A Pawn's Passage

Almost at the exact moment the Horned Dragon succeeded, someone else made their move.

Without the slightest warning, a sharp pain exploded through Qi Xuansu’s chest and abdomen. He had been struck by a blade.

The blade came and vanished without a trace, impossible to perceive or track. It had been unleashed at the single most critical moment of Qi Xuansu’s battle against the old flood dragon, leaving him no chance to evade it.

Qi Xuansu let out a muffled grunt. Lowering his head, he glanced at the tip of the blade protruding from his chest but said nothing.

It was a flying dagger. Its trajectory had been calculated to pass just beside Qi Xuansu’s Longevity Stone Heart, allowing it to pierce clean through his chest. Whoever had thrown it clearly understood Qi Xuansu intimately, unlike certain opponents who stubbornly insisted on attacking the position of his heart.

It also served as an anchor point.

Then, he felt as though someone gave the dagger a sharp tug, as if an invisible cord were attached to its hilt, pulling Qi Xuansu backward.

Clearly, the attacker had no intention of facing three Pseudo-Immortals alone. There were simply too many unpredictable variables.

Neither Hun Ahau nor Utu intervened because neither could spare the attention. The old flood dragon was not completely dead yet. If they failed to kill it properly, they would surely suffer its retaliation. Moreover, according to the plan established beforehand, their sole responsibility was to eliminate the old flood dragon. Everything else was for Qi Xuansu to handle.

In the blink of an eye, Qi Xuansu was dragged hundreds of kilometers away, pulled from the battlefield by the flying dagger embedded in his chest.

This was an internal conflict within the Daoist Order. Most often, when internal conflicts arose within the Daoist Order, blood would not be shed among its highest ranks. Instead, the losers accepted the outcome, facing exile, imprisonment, forced retirement, or similar fates.

Bloodshed usually occurred among the middle or lower ranks. Even then, the purpose was rarely simple murder. More often, it was to silence someone permanently or serve as a warning to others.

The Taiping Sect had established precedents in this regard. The Li family was arrogant and utterly unapologetic about its ruthlessness, frequently resorting to such methods. Strictly speaking, the Li family did not believe in warnings of the sort that involved stabbing someone without killing them. They certainly did issue warnings, but theirs took the form of outright slaughter.

If the Li family wished to warn Qi Xuansu, they would not quietly stab him in the chest. Instead, they would simply arrange for Chen Jianchou to die in an “accident.” That was the Li family’s idea of a warning.

Another approach was silencing witnesses. The Taiping Sect had employed this tactic as well, but not particularly well. Their methods created far too big of a commotion. Aside from manipulating procedures to prevent deeper investigations, the overall impact was nearly a strategic failure. It only worked because the Taiping Sect was powerful. Had they been even slightly weaker, such heavy-handed tactics would have backfired.

When it came to eliminating loose ends, the Quanzhen Sect was by far the most skilled. Their operations were silent, leaving no evidence behind, rarely causing even the slightest ripple in the outside world.

Perhaps this was the legacy of generations of Earthly Preceptors. From Elder Xu to Elder Yao, including Elder Shangguan, the third-generation Earthly Preceptor, the fourth-generation Earthly Preceptor, and even the current one, they all shared a certain temperament. They tended to be dark, calculating individuals who preferred political intrigue over open confrontation. When those at the top were like this, it was hardly surprising that those beneath them followed the same example.

Instead of subtle schemes, the Taiping Sect’s arrogance and overbearing confidence often made them choose to handle matters brazenly.

For example, the Taiping Sect was fully capable of eliminating witnesses silently, yet they deliberately chose not to. Instead, they made as much noise as possible, almost like an act of provocation.

This was also how the Taiping Sect cultivated its overwhelming authority. When no one could do anything about their actions, everyone eventually came to accept their dominance. Before any conflict even began, their opponents had already yielded.

The Zhengyi Sect was not as extreme as the other two sects. By comparison, they appeared considerably more restrained. After all, good and bad were often relative, dependent on one’s peers.

