As they spoke, the sound of bronze bells filled the air. A silk curtain descended before the main seat. Soon, a line of celestial maidens appeared, bearing fruits and fans. Shortly after, Yun Nian carefully escorted a woman from the rear of the hall. Once she was seated, all the young cultivators in the hall rose and bowed.
“We thank Imperial Consort Yun for her invitation. May you enjoy longevity and eternal youth.”
Nan Yan joined in the congratulations, discreetly glancing up. Behind the silk curtain sat a dignified noblewoman with graying hair but a still-youthful figure.
…This step-grandmother of hers was already seven hundred years old.
“In my old age, seeing such talented youths from all States brings me indescribable joy. Dear friends who’ve traveled from afar, please drink this cup to the fullest.”
As everyone raised their cups, a figure suddenly arrived outside the hall, riding a crane. The white crane held a string in its beak, from which hung a brocade box. Upon landing, the crane bowed as if sentient, then gracefully walked to the main seat, placing the box before the Imperial Consort before prostrating itself respectfully.
The Imperial Consort smiled at the crane-riding cultivator. “Ah it’s Xingzheng. What’s your excuse for being late?”
He was a handsome young talent, wearing a jade sword and four jade pendants representing alchemy, artifacts, formations, and talismans. He appeared more casual than the Confucian cultivators present, yet impeccably polite in his mannerisms.
He bowed and said, “My master yearns for the Cicada Dew Sorrow from Your Highness’s palace. Before I left, he earnestly instructed me to act coquettishly before you. How could I, a grown man, do such a thing? Troubled by this, I wandered on my way here and got lost. Your Highness is kind-hearted; please take pity on me and spare some more wine so I can fulfill my duty.”
His witty words amused everyone, including the Imperial Consort, who laughed behind her sleeve.
“Well played, Mo Xingzheng. Everyone knows Daosheng Heaven’s disciples are silver-tongued. I won’t argue with you. Bring him three jars of Cicada Dew Sorrow.”
Mo Xingzheng continued, “Thank you for saving my life before my master. This box contains his gift. Please take a look.”
The Imperial Consort, still smiling, had someone bring the box. As she teased Mo Xingzheng, she ordered it to open. Upon seeing its contents, her expression suddenly changed, and she stood up in shock.
“This is…”
Mo Xingzheng bowed deeply. “Master knows of Your Highness’s long-standing concern. Twenty years have passed, and he has been negotiating with the elders of the Righteous Law Hall for some time. Please accept this gift.”
After a moment of silence, the Imperial Consort replied, “Very well… I’m deeply moved by Xuanzai’s thoughtfulness. I suddenly feel unwell and must rest in the rear hall. Since you’re here, Xingzheng, please host the poetry gathering as agreed.”
With that, she left, leaving the attendees bewildered.
Nan Yan’s eyes darkened slightly as she formed a guess. If she wasn’t mistaken, the gift from Daosheng Heaven’s chief disciple was likely a release order for the Demon Sealing Array.
However, when they encountered the array, Xuanzai seemed to have anticipated complications in Li Chi’s journey, even providing an extra release order to free Huo Wuji. Now, so many days later, Nan Yan doubted that Daosheng Heaven was unaware of Nan Yi’s impending escape.
Yet here he was, sending another release order on the Imperial Consort’s birthday in Yin State. What could this mean?
Nan Yan sensed she was caught in some scheme but couldn’t grasp the other party’s intentions. As she pondered, two swallows—one blue, one red—suddenly flew to her table, landing on the fruit platter and gazing at her with their tiny eyes.
Looking up, she saw that similar pairs of swallows had alighted before all the Foundation Establishment cultivators attending the Millennium Celebration. Mo Xingzheng, standing in the center of the hall, began hosting the event with a charming smile and imposing presence.
“In my haste to flatter the Imperial Consort earlier, I neglected to introduce myself properly. Some of you from distant lands may not have heard of me. To be frank, I am the unparalleled genius of Daosheng Heaven, who reached Foundation Establishment at twelve, claimed the Crown of Mountains, Rivers, and Seas at fourteen, and ruled over all States as the previous emperor…”
Wasn’t the previous emperor dead?
Half the hall smiled wryly, while the other half looked astonished. Then Mo Xingzheng added:
“….’s junior brother, who after fifteen years still hasn’t achieved half of what he did in his lifetime. I am Mo Xingzheng.”
