The Blind Wolf King seemed to be neither old nor blind. He didn’t even look much like a person from Li. Large patches of shadow cut across his lean face. His flat wrist wasn’t even as wide around as a man’s grasp. Its protruding tendons and bones were connected to a bloodless hand. He was nearly buried in his thick fox-fur robe.

Amid Northern Li’s crowd of big, strong-featured faces, with him sitting across from Zhou Ying, you couldn’t say which of them was frailer. They looked rather like two sickly sprouts that had climbed out of the same salt lick.

Zhou Ying had grown up in Guangyun Palace. Each and every one of his movements was cultured and regulated. Sitting there, he still had some backbone. But this Blind Wolf King was like a noodle that had been soaked overnight and was coiled up all limp and moldering. He could hardly keep his eyes open. “Who are you to Xi Zhengde? You look rather alike… Not the eyes, though.”

Zhou Ying answered, “His nephew.”

“Oh, no wonder,” the Blind Wolf King mumbled indistinctly, as if he had just drunk snow wine, then languorously said, “That little devil. He sure knows how to live. He’s had a pretty peaceful time these last few years. He only used up that sword attack I gave him just now, when Jinping got turned upside down. Who did he stick with it?”

“Western Chu’s Heartless Lotus,” said Zhou Ying.

The Blind Wolf King froze, his eyes instantly opening. He stuck a slender neck out of his fox-fur robe. “Who? That eyelash-batting monster from Western Chu?”

Seeing Zhou Ying nod, the Blind Wolf King suddenly laughed loudly. His naturally thin willow leaf brows were more precise than if they had been trimmed, but the outlines of his features were very deep. His appearance lay somewhere between effeminate and sinister. But this laugh was very bold. “Your Xuanyin Mountains’ shed skins and ascended spirits are thick on the ground as dumplings boiling in a pot, you’ve got those Heaven’s Design—Earth’s Chickens—whatever running around all over the place…and in the end, none of them caught that baldy. Instead, he got stabbed by a sword attack I passed off to a mortal to protect himself with eight hundred years ago?”

Zhou Ying cupped his hands. “I have not yet expressed my thanks, Wolf King.”

“No need for thanks.” The Wolf King waved a hand. “I’m not sure I’d be able to catch the Heartless Lotus myself—good for Xi Zhengde! Ah, none of these whelps I have here are up to the mark. If he’d stayed here to be my disciple, how could that good-for-nothing have gotten to be the Snow Wolf?”

The Crown Prince Snow Wolf next to them kept his head down. His expression couldn’t be seen clearly.

The Blind Wolf King didn’t give him so much as a glance. He suddenly seemed to become a little interested in Zhou Ying. He shuffled fluffily towards him. “Little devil, since you’re Xi Zhengde’s nephew, is your spiritual sense strong?”

Zhou Ying raised his eyes slightly. The faintly discernible heart demon seed in his eyes showed a trace of itself. “It’s acceptable.”

The Blind Wolf Kind met his eyes and immediately leaned back. “What the hell have you put into your eyes?!”

Zhou Ying smiled without answering.

The Blind Wolf King suddenly remembered something. “Wait a moment, what did they just say your name was? I seem to recall Xi Zhengde’s nephew is…”

The Crown Prince Snow Wolf deferentially prompted, “Southern Wan’s Prince Zhuang, Zhou Ying.”

Having heard this, the Blind Wolf King slowly sat up straight, staring thoughtfully at Zhou Ying. “You’re that pestilential paramount spiritual sense from Southern Wan. I know what you’re here for, then.”

Zhou Ying sat upright across from him and composedly poured himself a cup of tea.

“Tradition has it…that the Sword Ancestor was the first person in the world to form a heart and enter a way, and the Kunlun Mountains are the first spiritual mountains, the origin of all mountains. The divine tool of the mountains, the Ceaseless Mirror, can resolve all doubts,” the Blind Wolf King said. “You’ve come for the Ceaseless Mirror.”

Zhou Ying said, “The Wolf King is wise.”

The Blind Wolf King waved a hand. “Won’t do. Give it up, kid. Do you think the Ceaseless Mirror is a dressing mirror at the door to an inn, that they’ll let anyone come and look in it? No one knows where it’s hidden. The Sect Leader, the High Priest, and Wanshuang’s Sword Slave all have to cooperate to obtain it. Why would they show it to you? Anyway, with your measly cultivation, the light reflecting off the divine mirror would chop you into mincemeat—stay with me for a few days, then head on back, I’ll get someone to take you.”

Zhou Ying’s expression didn’t waver a hair. “Events are determined by human effort.”

