"Is it truly just for the Daoist scriptures?" Lord Changping gazed at Li Haimo, his voice a faint murmur.
"I'm no instigator. I never descend the mountain, nor do I relish the thought. Though I lead the Human Sect, my temperament aligns more with the Heavenly Sect's ways. Yet from our sect leader down to the elders, some have perished, others withdrawn into seclusion. Do you truly believe the Daoists' blades have dulled? You should never have stepped forward to lead this folly," Li Haimo replied.
"My thanks to Protector Star Soul for your assistance." Li Haimo stepped aside, yielding to Star Soul.
Star Soul offered a Daoist salute, instructing Lord Changping to grasp the Ling Xu Sword and partially unsheathe it. He then placed his right hand above Changping's crown, a violet vital energy seeping slowly into the lord's body. The Ling Xu hummed in defiance, resisting the heart-control art's pull.
"It is ready." After the span of a cup of tea, Star Soul announced. Lord Changping's eyes glazed over, his mind adrift in void.
"Who are you?"
"Qin's Chief Minister, Lord Changping."
"What is your relation to the King of Qin?"
"He is my cousin by blood."
Li Haimo posed a few simple queries, ensuring all present grasped Changping's entranced state.
"When did you first make contact with Human Sect Elder Jing Yun Zi?" Li Haimo inquired.
"Eleven years ago."
"How did you establish that contact?"
"Through the Cai Wei Sword. I had one of my retainers deliver it to her."
"What was your first task for her? And what intelligence did you gain?"
"To pilfer the inner secrets of the Heavenly and Human Sects. We learned that the Human Sect's young junior uncle had begun cultivating the Daoist Scripture."
"What did you do when Jing Yun Zi refused your commands?"
"We slew her kin and dispatched their heads to a place she could not miss."
"What Daoist arts have you stolen?"
"The Human Sect's mountain-gate swordsmanship, the first three layers of the Ping Xu Yu Feng heart method, the first three layers of the Meng Die Zhi Dun heart method, the Shang Shan Ruo Shui foundational outline—lacking its full heart method..."
Li Haimo froze in shock. Too many—far more than Jing Yun Zi had confessed. If she'd lied, there'd have been no need for such theatrics. Clearly, Changping's spies lingered within the Daoist ranks.
"Aside from Jing Yun Zi, who else do you have in the Daoist school?" Li Haimo pressed, simultaneously invoking Tian Di Shi Se to ward off any sudden strikes.
"Heavenly Sect Elder Chu Yun Zi!" Lord Changping answered.
"Seize Chu Yun Zi!" Li Haimo wheeled toward Chi Song Zi.
Chu Yun Zi never imagined Changping would betray him so swiftly; in an instant, Xiao Meng's blade pinned him in place.
"How did you turn Chu Yun Zi to your side?"
"He sought our backing to claim the Heavenly Sect leadership. From his initiation onward, my Changping household supplied all he needed for cultivation, elevating him to elder."
"Time's up," Star Soul interjected. To press further would harm the subject.
Li Haimo nodded, reclaiming the Ling Xu Sword. Xiao Meng dragged the bound Chu Yun Zi to the terrace's center, now at Li Haimo's side. He offered her a gentle smile.
Moments later, Lord Changping stirred, his eyes refocusing. Spotting Chu Yun Zi restrained at the fore, his face drained to ashen pallor. He knew salvation lay beyond reach.
"Surrender the stolen scriptures, and I'll grant you a dignified end. Otherwise—behold this sword's fate!" Li Haimo returned to his seat with Xiao Meng, drawing Ling Xu in a fluid arc. A flash of sword light streaked forth; with a crisp ding, it sheared through the Cai Wei blade—one of the Classic of Poetry's Three Hundred Swords—standing sentinel at the terrace's heart. The severed remnant clattered to the stone.
"With this self-vindication at the Daoist Guan Miao Terrace concluded, the Heavenly Mandate of Heaven and Man executes at once. Have the envoys any objections?" Li Haimo rose, offering a Daoist salute to the Seven States' representatives.
