Volume One: The King's Command Chapter Sixty-Three: When the Master Takes Action

Far away in the Feng family estate, Master Ma was still unaware of his daughter's recovery. He was seated, sipping tea with the two heads of the family clans.

Gong Lichun glanced uneasily at the calm-faced middle-aged man before him. He felt a chill and was eager to leave, not wanting to stay a moment longer than necessary. "Master Ma, shouldn't you be overseeing the auction house? What brings you to the Feng family tonight?"

"You're asking me why I'm here? Hmph. Don’t you know in your own hearts?" Master Ma snorted twice, his tone making it clear he didn’t regard the two clan leaders with much respect.

Though Feng Gui, patriarch of the Feng family, was somewhat agitated, he dared not voice it. As soon as Master Ma had barged alone into the courtyard, he had ordered tea to be served at once. Tonight’s business was of a different magnitude, and in all of Seven Stars City, the person he most feared was Master Ma.

If only tonight would pass and the Gong family be destroyed, then whatever happened next could be dealt with in due course. Of all his careful calculations, he had never expected Master Ma to come in person, nor had he revealed his purpose yet.

"How your two families fight is none of my concern, but neither of you is to harm those two priests. I have great use for them." Only now, in front of the two patriarchs, did Master Ma finally declare his intent, his tone brooking no argument.

Gong Lichun immediately understood—the two priests in question were the two experts by his son's side. As long as they were protected, Gong Qing would remain unharmed.

He exhaled deeply. "Master Ma, I can guarantee that the Gong family harbors no ill will toward the priests. We would never dare!"

He cast a glance at Feng Gui beside him, whose face was drawn long and sullen, darker than the night itself. Whatever little schemes he had harbored were dashed by Master Ma’s single command.

"I don't know who these priests are, Master Ma, but you know as well as I do that the feud between the Fengs and the Gongs runs deep; it can't be explained away in a sentence or two." Feng Gui was confident he could wipe out the opposition. Gong Che was merely his opening play; he had men lying in wait along every one of the Gong family’s trade routes.

"That’s not my concern. Handle it as you see fit. Once tonight passes, each of your families will receive a slot to enter the Heavenly King Path." Master Ma laid the stakes on the table. At his level, he preferred open strategies to subterfuge.

Gong Lichun and Feng Gui fell silent at once. The conditions he offered were exceedingly generous. Outsiders had only a chance every three or five years to enter the Heavenly King Path for its trials—a coveted opportunity beyond price.

As they pondered, a commotion suddenly erupted outside. The dozens of guards had no time to intervene before a dark figure landed in the courtyard, bowed before Master Ma, and whispered something. Joy lit up Master Ma’s face, his fingers trembling with excitement.

"Good! Good! Good! I’ll return at once. Be sure to keep them there—don’t let them leave!"

Master Ma stood to go, following the messenger out. Feng Gui called after him, "Master Ma, about our business…"

"Just get through tonight safely. Afterward, you two can fight all you want. Come to my house for your slots after breakfast tomorrow!" Master Ma didn’t even turn back, his laughter echoing down the street for several hundred paces.

Ma Si, meanwhile, had sent word to inform his master, while hastily arranging a banquet to welcome their guests. As the chief steward of the auction house, he managed everything with impeccable order.

Inside the quiet chamber, Meng Qiaoqiao carefully used a silver needle to channel her art, nurturing the young lady’s fragile soul.

Liu Xiaoyi assisted at her side, his robust spiritual energy filling the room, driving away the scattered auras and keeping the atmosphere stable.

"The Dragonfish prayer beads truly are treasures, though they don't store as much spiritual energy as I’d like." The string of twelve beads could hold barely a third of his own power.

"Oh, please. I have to charge it twice to fill it up—how many freaks are there like you?" Meng Qiaoqiao had realized by now that he lacked all the self-awareness of a cultivator; his actions were often beyond her understanding.

After three hours of nurturing, the weakened soul finally stabilized. The young lady slipped into a deep and peaceful sleep. Only then did the two breathe a sigh of relief and step outside.

No sooner had they emerged than someone barreled into them with open arms, catching them in a tight embrace before they could dodge. "Priests! You’ve both worked so hard! Hahahaha!"

Master Ma had been waiting outside for some time. There had never been anything to make him wait so patiently before. Though he’d heard the messenger’s report of his daughter’s recovery, he would not be at ease until he saw her with his own eyes.

"You must be Master Ma?" Liu Xiaoyi was surprised to see such a composed middle-aged man. "The young lady is well, resting inside. You may see her yourself, Master Ma."

Neither of them wished to return to the quiet chamber, so they waited in the courtyard. Outside, the night was as dark as ink. Liu Xiaoyi’s keen eyes noticed something amiss by the corner of a wall.

"I’ll be right back. A friend of mine has come." With a flex of his legs, he vaulted onto the courtyard wall, strode swiftly around the eaves, and found the blue-robed swordsman leaning against the slanting tiles, gazing at the starry sky.

Xie Dongting, having found the estate empty, had not lingered. He’d tracked the group here by their aura. If he wished to leave, the assassins could never have stopped him.

"Kid, sharp eyes—you managed to spot me." Xie Dongting’s right arm bore several wounds from the earlier fight. "Relax, I’m not here to make trouble."