“When the Kunlun Mountains first formed, the old Heartless Lotus from Western Chu was also always coming over to harp on it and getting beaten back time after time. What’s the matter with all you paramount spiritual sense types? If you’re tired of living, go get yourselves some drugs. Don’t go looking for trouble.” The Blind Wolf King rolled his eyes. “Never mind the Ceaseless Mirror, you won’t even get into Kunlun’s inner sect. The Sword Slave has gone to the southern mines. That freak only knows how to kill people. She never gets up to any schemes, overt or covert. If you can’t meet her in battle, you’re not worthy of speaking to her. Forget those ‘Three Shoes of Turmoil’ or whatever, she doesn’t give a damn about them, and she wouldn’t condescend to ally with you people. If Southern Wan can’t hold on to their mines, she’ll be happy to take over.”

Having heard this, Zhou Ying nodded. “Thank you for your guidance, Wolf King.”

“…What?” said the Blind Wolf King. “What guidance?”

At Xi Ping’s end, Wei Chengxiang, having carried off Yao Qi’s disciple name token, had just turned up a slight trace—a Turmoiler who came seeking refuge had seen Yao Qi and Chang Jun fleeing in a steam carriage. When he’d set out from the southern mines, Yao Qi had certainly wanted to run back to Wan. His starting point and ending point were obvious. Following the Turmoiler’s clue, Wei Chengxiang and her team quickly found the steam carriage abandoned in the rain.

Searching the car, she turned up a pocket watch that had been broken when it fell. On it was a rather fashionable little compass needle. Masters who flew through the sky and burrowed into the earth in this backwater had no interest in a mortal trick like this: the compass needle was pointing in the wrong direction.

Wei Chengxiang squeezed her dice and cast them; they came up all-of-a-kind. She immediately went in pursuit, holding the disciple name token.

Xi Ping had just instructed her to be careful when he heard a message from Zhou Ying: “Wanshuang’s Sword Slave refuses peace talks. She believes that while she is overseeing Northern Li’s mining area, she needs no allies. Kunlun won’t see me, either.”

Xi Ping frowned. “So we can’t get through this way.”

As he kept an eye out in Wei Chengxiang’s direction, he quickly calculated: Northern Li was quite strong; it wouldn’t be susceptible to trickery and deceit. It seemed they would have to temporarily avoid its spearhead…

Zhou Ying interrupted his train of thought: “What I mean is, you just have to make her need us.”

“…San-ge,” said Xi Ping, “you’ve only been gone a few days, why has your accent changed already? Say that again, I didn’t hear it clearly. What?”

Zhou Ying patiently said, “If a shed skin wants to conceal her whereabouts, the major and minor evil cultivators of the Land of Turmoil won’t necessarily notice her. The Three Heroes of Turmoil may well not know yet that Wanshuang has come south. With the methods available to them, they might well not be worth mentioning in front of a shed skin sword cultivator. Give them a hand from the shadows. Don’t let the Northern Li people stay above it all, or else we’ll have no bargaining chips here. We’ll have no way to continue talks.”

Xi Ping numbly said, “I, right now, am in the Xuanyin Mountains. I can’t plant a single reincarnation wood tree. The Land of Turmoil is out of my reach. All I have at my disposal are half-immortal Luwu and not at all immortal Turmoilers—and you want me to plot again a shed skin…sword cultivator, and it has to be done in secret, without revealing myself, because afterwards we’re going to use this as a bargaining chip to trick them into working with us?”

“Right,” said Zhou Ying.

“Your Highness,” Xi Ping said softly, “why don’t you stay where you are and herd some sheep? Don’t come back.”

Last time in the Xuanyin Mountains, as soon as he’d opened his mouth, it had been to tell him to “hold off Zhang Jue,” as if it were that easy, and this time, he was casually telling him to “plot against a shed skin sword cultivator”! Did he think Xi Ping was the Southern Sage reincarnated, capable of punching full moon sages and kicking shed skins, working miracles on command, ready to answer every plea?!

If the Zhou family had known about this earlier, they wouldn’t have bothered raising demons in the Impassable Sea. They’d only have needed to raise one Xi Ping! Feed him anything at all, he’d be grown up in twenty to thirty years—save time and money!

“Stop talking crap, it can’t be done. Do it yourself if you’re able.” Xi Ping decided not to indulge his misapprehension. In a tone of finality, he said, “If we can’t protect the southern mines, we’ll let them go, whoever wants ‘em can have ‘em. I won’t be short on spiritual stones in the near future, I don’t give a rat’s ass. I only care about my people. Since this Northern Li sword cultivator is so powerful, we’ll just let her kill off the whole crowd of evil cultivators. She can kill them, and we’ll plug the leaks. A whale sinking to the depths creates enough resources for everything to live on for quite a while. When I’ve cleaned up Western Chu and Southern Shu, we’ll see about…”

Apropos of nothing, Zhou Ying said, “In the Wan-He War, the master of Flying Jade Peak’s older brother General Zhi Yi received orders to pursue the surviving Southern He forces. He died in the line of duty and was buried in Southern He. Did you know that?”