Nan Yan was speechless. She then overheard nearby cultivators familiar with Mo Xingzheng whispering:
“There he goes again. Back then, people joked that Daosheng Heaven’s Xuanzai had two outstanding disciples: the deceased emperor was the heavenly talent, and this Mo Xingzheng was the earthly talent. When his senior brother was alive, he constantly challenged him, desperate to compete daily.”
“The previous emperor has been dead for almost twelve years, yet this guy is so persistent. He brings up his short-lived senior brother at every event, afraid the world might forget. What’s wrong with him?”
Nan Yan, quite surprised, whispered to Mu Zhanting, “Isn’t this man the direct disciple of Daosheng Heaven’s sect leader? Shouldn’t he be a Young Lord?”
Mu Zhanting explained, “The previous emperor was from Zi State. This time, Zi State can’t appoint another Young Lord for the Mountain and Sea Prohibition unless the new emperor reigns for a hundred years or dies prematurely. Only then would he have a chance to be named Young Lord. If he participates, judging by his restrained aura, he’s likely suppressing his cultivation like Song Zhu. His odds of winning might not be high.”
Nan Yan felt this man somewhat resembled Shao Cang, though he seemed more lively.
As the banquet’s atmosphere peaked, Mo Xingzheng raised his hand. Blue and red swallows flew in from outside the hall. “We cultivators value martial prowess, but today we’re here to celebrate Imperial Consort Yun’s birthday, so we’ll follow the host’s wishes. Before each of you are blue and red swallows. The blue represents the literary contest, and the red the martial contest. Those choosing the literary contest have one hour to compose on the theme of the Imperial Consort’s longevity. Any form of poetry is acceptable, to be judged by myself and four Nascent Soul Confucian elders. Those choosing the martial contest will be assigned to one of the four battle platforms behind the hall – Earth, Heaven, Mystic, and Yellow. Matches are limited to three moves, with victory determined quickly.”
Behind the hall…
Nan Yan’s main purpose was to explore the Jade Palace’s secret areas, preferably the ancestral hall where her mother’s life jade was kept. Without hesitation, she chose the martial contest. Then she looked up at Mu Zhanting.
Mu Zhanting immediately grabbed the blue swallow representing the literary contest. It transformed into the four treasures of the study on the table.
Nan Yan, recalling Mu Zhanting’s soul-stirring line “To celebrate longevity, one should beat drums; one shout lasts all afternoon,” felt a surge of dread. She whispered, “Brother, are you going to write that poem from yesterday?”
Mu Zhanting replied, “My heart is brimming with ambition. I’m determined to win the literary championship. If needed, I’ll add another poem to overwhelm everyone.”
Nan Yan: “…” Time to slip away.
Leaving the hall, Nan Yan opened her palm. The red swallow had transformed into a crimson jade tablet inscribed with “Mystic One.”
“Those who chose the martial contest, please follow me. Participants with matching numbers will face each other on the platform. Those with earlier numbers should prepare promptly.”
A Jade Palace cultivator guided them out. Nan Yan was surprised to see Yun Nian from Shen State also coming out. As he approached, she asked curiously, “Young Lord, coming from a family of Confucian cultivators, aren’t you participating in the literary contest?”
Yun Nian replied shyly, “I’m not particularly skilled in poetry. I hope to exchange martial techniques with fellow cultivators from various States.”
Nan Yan: “That might be for the best. You may have dodged a bullet.”
Yun Nian: “???”
Passing through three or four majestic palace halls, a vast square opened up before Nan Yan, rivaling the size of the Four Fiends statues plaza. It was divided into four square battle platforms, each with a massive bronze pillar in the center. The pillars were carved with the Azure Dragon, Bai Fox, Vermilion Bird, and Black Turtle – four spiritual beasts.
Yun Nian was assigned to the neighboring ‘Heaven’ platform. After briefly exchanging pleasantries, he left. Nan Yan, holding “Mystic One,” was called up first after everyone took their positions.
“Would the two cultivators with ‘Mystic One’ please come to the platform for the match.”
Nan Yan ascended the platform. Unlike the refined Confucian cultivators in the hall, her opponent was a burly man wearing iron knuckles. Seeing a female nun across from him, he burst into laughter.
“Sister, I’m from the Lei clan of Yin State, capable of controlling thunder and lightning. Though it’s a three-move limit, I fear you won’t withstand even one. You’d better forfeit now.”
