Radiant Blade of the Wilderness

Yesterday, Ding Songyan had believed that he had no substantive contact with this "distinguished guest." Zhen household members were watching the whole time. Even verbal exchanges were restricted. He shouldn’t have been suspected. That was why he had dared go to the North Lane pleasure quarter to await the promised opportunity and witness the wonders of numerology.

Who knew the Zhen household operated on a policy of "better to err on suspicion than let anything slide," deploying retainers to tail him in rotation even under these circumstances.

As Ding Songyan saw it, if the Zhen household was truly doing this because of the "distinguished guest" rather than tracing the Secret Classic’s origins, then this "guest" should have foreseen what would follow. Yesterday’s numerology and "fortuitous encounter" were deliberately used as a pretext to lure him to the North Lane pleasure quarter. From the Zhen household’s perspective, his movements would now look blatantly suspicious and his behavior abnormal.

Even if he chose to come clean to the Zhen household afterward, they would suspect it was a ruse within a ruse. Given that his status and position were of no importance to them, the outcome was predictable.

He truly could not clear the accusations even if he jumped into the Yellow River!

And even if the Zhen household believed him, being entangled in a matter they guarded so closely meant the probability of being silenced might not be ten out of ten, but it being nine out of ten was a certainty.

The treachery of human hearts! I never provoked you, never offended you, yet from the very start you harbored malicious intent to drag me under! Ding Songyan felt a surge of anger. He reached for the teacup beside him, hoping the act of wetting his throat would temper his emotions.

Though he had spent years in the cutthroat world of business, he had at least operated in a well-ordered society with reliable law enforcement. He had genuinely never encountered someone who, upon first meeting, schemed to ruin you utterly. Moreover, he did not fully understand the mysterious workings of this world’s various arts. He had assumed that without overt communication, he would not be suspected. That assumption had landed him in this impossible position.

He took a gulp of tea and fought to suppress his anger and panic.

One of the most important lessons from all his years was to never let emotions drive decisions. Never think or decide while anger, panic, or fear ruled the mind.

As the violent emotions partially subsided, he caught a familiar scent.

The scent of a con.

Many scams he had heard of, witnessed, or even experienced shared a common pattern—first frighten, then entice. First, one would use every method to either make the target terrified, panicked or confused, or genuinely place them in a predicament, then reveal "identity" or "power," and use the resulting momentum to guide the disoriented, rattled victim into doing what served their purposes.

Everything you did yesterday and said today was meant to make me afraid, wasn’t it? Let’s see what you say next and how you "entice"... By the time Ding Songyan returned his teacup to the Zhen household member beside him, he had largely regained his composure.

In his mind, the aged, rasping voice still echoed.

"Even if I hadn’t tricked you into going to the North Lane pleasure quarter, the Zhen household would not have spared you.

"The moment they sent someone who wasn’t a Zhen family member to tell stories, I knew Zhen Qianfan was running out of patience.

"Think carefully. Did the Zhen family take measures to control your parents and leverage them to keep you silent about the storytelling? Haven’t their promises to you gone unfulfilled—things they won’t bring up unless you do?

"In their eyes, the moment you agreed to tell me stories, you were already a dead man."

Still in the "frightening" stage... But the Zhen household’s behavior truly has been abnormal. For something that requires blindfolding and winding passages just to reach the room, they believed my verbal promise to keep the secret? Ding Songyan opened his folding fan again and began narrating the wedding scene between Lady Bai and Xu Xian without missing a beat.

"Young friend, you and I are bound together on the same rope. Only by setting aside our differences and working together can we find survival in the midst of death," the aged, rasping voice continued.

And now the "enticement"... Whether the purpose is genuine or false is hard to say... Ding Songyan assessed the other’s words coolly, never faltering in his narration.

The aged, rasping voice echoed once more.

"As a show of sincerity, I shall first lend you a thread of qi, allowing you to communicate with me in the sea of consciousness without being heard by Zhen Qianfan or those beside you.

"This qi, residing within you, has various practical uses. In the eyes, it pierces illusions. In the hands, it can hurt others. In the feet, it aids leaping. In the soul, it protects the body. However, you must remember: outside this dungeon, you can only use it twice."

Showing his true colors? Is the real goal to trick me into dropping my mental guard so his "qi" can enter? Ding Songyan scoffed inwardly and had no intention of agreeing.

At that moment, the cool energy descending from the crown of his head grew enormously dense, pouring in like a river of stars, and swiftly coalesced into a faintly glowing, shimmering "seed."

As the "seed" turned gently, Ding Songyan’s consciousness seemed to split in two. One half continued telling The Legend of the White Snake fluently, emotions rising and falling with the story. The other half had shrunk to hover above a vast, undulating sea of golden light.

The sky above the sea was entirely wrapped in thick mist. Only at the highest point was there a single gap, from which a pale, luminous glow descended.

In the light, there was a figure standing with his hands behind his back. He was wearing a Huayang Daoist cap and a cyan scholar’s robe. His temples were gray, and his face was thin. He had a refined temperament, and his eyes were wholly black, as though concealing deep pools.

He forced it in without my consent? Then what was all that talk for? I couldn’t have resisted anyway... Is this still part of the "enticement"? What cultivation method is this, to be so wondrous... Ding Songyan was both alarmed and suspicious.

And an elder possessing such a wondrous art was still imprisoned in Zhen Qianfan’s dungeon, unable to free himself!