Xi Ping froze.

“The way the history books tell it, ‘The mad Sect Leader of Lancang escaped captivity and came to blows with a group of masters, which involved passing Wan soldiers and Southern He mortals.’ As for what the reality was, you’d be best off asking about it obliquely,” Zhou Ying advised mildly. “The Sword Slave going south probably means that Northern Li is getting greedy. They want to take advantage of the disorder among the other three nations to take the southern mines all to themselves. When the Wanshuang Sword is planted in the Lancang Mountains, I don’t know what will happen… Perhaps it will turn Lancang into a miniature Kunlun, completely alter the topography of the Southern He Peninsula. I’m afraid that will be the last straw for your honored teacher. He won’t accept it.”

Xi Ping returned to Flying Jade Peak in one step, just in time to see Wen Fei and Lin Chi going off each to his own work. After seeing them off at the gate, Zhi Xiu instructed Xi Yue to go practice swordsmanship out back.

While Xi Ping was off running around all over the world and not on Flying Jade Peak, Xi Yue was always automatically looking for him, but when he saw him, for some reason, he always wanted to avoid him, so he bowed to him from a distance and swiftly flew away on his sword.

Zhi Xiu beckoned. “Come here, Shiyong, tell me what’s happening in the southern mines now. Has there been any word from His Highness Prince Zhuang?”

Xi Ping lied automatically: “Oh, they’ve wiped out the accompanying trees over in the south, but I have other eyes. I’ve managed to plant agents beside the Three Heroes of Turmoil. My san-ge has reached the Beijue Mountains and seen the Blind Wolf King. Everything is going smoothly. We control the Xuanyin Mountains at home and have eyes all over the southern mines. Aren’t we doing better than the mine supervisors down there, spending all their time on tenterhooks? Northern Li knows whom to heed, set your mind at ease.”

Zhi Xiu sensed that there was something untrue about what he had said, but Northern Li and the Southern He Peninsula were both outside the country; they were beyond his amateur fortunetelling skill level, and there were ascended spirit masters involved, each with their own tricks. He only felt that the stars were in such disorder that he couldn’t see them clearly, so he said, bluffing, “Do you think I’m blind? Tell the truth.”

Xi Ping was a practiced hand at bluffing; how could he be taken in? So he collapsed weakly against the little cottage and covered his face with his hands, his eyes spinning quickly behind them. He wailed convincingly, “I didn’t want to upset you… To put an end to the accompanying trees, that bunch of rotten bastards planted wildfire, I’ve been stressed to death trying to get enough provisions and supplies to the Turmoilers, it’s awful!”

This was actually somewhat believable. Zhi Xiu patted him on the head. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ll have Pang Jian and Bai Ling help you transport some from inside Wan. If it really comes down to it, you can send them away in batches to your South Sea Hidden Realm… Great Wan can take them, too. Kunlun’s sword cultivators won’t make trouble for mortals.”

Xi Ping felt something on Zhi Xiu’s hand rubbing against his head. He looked up between his fingers and saw that archery ring on his hand.

When he had casually asked about it last time, shifu hadn’t picked up the subject. Tying it in what Zhou Ying had just told him…

Xi Ping rolled over and sat up. Contrary to Zhou Ying’s instructions, he didn’t try asking obliquely. He said straightforwardly, “I haven’t seen that thumb ring before, and it’s the wrong size. My san-ge says your older brother died in service to the country during the Wan-He War. Shifu, was that thumb ring his?”

Zhi Xiu, startled by his candor, drew his hand back.

Xi Ping said, “I thought it was strange when I saw it that day. Aren’t all archery rings made of rustproof Moon Plated Gold? Moon Plated Gold hadn’t become popular yet back then, right?”

Zhi Xiu slowly twisted that overly loose thumb ring. “Yes… As young as you are, you actually know when Moon Plated Gold became popular?”

“I do,” said Xi Ping. “Great Wan’s first gold smelting furnace is in Suling. The year you went to the mountains, shifu, Moon Plated Gold came to the mortal world. Shifu, did you pick it up that night you went to the Land of Turmoil?”

“Do not be indecorous in word or deed”—that was what the Wan people said. Attempts and evasions were both subtle; if you avoided a question, the other person would know not to bother you about it again.

Zhi Xiu was briefly rendered speechless by his open prying. Exasperated, he said, “How clever of you.”

Xi Ping was indifferent, overbearing in his reliance on being favored. “Dear shifu, why would I be tactful? When I want to know something, I just ask.”

Zhi Xiu was silent for a moment. “A close personal possession left behind by a deceased blood relative will always have some reaction.”

