There was a Kaiming Department in every region of Great Wan. Because its personnel were so numerous and had such a jumble of trivialities to deal with, the number of Kaiming Departments was more than three times that of Heaven’s Design Pavilion branches. 

The Kaiming Department of Jinping belonged to the south of the city. Currently, in the courtyard, a small batch of Kaiming Cultivators preparing to assist with water transport were clumsily learning to draw water dragon talismans. 

These Kaiming Cultivators were dressed very tidily—the tidiness was overly solemn, each one looking ready to take part in some grand ceremony paying homage to heaven and earth. Dressed in so many layers, toiling away at talismans on a sweltering summer day, they were soon covered in sweat. 

But no one ridiculed them. When the Kaiming Department’s registrar came in to take a look, he only quietly ordered more ice brought to the courtyard. 

The majority of people permanently stationed at the Kaiming Department were also Kaiming Cultivators. Having just washed the mud off themselves, they hadn’t yet forgotten their origins. Naturally they wouldn’t ridicule these brothers who came from the same background as them…and even if they did forget their roots after a few years, they probably still wouldn’t dare; His Highness Prince Zhuang, who watched over them, was no Buddha incarnate. 

When the Kaiming Departments had just been established, there had been few people and many things to do. They hadn’t had enough manpower. Xuanyin Mountain had just dissolved the Mining Office, and they transferred the outer sect cultivators who had originally been at the southern mines to the Kaiming Departments. 

The Zhou family brother and sister had muddied the waters in the southern mines. Those who managed to get out intact were practically all children of the wealthy, proper products of the Latent Cultivation Temple who had opened their spiritual eyes but hadn’t been chosen by Heaven’s Design Pavilion. These people weren’t humiliated by their own worthlessness; instead, they were unhappy about being forced to associate with these lower class bumpkins. In the southern mines, at least there had been Princess Anyang to keep them at bay. After coming to the Kaiming Department, they stuck their nostrils up high enough to grow several rows of sunflowers in them. 

This bunch of sunflower pots had never had anything to do with established foundations in their lives, and they weren’t planning on forging ahead in their cultivation. They were extravagant and pampered, drinking snow wine like water. The more reason-clouding fragrant jade miasma they imbibed, the more disgraceful their conduct became. When the Kaiming Department had just opened, a few “senior cultivators” got drunk and took advantage of a female Kaiming Cultivator, driving her to commit suicide by swallowing a talisman. Grieving and furious, her companions and fellow countrymen had demanded justice. No one had acknowledged it; the superior “seniors” had closed ranks. The local Kaiming Department had been at the end of their rope. All they could do was report it to their superior while pursuing a futile investigation. 

The upshot was that as soon as they reported it, that very night, the southern mine cultivators involved had been strung up in the courtyard like salted fish, all their meridians yanked out. At the feet of the corpses, a karma mirror had been placed upright, their crimes vividly carved into it. On the back of the mirror was stuck a piece of paper, laying out which of Great Wan’s laws these people had violated. 

When it came to business, His Highness Prince Zhuang was attentive to detail, working slowly but surely, never in a hurry; when it came to killing people, he was swift and decisive. Having killed them with his left hand, with his right, he sent a Heavenly Question to Xuanyin’s main hall with polite notifications inviting the families to come collect the bodies. 

The civil strife had just ended. The thirty-six peak masters had to keep their tails between their legs and behave. The families’s people in the inner sect collectively asked for forgiveness in front of the Dignitary of Rites High Elder and didn’t dare to make the least bit of a stink. 

Interestingly enough, the four sets of laws in Great Wan that Liang Chen had once mentioned had been joined into one under the half-demon Bai Ling’s knife. 

The “instructor” who was teaching them to draw talismans watched more ice being brought and only then realized something. He didn’t use talisman paper; right in midair, he drew a very little known talisman and gently tapped it with his finger. In the yard filled with the screams of cicadas, a cool breeze rose, immediately blowing away the fierce summer heat of Jinping. 

All the sweat-covered students collectively breathed a sigh of relief. The Kaiming Department’s registrar saluted the instructor repeatedly—except in a place that was especially full of spiritual energy, an open-eyed cultivator needed to burn spiritual stones to draw talismans. To tell it plain, just now, the instructor had pulled out his purse and treated them all to a cool breeze. Cultivators who came from rich families never cared about this; after all, they even dared to go to the Phoenix’s Perch Pavilion for an ordinary meal. But the Kaiming Cultivators had to scrimp and save. Apart from when they used “public funds” for official assignments, no one could stand to casually draw talismans for private use. They were very much obliged. 

The instructor waved a hand. He looked like a young man, dressed in the sapphire blue robes of Heaven’s Design Pavilion; these looked like the winter uniform, too. He was also wearing gloves. Only his face was exposed. He must have had some kind of magic power; he actually wasn’t hot at all. 

