Xi Ping searched for the exit to the immortal tool in a panic. “Shifu, let me out… Shifu!” 

Zhi Xiu didn’t answer. 

Zhaoting wove an all-encompassing net, overreaching its own strength trying to trap the demon in the East Sea. 

“Shifu…” The ascended spirit grade “leaf” was still a leaf. In the midst of the turbulent waters, it was blown around wildly. 

Inside it, Xi Ping was like a ball of yarn in a cat’s paws, rolling around so much that he couldn’t find his own head. Through the immortal tool, he could feel the sword energy under the East Sea, as weak yet as steadfast as an ant trying to shake a tree. 

Xi Ping suddenly closed his eyes, letting the immortal tool toss him around here and there. 

His eyes were bloodshot. In an instant, all his thousand thoughts emptied out, and the only one that remained was: No. 

As soon as he had this thought, a seven-stringed qin appeared in his hands out of nowhere. Perhaps because it was influenced by the sword energy left with him by the sword cultivator, the qin was rather narrow, its shape like a sword’s at first glance. As yet, it had no name engraved on it. White light floated dimly at one end, as if waiting for its master’s first song asking the way to determine the nature of its music. 

Will you take a direct approach, or make an unconventional sideways stroke? 

Or…

Xi Ping exchanged a look with his vital weapon for a moment, then snatched up the nameless qin and swung it heavily against the immortal tool trapping him. 

Ask your own fucking way, let me out! 

The qin collided with the ascended spirit immortal tool and let out a sky-shaking lamentation. With a clang, the seven strings vibrated. 

Xi Ping’s chest also seemed to have been hit by a sledgehammer. The taste of blood rose in his throat. 

But he ignored that completely. 

This exceedingly arrogant young master had never been willing to obediently do what he was told. His father hadn’t beaten the habit out of him with a discipline rod in twenty years; what could his good-tempered shifu do, when at his angriest he would only punish him by making him sweep snow? 

A vital weapon was tied to its master’s thoughts, closely joined. Some weapons that were closely entangled with their master’s fate would at a certain boundary be refined into vital weapons—for example, Zhaoting; others, meanwhile, were created through the Way of the Heart, growing in the spiritual bones, like Pang Jian’s Barrier Dispeller Bow, whose every arrow was his own life energy, shot with great exertion. 

Never had there been a vital weapon that, upon first emerging into the world, had suffered this kind of treatment from its master. 

Xi Ping knew that as long as he didn’t die, his vital weapon couldn’t be damaged. Though with his cultivation level, he certainly wouldn’t be able to break open an ascended spirit grade immortal tool, this lush green immortal tool had a gentle nature; it seemed to come from the same source as the heart-protecting lotus he had given san-ge. It was evidently a tool for defense and protection. It couldn’t very well allow the person it was protecting to die trapped inside it. 

So, completely unstinting, he used that qin to hit the immortal tool trapping him again and again. 

The debt in the Impassable Sea had its debtors. For thousands of years, the immortal mountains had laid down the soil; eight hundred years ago, the martial emperor had planted the cause. 

So what if He had been annihilated—could the heart demon seed have come out of nowhere? 

Southern He had been deluded by Moon Plated Gold. Lancang had reaped what it had sowed. Renzong was the bastard! 

Why should the evil consequences of all this fall to his shizun to sort out? 

Just because those lunatics had kicked the bucket? 

Did the predestination of gods and demons bully the weak while fearing the strong? Go flog the corpses if you’re up to it! 

For a time, he couldn’t work out the sequence of cause and effect, and he didn’t know whom to hate. All he could do was vent all his indignation on the immortal tool trapping him. 

The qin strings sounded wildly. Xi Ping spat up a mouthful of blood, staining the qin with mottled bloodstains. The white light suddenly dispersed, and a name engraved in flourishing cursive appeared at the end of the qin. 

The engraving read: Tai Sui. 

The qin once again hit the protective immortal tool. The incessant drone of the strings actually pierced through the ascended spirit immortal tool, pierced through the spirits of hundreds of thousands of poverty-stricken people. 

There was a huge sound in Wei Chengxiang’s ears that instantly overcame the roar of the sea and nearly struck her deaf. 

The sound of the strings, which was like tearing silk, sank into her chest like a hook and suspended her bleeding heart, clogging her throat with emotion and igniting all her grief and indignation. It was more choking than the restless chimneys of the southern outskirts, even more choking than the conflagration that had burned Rat Alley to the ground. 

At the same time, strike after strike of the qin dispersed throughout the mortal world. Everyone who had touched reincarnation wood and prayed to the evil god for a miracle heard it simultaneously. 

His anger passed through the spirits of thousands upon thousands of people and was magnified thousands upon thousands of times. 

Some people covered their ears in agony and sobbed. Others, red-eyed, clutched the weapons in their hands tighter. 

