The day after Jiang Zhaoxia and the Thirteen Sword Fiends returned, they went down the mountain again. The other disciples couldn't help whispering in curiosity—and envy. It was clear how much the sect valued the Thirteen Sword Fiends.
Li Qingqiu trusted Jiang Zhaoxia completely. At fifth layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm, he was already strong enough to handle most matters on his own, so Li Qingqiu wasn't worried about their mission.
Once they left, Li Qingqiu turned his focus inward. It was time for him to break through to the sixth layer of Nurturing Essence.
Autumn faded into winter. This year, the snow came later than usual.
In the quiet forest, Qin Ye swung his iron staff at Li Qingqiu with fierce momentum. His strikes were sharp, heavy, and carried immense force—each swing so powerful that the falling snow around him melted, turning into a swirling mist that wrapped around his body like a white halo.
Li Qingqiu met his attacks with two fingers. The vital energy gathered in his fingertips made them harder than Qin Ye's iron staff itself.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The crisp sounds echoed like temple bells as every strike was blocked effortlessly. Qin Ye didn't grow frustrated—instead, his excitement only grew.
As his understanding of the Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff deepened, he had become reluctant to spar with other disciples. The power of that technique was overwhelming, and he feared accidentally hurting someone. Because of that, he hadn't truly grasped how far he'd come.
Today, finally sparring with his master, he was nervous at first—but when he saw Li Qingqiu easily catch every strike, without even taking a step back, a mix of awe and admiration surged in his chest. Even when he used all his strength, he couldn't shake his master's composure in the slightest.
Li Qingqiu studied the excited Qin Ye with quiet satisfaction. Though Qin Ye was still only at first layer of Nurturing Essence, his martial growth was astonishing.
The Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff wasn't just a combat technique—it tempered the body through the resonance of heavenly qi, allowing Qin Ye to be refined by nature itself with every swing.
In a sense, this technique was close to the path of cultivation—it was more than mortal martial arts.
Li Qingqiu even suspected the technique was incomplete, perhaps a broken remnant of a true immortal method, much like the Art of Sword Control.
Though he hadn't moved from his spot, the snow beneath his feet had melted completely, revealing the green grass below.
Just then, Qin Ye suddenly withdrew his staff, glancing behind Li Qingqiu. "Master," he said softly, "someone's coming."
Li Qingqiu turned. In the distance, three men were walking toward them.
The one in front wore a heavy black fur robe and a cloth cap. Behind him were two men dressed in straw raincoats and wide-brimmed hats. One glance was enough to tell they weren't ordinary folk.
Li Qingqiu had already heard their footsteps long before Qin Ye noticed. His hearing far surpassed normal men's. He hadn't avoided them, though—this was Qingxiao Sect's territory. As its master, why should he hide from strangers?
Besides, as Qingxiao Sect's fame grew, visitors came more frequently. Strangers showing up on the mountain was no longer unusual.
When the group approached, the man in front's eyes brightened. "Excuse me, are you disciples of Qingxiao Sect?" he called out.
Li Qingqiu glanced at Qin Ye, who immediately caught the signal and stepped forward. "That's right," he said loudly. "And who might you be?"
The man cupped his hands politely. "I am Yan Lan. I've long admired Qingxiao Sect's righteous deeds. I came to pay my respects and seek a meeting. Could you two show me the way up?"
"You can go up yourself," Qin Ye replied bluntly. "Just follow this path straight ahead—you'll reach the sect."
He frowned slightly. What kind of person asks others to lead the way when the road's right there?
Yan Lan smiled, then quickened his pace, his two companions following closely behind.
As he drew near, his appearance came into view—handsome, with a warm, sunlit smile that made him seem approachable.
"You were practicing martial arts just now, weren't you? Young man, that staff of yours looks heavy," Yan Lan said with interest.
Qin Ye nodded. "It weighs thirty jin."
"Really? Mind if I try?"
"Go ahead."