Nan Yan probed with her spiritual sense. Her opponent was also at an early Foundation Establishment, like her. As he moved, faint blue sparks crackled between his fingers. A direct hit from his fist would likely cause significant damage.
However, she was no coward. In the past, she had used the Seven Buddhas’ Karma Scripture to bully demonic cultivators. Now, facing a fellow righteous path cultivator, she was curious about the difference in their abilities.
Nan Yan clasped her hands and said, “Thank you for your concern, friend. Though I’m merely a Buddhist cultivator, even if I can’t win, I should be able to withstand a move or two with my Buddhist techniques.”
The spectators below assumed Nan Yan was no match for the Lei clan cultivator and nodded in agreement.
“This nun’s luck in drawing lots was poor. The Lei clan is known for their ruthlessness; he’s unlikely to show mercy.”
“Indeed. Though not a great beauty, she seems gentle and kind. It’s a shame she’ll likely get hurt.”
“Now that you mention it, I just noticed that despite being a Buddhist nun, her figure is quite alluring… ahem.”
As the duel began, the Lei cultivator’s fists crackled with blinding electricity. The fierce winds stirred up by his spiritual energy billowed the nun’s loose robes, causing the watching cultivators to let their imaginations run wild.
— What a waste of such an elegant figure on a Buddhist cultivator, they thought, admiring her form.
While the audience was distracted, the Lei cultivator charged at Nan Yan, trailing sparks and lightning. As he swung his fist, before anyone could react, Nan Yan’s body erupted with the image of the Thousand-Armed Avalokitesvara. Buddhist light and lightning intertwined, devouring each other.
The Lei cultivator was shocked to see Nan Yan standing firm. He sneered, “Hmph, that was only 70% of my power.”
“My apologies. In that case, I’ll use 50% of mine. Please be ready.”
In the next moment, Nan Yan’s prayer beads whipped out, ensnaring the Lei cultivator’s knuckles. With a twist of her body, she hurled him in a full circle, slamming him into the Black Turtle pillar. A thunderous crash echoed as the Lei cultivator slid down the pillar, his face frozen in shock.
… He was no match for her at all.
Silence fell as no one had ever seen such a formidable Buddhist cultivator. The Lei cultivator struggled to his feet, disbelieving: “How can a Buddhist have such power? Again!”
…
Meanwhile, at the main hall, the Confucian cultivators were evaluating poems one by one. The celebratory verses were cast into the air, transforming into golden characters for all to see.
Soon, it was Mu Zhanting’s turn.
Mo Xingzheng, seeing the Young Lord of Chen State for the first time, approached four Nascent Soul Confucian cultivators. Curious, he said, “Brother Mu’s reputation on the battlefield is legendary. I’ve long admired you from afar, but I’ve never heard of your interest in poetry.”
Mu Zhanting replied solemnly, “I’ve studied literature for years, but the Dragon Lord didn’t value it, so no one knew.”
The group gathered around, saying, “A hidden gem indeed! We must admire Brother Mu’s masterpiece.”
As they spoke, a loud thunderclap echoed from afar.
Mo Xingzheng smiled, “It seems the martial contest is intense. We can’t fall behind. Please, Brother Mu, share your work.”
“Wait,” Mu Zhanting suddenly stood. “This is a rare opportunity. Hearing thunder in clear skies has inspired a poem in my heart.”
“Oh?” Mo Xingzheng exclaimed in surprise. “I’ve heard of Cao Zijian composing poetry in seven steps, but Brother Mu can create verse from thunder? After this poem, you’ll surely surpass Cao Zijian. We should call you ‘Nine Measures of Talent’.”
The Confucian cultivators, already fond of poetry, grew even more expectant.
“Then I’ll humbly present it.” Mu Zhanting stood with his hands behind his back. As two more thunderclaps sounded outside, inspiration struck him, and he began to recite:
“A sudden flash of lightning in the sky,
The Jade Emperor rushes to give birthday wishes.
Another flash of lightning appears anew,
He forgot to bring the peaches of immortality.
So comes yet another lightning flash,
The peaches have finally arrived.”
The Confucian cultivators: “…”
So…Shao Cong is the short-lived previous emperor?
I can’t keep track of their levels. I thought they were beyond Foundation, Establishment, but I guess not. Also not sure why the empress is celebrating her millennial if she’s only 700. That’s a centennial. Will eldest bro manage to win through sheer avante garde audacity? Who can judge genius?