That said, there was no doubt that the Zhengyi Sect was the weakest of the Three Sects. Nevertheless, the Zhengyi Sect still retained its substantial foundations. Whichever sect secured its wholehearted support would immediately gain the upper hand.

The Zhengyi Sect was weak because the Zhang family, which formed the core of the Zhengyi Sect, had gradually declined over the years. Their younger generation failed to match the older one, leaving them unable to compete with the Li family.

The root of the problem had been planted as far back as the Holy Xuan Era due to the rebellion of the Deposed Heavenly Preceptor. It was an open insurrection against the Daoist Order. Thus, they were suppressed. Although the Holy Xuan also curbed the Li family’s power, there was never any doubt about the Li family’s loyalty. In the end, the Holy Xuan still had to rely upon them.

As for the Quanzhen Sect, Elder Yao certainly played both sides, but she never openly launched an armed rebellion. All of her maneuvering remained hidden in the shadows, making it fundamentally different in nature.

Overall, the Taiping Sect enjoyed the inherent advantages left behind by the Holy Xuan and was further strengthened by its internal unity. For a very long period, it stood as the foremost of the Three Sects. Although it could not completely overwhelm the other two sects, it consistently maintained a clear advantage over them. Otherwise, the Li family would never have entertained the ambition of making the position of Grand Master hereditary.

Despite its endless internal struggles and failure to achieve complete unity even to this day, the Quanzhen Sect had the advantage of size. It was like a powerful giant who could still crush opponents through overwhelming strength alone. As such, it naturally became the principal force capable of standing against the Taiping Sect.

The Zhengyi Sect still retained its historical foundations and continued to stay relevant as one of the Three Sects. It remained a colossal institution in its own right. But its disadvantage was that its overall strength lagged behind the other two, making any bid for the position of Grand Master exceedingly difficult.

Seen from this perspective, placing Qi Haoran and Qi Xuansu within the Zhengyi Sect and the Earthly Preceptor’s promotion of Zhang Yuelu was likely part of a long-laid plan by the Quanzhen Sect. The idea might have been for Qi Xuansu to rise to prominence as the Zhengyi Sect’s brightest young talent, marry the Zhang family’s distinguished daughter, gradually enter the upper echelons of the Zhengyi Sect, and perhaps even represent the Zhengyi Sect in the Grand Master election.

At that point, the Quanzhen Sect would have Yao Pei, while the Zhengyi Sect would have Qi Xuansu. On the surface, it would appear to be a three-way balance of power. But in reality, the second and third strongest factions would have united against the Taiping Sect.

Some might argue that this was essentially no different from the current situation. The crucial difference was who would be in control.

If the Quanzhen Sect had Yao Pei while the Zhengyi Sect had Qi Xuansu, and Qi Xuansu remained under Zhou Mengyao’s influence, then the true leader behind the alliance would be the Earthly Preceptor. That was because the Earthly Preceptor would already have driven a wedge into the Zhengyi Sect through Qi Xuansu, extending her influence deeply into its internal affairs.

This was precisely why the Heavenly Preceptor launched such a forceful counterattack. An alliance between two sects was never as simple as it appeared. Their own people constantly fought among themselves. How much more difficult would it be for two entirely separate factions to cooperate?

Now, however, Madam Qi had defected, and the Heavenly Preceptor had intervened, allowing Sage Donghua to seize the initiative. As a result, Yao Pei was marginalized, Qi Xuansu came to represent the Quanzhen Sect, and Zhang Yuelu represented the Zhengyi Sect. If Sage Donghua were also to marry Sage Cihang, then there would be no question that Sage Donghua would become the dominant figure, not the Earthly Preceptor.

The alliance remained one between the Quanzhen Sect and the Zhengyi Sect against the Taiping Sect, but the person directing that alliance had changed.

That difference changed everything.