With Li Qingqiu nearby, Qin Ye didn't worry about any tricks and handed the staff over.
Yan Lan took it—and immediately staggered, the tip of the staff sinking into the ground. His expression shifted in surprise. "It really is thirty jin?"
He gritted his teeth and lifted it. Though he managed to raise it chest-high, his face flushed red from the effort.
Qin Ye blinked. "Come on, it's not that heavy. It's only thirty jin, not three hundred."
Yan Lan set the staff back down and smiled helplessly. "I've always been weak. Tried all kinds of remedies, but nothing works. You'll have to forgive me for the poor display."
Li Qingqiu studied him quietly. "If your body's weak," he said, "why climb the mountain? From here to Qingxiao Sect's main gate is still an hour and a half of walking."
It was clear to him that Yan Lan's qi and blood were frail—but the two men behind him were anything but ordinary.
Their presence was steady and powerful—comparable to Su Xiling's, perhaps even stronger. They were both far beyond typical top-tier experts.
Such masters wouldn't serve as attendants for just anyone, Li Qingqiu thought. If this man's surname is Yan… could he be from the royal family?
He kept that thought to himself, showing no hint of suspicion on his face.
Yan Lan smiled faintly, meeting Li Qingqiu's gaze. "Exactly because I'm weak," he said, "I know I don't have many years left. So I wanted to see more of the world before I die. That way, even if I go, I'll have no regrets. I've been here. I've seen it. That's enough."
His words were calm, even cheerful—but they carried a deep melancholy that made Qin Ye's heart tremble.
He was a martial artist; he couldn't truly understand such resignation. But hearing those words, even he felt an ache in his chest.
Li Qingqiu nodded with quiet admiration. "Good. To be able to see through life and death like that—perhaps you'll live longer than most."
"I wouldn't dare dream of it. Are you two going to continue practicing? May I sit nearby and watch for a while? I could use the rest," Yan Lan asked curiously.
Qin Ye frowned. "By your own words, you've traveled across the land. Don't you know the rules of the martial world?"
Yan Lan chuckled, pulling a small book from his chest. "I won't watch for free. Take this Demon-Seizing Technique as my gift. How about that?"
"Demon-Seizing Technique? Is it powerful?" Qin Ye asked suspiciously, thinking the man was teasing him.
When Li Qingqiu saw the title Demon-Seizing Technique on the cover, his suspicions deepened. He was now certain Yan Lan had royal blood. This was the very technique Jia Yi had once flaunted as his greatest treasure—yet here it was, handed out so casually.
How ironic.
A single manual of Demon-Seizing Technique had once made Jia Yi's clan rise again, lifting him to power and influence. And he hadn't even been a commoner. Yet in the hands of a prince, such a peerless martial art was nothing more than a trinket.
Indeed, the gap between classes was like a chasm, unbridgeable across any world.
"Of course it's powerful," Yan Lan said with a smile. "It's one of the great divine techniques of the martial world. I came across it by chance and tried to practice it, but alas, I have no talent for martial arts. When I saw you, I felt a sense of fate. So, take it."
With that, he tossed the manual directly to Qin Ye.
Qin Ye caught it, looking troubled. He turned to Li Qingqiu for guidance.
Li Qingqiu smiled faintly. "If someone wishes to befriend you, why not accept it?"
Qin Ye nodded, cupping his fists toward Yan Lan. "Thank you, sir."
Yan Lan waved it off and walked aside to sit on a flat rock. The two men in straw raincoats followed closely, silent as shadows.
"Continue your training," Li Qingqiu said. "I'll rest a bit."
He walked off to another tree, sat cross-legged beneath it, and took a sip from his wine gourd.
Qin Ye glanced around, hesitated, then began to practice the Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff.
Wu Baoyu had once told him to use this staff technique to serve the dynasty. That meant this art wasn't unique to him—perhaps the version he had learned was different from what Wu Baoyu had used when he assassinated the emperor. Otherwise, how could he have served the throne without being accused of treason for learning the same martial art?
