Chapter 49#

The Hand Can Pluck the Moon from Sky#

The officials retreated from the court, departing like schools of fish from the palace. The crowds dispersed, footsteps faded into silence, leaving only the man seated upon the cold stone throne and the statuesque, beautiful woman below him in the vast hall.

“Why have you not left?” Tiantai Jing lowered his deep gray eyes, his glacial gaze like clear moonlight, enveloping Jiang Xueya entirely.

Jiang Xueya stood with her arms crossed, tilting her head with a smile. “Is it not the Great Master who wishes me to remain?”

Tiantai Jing’s voice grew even colder. “You are too reckless. Having received my clemency, you should retreat and reflect upon your mistakes, not provoke me again.”

“Provoke?”

Jiang Xueya raised an eyebrow with some surprise. She suddenly stepped forward and climbed the steps toward Tiantai Jing. For decades, no one had been so audacious. The Great Master sat upon the throne in the North Star Hall, the nine ceremonial tiers displaying his exalted status, separating him from all others. He sat like a sage alone upon the clouds, while beneath him lay all those who must bow and worship.

At this moment, this boldly presumptuous woman actually dared set foot upon his nine sacred steps, walking toward him step by step. Her boots defiled his purified ground, and Tiantai Jing’s expression grew increasingly glacial.

“Now this is provocation,” Jiang Xueya laughed, her lips gradually bleeding.

A regal spiritual pressure descended silently upon her shoulders, forcing her to bow her head, forcing her to stop. After all, he was a Saint-realm secret practitioner, the most tyrannical and powerful man in all the land. His spiritual weight was heavy as mountains and seas—in his presence, you could only kneel in reverence, or your proud head would surely break.

Yet Jiang Xueya seemed unafraid of death, stubbornly keeping her head raised, stepping closer to him one by one. She endured the crushing pressure like mountains collapsing and peaks sinking, and the stone steps beneath her feet cracked under the unbearable weight. Yet she still smiled, her eyes full of arrogance and mockery.

Tiantai Jing watched her approach in silence. She had grown. She was different from before. She was the disciple of his intimate friend, the white-robed sage, and was as close as siblings with his only nephew Su Ruohe. He had seen her multiple times with Su Ruohe, laughing with their shoulders touching, and had seen her spar with Sang Chiyu over sword techniques in the training grounds. She was different from the carefree Su Ruohe, and even more different from the desireless Sang Chiyu. He knew this child was diligent and hardworking—over a dozen years she had scraped and clawed her way through the Secret Sect, entering the North Star Hall.

He had looked after her, treating her like a junior niece, the same as his nephew. He had admired her boldness and maturity, so he had betrothed her to his only disciple in Yunzhou, arranging their marriage. But he had not anticipated that when the girl became a woman, her desires would far exceed his imagination.

More than a month ago, the Secret Sect first discovered demonic intrusion. She dissected a demon, asking him to observe, but that demon’s bones gave off an intoxicating fragrance that stirred one’s senses. It was an irredeemable mistake, like a stain of filth soiling his life.

Jiang Xueya finally reached his side, her body trembling slightly. She was already at the end of her strength—not even at the Fire-Watching realm—utterly unable to withstand his solemn authority. Yet she did not retreat. Her gaze fixed on Tiantai Jing’s eyes like burning coals. She knelt on one knee before the Great Master, took his white, articulated right hand, and gently kissed his fingertips.

“Yet I do not wish to provoke you,” Jiang Xueya said softly. “I admire you, Great Master.”

“I regard you as a niece,” Tiantai Jing’s expression cold as ice carving.

“How unfortunate—you regard me as a niece, yet I regard you as a beloved. If my beloved kills me, I go willingly.”

“He died of illness in Kunlun, she was banished by me,” Tiantai Jing’s eyes, pale as jade, fixed upon her. “Arrogant child, do you not fear meeting their same fate?”