"We have none," the envoys exchanged glances and chorused.
"Lord Changping is, after all, our realm's Chief Minister—and bears the blood of Chu's royal line. We beseech the Daoists to remit him into the joint custody of Qin and Chu for disposition," the Qin envoy ventured.
"Upon his handover of the pilfered Daoist scriptures, we shall escort him personally to Qin's Court of Judicial Review for the tribunal's judgment," Li Haimo stated.
"Qin extends its deepest gratitude to Grandmaster Wu Chen Zi!" The Qin envoy bowed in return.
"The Chu royal house thanks Grandmaster Wu Chen Zi." The Chu envoy stepped forward with a salute.
"And the Hundred Schools—any dissent?" Li Haimo turned to the assembled luminaries.
"Our Yin-Yang Clan requests joint enforcement of the Mandate, to forestall any further leakage of Daoist scriptures," Chu Nangong declared.
"The Mohists offer our swordsmen in aid!" Six-Fingered Black Xia added. It was fitting for the Mohists to intercede; rooted in chivalric righteousness, they feared the Daoists and Yin-Yang might spill innocent blood unchecked.
"We have no objections," Yan Lu of the Confucians replied, echoed by the others.
"Lord Changping, stray not further into ruin," Li Haimo urged.
"In truth, it's all for the King of Qin, isn't it?" Changping murmured, eyes fixed on Li Haimo. He understood now: the Daoists had chosen the boy-king, and he was the sacrificial tribute. For mere stolen texts, a word from the Daoists would have sufficed—he'd have returned them and surrendered all culprits for judgment. A hero's severing of the wrist: he could manage it, and the Daoists would trust his resolve. Yet they'd unleashed the Heavenly Mandate. Only now did he grasp his underestimation—of the Hundred Schools, of young Ying Zheng.
"You err. This world's throne, be it whose, concerns the Daoists not. But chaos has gripped the realm too long. We shun the descent, yet forces compel us downward," Li Haimo countered.
"Then why not Chu?" Changping probed.
"Chu lacks the might to pacify All-Under-Heaven."
"And Qin? Can the young lord Zheng?" Changping pressed.
"At least among the feudal lords, the King of Qin draws nearest—and suits best."
"Unification: what boon for your Daoist school? In the end, you'll stand as thorns in the emperor's gaze," Changping observed.
"And so we are—the Daoists," Li Haimo replied gravely, meeting his stare.
Lord Changping laughed then—a raw, unrestrained peal. He laughed at his own pathos, at the Daoists' folly. Most bitterly, at his birth: no choices afforded. As Chu royalty's scion, he'd risen as Qin's minister, bolstering the realm even as he schemed its sabotage. He'd foreseen his death—at Chu nobles' hands or beneath Qin's iron hooves—but never at the Hundred Schools' unregarded whim.
In his grasp: the Three Hundred Sword Elites of the Classic of Poetry, the Farmers' vast networks, chips beyond count. Yet a single Daoist Mandate scattered them to smoke. And the charge against him? The realm's myriad souls.
Better to wound their own foundations than let disunity fester—gaining naught in return. He realized he'd never fathomed the Hundred Schools, least of all this school of non-action, selflessness, desire's void.
The Heavenly Mandate commenced. Under Daoist-Yin-Yang alliance, Changping yielded the scriptures with startling candor; the Daoists consigned them to flames. Then, with Mohist oversight, they purged all who'd touched or trained the arts.
Escorted to Qin's Court of Judicial Review, Lord Changping faced execution by the tribunal and Chu's royal kin alike. They granted him dignity in the end: a cup of poisoned wine, and he slipped from the mortal coil.
"The Three Hundred Sword Elites of the Classic of Poetry—vanished?" Li Haimo asked.
"Indeed. Someone spirited away their intelligence beforehand. Even the Mohists trace nothing," Xiao Yao Zi confirmed.
Li Haimo nodded. In parting, he'd visited Changping one final time. The lord had met him with a smile, whispering: the Azure Dragon Scheme endures—merely a new hand at the helm. The sword elites? Now theirs.
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