Chapter Twenty-Two: Punishment

Within the Hall of Cloud Soaring, every gaze was fixed intently upon the center of the grand chamber—not merely at the gathering, but specifically upon the towering three-meter-tall Yimu tree that stood there. This included the sect master, Master Lingxu, seated in the place of honor, as well as the heads of each peak arrayed on either side. Owing to the involvement of Qin Yi and Wang Yuncheng in the affair, even Master Zixuan and Master Huanglong—usually elusive as dragons and rarely seen within Taiyi Mountain—had both made their appearance.

After a brief silence, Master Lingxu was the first to speak, his voice echoing through the hall: “Will someone explain the origins and outcome of this matter?”

“Respected Master, the matter is as follows: Today, Zhang Chen and I went to Nanhua Peak to forage for wild herbs... and due to my particular constitution, I sensed the presence of this Yimu tree.” Qin Yi stepped forward, offered a respectful bow, and recounted the events leading up to the present moment.

Having listened, Master Lingxu’s expression darkened. He turned his gaze to Wang Yuncheng and his three companions. “Are you aware which rule of Taiyi Mountain you have transgressed by attempting to steal the Yimu tree?”

“Taiyi Mountain Rule Thirty-Eight: Any deliberate theft of a Yimu tree warrants immediate expulsion from the sect. Master, for the sake of my family’s honor, I beg your leniency. If punishment is unavoidable, let it fall upon me alone.” Wang Yuncheng recited the rule before kneeling at the center of the hall, joined by He Mengwei and the others.

Wang Yuncheng’s plea was not born of a deep attachment to Taiyi Mountain or his master, Huanglong; rather, he was mindful of the disgrace expulsion would bring upon him when returning to the Wang family of Eastern Ridge. How would the cultivators of Lingzhou view them then? Among the three sons of the great families of the South Sea, perhaps only Chen Wenxiang was indifferent to such concerns. It seemed likely Qian Fu and He Mengwei shared Wang Yuncheng’s sentiments—their pilgrimage to Taiyi Mountain having been undertaken solely on his behalf.

Seeing his only disciple kneeling there, Master Huanglong, who had been squinting in silence, finally spoke up. “Lingxu, I believe this was entirely my disciple’s misguided idea. The other three should not be blamed.”

From his seat, Chen Yuxuan nodded his agreement. “Indeed, Senior Brother Master, I know Wenxiang’s temperament well—since arriving at Taiyi Mountain, he has devoted himself solely to the Way of the Sword.”

Li Ding joined in, adding, “Master, though Qian Fu may seem greedy at times, his heart is not wicked.”

Only Gu Beishan, though he favored He Mengwei, refrained from pleading. In his eyes, a man whose loyalties shifted easily for another was not suited to follow his path.

Master Lingxu pondered in silence, his thoughts hidden. He had no intention of expelling any of the four, especially not Wang Yuncheng, the instigator. Clearly, Wang Yuncheng had spoken as he did to spare his companions, and Master Huanglong’s intervention served only to reinforce that aim.

At last, after a long deliberation, Master Lingxu spoke: “On account of your uncles and fellow disciples, I will spare you this once. You are each to be confined for a year, but let this not happen again. Should you reoffend, the rules shall be enforced without mercy.”

“Thank you for your leniency, Master,” the four replied in unison, bowing deeply.

“Get up, no need to kneel any longer,” Master Huanglong instructed.

Qin Yi found the punishment unsurprising; indeed, he had never intended to see Wang Yuncheng and his friends cast out. He had no desire to quarrel with these young men over trifles. His only concern was for Taiyi Mountain’s limited supply of Yimu trees—already few in number, and even fewer that had grown to towering heights—while tens of thousands of cultivators trained here daily.

Zhang Chen, however, could not help but feel disappointed. He had always disliked Wang Yuncheng’s arrogance and self-proclaimed status as a favored son of heaven; the fewer such people, the better. Yet, since the sect master had spoken, he could only accept it; any protest would be futile.

Master Lingxu rose slowly. “Since the matter is settled, let everyone return to their own affairs.”

As the various peak masters heard these words, they led their disciples out in turn. Qingfuzi was the first to hurry down from his seat to Zhang Chen’s side, asking anxiously, “Disciple, I heard you fought with Wang Yuncheng. Are you hurt? How did it go?”

