Chapter Seventy-Four: A Night Banquet in the Courtyard

On the afternoon of the next day, a piece of news shook Wuzhou, spreading like wildfire throughout the city: Liu Changqing had returned and snatched the Azure Profound Jade Sword from the Bai family.

Tong Meng received this news while entertaining guests at a grand banquet with Bu Yunsheng, the city magistrate, and was greatly surprised. This made him regard Liu Changqing even more highly. At his level, his desire for power far exceeded his pursuit of magical weapons or personal martial strength. Yet he valued talent above all—people were his capital for maintaining his grip at the pinnacle of authority.

Just as he had, in these past days, entrusted Bu Yunsheng with hosting the sects he hoped to forge alliances with. Bu Yunsheng, whom Tong Meng had personally promoted, was now mingling and toasting with representatives of various sects. The magistrate’s position stood just below the city lord, commanding respect and authority over tens of thousands. Bu Yunsheng, with his literary talent and keen intellect, was more than worthy of this post.

The Bu family had once been a third-rate clan. When Tong Meng, as a lone rider, first arrived in Wuzhou and faced obstacles everywhere, the previous patriarch of the Bu family showed remarkable foresight, unwaveringly supporting the city lord, helping him build an army and gather talented individuals, step by step establishing their current status. The Bu family had long since pledged allegiance to Tong Meng, becoming his most trusted ally. They brought glory with them—not quite matching the five great families’ heritage, but enough to be counted among the elite.

Bu Yunsheng, the new patriarch, was not renowned for cultivation—though he had reached the Foundation Establishment stage, he commanded absolute loyalty from the entire Bu clan. His intellect was unrivaled in Wuzhou, earning him the title of “Dual Genius” alongside Qiu Uncle Duan, a core member of the mercenary group. But as Tong Meng’s confidant, Bu Yunsheng held sway over all city affairs, overseeing tens of thousands of officials; such power eclipsed even the mercenary group.

For talents like these, Tong Meng was never stingy with rewards. Bu Yunsheng’s loyalty and skill naturally brought prosperity to his clan. The same applied to Liu Changqing: if he could be drawn in, Tong Meng’s martial strength would soar yet higher. Thus, upon hearing the news, his response differed from the other sects and great families—he merely increased the manpower searching for Liu Changqing.

Meanwhile, many sects within the city were preparing to depart. The news astonished them, and all speculated that, in keeping with Liu Changqing’s nature, he would certainly leave Wuzhou once he had obtained the treasure. They hurriedly dispatched messengers back to their sects to arrange for experts to pursue and intercept him; capturing the celestial sword would be a tremendous achievement.

The major clans reacted similarly. If they could not win him over, they could try to seize the Azure Profound Sword for themselves, and so intensified their search.

For a time, many cultivator teams surged out of the city.

Bai Muyun’s injuries were not severe, only his body was weakened. With two skilled healers attending to him, by the evening of the third day he no longer felt much pain. After two days indoors, he had Bai Zhuluo help him walk a circuit of the small courtyard. He found the place to be quaint and refined, though far less lavish than the homes of ordinary families, and remarked to Bai Zhuluo, “The Yang family is quite formidable, yet their residence is so plain and unadorned—what admirable family tradition.”

Bai Zhuluo’s once anxious face broke into a laugh. “When Senior Lu was healing you, Master grew curious and inquired about the Yang family’s strength and how many relatives they had. Senior Lu replied that apart from the Yang family master, there are no other blood relatives.”

She laughed so hard she could barely catch her breath. “Second uncle, isn’t it funny? This is the first time I’ve seen such a ‘family’—it can hardly be called a family at all.”

Bai Muyun was dumbfounded. He had assumed that someone who dared to rescue them against so many powerful families must have profound family backing—so it turned out the Yang family master was something of a fool. But on second thought, Lu Baichuan, who could call Liu Changqing ‘brother,’ must be extraordinary, not a common man. With such a master guarding the clan, the Yang family head would hardly be simple either.

