Chapter 76#

I Desire to Wed Thee, Shall It Be So?#

Biandu, Beichen Hall.

Amidst the solemn sound of bells and drums, beneath the magnificent archway of Beichen Hall, the heavy black iron gates slowly swung open. Noble officials who had traveled from the forty-eight prefectures to pay homage in Biandu stood below the steps. Clad in black robes adorned with star patterns and tall hats with wide belts, the cold wind turned their faces pale, making them look like exquisite dolls standing in the snow. As far as the eye could see, there was a sea of heads; those standing in the back rows could not even clearly see Tantai Jing, who sat high within the hall. In their center, a circular space was left empty—the newly constructed central star array. It was said to resonate with the star arrays at the four corners of Biandu, amplifying mystic effects by thousands of times. The tribute caravans entering Biandu needed this star array to discern whether they were demons or monsters.

Soldiers held bronze “demon-reflecting” mirrors, conducting a final round of inspections to ensure no demons were fishing in troubled waters within the ranks. Once the inspection was complete, the soldiers retreated to both sides. Following the chant of the master of ceremonies, the officials bowed and prostrated themselves; like stalks of grain before a scythe, everyone simultaneously dropped a level lower.

Standing at the head of the officials was Jiang Xueya, the Commander of the Dragon-Slayer Guards. She was the person closest to Tantai Jing; she and the Grand Sect Master were like the stars and the moon. These past few days, she had held sole power in Biandu, and the Dragon-Slayer Guards under her command had imprisoned many officials in the Infinite Prison. Invisibly, she had become a figure second only to one, yet above ten thousand. Officials whispered in private that she walked through the palace halls as if the restrictions did not exist, and some palace attendants had even seen her sitting across from the Grand Sect Master, drinking tea. In the hundred years since the Grand Sect Master ascended, except for Princess Suwu, no one had been able to get as close to him as Jiang Xueya.

The attendant chanted again, and the bells and drums sounded. Jiang Xueya stood up, her crimson military robe making her look as lithe and upright as a solitary crane. Holding a white jade tablet, she took the lead. Only when she moved did the other officials dare to rise and follow her into Beichen Hall. Half of the officials entered the hall, while the other half remained outside. They were bureaucrats from noble families in remote prefectures and counties who lacked the qualifications to enter the hall, and could only wait outside for a summons or for the Grand Assembly to conclude.

The candlelight within the hall was dim and hazy. Even though the wind and snow had ceased, the officials still felt the aura of freezing snow. The Grand Sect Master was the inheritor of the “Blizzard” mystic art; as long as one was by his side, wind and snow followed like a shadow. No one dared to lift their head to gaze upon the heavenly countenance; to those below, even a respectful peek at the man upon the clouds was a sacrilege. The Grand Assembly began in an orderly fashion, with noble families from various prefectures presenting their annual tributes, reporting on their performance, and requesting instructions for the coming year’s major policies.

By the time most of the officials from the forty-eight prefectures had finished their reports, the sun was high in the sky. Every year, the Grand Assembly was grueling; the Grand Sect Master was a harsh man, and officials’ reports were often subjected to repeated questioning as he searched for errors or omissions. Last year, a young scion from a remote noble family reported on behalf of his father. The Grand Sect Master asked three questions, and the scion said “I do not know” three times. The scion’s legs shook so much he lost control of his bladder on the spot. The Grand Sect Master punished him for improper conduct in the hall and stripped him of his title.

Wait—everyone belatedly realized that the Grand Sect Master had not uttered a single word during this year’s reports. And that favorite at court, Master Jiang, had also remained silent the entire time. The atmosphere in the hall grew colder and colder. Even though the wind and snow were clearly no longer howling outside, the officials felt as if they were standing in a frozen wasteland.

“Next, the King of Yunzhou,” the attendant chanted, then bowed to Jiang Xueya. “Master Jiang, your father is in prison. Since Yunzhou is reporting today, I must trouble you to act on his behalf.”

Jiang Xueya stood at the head of the line, remaining motionless.

The attendant stole a glance at the Grand Sect Master’s expression and called out to her cautiously, “Master Jiang, Master Jiang.”

An official behind her secretly tugged at Jiang Xueya’s sleeve to snap her out of it. As if waking from a dream, she turned and stepped into the center of the hall, kneeling on one knee to report on Yunzhou’s affairs.

