Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 65: The Summit

A gentle breeze drifted by, willow branches swayed and danced, and beneath the swirling tufts of willow, the sunlight lay soft as water.

Xu Wei, carrying her weary body, appeared at the riverbank, sitting down with a lost and troubled look. It was the first time she had journeyed so far from the capital. Here, in a secluded and beautiful valley of Yu Kingdom, the mountains and waters were serene, distant villages peaceful and orderly, their houses neatly lined—and yet, warmth eluded her.

As evening approached, smoke curled up from every household chimney, a scene unfamiliar to some, leaving her somewhat dazed. Had she once imagined, in idle daydreams, that she too could live as ordinary folk—working at sunrise, resting at sunset? Perhaps she might find someone who cherished her, to spend their lives together.

But all along, she had been too young to understand sorrow.

The breeze caressed her softly, and leaves fell with a gentle rustle, landing at her feet. Her white dress and its ribbons fluttered with the wind, her lustrous black hair rising and falling. Tears, like pearls, rolled slowly down her exquisite cheeks, dropping onto her pristine collar.

Yang Hao, still trying to persuade her one last time, believed this princess was a delicate flower grown in a greenhouse, spoiled beyond measure. Wang Chuan, though deeply attached to her, would, after their formal marriage, bring her along. Now facing such peril, though he didn't speak it aloud, he felt she was too much of a burden.

"So what if she is? Wang Chuan, have you lost your mind? If we have the means to protect her for life, why let her endure the world's dangers? These matters are ours to handle—even if our hands run red with blood, it's for the sake of shielding those we wish to protect." Wang Chuan rebuked him coldly. "My affairs are not yours to meddle with. Wei'er is good at heart; no amount of pampering will spoil her. You wouldn't treat your own child like this, so there's no need to say more. Some people don't need to bear so much—why force them to live such a weary life!"

It was then that Yang Hao, in a moment of clarity, realized that Xu Wei's presence was like a warm light falling upon Wang Chuan.

The road of martial arts is long, and some must walk it alone.

Yet, at times, one cannot help but recall that frail, tragic figure of destiny.

But there were also those like Xu Wei, protected by towering walls, who could live purely and beautifully.

These two states were extremes.

No wonder that the ruler of Yu finally agreed to let Wang Chuan protect her—he had always understood.

Even so, Wang Chuan was not one to be swayed; he would resolutely forge ahead. Xu Wei would live as his ideal, and he would always shield her, as if she were a ray of pure moonlight.

Let it be so.

"Why are you crying? Are you already homesick?" Wang Chuan came to Xu Wei's side, gently laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Mm." Xu Wei wiped her tears, her face tinged with caution and nervousness. "Brother Chuan, you must have suffered greatly as a child. You were so young then."

"No, I always felt abandoned, so I learned to be strong, to look out for myself, without thinking of anything else." Wang Chuan spoke honestly, somewhat somber. "To feel pain is a blessing, too—it means there are people you care about and can't bear to leave. Wei'er, don't be afraid. I'll protect you, and whenever you miss home, I'll take you back."

Xu Wei gazed at him, recalling that weathered and lonely figure buried deep in her heart. Her tears welled up once more.

She moved her lips and whispered, "Brother Chuan... I won't cry anymore."

"It's all right. Emotions must be expressed; we are human, with desires and feelings. The realm I've sought—even if I reach it—still contains passion, though much diminished. Otherwise, I'd cease to be human, and no longer myself. Don't worry about me—just be yourself." Wang Chuan pointed to the distance. "See, even in the same place, everyone's life is different. Some are like these flowers, withering after the rain; some are like the grass, resilient, battered time and again, yet revived by the spring breeze; some grow larger and stronger, enduring hardship, and become great trees that shelter others."

"When you're with me, you needn't think of anything else. I'll be your shelter, your sky. Sometimes, a single smile makes it all worthwhile."

Xu Wei blushed, covering her face with her delicate hand, unable to meet Wang Chuan's gaze.

Her skin was snowy white, tinged with rosy red, her figure tall and slender. Her bashful face bloomed like a peach blossom, beautiful beyond compare.