In a secluded little town in Guzhou, a grimy-faced teenage boy threw himself down beside a worker who had been shot dead by a bailiff with a hand cannon. The deceased may have been his father, brother, or teacher—perhaps even his mother; half of the head had been blown up by the hand cannon, and the person’s features were no longer visible. On the remaining half of the shattered face, all that was left was a single eye, unwilling to close peacefully in death. 

The boy opened his mouth but couldn’t shout. A protection amulet made of reincarnation wood slipped out of the front of his jacket and was stained with blood. It couldn’t protect him. He heard an enraged heartbeat and didn’t know whether it came from his own chest or whether he had struck up a resonance with someone else. The crashing sound of the qin that exploded in his ears was like a spark falling into oil. 

The boy screamed and threw himself at the bailiff who had fired the hand cannon, raising the iron rod in his hand. 

The bailiff with the hand cannon shrank back in spite of himself, retreating in panic, and accidentally pulled the trigger. The inadvertently discharged hand cannon sent grit flying, then was knocked out of his hand by the iron rod. The iron rod swung vengefully at the bailiff’s head. 

With a clang, the destitute boy’s iron rod and the Tai Sui Qin together struck the prisons that held them. 

The ascended spirit immortal tool didn’t move a hair, but the mortal bailiff fell. 

The bailiff’s colleague was appalled and, flustered, fired at the boy carrying the iron rod. The boy hit the ground without a sound. 

Clang—

Amid endless yelling, an iron shovel came flying and hit the killer, sending him running. 

Then someone picked up the dead bailiff’s hand cannon and fired at the other side. 

The demons were about to rise to the heavens, and calamity would befall the earth. 

The rallying cattle and sheep heaved at the iron hoof oppressing them, and the tigers and wolves shivered. 

The Guzhou mob was fighting back. 

On the East Sea, the Tai Sui Qin raised sparks as it scratched against the immortal tool. In the Suling factories, a signal flare made a welt in midair, lighting up the barebacked workers as they surged towards the high threshold like the tide. 

Uncrossable inscriptions dimmed and went out. The spiritual stones of damaged arrays, already half grey, bounced wildly and were trampled unstintingly into the mud by countless straw sandals. 

Then it was Yuzhou, Jingzhou…even Ning’an. 

Jinping’s Dragon Vein was in imminent danger. 

The wildly sounding strings of the Tai Sui Qin even reached the seabed of the East Sea. The reincarnation wood trees flattened by Zhaoting straightened their necks and revived, like seaweed. 

The ancient demon easily pushed aside the sword that could hardly hold out. Irresistible demonic energy rolled towards the sword cultivator who had dared to hinder his steps. 

“Two hundred years ago, with a single order, you could make millions follow you and wait upon you. In this way, as a mortal, you defended Jinping City from the Lancang Sword,” the demon said pityingly. “Two hundred years later, you are still you, but the others have gone.

“When luck is with you, heaven and earth are on your side. When luck passes, even a hero has no freedom…” 

At the same time, Zhi Xiu heard the horrifying sound of the smashing qin strings. His already slackening consciousness was suddenly dazed in the midst of that violent, wild sound. A series of images flashed before his eyes with matchless swiftness. This was the future! 

The lineage of the Dignitary of Fate was incompatible with the way of the sword. It had never before turned out a sword cultivator. Zhi Xiu was unconventional. Apart from when he had gone through the motions to accord with his shifu’s inherited way and instruction when he was young, the vast majority of the time, he had fumbled around for himself. Observing fate and judging fortune were skills he had never especially picked up. 

But perhaps because he was so closely tied to the only other living creature on Flying Jade Peak, in that moment, Zhi Xiu glimpsed Xi Ping’s fate. 

This was a horrifying wrong road. Bearing the evil way that couldn’t be permitted by the world, he spent his whole life passing through tribulations, being broken and rebuilt, ultimately becoming a tribulation himself. 

There was no one to pull him back onto the right track. 

No…

Get back here, you brat. 

At last, the immortal tool holding Xi Ping backed down in the face of his frightening struggles. A tiny crack appeared in it where the end of the qin had struck. 

The engraved name “Tai Sui” pricked Zhi Xiu’s spirit like a needle. 

I said, no! 

The great demon swatted at him, too lazy to even give him another look. The demon turned and headed towards the surface of the sea. 

Then, suddenly, he froze. 

The mountain of spiritual stones sealed in the Impassable Sea collapsed. Thousands upon thousands of jin of spiritual stones crumbled and turned grey as the rock snow on them before they even hit the ground. The sword light in the water rose sharply, heading straight for the center of the demon’s brow. 

In the water, the Southern Sage’s face was broken to pieces by that beam of sword energy. 

This was a sword thrust of the middle ascended spirit period…no, of the late ascended spirit period, even capable of jumping a grade to force a shed skin cultivator to retreat! 

Cracks appeared on Zhaoting’s blade. 

The flood of spiritual energy had nearly numbed Zhi Xiu’s meridians, but there was no sign of pain in his face. His hand holding the sword didn’t move a sliver. “Scoundrel!” 

The next moment, the Resurrection Vortex reappeared in the East Sea. 