“The rebels of Yunzhou are already being escorted to Biandu. Upon searching the Jiang residence, over forty secret letters were found, half of which were signed by the Great Star Official Lang Yaguang. I have verified the handwriting; it indeed belongs to Master Lang. I have already dispatched men to raid the Lang residence. The traitors have been executed and the monsters eradicated. The Grand Sect Master may rest easy.”

After Jiang Xueya finished speaking, the man atop the nine tiers of steps remained silent. The atmosphere in the hall was hushed. Jiang Xueya kept her head lowered, her back straight and proud; even kneeling below the steps, she possessed an unyielding spirit. Someone, bold beyond measure, secretly lifted their eyelids to steal a glance at the Grand Sect Master on his stone throne. His eyes were lowered, and his gaze, as cold as moonlight, rested upon Jiang Xueya.

“I have occupied this throne for seventy years,” a majestic, low voice suddenly rang out. The Grand Sect Master finally spoke. “Publicly, I govern the transformation of the four seas and soothe the people of the eight directions. Privately, I uphold the path of asceticism, cleansing my body and mind in pursuit of the ultimate Dao. Now, I hear that the laws of the Dao govern heaven and earth, while desire belongs to human relations. Governance of the realm begins in the inner palace and reaches the common people. Therefore, the cultivation of the inner court cannot be treated lightly.”

This turn of the conversation felt wrong. An official below asked in a trembling voice, “Is the Grand Sect Master…”

Tantai Jing paused for a moment, then continued, “I wish to establish a Sect Empress—to select a virtuous lady to assist me within the court.”

As soon as these words were spoken, a great storm surged within the hall. The officials looked at each other, everyone seeing the surprise and excitement in one another’s eyes. The Grand Sect Master had practiced asceticism for over a hundred years; there were no female musicians, no handmaidens, and no concubines in his palace. Who would have thought that today, the old tree would blossom and the old monk would break his vows—the Grand Sect Master was actually going to establish an Empress!

Some began to adjust their appearance, preparing to step forward and recommend their own daughters, only for an official behind them to grab their collar and pull them back into line. They were about to flare their nostrils in anger when they saw the Grand Sect Master rise from his cold stone throne and walk down the nine tiers of steps, one by one. Everyone watched this scene in stunned silence; for so many years, no one had ever seen the Grand Sect Master step down from his “Pure Land” during an assembly. He always remained high above, separated from the crowd by a celestial chasm.

Now, he had come down, step by step, like an immortal descending to the mortal world. People held their breath as they saw him stop in front of Jiang Xueya. Jiang Xueya also saw his deep black robes, with silver threads tracing brilliant stars. She slowly lifted her head and met Tantai Jing’s gaze. This man’s expression was as indifferent as ever, yet she seemed to see herself reflected in his eyes.

An illusion, she thought.

“Jiang Xueya, you possess the virtues of valor and embody the model of reverence and prudence. I desire to wed thee as my Sect Empress,” Tantai Jing asked. “Art thou willing?”

“Grand Sect Master,” Jiang Xueya asked with a mocking smile, her voice low, “is this your compensation to me?”

“Compensation?” Tantai Jing said. “I never compensate, for I never make mistakes.”

What a heartless man, Jiang Xueya sighed inwardly. No wonder he had been the Grand Sect Master for so long. Perhaps occupying a high position meant casting one’s heart into the dust. How could those upon the clouds have hearts? If their hearts were too heavy, they would be overburdened and fall from the heavens.

Forget it, what right did she have to blame him? On the contrary, she understood him; to eliminate hidden dangers, one must strike at the root. Tantai Jing could personally kill his own unborn child, and she could personally execute a brother who was as close to her as kin. In the end, they were the same kind of people. She was even more ruthless and unscrupulous than he was. The path she walked was the path of an Asura; she had long passed the point of no return.

“Then why do you want to marry me?” she asked. “Because I resemble her?”

“Not so. Though the two of you are similar, you are different in the end, and I will not have you play the part of another. As I said, I seek a virtuous lady to assist me. You are suitable.” Tantai Jing reached out his hand. “Stay in Biandu, stay by my side. I will not have children with you, but you shall be my only Sect Empress.”

His hand stopped before her—long, pale, and flawless like a jade carving. Having inherited the “Blizzard” mystic art, not only were his hair and eye colors lighter than average, but his body temperature was also much colder. When Jiang Xueya had been with him, she felt that this man was cold from head to toe, impossible to warm. He had never loved her from the beginning; his reason for keeping her was that he needed her to lead his charge.