Jiang Xueya smiled slowly. “They resented you for your iron heart, yet is that truly so? A He is your sister’s only bloodline—for five years you exhausted every method to extend his lifespan. Do you not secretly hope for a miracle? Sang Chiyu was brought into the Secret Sect by you—his status as the sole survivor of the Sang clan was your gift, his peerless blade technique was your teaching. Your humble servant boldly guesses: you long knew he was a lowly half-demon. If you wanted his death, why wait until now when the paper cannot contain the fire? Back then, you arranged his betrothal to me, hoping she would protect him. When the betrothal fell through, you crippled his secret arts and severed his right leg, so he would be harmless. When the truth eventually comes out, the hundred families will not view a cripple as a threat. Pity they only saw your icy exterior, unable to perceive your meticulous schemes. When Sang Chiyu insisted on rebellion against the Secret Sect, did your heart not ache?”

Tiantai Jing coolly assessed: “Baseless speculation, self-aggrandizing cleverness.”

“The Great Master is clearly exposed by me and lashing out in shame,” Jiang Xueya laughed lightly. “The Great Master holds the world in your heart, calculating for all its people. The human realm is narrow, the land is limited, unable to sustain the endless stream of wailing newborns. If ten people share one bowl of rice, all ten will starve. If five people share one bowl, they barely survive. Harsh law and capital punishment to expel the inferior is meant so the common people have grain to eat. But no one will thank you. Even those with full bellies will only complain that you sit in your high hall, ignorant of the world’s suffering, which is why they go in rags. Now you abandon the refugees beyond Bukugan Pass. The Black Street gang must hate you to the bone.” She smiled cunningly. “So I wager that the Great Master’s heart is soft, and you will certainly not kill me.”

Tiantai Jing slowly looked away. “Step back. I will not kill you.”

Jiang Xueya’s body trembled slightly. “I want to step back, but I cannot.”

She spoke, coughing up blood. The spiritual pressure had injured her bones and tendons—the pressure she endured was equivalent to carrying a hundred-pound load. Even with a secret practitioner’s superior physiology, no one could endure such torment. As Jiang Xueya finished her final word, she lost consciousness. She toppled to one side, not toward Tiantai Jing. The nine levels of the black stone steps were high—Jiang Xueya had been kneeling at the edge. Falling unconscious, she would surely tumble down. Tiantai Jing remained seated, seemingly unmoved, letting her fall.

In her final moment, as Jiang Xueya was about to strike the steps, a pair of snow-white hands caught her, and she fell into Tiantai Jing’s arms.

Tiantai Jing looked down at her sleeping face. After a long moment, he said:

“Audacious beyond measure.”

When Jiang Xueya awoke, she found herself lying on a sleeping couch. The bedding was scented with incense, a familiar fragrance she had smelled on Tiantai Jing himself. She rubbed her shoulders and sat up, discovering she was in a study. A brazier sat beneath the couch, warming her face. Daylight filtered through bamboo screens hung on the open latticed window, casting dancing shadows across the stone floor.

Her bones no longer hurt—Tiantai Jing must have had a healing secret practitioner treat her wounds.

A servant knelt by the couch, presenting a talisman. “Lady Jiang.”

Jiang Xueya seized the talisman. It was a “Heavenly Eye,” already used. This talisman, when submerged in water, allowed one to see what the “Heavenly Eye” had witnessed. What did Tiantai Jing want to show her? There was a basin of water in the study’s center—apparently prepared by Tiantai Jing. Jiang Xueya dropped the talisman into the water. It dissolved, and images floated up in the water’s mirror.

Jiang Xueya examined the watery image and instantly recognized it as an interrogation chamber in the Endless Prison. She recognized it so quickly for only one reason—she had spent considerable time there herself.

Behind bars lay a man, shackled to a chair, his feet in iron chains. His face was extremely grotesque, constantly shifting appearance—one moment with a sharp monkey face, the next exquisitely beautiful. Jiang Xueya knew this must be a demon captured alive by the Secret Sect. The creature lacked sufficient spiritual power to maintain human appearance, unable to fix its face.

Motuo Yanā, Lang Yaguang, and Kunwu—the three great Star Officials stood outside the bars, conducting a joint interrogation.

“How many demons hide in the human realm? What is your ultimate purpose?” Kunwu demanded harshly. “Confess truthfully and I will grant you a quick death. If you refuse, I will skin your bones and extract your tendons, making your life worse than death.”

