Yu Gongzi paused briefly, then turned his gaze toward the black-cloaked silhouette beside him. "Honored One," he said with a playful smile, "this game is becoming more and more entertaining. I wonder—when will your Saintess of Nine Yin enter the field?"
The figure in black let out a chilling chuckle. "No need to rush, my dear Chairman. There's still eight days until the Martial Assembly. The Nine Yin Saintess is our final trump card. She cannot be played lightly, not until the last moment. Still..." His voice dropped into a whisper, sinister and contemplative. "It might be time to let her make contact with Qin Ren. Just a touch… to sow the seeds."
Yu Gongzi nodded. "That's reasonable. Yet, this game is beginning to slip beyond our control. Doesn't that trouble you?"
"Trouble?" The Honored One's voice was cold, indifferent. "It's only a game. Why worry? Competing for the world is not the same as competing in the martial world. So what if the Xiaoyao Manor has a thousand disciples and three thousand warriors? Against the tide of history, they are but twigs in a storm. If we cannot tame them, then we'll sweep them away."
He paused. "All, except Qin Ren… the boy with the Asura Devil Eyes. I wonder, my dear Chairman—do you wish to keep him… or kill him?"
Yu Gongzi was silent for a moment, eyes narrowed in thought. "Tai Gong Wang once prophesied, 'He who bears the Asura Eyes shall claim the world.' No one truly understands what it means. Either path—death or survival—entails risk. What do you propose?"
"In my view," said the Honored One, "he should be kept—for now. Any faction we can absorb, we shall. Those we can't… we crush. I have already brought with me the Four Winds of Destruction, the Hundred Sins Brigade, the 108 Misty Shadows of Jiangnan, and the 366 Blades of Northern Desert. Once the Assembly descends into chaos, our people will sweep in to reap the harvest. As for Qin Ren, we act when the time is right. Should the prophecy imply the second meaning—elimination—we end him. Until then, as long as we hold him in our grasp, it matters not whether he lives or dies. He's just another piece on our board."
Yu Gongzi's eyes glinted. "But the war cannot begin without him. If Qin Ren doesn't show… the fuse won't be lit. And now, he's vanished. How do we lure him out?"
The Honored One's reply came like a whisper of death. "We don't need to lure him anymore."
He continued, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. "One of our four renegades—'Time-Spared Fiend' Qiao Qitian—has appeared at Qin Ren's side. I sent men to speak with him. None returned. Likely, they were silenced. But that's exactly what I wanted. Qiao Qitian is cunning and vengeful. He'll see through the trap we've set. And he'll urge Qin Ren to rebel—if only to get his revenge through the boy."
Yu Gongzi raised an eyebrow. "That one's still alive? He was the most dangerous of them. How do you know he'll push Qin Ren?"
"Because Qiao Qitian understands people. He's a master manipulator. He'll exploit Qin Ren's naivety, stir up his resentment. He wants vengeance against me, and he'll use Qin Ren to get it. He will push him into the Assembly. And once the boy enters… he won't be able to escape what's coming."
Yu Gongzi chuckled. "You think of everything, Honored One. I'm impressed. But what of Du Gongfu's daughter, Du Xiaoyan? She's gotten close to Qin Ren. That could complicate things."
The Honored One sneered. "Du Gongfu is a dog who can bite. But there are many dogs in this world. Let him lose face at the Assembly. His anger will fall naturally on Qin Ren. He'll stir the crowd into a frenzy for us. Far better than acting ourselves. His righteous reputation will make the flames of conflict burn brighter."
Yu Gongzi nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense. Still, Qin Ren is... difficult to control."
The Honored One's voice turned softer—like venom laced with honey. "No need to worry. The Nine Yin Saintess is the perfect leash. Once she is placed at his side, even if he is heartless, even if he has no love left in him—he will not escape her charm. That much, I promise."
Yu Gongzi laughed. "Then I'll leave the hard part to you. As for me… I can hardly restrain my own charms. But with you beside me, how can we fail? This world will be ours."