To outsiders, it might seem like nothing more than an uncle usurping his nephew’s throne. The emperor still bore the same family name, so what difference did it make? But to those directly involved, it made all the difference in the world. It was a matter of life and death.

The same principle applied here. To outsiders, whether the leader was the Earthly Preceptor or Sage Donghua, they both belonged to the Quanzhen Sect. But to those involved in the struggle, the distinction was immense.

That was why the dagger thrust at Qi Xuansu today had been almost inevitable. If not today, it would have come sooner or later.

At its core, Qi Xuansu’s struggle against Zhou Mengyao was about resolving that matter. Who truly ruled the Quanzhen Sect today, and who would rule the Daoist Order tomorrow?

It was, quite literally, a matter worth killing and dying for.

When Qi Xuansu finally came to a stop, he found himself looking at an unfamiliar woman.

Before this, Qi Xuansu had never met this woman. Or rather, he had never once seen her true face.

Today, at last, he saw her true appearance.

At this point, there was no longer any point in pretending to be ignorant.

Qi Xuansu got straight to the point. “How should I address you? Should I still call you what I used to—Master?”

The unfamiliar woman was none other than Zhou Mengyao.

Just as Qi Xuansu found her unfamiliar, she also thought the same of Qi Xuansu. After all, the Qi Xuansu who now stood in a position of great authority had changed tremendously from the inexperienced young man he once was.

Zhou Mengyao replied indifferently, “I wouldn’t dare. Sage Donghua is your master now.”

Qi Xuansu smiled. “There’s an old saying that being one’s master even for a day is akin to being one’s father for a lifetime. But whoever came up with that clearly wasn’t thinking very progressively. They never considered the possibility that one’s master might be a woman. That leaves me in quite an awkward position, doesn’t it?”

Zhou Mengyao raised an eyebrow. “Tian Yuan, you’ve truly changed. You actually dare to speak to me like this now.”

Qi Xuansu replied, “What else would you have me do? Kneel and beg?”

Zhou Mengyao folded her hands into her sleeves as she regained her composure. “I never realized before that you could remain so calm in the face of great crises. Yao Qi truly saw further than I did.”

Qi Xuansu said, “People are forged through experience. It’s only natural for one to panic the first time facing a life-or-death situation. Take what happened at Kunlun Pass, for example. Those few assassins from The Inn nearly scared me to death. My mind went completely blank, and all I knew was to run. That wasn’t an act. It was genuine fear.

“But after enough experiences, I have matured. You could say I’ve learned to take things in stride or simply become accustomed to such events. Even when standing at death’s door, I can remain calm, chat about trivialities, and if the mood strikes, even recite a verse or two.”

Qi Xuansu paused before abruptly changing the subject. “But Master, you truly are an extraordinary actress. You could’ve easily reduced those assassins from The Inn to dust with the flick of a finger, yet you still performed so convincingly and with such fiery passion. That fearless resolve to sacrifice yourself and your resounding voice when you told me to run for my life was genuinely moving and utterly heartfelt. I don’t know whether Madam Qi, who was watching from the sidelines, believed your act or not, but I certainly did. I believed every single word without the slightest doubt.

“Anyone who didn’t know better would think you’d studied acting professionally. Compared to you, Audrey’s acting is like the glow of a firefly trying to compete with the brilliance of the full moon. It’s really not worth mentioning at all.

“In our everyday life together, you even let an orphan like me experience what it meant to have a home. I remember every little detail. You took me to Taiqing Square. We pasted New Year’s door guardians together and cooked together. You would sit on the reclining chair beneath that parasol tree, drinking wine. You told me stories about celestial maidens, demons, heroines, and witches. After getting thoroughly drunk, you’d tilt your head back, stare at the sky, and mutter to yourself. Even now, I remember every moment with perfect clarity. To be fair, Madam Qi could never have matched you in that regard. She could never have acted out the role of a loving mother.

“If I hadn’t later uncovered that empty grave in the Requiem Division, all of those memories would still have remained real to me.”