Old items that stayed with a person over the years, like a pendant or a personal sword, would pick up their owner’s aura. A cultivator only had to be familiar enough with that person’s aura to locate it with their spiritual sense with ease.

And at Zhi Xiu’s cultivation level, as soon as he touched that thumb ring, he would have known what had happened to the ring’s owner shortly before his death.

Xi Ping said, “They say that it was because he was caught up in a battle among cultivators.”

“When troops go abroad, they have to carry a ‘spirit scouter,’” Zhi Xiu said softly. “You’ve never led troops, you may not know what a ‘spirit scouter’ is. It’s a special kind of immortal tool that can be used by mortals—because it doesn’t need to be activated with spiritual energy, you only need to hold it and know how to read it. It is extremely sensitive to fluctuations in spiritual energy. If there are strong cultivators in the area, the spirit scouter will warn them so they can avoid them… This thumb ring, I found it at a place where one of Southern He’s veins of the earth was severed. Go get me a pot of wine.”

Xi Ping swiftly went inside. He saw that the little cottage was covered in papers. There were blueprints for tools, inscriptions he couldn’t understand, sketches of arrays, as well as carelessly scribbled down notes, a bunch of plans for restructuring the Kaiming Department and Heaven’s Design Pavilion, for allocating spiritual stones… All kinds of matters, big and small. And weighing down the pile was an automatic abacus.

The three peak masters who had just been in here must have been working themselves to death.

“It’s said that the Lancang Sect Leader was the one who severed the veins of the earth.”

“He didn’t do it,” Zhi Xiu said. “When the Lancang Sect Leader discovered that the Lancang Mountains were ‘pilfering heaven’s order’ from the mortal world due to the spiritual stone deficit, having no alternative, he only sealed a portion of the veins of the earth, to prevent the spiritual mountains from draining the mortal world dry. At the time, while trying to think up a way to replenish Lancang’s spiritual stones, he also wanted to convey the spiritual energy back to the country. The spiritual stones weren’t replenished. Instead, because the Sect Leader fell into obsession, he lost his mind and provoked the war between the two nations. But he did in fact find a means of conveying spiritual energy back to the mortal world.”

Xi Ping had a faint guess.

Zhi Xiu nodded. “That’s right. It was that spirit-conducting gold you and Lin-shixiong have been cooking up on the sly.”

After Hui Xiangjun’s death, the Unbound Furnace had remained in Southern He. Though the Eternal Flame had been taken away by Qiu Sha, Southern He had been the forebears of the way of toolmaking since antiquity. They had plenty of superb toolmaking master. With Hui Xiangjun’s genius before them, they had by some means made something very similar to spirit-conducting gold.

Xi Ping’s eyes abruptly opened wide. “I’ve always said that ordinary Moon Plated Gold wouldn’t make for such a big deficit. So the real reason for the Lancang Mountains’ spiritual stone deficit was that they were researching spirit-conducting gold on the sly!”

His thoughts moved rapidly: once you knew the secrets of the spiritual mountains, much of the fog of history suddenly dispersed.

Apart from Zhi Xiu, every shed skin accepted by the spiritual mountains was controlled by the spiritual mountains. Why had the Lancang Sect Leader been so susceptible to the heart demon seed back then? Could it be that a mortal like Renzong had also been able to plant the heart demon seed inside the divine tool of the Lancang Mountains?

Xi Ping snapped his fingers. A history book with a copious covering of dust jumped into his hand from a corner of the cottage and automatically opened to the page concerning the Wan-He War. A minute series of cause and effect was recorded there—among the emissaries that had been sent on a diplomatic mission to Great Wan at the time, there had been an established foundation from Lancang’s inner sect.

If they had inherited a Way of the Heart and could receive “heavenly edicts,” any established foundation could become the puppet of some group of Ways of the Heart of common origin from the spiritual mountains… In other words, the Lancang Spiritual Mountains had likely “dispatched” someone to bring that heart demon seed back!

Because the heretical Sect Leader had betrayed the will of the spiritual mountains.

No wonder that though the Sect Leader had been the only one in the Lancang Mountains to lose his mind, the whole sect, from top to bottom, seemed to have had a psychological break; none of them had tried talking him down—invading Southern Wan to plunder spiritual stones had been the spiritual mountains’ intention.

“Though Lancang’s Sect Leader had come to an impasse, he maintained a thread of clarity to the end and thought of a way to return spiritual energy to the mortal world,” Zhi Xiu said. “I can understand what he was thinking then—with the four nations invading, their nation would certainly be destroyed, and the Lancang Sect would be wiped out. It would be better to dissolve the immortal mountains into the veins of the earth, give them back to the common people…like what is happening with the Xuanyin Mountains now. The common people would be fine as long as they could live and work in peace and contentment. They wouldn’t necessarily care who was in power. Had they succeeded then, there would have been no southern mines.”