Jiang Xueya placed her hand in his. He pulled her up and then let go. With fingers entwined, both of their hands were equally cold.

He watched her, waiting for her reply.

Everyone watched her. The hall was silent; even the sound of breathing was muted.

“I am willing,” she said softly. “How could I not be willing?”

Acting until the very end, she had unconsciously entered the role. She found herself laughable.

Do not hesitate, do not go soft-hearted, she reminded herself. They were born enemies.

“Good.” Tantai Jing turned around and stepped back up the nine tiers. “Officials of the Bureau of Astronomy, draft the decree and select an auspicious day. Proclaim this to the world so that all may know.”

Except for Jiang Xueya, the officials knelt and shouted, “We obey the Grand Sect Master’s decree.”

“Tantai Jing!”

Amidst the cheers, a clear voice suddenly rang out. Who dared to address the Grand Sect Master by his name? Everyone looked up in horror as they saw Jiang Xueya run up the nine tiers of steps. Taking them two or three at a time, like a crimson butterfly, she threw herself into the Grand Sect Master’s embrace. At such a transgressive act, everyone was dumbfounded. She had just received news of her elevation, and the decree hadn’t even been issued yet—did she disregard etiquette and law to such an extent? Surely even the Grand Sect Master would not tolerate such arrogance; he would certainly punish her for improper conduct and have her beaten.

Jiang Xueya thought the same; as she lunged toward Tantai Jing in full view of everyone, she expected to be struck back. His cold aura rushed toward her, the surrounding air instantly freezing, making one feel as if midwinter had arrived. She waited for his spiritual pressure to crush her or for the ground to freeze, but to her surprise, nothing happened. Tantai Jing did not even push her away.

She actually embraced Tantai Jing.

The officials were silent. No one dared believe the scene before them. Tantai Jing was the Grand Sect Master; who could approach him without his consent? If he had wished, the moment she lunged at him, he could have frozen this arrogant girl into a block of ice before she could even touch his sleeve. But he had not done so. Jiang Xueya held him firmly within Beichen Hall, during the Grand Assembly.

The officials were wide-eyed with shock, but in the next moment, something even more terrifying happened. They saw Jiang Xueya slowly release Tantai Jing, and a dagger was now buried in his chest. Blood gushed out like a fountain, and a deep, heavy stain spread across his dark robes.

Tantai Jing’s body slumped inch by inch. He had to grip Jiang Xueya’s wrist with all his might just to barely maintain his balance.

Jiang Xueya saw his exquisite brow furrow in pain, and his usually indifferent and majestic eyes were filled with disbelief.

“Are you avenging your child?” he asked hoarsely.

“No,” she whispered in his ear. “Grand Sect Master, do you remember? You once said you often felt there was someone playing against you across the chessboard, but you could never capture their trace.”

“…” Tantai Jing’s palm gripped her, leaving five red marks on her wrist. “It was you.”

“It was an honor to be your opponent,” she said coldly. “You lost, Grandmaster.”

Tantai Jing’s face suddenly darkened, and the Blizzard mystic art activated instantly. Wind and snow filled Beichen Hall, every flake as sharp as a blade. The ground around his feet froze solid, and the furious storm knocked Jiang Xueya off the nine tiers of steps. She spun in mid-air and landed on one knee. Her cheek bore a red mark from a snow blade, and her chest was encased in frost.

On any other day, his frost would have instantly frozen her heart; she would not have survived. But today, the dagger was lodged right in his heart, and his body sank lower and lower. The frozen ground around him began to thaw as he felt a bone-piercing agony, appearing to come from the wound, yet also seemingly from somewhere deeper. He struggled to regulate his breathing, but every breath was agonizingly painful. Blood seeped through his fingers. His falling figure was like a jade mountain collapsing, his long gray hair trailing on the ground.

An officer drew his blade and lunged at Jiang Xueya with a roar. However, he was quickly intercepted by another blade. Within the hall, Jiang Xueya’s followers finally revealed their true intentions, rising and drawing sharp blades from beneath their sleeves. The hall descended into chaos, with blood and flesh flying. Outside, spies hidden within the military ranks drew their weapons and struck down their comrades from behind.

Jiang Xueya brushed the frost from her chest and stood up, looking at the pale Tantai Jing from a distance.