Clearly, Wu Baoyu had thought of that.
Li Qingqiu had also warned him that if anyone asked, he should say an old hermit had taught it to him, someone whose name he didn't know.
Stories like that were common in the martial world.
Qin Ye already liked Yan Lan. The man's attitude was sincere and open, so Qin Ye didn't hold back.
As he began, his entire aura changed. Fierce energy surged around him, his killing intent sharp as a blade.
"Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff!"
He had only executed seven moves when one of the straw-coated men behind Yan Lan muttered softly, "Demon-Subduing Staff."
Yan Lan's expression didn't change. He watched Qin Ye with an appreciative smile, while the other guard's cold gaze remained unmoved—unimpressed.
Li Qingqiu didn't stop Qin Ye. He wanted to gamble on his disciple's fate. These three weren't here for trouble, and Yan Lan's frail condition wasn't fake.
But if things turned violent… Li Qingqiu wouldn't hesitate to use the Soul-Binding Curse again—just for practice.
When Qin Ye finished the full form, he turned toward Yan Lan, panting slightly. "So," he asked, "how does my Demon-Subduing Staff compare to your Demon-Seizing Technique?"
Yan Lan chuckled. "The Demon-Subduing Staff easily matches the Demon-Seizing Technique. In truth, when the two are used together, their power multiplies. What a coincidence—who would have thought I'd meet the inheritor of the Demon-Subduing Staff here? I've gifted out seven copies of the Demon-Seizing Technique, yet today fate brings the arts of 'subduing' and 'capturing' demons together."
"You recognize my staff art?" Qin Ye asked, startled.
Yan Lan nodded. "The Ten Thousand Armies Demon-Subduing Staff was the peerless martial art of Great General Lu Chenhai, who conquered the lands under Heaven for the Great Li Dynasty. The world never knew its name, but this very technique helped found our empire. The general never passed it to his descendants. He sought a worthy heir instead.
"The founding emperor once promised him—anyone who truly mastered the Demon-Subduing Staff, regardless of background, would be granted a general's rank. Later, Lu Chenhai resigned and disappeared into the martial world. That was thirty years ago. No one knows if he's still alive."
He smiled faintly. "Young man, if you wish to join the army, I can introduce you."
Qin Ye froze. In that instant, he finally understood why Wu Baoyu had chosen to pass him this staff art—he had been paving a path for him all along.
He looked at Yan Lan again, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Who… are you, really?"
Before Yan Lan could answer, one of the straw-coated men spoke coldly. "My lord is His Highness, the Crown Prince. Kneel and show your respect."
Crown Prince!
Qin Ye stiffened. Shock swept through him—but not awe. Instead, fury flared within.
The son of that dog emperor!
For a moment, his face twisted with rage. But he quickly caught himself. He couldn't afford to offend the heir apparent.
"Impudent! How dare you show killing intent toward His Highness!"
The other guard shouted, his voice like thunder. He darted around Yan Lan, moving with inhuman speed. His afterimages streaked across the snow like ghostly shadows.
Qin Ye barely managed to raise his staff. His eyes couldn't even track the man's movements.
Boom!
A heavy impact thundered through the clearing. The straw-coated man was sent sliding backward, gouging two long trails in the snow—each several meters deep.
The second guard instantly drew his sword, his eyes narrowing at the figure now standing beside Qin Ye.
Li Qingqiu stood there, robes fluttering in the cold wind, unmoving as a mountain.
"Ku Yi, Ku Er," Yan Lan said sharply, his voice colder than before, "enough. Do not be rude."
His earlier warmth was gone. Now his presence carried an undeniable weight—the natural authority of a prince.
The first guard, Ku Yi, straightened slowly. He lowered his head, staring at his trembling right hand, shock filling his eyes.
When he looked again at Li Qingqiu, all that remained in his gaze was fear.