The Honored One bowed ever so slightly. "To serve you is my greatest honor."
Yu Gongzi's lips curved into a cruel smile. He raised a hand and pointed to the last crimson glow in the western sky. "This world… shall not fall to that useless Ah Hai. This beautiful, glittering world belongs to me! The martial world, the rivers and lakes… they're only the prologue. Once the heroes gather—then the true game begins. Hahahaha…"
The Honored One remained silent at his side, his expression hidden behind layers of shadow. No one could say what thoughts lay behind that mask. No one dared guess what he truly felt.
Dawn.
A pale mist blanketed the garden like a dream. Dew clung to the blades of grass and fell like shattered pearls onto the mossy stone path. The air was cool, the sky overcast, veiled by gray clouds that turned the world faint and distant—almost unreal.
This unassuming courtyard on the western edge of Dingzhou appeared like any ordinary noble's estate. But within its modest walls lived one of the most dangerous men in the realm—Li Gu, the "Phantom Lord," once among the four grand demonic overlords, now the most wanted criminal in all of Yan Province.
Here, hidden away from prying eyes, the long-missing Qin Ren was recovering.
Inside the western pavilion, in a chamber that smelled faintly of lavender and sandalwood, lay a lavishly adorned bed fit for a princess. Qin Ren, shirtless, lay fast asleep. His shoulder was bandaged, his body curled up tightly—his face buried against the soft, snow-white chest of Qiu Ruomei.
One hand held her shoulder, the other rested upon her breast. His sleeping posture was not that of a proud young master or a feared martial prodigy—but of a child, curled against the warmth he feared to lose.
Qiu Ruomei had long since awoken.
One hand stroked his hair softly, the other gently massaged his wounded shoulder with practiced care.
She gazed down at him, her heart aching. You look just like a frightened child... hiding in my arms, hoping I'll protect you. Are you that afraid of being hurt?
She recalled her master once saying: Those who bury their faces in their partner's chest while they sleep often carry deep, hidden fear. A need for protection...
But what do you have to fear, Ah Ren?
You are the third son of the Qin family. Your father was the great Zhetian Hand. Your brothers—one is the Starry Sword Saint, the other the Mad Thunder Blade. Your mother was Tie Ling'er. Your uncle is the Iron-Shaping Palm. You are brilliant, undefeated, destined for greatness. Wealth beyond measure. Responsibilities shouldered by others.
Why, then, are you so afraid?
Shouldn't a man hold the woman in his arms, and offer her safety?
But no... you're still just a boy. However strong, however wild—you're just a child...
With a sigh, Qiu Ruomei gently moved his hand off her body and slipped out of bed. She pulled the blanket over him with care, then dressed quickly and quietly. After retrieving her small bundle and sword, she made her way to the door.
She looked back one last time at the boy sleeping with his back turned to her.
"Leaving already, Mei-jie?" came Qin Ren's voice.
She froze.
Still facing the wall, he hadn't moved.
"You're leaving already?" he repeated.
She said nothing.
"I guess... now that my wounds are healed, you've fulfilled your promise."
"…Ah Ren," she finally said. "You always quote poetry at me. Better to forget each other in the rivers and lakes, than to cling on and drown in shallow waters."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Qin Ren said quietly, "Very well, Mei-jie. Safe travels. Close the door behind you—I'd like to sleep a little longer."
She bit her lip. He never turned to look at her.
"…Take care," she whispered, and stepped out the door.
She moved swiftly through the courtyard—but after a dozen paces, she stopped, turned back toward the quiet pavilion. The windows remained closed.
Two silent tears slipped down her cheek.
Then, suddenly—from behind those closed windows—came a storm of music. The fierce, thunderous strum of a guzheng erupted like warhorses charging into battle, laced with anguish and longing. And then—his voice. Qin Ren's voice, singing through the mist:
"My blade unsheathed upon the earth,The battle ends in truth or death.In love's sky, where hatred breathes,Who tells what lies beneath each breath?"
"In the sea of men, tears and laughter,Where mercy fades, and grudges gather..."
(To be continued…)