Wang Chuan gently embraced her, inhaling the rich, fragrant scent she carried—like osmanthus and musk—losing himself in it. His hands caressed her supple skin, so soft and smooth he could not let go.

Hearing her soft moan, a gentle sound escaped her throat, her body trembling slightly. Her lovely eyes, once tightly shut, now opened a sliver, her cherry lips parting, moving with each breath.

Wang Chuan released her, going no further. "Come, it's time to go."

"Mm." Xu Wei replied softly, her head bowed, letting him lead her away by the hand.

Later, she would often remember the flowers growing beneath the great tree, naïve and untouched by the world, nestled together.

In that moment, she had already possessed everything.

The carriage rested for a while, then set off once more.

"The elder has gone to invite Duan Changfeng," Yang Hao reported. "In a couple of days, he should join us."

He glanced at Xu Wei again, deciding not to dwell on Wang Chuan's affairs—they were beyond his reach.

And with Wang Chuan's might, what was there to worry about?

"As you wish, handle it as you see fit," Wang Chuan said, unconcerned.

He wasn't familiar with Duan Changfeng, having only heard of him today.

Unlike the other two, who were well-traveled for certain reasons.

Now, their talents were being used to elevate Wang Chuan to the status of Emperor of Men.

But such a title was not easily attained.

"This one won't be easy to persuade, but with the elder involved, there should be a way." Yang Hao chatted casually. "The Fourth Prince once visited him thrice, but Duan Changfeng refused to leave the mountain. By the way, I haven't told your Highness yet—he's currently cultivating at Cloud Creek Peak."

"Cloud Creek Peak, now I know. It's one of the most revered martial sanctuaries, though no longer at its former height, and can't compare to the exalted Martial Academy, yet it still holds depth and power," Wang Chuan replied. "For most martial artists, it's a threshold to greatness."

Long ago, Cloud Creek Peak was among the ten great sects of the realm.

Once, its master was a remarkable leader, skilled in the arts of life and death, capable of reversing yin and yang, overturning mortality.

Such abilities piqued Wang Chuan's interest.

Yang Hao smiled, knowing that when martial arts were discussed, Wang Chuan could speak endlessly.

"Duan Changfeng is a seeker of martial arts; if it's your Highness, he'll surely want to meet you," Yang Hao said. "The elder is confident."

"In that case, why leave the mountain at all?" Wang Chuan shook his head. "Does he think Cloud Creek Peak has nothing more to teach him? Why not devote himself to cultivation instead of seeking me?"

If one's resolve was lacking, Wang Chuan found them uninteresting.

Like the Fourth Prince, who could hold steadfast after three visits—would Duan Changfeng change his mind for Wang Chuan?

Those so-called martial prodigies failed to excite Wang Chuan.

After all he'd witnessed, he found them unimpressive.

He admitted they were more talented than most, but none could compare to himself.

Few truly single-minded souls pursue the Way; future greatness is uncertain.

Wang Chuan saw them as ordinary, the difference between fifty and a hundred paces.

Perhaps, when opportunity arose, he might see the demon god foretold by Tianxingzi—the future Demon Emperor?

Such figures could stir his interest.

Yang Hao understood, hesitating before saying, "I don't know his true pursuit, but I believe he'll leave the mountain. Your Highness, few martial artists can sever worldly desires—even you haven't, have you?"

Yang Hao's words carried meaning.

Wang Chuan nodded, conceding the point. "If he comes, I'll see what kind of man he is."

"The Fourth Prince visited thrice, believing he'd eventually leave the mountain. We think the same—only someone like your Highness is worthy of his aid. Even the ruler of Jin may not qualify," Yang Hao said boldly, without fear. "We all know he's from a family of military merit, descended from generals. His pursuits may align with yours, seeking martial mastery... In any case, the elder will know once he meets him."

Tianxingzi would do whatever it took to persuade such a figure.

If Wang Chuan truly sought the world, such allies were indispensable.

If Tianxingzi couldn't persuade him, how could he convince the even more stubborn Wang Chuan to vie for the imperial throne?

Thus, failure was not an option!

"A general's descendant—so that's it," Wang Chuan nodded, now understanding. "So he's more than just a martial arts master."

