Chapter 235: Rebellious Order

Luoshen Peak witnessed a sunrise.

In their backlit silhouettes, Ning Changjiu crouched slightly. Zhao Xiang'er gently lay on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Ning Changjiu supported her thighs as he carried her, and neither of them spoke as they descended the mountain path in silence.

"Where to next?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Traversing the mountain paths, a mix of withered and verdant hues, Ning Changjiu looked out at the vast wilderness. At the foot of the mountain, the vegetation was covered in dew, quickly dampening their clothes.

Light filtered indistinctly through the tree branches into her eyes. Zhao Xiang'er, half-opening her eyes, softly said, "Anywhere is fine."

As she spoke, she picked a leaf, wrote something on it with her fingertip, then with a gentle blow, the leaf floated up, spinning as it flew towards the direction of Zhao State.

From then on, Zhao Xiang'er seemed completely settled.

She lay on Ning Changjiu's back, her eyes closed, utterly silent.

Her hair fell onto his neck, causing a slight tickle. Ning Changjiu's nostrils flared subtly; he couldn't tell if the scent in the air was the fresh aroma of grass and trees or the fragrance of the young girl.

"Anywhere is fine?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"The farther the better?"

"Mm-hmm."

She said the farther the better, but where could they go? Even with their Purple Court Realm cultivation, crossing Nanzhou by sword would still take a whole month.

And this was still one of the smallest continents in the world.

Ultimately, they did not leave Zhao State.

In the afternoon, in a small border town, a bleak wind blew several times, and then the autumn rain suddenly began to fall.

Zhao Xiang'er rested one hand on his neck and held up a red umbrella with the other, sheltering them overhead and warding off the late autumn drizzle.

She looked at the falling curtain of rain, gazing forward as she said, "This is truly boring."

They had traveled through many cities and towns; though the scenery varied, it was merely pleasant to the eye, not captivating to the heart.

"Then what is interesting?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Zhao Xiang'er gently twirled the umbrella handle, shaking off the raindrops one by one.

"Did you ever listen to storytellers when you were little?" Zhao Xiang'er asked.

"No," Ning Changjiu replied.

Zhao Xiang'er sighed. "You must have read some tales of chivalry, right?"

"I've read a few," Ning Changjiu said. In his leisure time during his cultivation in the past, he would imagine the world below the mountains through those books.

Zhao Xiang'er was lost in thought. "When I was little, these stories were told to me by the older and younger sisters in the palace. After hearing them, I'd be so happy, running all over the mountains with a stick, looking for caves, hoping to find some kind of lucky encounter."

Ning Changjiu laughed. "So you used to be like that too?"

Zhao Xiang'er pinched his ear, frowning annoyedly. "Don't laugh."

Ning Changjiu repeatedly begged for mercy.

Zhao Xiang'er stretched her hand into the rain and said, "Let's leave some stories in Nanzhou. Even if we're gone someday, there will still be traces of us."

"You've already left many stories in Nanzhou," Ning Changjiu said gently.

Zhao Xiang'er shook her head, stubbornly saying, "Those are stories Mother wrote, not mine."

Ning Changjiu listened to her words and nodded slightly. "So, what do you want to do?"

This was the first of six days. Ning Changjiu and Zhao Xiang'er returned to Yunshang City, where they each bought a dashing black outfit and became highway bandits.

As highway bandits, they naturally had to steal the most valuable things.

The two inquired for a long time until they heard that a rare treasure was enshrined in Guangpo Temple in Rong State. So they planned their route. After nightfall, they secretly infiltrated Rong State, and according to their original plan, one would distract the temple staff while the other would steal the treasure.

To make this grand heist more realistic and thrilling, they even suppressed their cultivation to the Xuan Entry Realm, the level of an ordinary martial arts master.

Everything proceeded smoothly. Gongs clanged, accompanied by the flare of torches. Ning Changjiu, with his boisterous distraction, drew away the temple staff, expertly evading his pursuers.

Zhao Xiang'er was responsible for stealing the treasure. She used a hand chop to knock out two guarding sentries, then slipped into the deepest part of Guangpo Temple.

In the depths, there was a faint light. An old woman sat there, facing a lamp, chanting scriptures.

Zhao Xiang'er slowly approached her from behind.

The candlelight flickered.

"This is a treasure left by a god," the old woman said. "Years ago, the god told me a young girl would come to take it. I thought I wouldn't live long enough to see it..." The old woman was so old she could barely open her eyes, but she had heard the commotion outside.