This man had likely never been so wretched in his entire life. Enduring the sharp pain with every breath, he asked one word at a time, “Jiang Xueya… why did you betray me?”

“Because I am a demon.” She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, her wild smile as bright as fire. “Tantai Jing, I am a demon.”

She drew her hand-cannon. In Tantai Jing’s blood-soaked palm, ice and snow also coalesced.

In an instant, the bullet and the snow blade flew toward each other. The bullet pierced Tantai Jing’s chest; his pupils shrank, yet he remained as immovable as a mountain, stubbornly staring at the woman opposite him. The snow blade approached Jiang Xueya, bringing a biting cold that frosted the hair on her forehead. Suddenly, an attendant rushed out and took the blade for her. He was frozen solid, fell to the ground, and shattered into pieces of ice.

Jiang Xueya put away her weapon and turned to leave. Tantai Jing leaned against the black stone railing, his blurring eyes reflecting the woman’s indifferent back. He watched as she grew more distant, finally stepping into the halo of light at the entrance of Beichen Hall.

Cold.

Tantai Jing was born in winter; carrying the “Blizzard,” he was cold for his entire life. He had long grown accustomed to the cold, yet before his death, he felt a profound suffering because of it. It was like a chronic illness rooted in his soul, worse than a migraine and impossible to cure. His blood-stained hand fell limp, and the roars of the people around him rang in his ears: “The Grandmaster has passed! The Grandmaster has passed!”

And the woman in the halo of light never looked back.

Amidst the chaos, Jiang Xueya walked out of Beichen Hall and placed spiritual stones into the central star array. The timing was perfect—exactly at noon, with the sun high in the sky, all the stones were in place. A massive pillar of light erupted from the array. The officers fighting in Beichen Hall unconsciously stopped their blades and watched in awe. In the four directions of Biandu, equally magnificent and massive pillars of blue light rose, like the legendary four pillars supporting the heavens. The sky turned dark, and the clouds became a massive vortex. Everyone in Biandu stopped what they were doing and looked up in panic.

Several miles away, the newly awakened Su Ruhui wrapped himself in a fox fur robe and stood up tremblingly, gazing at the changing sky over Biandu.

“It’s over,” he murmured hoarsely.

“What happened?” the thugs and monks looked at each other. “What is happening in Biandu?”

Su Ruhui finally understood. The star array Jiang Xueya had him lay out was not for some “demon-reflecting mirror,” but to mimic the overall displacement of Black Street years ago—amplifying the effect of the Formless Gate to move the Demon Royal City to Biandu.

This was how the demon race overcame the ten thousand miles to descend upon the mortal realm. This was how they dealt with the Juntian Star Array of the Snowy Great Wall. They did not trek, they did not besiege cities; they used Su Ruhui, stealing his star charts and star arrays to directly bypass the mortal realm’s strongest defense.

Jiang Xueya had successfully activated the array. What about his Uncle? He feared the worst. If his Uncle were safe, how could he have allowed her to activate the array? Su Ruhui was filled with agony, and in his fury, he spat out a mouthful of blood.

Seeing his extreme agitation, Sang Chiyu struck the back of his neck with the side of his hand, and he collapsed into Sang Chiyu’s arms.

Sang Chiyu looked into the distance and said in a deep voice, “Send word to Han Ye. Close the Black Street outposts in Biandu. All Black Street personnel in Biandu are to evacuate immediately.”

Just as he finished speaking, a massive city appeared from the black vortex above Biandu, descending like a magnificent steel beast. Rocky demon palaces, pitch-black temples, towering stone towers… and other strange, nameless buildings pressed down upon Biandu, blotting out the sun. People fled in all directions, screaming as the wooden walkways, teahouses, taverns, homes, and temples behind them were crushed into pieces by the descending city. Countless terrifying monsters flew out of those black buildings—some with membrane wings, others with long tails. Their only similarity was their icy blue eyes. Their gazes were cold and bloodthirsty, reflecting the ant-like figures of the fleeing people below.

The demons hissed, and blood buried Biandu.

Before Beichen Hall, Jiang Xueya knelt respectfully on one knee. Before her, a magnificent shadow loomed over her.

Keeping her head lowered, she spoke each word clearly, “I welcome the King of Luofu to the mortal realm. From this day forth, the four seas of the mortal realm shall all be our demon land!”