The demon chuckled darkly. “How many? Walk out of this cage and look in the streets. Peddlers and commoners, farmers and stewards, entertainers and courtesans—even officials and the nobility, princes and nobles—all contain my kinfolk. Who is to say your Great Master in the North Star Hall has not been replaced already?”

“You underestimate us greatly,” Lang Yaguang shook his head. “Humans have parents, wives, and children. With constant companionship and daily face-to-face contact, how difficult would it truly be to secretly replace someone? Even if you resembled the person you devoured, you cannot mimic their everyday behavior and speech. You know that speaking too much courts disaster, so you stay silent behind closed doors, feigning illness. Yet you need to eat, need to drink water. You do not know how to use bowls and chopsticks. You drink from your chamberpot and eat from your spittoon. Your servants find this extremely strange and report it to the authorities. Your identity naturally becomes exposed.”

Motuo Yanā said: “You fundamentally do not understand the human realm. How could you possibly infiltrate so many demons? The Secret Sect has already conducted one thorough screening, discovering and imprisoning dozens of demons in cells beside yours. Would you like us to let you hear their wailing? Compared to you, your kinfolk are more pragmatic and have already confessed to much.”

“There is no point in deceiving me,” the demon remained composed. “Regardless of how many of my kinfolk you have captured, you will extract nothing from them. We are not like you humans. You cower in your blessed lands, feast yourself to satiation, and have already forgotten the snow’s cruelty. So you destroy each other, forming factions and attacking rivals. You banish your own people, allowing them to freeze uselessly in the wind and snow. We are different—we rally toward a single goal, willing to sacrifice our lives. Your selfish, base race does not deserve to enjoy the snow’s blessings.”

“Do you come from the snow? Where in the Snowfield is your homeland?” Kunwu pressed.

The demon’s expression turned nostalgic. “My homeland is very far away. Once a human knocked upon our heaven’s gate, but he has already died. You wish to know where we come from so you can attack our rear? It is futile. Your armies cannot traverse the Snowfield for long distances.”

“A human?” Kunwu frowned. “A refugee? Only refugees would venture so deep into the Snowfield for survival.”

“Enough,” Lang Yaguang clapped his hands. “Let me use the ‘Huaxu’ technique.”

Kunwu nodded. “Very well.”

The demon seemed to see something and his expression suddenly became mournful. “The human realm is beautiful, yet I still yearn for my homeland’s vault of sky. The snowflakes fall upon it in countless forms—so beautiful. If after my death, my soul could traverse the endless snow and return to my homeland, would it?”

Kunwu’s brow furrowed deeply. “What is he saying?”

Lang Yaguang’s reaction was far swifter. His expression suddenly changed, and he roared: “Step back! Get away from him!”

His words had barely left his mouth when the demon closed his eyes. His constantly shifting face finally stilled, fixing into a mournful yet lonely smile. His body suddenly began to glow, spider-web-like luminescent channels growing across his form. Then his body burst apart, and centered on him, the prison erupted in violent explosion.

The water mirror filled with white light, and the image faded. No wonder the three great Star Officials had not attended court today—they must have been severely injured in the blast. A servant presented a tray containing several shattered metal fragments. Jiang Xueya examined the pieces when a soft voice suddenly came from behind the bamboo screen.

“Recognize it?”

Jiang Xueya looked up. Behind the bamboo screen sat Tiantai Jing, his silhouette barely visible in the shadow and light. Before him lay a chessboard—he seemed to be playing against himself.

“It is my junior disciple’s buried-fire small iron carapace,” Jiang Xueya said. “When a demon is injured, its spiritual force ruptures, and the channels glow. Before the explosion, the demon’s body displayed luminescent channels, meaning severe internal bleeding. He had buried the iron carapace within his body. When it activated, he was injured. Soon after, the carapace exploded.”

“Correct,” Tiantai Jing nodded. “Continue.”