"Senior, what exactly do you want?" Ding Songyan took the initiative and cupped his hands.

The old man took two steps with his hands behind his back and nodded approvingly.

"Your mind remains unshaken. There is promise in your future."

First I need to have a future... Ding Songyan waited for the other to continue.

The old man smiled faintly.

"You need not panic these next few days. Before you finish telling me the story, and before the Zhen household finds any evidence, they won’t do anything to you.

"As for my purpose, you should have already guessed. Help me escape this prison. Help me recover. And in return, I shall grant you a great chance to change your life."

"Senior, I’m powerless. I can barely restrain a chicken. What makes you think I can help you escape? Forget Patriarch Zhen—even these two Zhen household members beside me could beat me to death with their fists." Ding Songyan laughed in disbelief.

Aren’t you overestimating me just a little?

The old man’s dark eyes fixed on Ding Songyan. He spoke with perfect calm, "Great strength is just the icing on the cake. It doesn’t matter if you’re weak. Once you start to do as I say, you’ll find that the accomplished have no lack for help. There will be many people to help you."

"Then why must it be me?" Ding Songyan would not be so easily deceived.

The old man nodded slightly.

"Good. You have the caution I possessed in my youth.

"To be honest, Zhen Qianfan sent you here to tell me stories precisely because he wanted me to make use of you. I am merely turning his scheme against him. Otherwise, why would he insist on choosing someone with barely any connection to the Zhen household and no martial ability? The Zhen household’s own members have been studying storytelling for ages—could they really not learn The Legend of the White Snake?"

That’s a fair point. Master Yu clearly followed me to the North Lane pleasure quarter yesterday, yet the Zhen household has shown no reaction today. Even accounting for Ren Youyang, if they chose not to kill me, they should still have done something. The way things stand now, isn’t it obvious they’re setting a trap? Ding Songyan deliberately showed an expression of agreement.

The old man looked up at the mist-shrouded "sky" and chuckled.

"Your performance has exceeded my expectations. It gives me hope."

"Senior, what is actually going on?" Ding Songyan played along, trying to extract more information.

Of course, he was well aware that whatever the other said would be a mixture of truth and falsehood. He could neither believe all of it nor dismiss all of it.

The old man in the Huayang Daoist cap and cyan robe paced toward Ding Songyan and sighed.

"I was blind to have treated Zhen Qianfan as a brother, someone whom I could give my back to.

"My original name is Yan Changqing. In my youth, my family had scholarly roots. But one day, an elder in my family provoked a heretical sect, and our entire household was massacred. I alone survived.

"That night, I had climbed the wall and gone out to hang out with a bunch of riffraff I called friends. I actually escaped because of this. One of those riffraff was Zhen Qianfan.

"Later, I fled far away. Relying on connections my ancestors had cultivated, I joined a sect and cultivated powerful arts.

"For revenge, I sought opportunities everywhere. Fortune smiled upon me more than once, and for a time I made quite a name for myself.

"One day I returned to my hometown and found that my childhood friends had scattered to the winds. Only Zhen Qianfan could still be found. His family had fallen on hard times. He had joined the Four Waters Brotherhood and was cultivating some wretched Water Ape Art.

"I was alone in the world. Remembering our bond from youth and everything we had shared, I revealed myself to him. I helped him acquire various resources. I found him the Northern Sea Fish-Spine Scripture, a legacy from an earlier master that could subsume his Water Ape Art, allowing him to overturn the saying that ’if you haven’t become a Grandmaster by forty, you never will.’ At forty-two, he stepped into the Dharma Realm..."

Yan Changqing sank into memory.

Ding Songyan listened while analyzing which statements were true, which false, and which could be verified.

Yan Changqing withdrew his gaze from the heights. A faint but unmistakable hatred showed in his expression.

"I treated him as my own younger brother. He honored me as his elder brother. But when I sustained grievous injuries seizing a divine artifact and fled to Dingjiang Prefecture seeking his protection, he coveted that artifact. He betrayed his word. He repaid kindness with treachery. He struck while I was helpless.

"Heh. Fortunately, having been near death from my wounds, I had not dared carry the artifact on my person. The moment I seized it, I found a place to hide it. Zhen Qianfan searched me and found nothing, which is the only reason he spared my life. He threw me into this dungeon, interrogating me day and night. I no longer know how many years it has been."

Deliberately vague about how long he’s been imprisoned. Afraid I’ll investigate and uncover his real identity? Ding Songyan had his suspicions.

Yan Changqing returned to his composed, unhurried manner.

"Zhen Qianfan has reached sixty. He can’t wait any longer. All of today’s abnormalities stem from this."

"Why can’t he wait?" Ding Songyan did not ask what the divine artifact was. The other had not mentioned it just now, and asking would likely yield nothing.

Yan Changqing chuckled and said, "His Northern Sea Fish-Spine Scripture is incomplete. After entering the Dharma Realm, there is no further progression. Moreover, it carries certain hidden dangers. Once past sixty, his body will deteriorate rapidly. Without an elixir of immortality, even life-extending treasures will only buy him a few more decades without restoring his strength.

"The divine artifact can help him with this."

"I see." Ding Songyan feigned sudden understanding, then asked casually, "Senior, which sect did you come from?"

Yan Changqing was silent for a moment.

"For that artifact, I betrayed my sect. I dare not speak its name now."

You’re afraid I’ll inquire through the sect and discover there’s no one named Yan Changqing, aren’t you? Ding Songyan scoffed inwardly.