He had been requested by the Kaiming Department from Heaven’s Design Pavilion. All the people in Great Wan who were best at talisman-drawing were in Heaven’s Design Pavilion. 

When the instructor had first arrived, the Kaiming Department had been sick with nerves—this person wasn’t easygoing at all. He had a pair of black eyes twice as large as those of other people, his whole appearance a stark contrast between black and white. When that cold gaze came your way, even the most gifted conversationalist couldn’t strike up a casual chat. He never went to social events. Since coming, never mind feasting, he had never even touched a drop of tea. He spoke as little as a mute. When others offered lengthy greetings, at best he would nod. When teaching talisman drawing, if he could demonstrate, he wouldn’t speak; if one word could express his meaning, he would never use a full sentence. 

Anyway, this was a blue-clothed half-immortal from the head office, said to have worked with General Commander Pang; he had to be far more expert than those people from the mines, able even to enter the imperial palace; could he be an ancestor? 

But as time went on, everyone found that this instructor was unusually easy to get along with. 

It seemed that he just wasn’t very used to opening his mouth to speak. He wasn’t ignoring anyone. When people flattered him, he didn’t smile, and when country bumpkins cracked jokes, he also didn’t react. Many of the Kaiming Cultivators were illiterate. They had an extremely hard time when they started learning to draw talismans. Sometimes the registrar would be watching from the sidelines, wiping away sweat, but the instructor had never once lost his patience. If a person couldn’t learn something after being taught a hundred times, he would demonstrate it just the same for the hundred and first time, his manner as natural as though this were just right and proper, not forced at all. 

It took three days to get through teaching the water dragon talisman; the registrar breathed a big sigh of relief and was just about to see the instructor out when suddenly one of his subordinates ran in breathlessly. “Registrar! Big news! Mister… Mister…” 

The registrar frowned. “What big news? Stop panting.” 

“M-m-mister Bai! Mr. Bai is here!” 

Hardly had he finished speaking than a person wearing a bamboo hat walked in. All the Kaiming Department’s veteran stewards instantly quieted down and stood up in unison. The students didn’t know what great personage had come. They hurriedly stood as well, so nervous they didn’t know what to do with their hands. 

Then the department head of Jinping’s Kaiming Department, having also received word, came trotting out to meet him. “Mr. Bai!” 

Only the senior figures in the Kaiming Department had seen Mr. Bai, who served His Highness Prince Zhuang. After the Kaiming Department had gotten on the right track, he had gone to the Luwu, becoming increasingly mysterious. 

The students, not daring to breathe too loudly, carefully began to size up this founder of the Kaiming Department. They saw that he appeared to be in his twenties or thirties, with a gaunt figure, extremely agile. Under the bamboo hat was a face that seemed to have been chiseled with a hatchet. 

“No need to muster the troops, I’m not here on official business. I’ve just returned to Jinping and have come in my lord’s stead to pay a visit to a young relative of his.” Mr. Bai casually exchanged greetings with the department head, then familiarly raised a hand and greeted the blue-clothed instructor: “Xi Yue.” 

The department head was startled. “What, Instructor Xi is…” 

Mr. Bai said, smiling, “Part of the Marquis of Yongning’s family.” 

Instructor Xi—Xi Yue—saw him, and a slight smile at last appeared on his always indifferent face. He quickly walked over and saluted the department head to take his leave. 

Mr. Bai lightly slapped him on the back and said in exasperation, “Talk.” 

Only then did Xi Yue speak: “Department head, I’m going to step out.” 

This was the department head’s first time hearing him say such a long sentence. He was so overwhelmed with flattery that he began to stutter. “Oh, oh, good, t-take care, instructor.” 

Xi Yue followed Mr. Bai out of the Kaiming Department and at once impatiently made a series of rapid hand gestures. 

Mr. Bai said, “Yes, my lord has left the mountain…but Flying Jade Peak is still sealed. He didn’t see the Viscount.” 

Xi Yue stared blankly. The light in his eye faded. 

Five years ago, that scoundrel Xi Ping had abandoned him in the southern mines and broken the dragon-taming chain. He’d had no alternative but to follow Pang Jian. It was General Commander Pang who had personally altered his core array. From then on, he had been able to direct spiritual energy like an open-eyed cultivator. With this foundation, Xi Yue had taken care of the rest of the arrays himself. He remembered everything he saw and had scarfed down the whole pile of books General Zhi had given them when they had left the mountain; he learned arrays by analogy. Pang Jian had valued his talents and covered up his half-puppet identity for him. When they returned to Jinping, he had stayed with Heaven’s Design Pavilion. 

In the last five years, Xi Yue had reworked his puppet body. He looked older and more human. But while he could speak, he was still used to using hand signs most of the time. 

