Chapter Eleven: Those Who Follow Different Paths Cannot Work Together Section Fourteen: A Tearless Reunion Between Fellow Disciples

Section 14: A Meeting of Disciples Without Tears

"How is your practice of the Marrow Cleansing Sutra going?"

"Reporting to my Lord, after practicing, Zhao Ji feels her movements are as swift as the wind. I was just about to seek your guidance."

Bu Jingxian asked Zhao Ji to demonstrate. As she danced with her sword, a whirlwind stirred around her, carrying her forward with the speed of a gale. He could not help but feel secretly amazed; he had not expected this wind-based energy to be so potent, nor that Zhao Ji would possess it.

"Excellent. This is the Gale talent, which happens to compensate for the shortcomings of the Divine Soul Art."

The Soul Art had been named the Divine Soul Art and disseminated to the masses through the Sunset Sect. Initially, it was claimed to be a joint creation of Bai Yue and Bu Jingxian, but later, it was attributed to the Divine Soul Immortal appearing in a dream, further mythologizing the figure.

"Very well. We shall leave the State of Zheng now and head north, detouring toward the State of Wei."

On the road, seeing Bu Jingxian regain his former vitality and even show concern for the situation in the State of Zhou, Zhao Ji felt comforted, thinking that a journey to clear his mind had indeed been beneficial. When they stopped for the night, she busied herself at the courier station, sending a letter to the State of Zhou to put the Princess’s mind at ease.

They traveled through the territory of Zheng for two days, and as Bu Jingxian had anticipated, the State of Zheng no longer had the bandwidth to concern itself with him. The Flying Immortal Sect was preoccupied with preparations for war against Wei and had no time to spare for an enemy who had killed one of their own. Still, to avoid trouble, they exited the State of Zheng via the North Pass.

A few miles outside the Wei North Pass, the road turned east toward the northwestern lands of the State of Wei. The thousand-mile stretch was sparsely populated and dotted with primitive tribes. Because the terrain was rugged and hostile, neither Zheng nor Wei had sent troops to occupy it. With few people, scarce resources, and terrain unsuitable for building cities, the cost of garrisoning such a vast area outweighed the benefits. These tribes lived in relative isolation and rarely attacked travelers on the merchant routes.

Seeing the reconstructed Zhou capital from afar—which had been burned down in the past—Bu Jingxian felt a sense of irony. If the King of Zheng had indeed gifted this new capital to the Emperor of Zhou, it would surely become a source of deep regret for the King in the future.

He and Zhao Ji rode directly toward the State of Wei. The border defenses on this side were lax, as the thousand miles of wilderness acted as a buffer against a large-scale invasion from Zheng. They encountered no villages for rest along the way and were forced to camp in the wild. After several days, Zhao Ji had grown noticeably thinner.

One day, they entered a village in the border region and found it crowded with homeless refugees. They had just sat down in a small inn when they heard someone shout, "The 'Undying Soul' refugees are causing trouble again! Everyone, come and watch!"

The diners in the hall rushed out, and Bu Jingxian followed to see what was happening. A large group of refugees had gathered, confronting a group of people who were distributing relief porridge outside a courtyard.

"If you dare to cause trouble again, don't blame us for being impolite!"

"Why can everyone else get porridge, but we cannot?"

"Why? This is porridge provided by the benevolent Master Wang to good citizens. Do you 'Undying Soul' people deserve to eat? You spend your days doing nothing, spreading heretical nonsense in the village. We haven't driven you out yet, and you still want porridge?"

"What is wrong with being 'Undying Soul'? Does having an Undying Soul mean we aren't human? You have abandoned the faith of the Soul Tribe, and yet you discriminate against those of us who hold fast to the philosophy of the Soul. Are you not afraid that the Divine Soul Immortal will punish you? Do you not know that the Divine Soul Immortal has already sent an envoy down to the mortal realm?"

"What Divine Soul Immortal! Hmph!" As they argued, a cold snort rang out. Clearly from an expert with deep internal energy, the sound seemed to pierce directly into people's minds, cutting through the noise of the argument with absolute clarity.

A man dressed in furs with a complexion like jade appeared. Beside him, leaning against a beautifully adorned woman, his carriage rolled slowly toward the scene and stopped. Many villagers bowed respectfully, calling out, "Young Master Wang."

Bu Jingxian recognized this man. Back when he was learning his craft at North Spirit Mountain, this man was one of those who enjoyed using him as target practice for hidden weapons. He recalled that the family of Wang Wuqun was the largest landowner in this region, though he did not know why his father was known as the "Benevolent Master Wang."

The group of "Undying Soul" followers was not intimidated upon seeing him. Instead, they retorted righteously, "By what right do you look down on the Soul people, and by what right do you show disrespect to the Divine Soul Immortal?"

"By what right?" Wang Wuqun sneered, leaping from the carriage. Grasping his sword, he scanned the group and raised his blade. "By the right of this sword! All you 'Undying Souls' are poor wretches and cowards. You only know how to spout nonsense all day. My father keeps you here out of pity, but I have no interest in wasting grain on you trash. You want porridge? Fine. Just curse the Divine Soul Immortal right now, and I will reward you immediately. Aren't you always saying the Soul Tribe doesn't need to work to be fed? Since that is the case, go ask your Divine Soul Immortal for grain!"

One of them said indignantly, "Young Master Wang, do not distort the philosophy of the Undying Soul. The Soul Tribe indeed lived without want under the protection of soul power before the invasions. It was the invaders who brought us to this world with their evil power, and that is why we suffer such hardship..."

Before the man could finish, Wang Wuqun drew his sword. In a flash of light, the man’s hand was severed, and blood splattered onto the ground.

"You always say this world is an illusion. Very well, since it is an illusion, cutting off your hand shouldn't hurt, right? How could it hurt if it's all just a dream? Why are you still screaming and writhing in pain? Hahaha..."

The group of "Undying Soul" followers was filled with righteous indignation. Yet, such was the state of the world; a man of Wang Wuqun's status could kill commoners in his territory without consequence, let alone refugees.

"What? Are you glaring at me because you're unconvinced? Hmph! You ignorant, lowly things. If I weren't in a good mood today, and afraid that killing you would dirty my land, I would have let you experience the true power of North Spirit Mountain's martial arts." Wang Wuqun then instructed his servants, "If these lowlifes cause trouble again, beat them out of the village! There is nothing I despise more than the cowards of the 'Undying Soul'!"

The servants agreed in unison.

There were few "Undying Soul" followers in the State of Zheng, as most had fled or changed their faith after the suppression of the Soul Sect. Even those who remained hid in remote villages or mountains. The Black Wolf Tribe’s lands had no such people, and Zhao Ji had never seen such a scene before. Even in the State of Han, the followers she saw were merely impoverished. She had never imagined that the "Undying Soul" followers would be so discriminated against and humiliated.

"My Lord!" Zhao Ji was filled with righteous anger. Although she did not truly believe in the "Undying Soul" philosophy, everyone in the Sunset Tribe identified with it.

"Go and seek instruction from this Young Master Wang on his North Spirit Mountain martial arts. Let him know that those who pursue the philosophy of the Undying Soul are also capable of martial arts."

Receiving the order, Zhao Ji immediately drew her sword and leaped before Wang Wuqun. Glaring at him, she said, "How dare you insult the philosophy of the Undying Soul! Let's see what you are truly capable of!"