“The buried-fire iron carapace exists in only two places. One is the Paradise Pavilion of the Black Street—my junior disciple was once the pavilion master and they must retain the techniques for crafting it. The other is the Secret Sect. You obtained the mechanism armory, and the Secret Sect already possesses the blueprints for crafting the carapace. Where did this demon’s carapace originate?” Jiang Xueya mused. “Furthermore, this demon’s expression before death troubles me greatly. When Lang Star Official said he would use the ‘Huaxu’ technique to probe his dreams, he seemed to see something.”

It had been fine initially, then suddenly his expression became extremely mournful, and he spoke words like a final testament.

Tiantai Jing said: “He took his own life at someone’s behest.”

Jiang Xueya immediately understood. “Someone in the interrogation chamber secretly transmitted a message, ordering him to self-detonate.”

This suspicion was terrifying, but it also perfectly explained where the demon’s carapace came from. There was a traitor within the Secret Sect—a very clever traitor. The demon’s self-detonation injured everyone in the interrogation chamber. The traitor used this bitter play to wash away suspicion, injured the Secret Sect’s Star Officials, and simultaneously misled the Secret Sect about demons in the Paradise Pavilion. Two birds with one stone.

“We believed demons disguise poorly, easy to identify. This was false. There are deeper-hidden demons—within the Secret Sect, beside us.”

Jiang Xueya pushed past the screen and knelt before the chessboard, her expression grave.

“Guard Ruohe carefully. Unless absolutely necessary, do not let him leave the border,” Tiantai Jing said. “The demons have coveted his life for long. Times are different now. Tell him not to act rashly.”

Jiang Xueya was startled. “Great Master, you…”

Tiantai Jing’s cold gaze fell upon Jiang Xueya. “Do you think, without my consent, you could have safely taken the puppet blueprints from the Immortal’s Cave?”

Jiang Xueya finally understood—Tiantai Jing had been acting all along. There was a traitor in the Secret Sect, and he did not know who, so he had to be wary of everyone around him. For some reason, the demons were fixated on Su Ruohe. Tiantai Jing wanted to preserve his life, but could not act himself—who knows what the demons might do, and saving could become harming.

He knew of Jiang Xueya’s actions but turned a blind eye, pretending ignorance. He remained silent, waiting for the right moment. Now that traitor had finally acted and revealed themselves. Their opportunity had come.

Su Ruohe often told Jiang Xueya that his Uncle was scheming and calculating beyond measure. In his presence, they were merely putting on shadow plays, a child’s game of house.

Tiantai Jing pointed out her shortcomings. “You are too young. Even with careful planning, oversights are inevitable.”

“Where are my oversights?”

“Yu and He had deep affection. Although they fell out when He fled to the Black Street, now that He has returned, Yu’s sole concern is his well-being. Others say they are enemies. I know they are intimate friends.”

“…” Jiang Xueya scratched her head. “Merely intimate friends?”

Tiantai Jing’s brow furrowed slightly. “What else would they be?”

“Nothing. Please, Great Master, continue to resolve my confusions.”

“First, when Yu broke into the Immortal’s Cave that day, you should not have brought him away.”

Jiang Xueya sighed. “Indeed. Sang Chiyu has such a death-seeking nature. How could he simply leave with me? Unless he knew He would certainly be safe.”

“Second, if He died by my hand, you should hate me and resent me like Yu does.”

Jiang Xueya laughed. “Cannot I be blinded by love and abandon a blood-deep feud?”

Tiantai Jing glanced at her with indifference. “Speak more, and I will surely punish you.”

Jiang Xueya bowed. “Does the Great Master wish me to find the traitor?”

“Before the great audience,” Tiantai Jing sipped his tea. “Otherwise, the crimes of overstepping your authority and dereliction of duty compound. I will expel you from the Secret Sect.”

“I accept the command,” Jiang Xueya said. “I will start investigating from Yunzhou. A He said the Jiang clan has been occupied by demons. The Secret Sect’s demons are almost certainly related to those creatures. I can also rescue my useless father and brothers while I’m at it.”

She could not help but smile. He had so many capable people around him, yet he sought her out specifically. For only one reason—everyone else could potentially be the traitor. Only she could not be. If a demon had infiltrated the Secret Sect, they would be exceedingly careful, proceeding cautiously. They could never be so reckless as she was. Moreover, like Sang Chiyu and Su Ruohe, she was a child he had watched grow up. He could discern all her schemes with his eyes closed.