“Master, I’m fine, no need to worry. As for the result—even if I lost, I’d never disgrace you. In truth, it was a draw.” Zhang Chen shook his head with a wry smile. Though he spoke confidently, he knew Wang Yuncheng still held the advantage. Were it not for the intricacies of the art of talismans and his use of runes to restrain Wang Yuncheng, he would not have lasted long. After all, Wang Yuncheng’s talent was superior, and he trained in both the Taiyi Azure Profound Path and the Wang family’s supreme art, the Great Luo Sutra.

Meanwhile, Master Zixuan approached Qin Yi, prepared to take him back to Cloud Soaring Island. He had no concerns for Qin Yi’s cultivation, believing firmly in his strength even if it was not yet apparent.

“Let’s go,” Master Zixuan said with a smile.

“Yes, Master.” Qin Yi replied, wishing to exchange a few words with Jiang Yao, but noticing Xue Songmei approaching her, he offered an awkward smile and quickly followed after Master Zixuan.

Seeing Qin Yi leave, Zhang Chen hurried after him, calling out, “Qin Yi, let’s return to Fish-Dragon Fort tomorrow. It’s been four years since we came here, and we’ve never gone back. Besides, the New Year’s Eve is approaching.”

“Alright, see you at the mountain gate tomorrow morning,” Qin Yi replied, waving without turning back. Then, as if recalling something, he turned and called out to Jiang Yao, “Jiang Yao, would you like to come home with me?”

Jiang Yao, who had been about to depart, blushed at his words. Yet, with her master present, she only shouted from a distance, “Lecher! Take care or I’ll run you through with my sword!”

Xue Songmei glared at him from afar, her gaze sharp as blades.

Qin Yi offered a sheepish grin to both master and disciple, then hurried after Master Zixuan.

Watching the playful banter, Zhang Chen felt a pang of envy. When, he wondered, would he find a partner as ethereal and enchanting as Jiang Yao?

...

As dusk settled, within a small pavilion on Nanhua Peak, Gu Beishan stood gazing at He Mengwei, who knelt before him. His tone was harsh. “If this is truly your disposition, then you are not suited for my path.”

“Master, please grant your disciple one more chance at redemption,” He Mengwei pleaded, kneeling even more earnestly.

“I only hope you can recognize your faults and change,” Gu Beishan said simply, leaving behind only these words as he departed.

Long after his master had gone, He Mengwei finally rose, staring in silence at the evergreen forest beyond the pavilion.

...

In a secluded courtyard on Qingxu Peak, Master Huanglong stood beneath a tree, his back to Wang Yuncheng. At length, he spoke: “I know you did not truly wish to take me as your master. All I can teach you is the Taiyi Azure Profound Path. Yet, I believe we have something in common—as do that master and disciple from Cloud Soaring Island.”

Wang Yuncheng, having waited a long while, had not expected his master to say such a thing. Looking up, he met his master’s gaze.

The two stood for a while, exchanging silent smiles, but spoke no further.

...

At dawn and dusk, Taiyi Mountain was shrouded in a unique, dreamlike haze. At this hour, Sword Cliff Peak’s great precipice stood clear, the depths of the chasm visible.

Chen Yuxuan gazed into the abyss, breathing deeply. “Wenxiang, I am deeply disappointed in you for what you have done.”

Chen Wenxiang immediately fell to his knees. “Uncle, I know I was wrong.”

“Oh? And do you know in what way?” Chen Yuxuan asked, feigning surprise.

Chen Wenxiang replied slowly, “Uncle does not wish to see me yield to Wang Yuncheng, or... to the Wang family of Eastern Ridge.”

At the mention of the Wang family, Chen Yuxuan’s eyes flashed sharply. “A promising youth. Remember this: though our Chen family is weaker than the Wang family, we shall never bow to them. Like the sword in your hand, the path of the sword must be unstoppable.”

A sudden clarity dawned on Chen Wenxiang, and he smiled. “You are absolutely right, Uncle. I will remember this well.”

“Good, you may go now,” Chen Yuxuan said with a wave.

“Wang family of Eastern Ridge, how intolerable you are,” he muttered coldly after Chen Wenxiang had gone. With a flick of his finger, a fierce sword wind rose around him, sword qi swirling madly. Staring into the bottomless chasm, he pointed, sending the sword qi hurtling downward.

From that day forth, another deep sword scar marked the face of Sword Cliff.