantly; the tension around the place resembled the quiet before a storm.

“Young Marshal, what is this?”

A refined young man in tall leather boots and black-framed spectacles came forward, eyes bewildered as they took in the Yinqiu youth, then Li Yang and Hua Ling.

“Ah, Deputy Zheng. These are my friends. Is the Grand Marshal inside?”

The Yinqiu youth cast Li Yang a glance of fear and hatred and addressed the deputy.

“The Grand Marshal is in the rear hall, discussing matters with two sorcerers. He cannot meet anyone now.”

The young deputy gave Li and Hua Ling another assessing look, then smiled at the Yinqiu youth.

“No matter. We’ll simply see what’s going on then. Zheng, you go about your duties.”

The Yinqiu youth nodded toward the rear hall, indicating where they should go.
“Then I won’t bother you further. Young Marshal, please go ahead.”

The deputy smiled and left.

His confusion lingered. He knew his young master too well: insolent and overbearing. What kind of friends could ever pass this person’s standards? Even the worst of his usual companions had never once been brought into the residence.

That he had come back with acquaintances at all was a first. Yet he did not dare ask further. Young Marshal Xu was notorious for moods that changed like lightning; better not to provoke him.

“Welcome, Young Marshal.”

At the rear hall entrance, two sentries stood guard, and when they saw the Yinqiu youth, they snapped to rigid salute.

“Mm.”

The Yinqiu youth nodded and tried to step inside with Li.

“Sorry, Young Marshal. The Grand Marshal ordered that no one may interrupt him while he speaks with the two sorcerers.”

The two guards blocked the way, faces serious.

“Not even me, then?”

His face went dark, though he kept his anger in check.
“Forgive us, Young Marshal. It’s just duty. If you wish to see the Grand Marshal, wait until he finishes, or come back another time.”

“Seems Zhou Xiong was right. Your Grand Marshal is in real trouble.”

Li Yang surveyed the hall’s strict formation—guard every few steps, post after post—and smiled with a mocking calm. He pulled Hua Ling forward with one hand, the Yinqiu youth with the other, and drove straight through the guards and into the hall.

“So, Young Marshal… what are gate guards for, that they let you in like this?”

A square-faced man of stern authority rose at the far end and barked from the head of the room.

“My apologies, Grand Marshal…”

The Yinqiu youth was pale with fear. He turned to Li, then said, “Who is this friend and what business has he in my Grand Marshal’s hall?”

At that moment Grand Marshal Xu himself noticed what was happening. He narrowed his eyes to a slit and watched Li still gripping his son’s hand. A cold glint flashed through his gaze.

A father knows his son. He did not have to wonder how he had come there. This was coercion.

Li Yang, meanwhile, studied two figures at Xu’s side: one an old Taoist with gray hair and a heavily wrinkled face, the other a Miao-clad shaman, his face slightly ashen.

“I am Li Yang,” he said evenly. “Forgive this unwarranted visit, Grand Marshal Xu.”

Hearing Xu’s question, Li Yang only lifted his eyes in lazy indifference, as if there were no threat in them.
“You have spirit, I’ll give you that—you dared to breach my Grand Marshal’s residence. Say what you came for and release my son.”

Li Yang’s composed face made Xu hesitate. The Grand Marshal was not a fool, nor a fool’s son. He had built his territory with bare hands and had long practice reading men.

To stride into a place this close to the abyss and stand without fear was either madness, stupidity, or true power.

Clearly it was not mere madness.

“My courage is not small. I have come only to ask after a matter. I heard, Grand Marshal, that you found a tree that can lengthen life. I only wish to inquire.”

As Xu’s face tightened, Li Yang spoke plainly.

“Whelp, you set your heart on the Clear-Origin Fruit!”

“Hear my art: Heaven and Earth Without End, Borrowed Method of the Firmament—Pardon Command, Binding Curse!”

Before he fully reacted, the old Taoist beside him snapped his fingers. Mystical force surged, and several yellow talismans flew straight toward Li Yang.

“Ha! Little trickster artifice, trying to display it before me? Do you not know your place?”

The talismans had not yet reached him when they turned to ash midair. Li’s eyes flared into twin red flames, and they crumbled at once.

“Pfft.”

The old Taoist collapsed, spitting blood. New wrinkles deepened across his face, and his hair flashed white in an instant.

“Master Ruan, are you all right?”

Grand Marshal Xu sprang up in alarm and caught the old man before he hit the floor, worry overtaking his sternness.

“Backlash of cultivation!”

The pale Miao elder beside him froze, the hand he had moved toward his weapon stopping as if nailed in place.

“I came today only to ask for news, not to cause trouble. If you cannot honor courtesy, do not blame me.”

Li Yang stepped forward, and power surged through him.

“Boom… boom… crack…”

The hall trembled. Black cracks spread across the floor, branching like a spider’s web over the entire stone.

“Grand Marshal, is everyone safe?”

The commotion drew the patrol guards outside at once.

“No. We’re fine. Continue your rounds.”

Grand Marshal Xu’s face wavered for a heartbeat before he chose not to escalate.

This Yunnan frontier held many races and stranger sorceries than ordinary lands. He knew enough of these arts to respect their danger.

Though he held authority over vast command, before such a practitioner one had to be careful. And those two attendants beside him—hard won men—had already been nearly broken at first contact. The power before him was beyond doubt.