She was his most trustworthy person.

“Inch by inch you advance, and arrogance grows with favor”—this described Jiang Xueya well. This woman entered the screen without hesitation, sitting across the chessboard, taking the tea from Tiantai Jing’s hands and drinking it in one draft. The tea moistened her glistening lips, and she smiled with unrestrained mockery.

The familiar spiritual pressure pressed down, but it was not as unbearable as before.

Jiang Xueya gazed at Tiantai Jing’s cold, profound eyes. “With punishment comes reward. If your servant captures the traitor, how will you reward me?”

Tiantai Jing closed his eyes, refusing to look at her moist red lips. He asked: “What do you want?”

Jiang Xueya leaned forward and removed a qilin jade pendant from Tiantai Jing’s waist.

“With this as proof, allow me free passage in and out of the palace at all times,” Jiang Xueya smiled brightly. “Including during the night curfew.”

Entering the palace grounds in the dead of night—no need to think about what this woman intended.

The solemn spiritual pressure suddenly intensified, and Jiang Xueya was pinned flat against the table, her back as if bearing ten thousand pounds, unable to rise. Ivory chess pieces scattered across the ground, tumbling like pearls on the wooden floor, rolling everywhere, black and white entwining.

“It hurts,” Jiang Xueya cried out.

The pressure vanished instantly. Jiang Xueya was startled, raising her head to see Tiantai Jing’s cold jade-like face, his brow furrowed as if troubled by his own involuntary release of pressure.

“Jiang Xueya, what do you like about me?” Tiantai Jing asked.

Jiang Xueya straightened up, speaking slowly: “What answer does the Great Master wish to hear? You stand alone in the heights, so lonely, so cold. I wish to accompany you?—No, that is not what your servant wishes.” Jiang Xueya’s glistening red lips curved upward, a radiant smile blooming there. “Your servant wishes for the Great Master to descend from the clouds into the mortal world, to come and accompany me.”

Tiantai Jing stared at her for a moment, his expression as cold and solemn as always, utterly unmoved.

“The demons have long been hidden among humans. Their movements are organized with precision. There must be one demon behind it all, commanding the whole,” Tiantai Jing said. “I often sense someone playing chess against me from the other side of the board, yet I have never captured their trace.”

“Hmm?”

“Find him.”

Tiantai Jing rose and turned toward the door.

Jiang Xueya called out: “Does the Great Master still preserve Sang Chiyu’s life?”

Tiantai Jing’s figure paused slightly. “He is the only friend of my nephew. In all this world, only He can restrain his demonic nature. Since He still lives, I can spare Yu’s life.”

His figure disappeared beyond the door. Apparently he had forgotten that the qilin jade pendant remained in Jiang Xueya’s hand.

Su Ruohe was awakened by being stepped on—Sang Baobao trampled across his face before hopping off the bed.

Su Ruohe sat up, his head covered in white cat fur, and pushed open the window. The sky was a clear blue, high and boundless, the sun bright and high in the sky. It was already mid-morning—he was late for his morning roll call by half a day. Forget it, he would skip the morning shift. After all, Uncle wanted the blueprints for the ultra-grade flesh puppet from him. Even if he ran nude through the Secret Sect, the Eagle Valor Guard would treat him like a deity.

Sang Baobao had disappeared somewhere. Su Ruohe called out twice, but the wretched cat ignored him. Su Ruohe shuffled to the kitchen and made a pot of hot water-poached fish, carefully deboned it, mixed it into mush, and placed it in a bowl. He poured another bowl of fish broth and set it on the table to cool. The meal was ready, yet Sang Baobao had not appeared. Su Ruohe grabbed a chopstick and tapped the bowl vigorously. “Mealtime! Mealtime!”

Looking out the door, sure enough, a white shadow came bounding over, scrambled onto the table in a few leaps, buried its large head in the cat’s bowl, and lapped at the fish broth, splash and patter.

Su Ruohe: “…”

What a glutton.