After being silent for a while, Xi Yue’s sign language continued, slower: I know. The General Commander just wrote a letter to ask Immortal Lin Zhaoli. Immortal Lin also said that Flying Jade Peak was still sealed…but the old lady’s birthday is coming up. 

Mr. Bai sighed. “There’s still nothing to be done about it. There will be time later.” 

Xi Yue anxiously signed, This year is different.  

The old lady was turning eighty this year, a full decade birthday. How many full decade birthdays could a mortal have? 

Mr. Bai said, “The old lady will live to a ripe old age. There’ll be another decade. Open-eyed cultivators don’t remain in seclusion longer than a decade. Whatever happens, the Viscount will return then.” 

Xi Yue lowered his head desolately. Then it’s good that His Highness has come back…

“My lord isn’t returning to Jinping.” 

Xi Yue stared. 

“Oh, the Luwu have some business.” Mr. Bai paused, his smile suddenly becoming somewhat forced. “Wait…wait until your Viscount leaves the mountain, and maybe then my lord will find some time to come. I’ll ask you to continue looking after the Marquis Manor. Take this back with you.” 

Saying so, Mr. Bai took out a mustard seed and gave it to Xi Yue. “For the old lady’s birthday feast, the birthday present from Prince Zhuang Manor has been prepared by me according to specifications. In here is the present my lord picked out himself. I am a half-demon, and it is unsuitable for me to call at people’s homes on auspicious days, so I won’t be going. I’ll wish the old lady a happy birthday ahead of time. May her happiness be as boundless as the eastern seas, may she live as long as the mountains, and may her most prosperous days lie ahead of her.” 

All Xi Yue could do was force a smile. Mr. Bai patted him on the shoulder, exchanged a few more sentences with him like a big brother, then turned into a piece of paper and floated away on the wind. 

Xi Yue clutched the mustard seed and sighed soundlessly. Suddenly, he noticed something. When he turned his head, he saw that Pang Jian had landed behind him undetectably. 

“There’s nothing wrong,” Pang Jian said. “That half-demon Bai Ling must have passed the established foundation barrier recently. As soon as he arrived, the Azure Dragon Towers became nervous. I went out to have a look—what, I heard Zhou Ying has left the mountains?” 

Xi Yue nodded. 

“My god, that demonic star. My eyelids will be twitching for a month.” Pang Jian rubbed the center of his brow and said with a sigh, “The Luwu has been getting up to something in the north these last few days. Yuzhou’s Heaven’s Design Pavilion branch reports that they’ve sent at least another four teams across the Xia River… It makes it seem like we at Heaven’s Design Pavilion have been pretty incompetent all these years. No wonder the immortal sect actually dares to use him. I hope it won’t blow up in their faces.” 

Xi Yue frowned. 

“Oh, all right, I’ll stop.” Pang Jian raised a hand. “Bai Ling gave you a present for Old Madam Xi, right? Run along. On the day of the birthday feast, I’ll come by to ask for a drink.” 

After sending off Xi Yue, Pang Jian narrowed his eyes and turned his head to look north. He saw a white figure flash in midair and nod in greeting towards him from afar. 

Pang Jian cupped his hand and watched Bai Ling rise and fall a few times, then disappear. He must have gone back to Prince Zhuang Manor to attend to some business. The cynical expression on Pang Jian’s face dimmed. 

He had heard practically everything that Bai Ling had said to Xi Yue just now. 

That brat Zhou Ying hadn’t stepped out of the Latent Cultivation Temple for five years, and it hadn’t kept him from turning everything upside down. What could require his personal attention? Were the Luwu planning to assassinate the sect leader of Dongheng’s Sanyue Sect or something? 

He just didn’t want to return to Jinping. 

It would seem that perhaps Xi Shiyong really was…

Back then, even General Zhi had nearly folded in the East Sea. With the situation so perilous, it was probably only that stubborn half-puppet who was foolishly still waiting for Xi Ping to come back. 

Pang Jian thought, When the old lady at Marquis Manor’s lifespan comes to an end, I’ll have to find that half-puppet some more to do. 

Just then, he suddenly felt something. He took Heaven’s Design Pavilion’s token out. Seeing that the message once again came from the Yuzhou Heaven’s Design Pavilion branch by the Wan-Chu border, his head instantly swelled. 

He touched the messaging token and saw that Yuzhou’s Heaven’s Design Pavilion had reported: Xiang Zhao confirmed dead, killed by Qiu Sha. 

Pang Jian’s expression became grim. 

Western Chu was unlike Xuanyin. Chu was ruled by the Xiang family, and the capital of Dongheng was built at the feet of the immortal mountains. The Sanyue state sect was dominated by the imperial family. Theirs was the final word. 

Though they were both cultivation sects, Sanyue was far more relaxed than Xuanyin. Sanyue didn’t have such a complicated power structure, and naturally it also didn’t have so many regulations and taboos. 