As he pondered, Hua Mingzhu arrived. Seeing Bai Muyun up and about, she informed him that the young master had prepared wine and invited him and his niece.

Bai Muyun did not refuse and followed her.

Bai Zhuluo, having past grievances with Hua Mingzhu, felt awkward and remained silent along the way. Bai Muyun, however, possessed an instinctive perception of martial artists. He sensed Hua Mingzhu was remarkable, but lacking spiritual power, could not gauge her cultivation. He asked her directly, and Hua Mingzhu, inexperienced and guileless, answered truthfully.

She was nearing Foundation Establishment, though she had cultivated for only a few months. Bai Muyun was stunned, and Bai Zhuluo was utterly astonished—she recalled mocking several youths as country bumpkins when they first met. Who would have thought their cultivation was simply inferior, while their training time was so brief, their talent superior to her own.

The three arrived outside Yang Cheng’s courtyard, where Yang Cheng’s ingratiating voice could be heard: “Brother Liu, the whole city is talking about you—how you stormed the Bai family to seize the Azure Profound Sword and departed unscathed. Such drama, I’ve only ever read in novels. Honestly, I don’t know how to describe it. In short, it’s incredible!”

Many in the martial world tried to curry favor with Liu Changqing, but he paid them little heed. This small clan’s head was overly familiar, and Liu Changqing was not inclined to engage. “We’re hardly acquainted; it’s not time to call each other brothers.”

Yang Cheng chuckled awkwardly. “Come now, what should I call you, Old Liu? That would make you sound older than Old Lu—do you think you’re senior to him?”

Lu Baichuan’s cheek twitched, and Liu Changqing shot him a glare.

At the next table, Mei Yuchen asked with interest, “Cheng, what does ‘novel’ mean?”

Yang Cheng boasted, “See, you’re all lacking in experience. Though your cultivation is higher than mine, I know more than you. Novels are records of many fascinating stories—tales of the martial world, past history, worldly affairs, and so on.” He continued, “Entertainment is so scarce these days, but that’s alright. Soon enough, I’ll let you see some, and expand your spiritual horizons.”

The youths cheered, though none knew what a ‘spiritual horizon’ was, but anything Cheng produced was sure to be interesting. Even Liu Changqing was intrigued and was about to ask, when Bai Muyun and his niece entered.

Illumination pearls hung high in the courtyard, casting light as bright as day. Two tables were set with food and wine. Yang Cheng, Liu Changqing, and Lu Baichuan had awaited long, only waiting for Bai Muyun to take his seat. The four sat together at one table; the other was for Bai Zhuluo, Hua Mingzhu, and four youths.

Li Tianxing, with his forthright nature and no lingering grudges, felt pity for Bai Zhuluo’s misfortune and greeted her warmly. The others introduced themselves, and soon the young men and women were laughing, their previous barriers gone.

The four elders paid no heed to the youths. Yang Cheng rose to pour wine, starting the conversation and drinking with his guests.

At first, the three worried Bai Muyun would be depressed after losing his cultivation overnight, and dared not laugh or joke. But Bai Muyun was open-hearted, discussing matters of the martial world without concern for his predicament. The others could not help but admire him, and after several rounds of wine, they grew familiar.

The wine was yellow rice wine. Lu Baichuan noticed Bai Muyun’s complexion changed after a few cups, knowing he had no spiritual power and little resistance to alcohol, so he asked, “Brother Bai, as you said, your cultivation was utterly devoured by that demonic art. Is it truly so terrifying? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Indeed. When I severely wounded that demon clan master, he struck me once in return. Aside from my spiritual power dispersing, I suffered no other injury—it was most uncanny. I tried to cultivate afresh, but each time I absorbed spiritual energy, it vanished without a trace, as if there were a bottomless pit within me endlessly consuming it. My spiritual power was once immense—yet it took half a month for it to dissipate completely. Now, any energy I absorb disappears faster than I can replenish it. After many failed attempts, I simply gave up cultivation altogether.”