Such a method could only be described as divine and unfathomable. To erase the inscription on the plaque from a distance and replace it with a new name—this was not mere sleight of hand, but an act of conjuration. Who in the world could accomplish such a feat?
Nie Changqing drew in a deep breath, his worldview once again shattered by the young lord's abilities. Ningzhao was astonished as well, but she soon regained her composure—after all, the miracles that radiated from this man were far too numerous to count.
With his pig-slaying blade slung over his shoulder, Nie Changqing watched as Ningzhao craned her slender, porcelain-like neck, gazing up at the newly inscribed name upon the pavilion.
"White Jade Capital…"
The two murmured, softly tasting the name on their lips.
"From this day forth, 'White Jade Capital' shall be the young lord's dominion," Lu Fan said, seated in his wheelchair, idly rubbing his fingers, a gentle smile curling his lips. "And you two—shall be its first disciples."
"Thank you, Young Lord, for your grace," Nie Changqing and Ningzhao both felt a subtle tremor stir within their hearts.
Lu Fan propped his chin with one hand and nodded slightly, his mood radiant. "From now on, when you walk the world, you need only proclaim yourselves as disciples of White Jade Capital."
"Yes," they responded with a slight nod.
A breeze stirred, lifting the fallen peach blossoms from the ground. Lu Fan sat quietly in his wheelchair, his temples adorned with wind-blown locks. Like jade among men, the young lord was peerless in the world.
Ningzhao gazed at him, momentarily dazed. A sharp glint flashed within Nie Changqing's eyes.
White Jade Capital…
Soon, this name would reverberate throughout the Grand Zhou. Perhaps, it would rise above all the myriad sects and schools.
Nie Changqing, once a discarded disciple of the Dao Sect, now bore a new identity… Disciple of White Jade Capital.
And he had a premonition—this new name, Disciple of White Jade Capital Nie Changqing, would one day eclipse his former self entirely.
Lowering his head, Nie Changqing looked at the scattered peach blossoms at his feet. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
From a stray dog cast out by the Dao Sect… to now, a rightful disciple of White Jade Capital. Everything—was turning for the better.
As Lu Fan sat in his wheelchair, the plaque above him now bore the characters "White Jade Capital," written in majestic strokes. Ningzhao remained entranced by the young lord's figure, while Nie Changqing stood lost in thought.
At the base of the stone steps beneath the grand edifice, the courtesans of Drunken Dust Pavilion sat paralyzed with fear, still haunted by the vision of all the peach blossoms wilting in an instant. Especially the madam, whose face was etched with dread.
No one had seen them change the plaque, yet… the Drunken Dust Pavilion's name was gone! Replaced by the words—"White Jade Capital."
White Jade Capital? What in heaven's name was that?
...
"Sister Ning, send these courtesans off the island. Give them some silver, let them settle elsewhere."
"I do not wish to see anyone on this island henceforth, save those of White Jade Capital."
"Old Nie, guard Heartlake Island. Without my permission, none shall set foot here."
Lu Fan leaned his head against his hand, his voice cool and calm.
"Yes."
Ningzhao bowed and descended the stone steps, heading toward the trembling courtesans and the stunned madam. Nie Changqing also nodded, standing silently at the gate with his butcher's blade.
Lu Fan's thoughts stirred. A prompt emerged before his eyes.
"Enlightenment-Causing Couplet: Door Couplets (Top-grade Mystic Treasure. Contains a Dao Resonance aura. Observers have a 1 in 10,000 chance of attaining enlightenment. The higher the cultivation, the greater the chance.)"
"Install the couplets?"
Lu Fan raised an eyebrow. A top-grade mystic treasure? His Spirit Pressure Chessboard was merely a low-grade mystic treasure—yet this door couplet exceeded even that?
By now, Lu Fan had come to understand the system's classification of treasures: Heaven, Earth, Mystic, and Yellow—each divided into four tiers: Low, Middle, High, and Top.
"Install them."
With a silent command, the transformation began.
The flirtatious old couplets vanished from the doors, replaced by two vertical plaques forged from black iron:
"The heavens a chessboard, stars as pieces.""The earth a pipa, roads its strings."
Lu Fan stared at the conjured couplets, his brow arching slightly. Intriguing.
Just by looking, he could feel a mysterious pressure surging toward him.
He rubbed his brow and looked away. No sign of enlightenment yet—indeed, such luck seemed to elude him.
Of course, perhaps he simply lacked the qualifications. Enlightenment was for those of profound wisdom, or for cultivators standing at the cusp of a breakthrough. Lu Fan—well, he was hardly the typical cultivator.
"Old Nie," Lu Fan called out.
Nie Changqing turned, looking back.
Lu Fan said nothing—he merely raised a finger toward the black iron couplets.
Nie Changqing froze. His eyes drifted to the plaques.
First glance—nothing.Second glance—his pupils contracted.Third glance—his heart was struck as if by thunder.
Pfft!
A mouthful of blood burst from his lips. The force within his body surged uncontrollably. Six internal reverberations rang out violently. As though struck by a titanic force, he staggered backward.
Stumbling several steps, he felt an overwhelming pressure crushing his entire being. His eyes bloodshot, he locked his gaze onto the couplets. It felt as though his very eyeballs were about to burst.
Finally, his knees gave out.
Crack! The blue bricks beneath split from the impact.
Lu Fan's brow arched, somewhat surprised. With a thought, his wheelchair turned toward the scene.
He hadn't expected Nie Changqing to react so violently.
Ragged gasps filled the air as Nie Changqing heaved for breath, bloodshot eyes wide. He lowered his head, averting his gaze, frustration twisting his features.
As he looked at the couplets, a deeper understanding of the Blade Sovereign's Manual had flashed through his mind—yet that fleeting moment of insight had vanished too quickly to grasp.
"What a pity…"
"Your cultivation is still too low. That couplet holds a trace of Dao resonance. With higher cultivation, you might have gained more."
Lu Fan leaned back in his wheelchair, speaking lightly.
Just then, his gaze was drawn toward the edges of Heartlake Island. His expression shifted, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
Around the island, all the peach blossoms had withered, drained of life force. A mere breeze reduced them to ashes.
In their place, ten emerald-glass-like plants had sprung from the earth. Within each, vitality simmered—on the verge of bursting forth.
"Hmm?"
Lu Fan was astonished. These Skyward Spirit Chrysanthemums had grown so quickly?
Then he understood—and smiled.
The moment they were planted, these seeds voraciously devoured the life essence of ordinary flora to nourish themselves. Among plants, there was no morality—only instinct.
The strong devour the weak.
Lu Fan gently rubbed his palm, his gaze sharpening. It was clear now—no other vegetation could grow on this island unless it, too, was a spiritual plant.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. One day, these chrysanthemums would sway in the wind across the peninsula, bringing with them an air of tranquil leisure.
In his heart, he was filled with anticipation. Once the ten Spirit Chrysanthemums bloomed and released their aura—combined with his own spirit infusion—Heartlake Island would become a realm of ethereal serenity. A true haven for cultivation.
With hope for the future brimming within, Lu Fan stretched lazily.
"It's time to return to North Luo City—and resolve the matter of the noble clans and sword sects."
He leaned on his hand, toying with a chess piece.
"I'm usually a patient man—but I've little tolerance for disrespect. If Father can't do it… then I shall."
He chuckled softly, a strange gleam dancing in his eyes.
"After all—within North Luo, where White Jade Capital resides, there shall be no room for any other power."