"Of course. If that were all, why would so many value him? Ten years ago, he was Jin's youngest captain, only thirteen or fourteen, commanding five thousand troops to drive out the northern barbarians, slaying thousands!" Yang Hao explained. "Your Highness knows of the Military Martial Hall."

"Yes, established by Jin's ruler. Most of Jin's young leaders come from there, selected through martial exams," Wang Chuan said.

Jin's ruler revealed his ambition long ago.

After ascending the throne, he centralized power and began to control the military.

He founded the Military Martial Hall, cultivating numerous young commanders. Today's Jin generals are mostly his confidants, drawn from the hall or once personal guards.

All trained and promoted by him—his loyalists!

Within the army, no other voices remain.

Thus, at his word, Jin troops appeared quietly on Yu's border.

And before that, the seizure of Yan Province.

"Over ten years ago, Duan Changfeng was the youngest student at the Military Martial Hall, already showing great talent—his studies in strategy, tactics, military law, martial arts... always first! The tutors and Jin's ruler saw him as a future great general. Then came the battle driving back the barbarians, and he became famous, proving himself," Yang Hao continued. "A pillar of gold, a column of jade—such burdens are not for ordinary men. Who knows what heights he's reached after ten years of secluded cultivation."

...

Cloud Creek Peak.

Tianxingzi rode the winds south for five thousand miles, arriving in two hours.

Wang Chuan and his companions never worried about him—this old man was formidable! Having roamed the world for years, he had weathered every storm. Skilled in divination, able to foresee fortune and calamity.

"Heaven and earth are inscrutable, the Way mysterious. The body can be mended, the six paths sought."

In front of a secluded and tranquil wooden hut, a young man in white read an ancient tome.

"Fading, fading! Why not return?
If not for you, why linger in the dew?
Fading, fading! Why not return?
If not for you, why dwell in the mud?"

Tianxingzi arrived on the wind, his sleeves billowing in the mighty gusts. "Duan Changfeng, the wise ruler has emerged, a great age is dawning. Will you let your learning remain hidden in these mountains? Come with me. Soon, chaos will spread across all realms—why not stem the tide, support heaven, and aid the people?"

The young man in white rose at these words, his eyes shining like stars. "Elder, when you passed by before, I asked you how to become a god. The saints have returned to dust, the gods fallen; humanity has forged its own glory. The times have changed. No one becomes a god or a saint."

"You didn't answer then, saying the moment wasn't right. Do you have an answer now?"

"I've come today to take you to see Wang Chuan, as you recall recent events," Tianxingzi replied.

"Wang Chuan? When the ancient demon god's tomb opened, he fought three at once, challenging demon saints and gods. You want me to meet him?"

"Precisely," Tianxingzi nodded.

"I wished to go then, but my master told me not to, so I stayed. You said there was no opportunity for me there," Duan Changfeng sighed. "You said then, as you do now, that my chance has come."

"Indeed! As you believed us then, so now you should follow me. I'm telling you—your opportunity has arrived. When you asked me before, I did not answer—not because I couldn't, but because it was your path, yours alone. Even if I saw it, I could not tell you. Changfeng, you had doubts and confusion then, but it was fleeting. I believed you would soon find your resolve and continue forward. Today, would you ask me the same question?"

"Once you meet Wang Chuan, you'll understand—this man is too resolute. His path, he walks unwaveringly. Even if it's wrong, he can set it straight; once he walks it, it becomes right. Without him, he could still blaze a trail. Such a man will one day be rejected by the Way itself—no wonder the demon and beast races seek to destroy him."

"So, this is Wang Chuan," Duan Changfeng mused, intrigued by this legendary figure, his contemporary. "He, with a mortal body, shakes the gods, prompting the Martial Academy to emerge. Has he reached the divine realm? Or will he one day? I believe so. His martial arts touch the divine; I can learn much from him. He may be the first to attain divinity."

Tianxingzi sighed, his voice deep and lingering. "Changfeng, to ask such questions today disappoints me. Perhaps you have never seen a true summit—one that can only be admired from afar, never climbed."

Duan Changfeng started at these words.