At Xuanyin, even Zhi Xiu had to go to the principal peak to request a token if he wanted to leave the mountains. No established foundation cultivator or above in the inner sect was permitted to go beyond the Latent Cultivation Temple unlawfully. The thirty-six peak masters all watched each other, worried that someone would give cause for gossip. At Sanyue, no one cared. Never mind established foundations, in recent years they’d had an ascended spirit master leave the mountains to fool around; he’d gotten his passions aroused and disastrously gotten married and fathered a child. The child of an ascended spirit cultivator wouldn’t be a mortal baby to begin with; the mother and child dying together was the best outcome. The ascended spirit himself had had his Way of the Heart damaged over this and had passed away not long after, becoming the laughing stock of all four nations. 

Sanyue was lax towards its own disciples and sloppy and incompetent when it came to dealing with outsiders. From top to bottom, the whole nation was easygoing. The spiritual stone black market in Western Chu was half public, with quite a few influential figures mixed in. Those with significant family property even dared to sit on a hill of spiritual stones and open their spiritual eyes without authorization—anyway, if they found someone to make an exception after the fact and greased a few palms in the immortal mountains, Sanyue would turn a blind eye. 

The other three nations all thought that if they went on messing around like this, something was sure to go wrong sooner or later. But as long as Dongheng’s Dragon Vein didn’t break and Sanyue’s great array remained intact, apart from squabbling from a distance, there was nothing the other nations could do about Chu’s domestic affairs. 

And then something had indeed gone wrong. 

Two years ago, Sanyue’s various black markets, which seemed to be raising venomous insects, had finally turned out a big one—an ascended spirit evil cultivator had surfaced. Not a shoddy product using a demonic god’s spiritual bones to boost his cultivation level like Liang Chen—this was a genuine article ascended spirit. This person called herself Qiu Sha. The day she had reached the ascended spirit stage had been the fifteenth day of the eighth month, and all four nations had stood by watching as the mammoth full moon was dyed blood red¹. 

This unprecedented evildoer made all the great sects nervous. If not for her, Zhou Ying’s Luwu wouldn’t have been able to obtain approval from the immortal mountains so easily. 

Sanyue had thoroughly humiliated themselves. Going all out in pursuit of her for two years, they hadn’t caught a single hair off the great evildoer’s head. 

At the end of last year, Dongheng’s Sanyue’s greatest sword cultivator Xiang Zhao had personally left the mountains but later had mysteriously disappeared. With there being no word about such a great ascended spirit cultivator, it wasn’t long before unusual phenomena began to occur—Dongheng’s mountain range had an earthquake. At the time, people said it was because Xiang Zhao had passed away. 

But this was Xiang Zhao… Before General Zhi had reached the ascended spirit stage, Xiang Zhao had been called the Sword of the South. And he had died at the hands of an evil cultivator who had reached the ascended spirit stage only two years ago! 

Meanwhile, Xu Rucheng, who had just put down roots in Seventeen Li Town, also received the word. 

Xu Rucheng responded to his colleague with “received,” organized his words, then wrote: In the Snake King’s secret underground labyrinth, there is a divine image carved from reincarnation wood that calls himself Tai Sui. He is extremely strange. He can speak with people. It was he who brought about the death of the Snake King. 

Xu Rucheng paused, then added: Everything he says is a mixture of truth and falsehood. 

This Tai Sui now said that he was an old tree who had cultivated a spirit, and then he said that he had seen A-Hua. If he had seen A-Hua, then he ought to have been a tree in Yuzhou. How could a tree from Yuzhou speak upper class Jinping official language? And according to what this Tai Sui had said, he had always been fast asleep inside the divine image, only occasionally woken by the Snake King’s offerings. So where had he learned all that authentic mixed language? 

The first time Tai Sui had spoken to him, though he had been foul-mouthed and mixed up his accents, he had in all been rather normal, reasonable and able to communicate, and he had saved Xu Rucheng’s life. Afterwards, he had suddenly stopped speaking, and in order to figure out what was going on, imitating the Snake King, he had burned incense and worshipped in front of the divine image every day—Wild Fox Country’s Great Market was just coming up, a magnificent gathering that took place once a year. All kinds of evil cultivators would come here to trade. Reasonably speaking, the real Snake King would also have been incessantly burning incense and praying for protection. 

Hard work pays off. One night, his “worship” really did wake Tai Sui up. 

But this time, this Tai Sui was for some reason extremely irritable. He only spat out the word “scram” at him and viciously left the wood. 

Xu Rucheng considered, then added a sentence: His conduct is eccentric and unreasonable, his moods fickle. 

But before he had stopped writing, all the writing vanished as if carried off by a great wind, not leaving a single word behind. 

Tai Sui’s voice, for some reason somewhat hoarse, sounded in his ear: “Who are you spilling the beans to?”