"Xie Dongting, aren’t you sent by the Crown Prince? Yet you shielded me from that blade." Liu Xiaoyi was puzzled; he could sense the exhaustion in the other’s demeanor.

"It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But after I met that old man with the hoe, I realized the martial world had far more hidden depths than I ever imagined. A bit of wandering seemed worthwhile."

Having grown accustomed to comfort in the Prince’s service, Xie Dongting felt his cultivation had stagnated. Breaking through to the Heavenly Sun realm seemed impossible, so he asked the Prince for leave to travel and train. By chance, he encountered Liu Xiaoyi on the road and, by a twist of fate, followed him all the way.

"You saw everything on the road then? All those incredible Daoist arts?" Liu Xiaoyi marveled at his ability to remain hidden for so long.

Xie Dongting was most impressed by such unfathomable abilities. He’d originally wanted to see how long Liu Xiaoyi could survive in this chaotic world, but the string of bizarre occurrences had left him with an unprecedented sense of danger.

Cultivators were not uncommon in the martial world, but he’d spent too long in the capital, away from the underworld, and was clearly inexperienced in dealing with them.

When Liu Xiaoyi suddenly unleashed his arts, it had set his nerves on edge. The sword fight with Gong Che that night had allowed him to vent all his pent-up frustration on that unfortunate soul.

"Daoist arts truly are wondrous. That old eunuch doesn’t seem so fearsome now," he remarked. Seeing the Yellow-robed Daoist’s skills, even Nie Xiang seemed no more than a mere mortal.

Conjuring bone from thin air, reversing yin and yang, vanishing within the five elements—the Daoist arts were beyond compare. Liu Xiaoyi often found himself torn between swordsmanship and Daoist cultivation.

Over time, he discovered he was remarkably gifted in the Daoist path, but he never gave up his sword training. Mastering both, his advancement was swift.

"Who taught you all this? The moment you left the capital, you could wield Daoist magic—but you never did back then, even when things were dire."

"I didn’t know how then... Will you join me on the Heavenly King Path?"

"I don’t have a ticket, so of course I’ll tag along to witness the spectacle. Otherwise, how would you have found me?" Xie Dongting replied with a smile.

Though it was deep into the night, the Ma estate was ablaze with lanterns, bright as day. The auction had only just begun, and those unaware assumed the Tianbao Auction House had made a fortune and was throwing a celebration feast.

Master Ma played host, with Ma Si, Ma Wu, and the other stewards accompanying him, laying out a grand banquet for their benefactors. Xie Dongting, who hadn’t had a proper meal in days, made the most of it, gorging himself at the table. After all, no one here knew who he was.

He had barely taken a few bites when Master Ma addressed him, "The Eight Swordsmen under the Crown Prince—are they also your friends?"

Xie Dongting nearly choked. "Master Ma, you recognize me?" He was startled that even in this remote place, he’d been recognized. Embarrassed, he struggled for composure.

"Not only I, but everyone here knows you. In our line of work, doing business in the martial world, we must remember all the famous faces," Master Ma said with a shrewd smile. "Come, eat—tonight there are no swordsmen or priests here, just friends."

With those words, the tension melted away. Those who served the court always valued face, and Xie Dongting was no exception. "Master Ma is right—let me offer a toast!"

Truthfully, he was parched. Without waiting for the others, he downed his cup in one gulp.

"And you two young priests, where did you study? Perhaps I am acquainted with your masters as well," Master Ma inquired.

"My master is from Whitecloud Monastery. He’s from White Crane Mountain," Meng Qiaoqiao replied.

"I’ve heard of Whitecloud Monastery—a major Daoist sect, far superior to the Heavenly King Path. Those gluttonous good-for-nothings won’t last long. Once the old men are gone, the sect will crumble as well."

Master Ma clearly had little regard for the Heavenly King Path. He was all too familiar with the chaos and intrigue within—petty men vying for power, elders focused solely on cultivation, leaving the vast sect to be mismanaged by their juniors and plunging it into disorder.

As they chatted, a young woman in a white dress entered the hall. Master Ma beamed with delight. "Yue’er, come and greet your benefactors!"

After washing and changing, the young lady’s appearance had transformed. Her lips held a hint of color, her eyes sparkled with life, though years of torment by vengeful spirits had left her thin, her collarbones prominent, adding a touch of delicate beauty.

She glided over to Liu Xiaoyi, offering a deep bow. "Savior, allow Yue’er to pay her respects."

Liu Xiaoyi quickly helped her up. "That’s quite unnecessary, Miss Yue’er. Please, take a seat; you shouldn’t exert yourself."

Yue’er paid the same respects to Meng Qiaoqiao, then sat obediently beside Master Ma, the picture of demure grace.

Perhaps after the long years with vengeful spirits, the sudden peace brought her solace. She listened quietly, not joining in the conversation, her gaze lingering on Liu Xiaoyi’s face.

She was twenty now—an age when most women in common families would have married and borne children. Seeing Liu Xiaoyi’s handsome features and remarkable talents, her heart stirred with longing.

Meng Qiaoqiao, being a woman herself, could not fail to notice. Jealousy arose unbidden, and she shifted her seat closer to Liu Xiaoyi.

"Savior, may I ask your age?"

"I’ll be sixteen after the New Year."

Master Ma rubbed his hands together, his eyes gleaming as though spotting a great business opportunity. "I have a marriage proposal. Would you, my young benefactor, be willing to accept it?"