Countless whirlpools surrounded Zhi Xiu. Each of the whirlpools had the face of the demon. 

The numerous visages of the Southern Sage gazed upon the sword cultivator at the bottom of the sea and said at once with many mouths, “Oh, your sword aura has changed.” 

Before, he had been a hero at the end of the line, facing conflict head on but in search of a clear conscience. 

Whether he succeeded or failed, he would have died for a cause, coming and going graciously. 

But in the sword thrust just now, he had found another preoccupation. That sword thrust seemed to cut through predetermined fate. It had a flavor of fighting to the last gasp, unexpectedly falling in line with the “Dignitary of Fate” track. 

When a person’s cultivation reached the ascended spirit level, never mind becoming a pedantic stick-in-the-mud, he would long ago have fallen into a finalized mold. Yet at this critical juncture, he could change his sword energy, cross a boundary by force! 

Could an expectant gaze truly have such power? 

“Interesting,” a thousand mouths said at once. The ancient demon beheld this tiny ascended spirit sword cultivator. “Your name is Zhi Jingzhai.” 

Zhi Xiu’s form abruptly split into hundreds upon thousands of forms in the water, and Zhaoting’s sword aura also became omnipresent. 

The whirlpools were constantly expanding outward and being forced back by the wrestling sword aura. Heavy murderous intent swirled through the seawater, crushing both the human figure and the sword figure resisting together. 

Zhi Xiu’s sword figure was constantly being destroyed, then regenerating after annihilation… His human figure took on more and more wounds, and the cracks on the blade of his sword became denser and denser. 

The whole seabed of the East Sea was covered with sword cuts, taking on the appearance of the solitary peak of the snow-capped mountain in the confusion. 

The sword aura that disregarded boundaries and risked everything on a single throw passed through the crack Xi Ping had knocked into the immortal tool and hit the rebellious disciple head on. Xi Ping was shaken. The threateningly vicious Tai Sui Qin vanished from his hands. 

Xi Ping lost his balance and fell face first inside the immortal tool. He was splashed all over by the seawater seeping in. 

He instinctively reached out a hand to prop himself up. The remaining sword energy was still circling in the seawater. It cut a light and shallow wound in his palm. 

Xi Ping, who had just nearly crushed his own breastbone, actually felt the pain. He hissed and drew back his hand, raising his head in astonishment… It was as if shifu had smacked him on the palm. 

Slander and praise, gratitude and resentment, friends and enemies, smooth sailing and rough seas, joy and indignation—all were hatchets imposed by fate. 

No matter where it took you, you had to take it like iron and stone, be unmoved. 

That was the path his shifu had personally shown him. 

Xi Ping’s overexcited consciousness was splashed sober by the seawater. Through the reincarnation wood, screaming noise poured into his ears. At the same time, he felt a faint barrier between himself and the reincarnation wood… Shifu had put a prohibition there. 

Xi Ping was excellent at understanding others’s intentions. He took one look at this prohibition and understood shifu’s apprehensions and protection. 

He thought, Since no matter what fate comes your way, you should meet it all with a heart like iron and stone, then what is the difference between a smooth road and a wrong one? 

And what was the difference between love and hate? 

No one should be making arrangements for him, not Liang Chen or the heart demon, not Jiang Li or san-ge…and not shifu, either. 

With the first note that the Tai Sui Qin played, Xi Ping simply broke Zhi Xiu’s prohibition from within. The noise in his ears instantly multiplied countless times. At the same time, his consciousness, unlimited and unobstructed, linked to all the world’s reincarnation wood, alive or dead. 

Almost instantly, someone noticed. The Dignitary of Fate High Elder Zhang Jue landed in a white mist in front of a reincarnation wood tree and reached out to touch its trunk with a grave expression. 

A couple of figures landed beside him. One of them said, grimly, “Yuan Hui?” 

Xi Ping simply channeled the hither seal into his spirit and stamped it on his spiritual foundation. The hither seal instantly crumbled to pieces, and Xi Ping seemed to have been carelessly squeezed into a ball. 

Reincarnation wood grew easily and wasn’t useful for timber. It liked to grow wildly in the cracks between the stones of cliffs. The hither seal only fell on Xi Ping’s spiritual foundation for a moment, and for that moment it brought all the world’s reincarnation wood “hither.” For shed skin cultivators, this was already sufficient. 

Calamitous waves seethed in the East Sea. The whirlpools assembled into one. 

Eight centuries of resentment surged towards the sky. The faces of all those who had died on the altar appeared in the whirlpool, screaming as they collided with Zhaoting. 

At this, Zhaoting shattered. But the sword light didn’t disperse. It cut through the center of the whirlpool. 

The demon that was about to struggle free of the seawater halted. The next moment, the regenerated reincarnation wood forest caught the sword cultivator’s sinking body. The three extant shed skin high elders of Xuanyin Mountain flew out of the reincarnation wood forest. Acting in unison, they temporarily cut this area of the sea off from the mortal world. 

Time and space stagnated. The Bell of Tribulation rang.