Zhao Xiang'er's breath hitched. She saw the treasure clearly.

It was a small stone statue of a deity. The statue was faceless, and looked like a goddess from a fresco. Its flowing robes were carved so delicately, it seemed entirely unlike stone.

"How long have you guarded it?" Zhao Xiang'er asked, crouching down to look at the old woman by the candlelight.

The old woman replied, "Seventy whole years."

Zhao Xiang'er asked again, "Did you ever see the god who left it?"

The old woman lowered her head and said nothing more.

The ever-burning candle in front of her slowly dimmed and went out.

In the autumn rain, the young girl in black attire emerged from the ancient temple. Ning Changjiu went to meet her. He looked at the faceless statue cradled in her arms, and praised with a smile, "Xiang'er, my lady knight, you're truly amazing! You move as easily as if on flat ground, no matter where you go."

But Zhao Xiang'er couldn't feel happy at all. She tossed the statue to Ning Changjiu, saying, "It's your reward."

Ning Changjiu looked at the faceless statue and frowned.

Zhao Xiang'er held her umbrella, listening to the sounds of pursuit behind them, and said, "I don't want to be a thief anymore. It's boring."

"Then how about we become great heroes together?" Ning Changjiu suggested.

Zhao Xiang'er nodded. "Okay. From now on, you must call me Aunt."

"Huh?" Ning Changjiu asked, perplexed.

Zhao Xiang'er handed him the umbrella. "Just call me what I tell you to call me!"

The pitch-black Jiuyu broke through the autumn rain, merging with the night sky.

Soon after, legends of chivalrous companions riding a great black eagle began to circulate in the martial world.

They killed many notorious villains in the martial world. These villains, who had long earned their fierce reputations for committing every imaginable evil, from bullying men to oppressing women, seemed to be waiting, as if offering their necks for the slaughter.

This "chivalrous companions" plan stopped on the third day.

It concerned a great villain from Jin State, who resided in Thousand Buddha Mountain, known as Hundred-Face Ghost.

He had once killed Master Guangci, the most revered Zen master in Zhao State at the time. After killing Master Guangci, he committed several other major crimes, then vanished into Jin State's Thousand Buddha Mountain and never reappeared.

No heroes who sought to enter Thousand Buddha Mountain to uphold justice and champion the weak ever returned.

Ning Changjiu and Zhao Xiang'er arrived at the mountain, riding the Divine Sparrow Jiuyu.

Hundred-Face Ghost was far from the terrifying villain of legend. When they saw him, he was sitting on a prayer mat in a stone grotto temple, chanting scriptures before a dilapidated ancient Buddha statue. He seemed to be contemplating a Zen enlightenment that had eluded him his entire life.

Zhao Xiang'er closed her umbrella under the eaves and walked into the stone grotto temple.

The temple smelled damp and moldy. The face of the dilapidated ancient Buddha was covered by a hanging cloth curtain. Several small, shackled demons sat at either end, chanting Buddhist scriptures painfully, as if their mouths held burning hot iron blocks.

Hundred-Face Ghost was emaciated, and his monk's robes were tattered. He heard footsteps behind him and slowly turned his head.

Ning Changjiu looked at his face. It was an ordinary face. He saw no evil on it, but rather a profound pity, though this pity was as hollow as a tomb.

"I've come to kill you," Zhao Xiang'er said, drawing her sword from within her umbrella and stating her purpose.

Hundred-Face Ghost showed no surprise. His voice was slow, carrying an inexplicable sense of release. "I know... Someone told me years ago that a girl carrying a divine statue would come to kill me."

Ning Changjiu was indeed holding the statue they had stolen from Guangpo Temple. He exchanged a glance with Zhao Xiang'er.

"Who told you?" Zhao Xiang'er asked with a frown.

Hundred-Face Ghost let out two dry laughs and said, "I don't remember, I only remember that person telling me my killer would possess the purest fire in the world, capable of burning away my sins."

Zhao Xiang'er's hand, gripping her sword, lowered slightly.

She looked at Hundred-Face Ghost, returning her sword to its sheath. She said, "No one can atone for your sins."

"Indeed. I have committed countless evils; being cut into a thousand pieces would not be enough punishment. What fire could possibly burn away my sins..."

Zhao Xiang'er said nothing, her expression grim.

She only wanted to leave behind stories that belonged uniquely to them before she left, but she didn't want these deeds to also bear her mother's imprint.

But he was right. He had committed countless evils and taken innumerable lives; he certainly deserved to die.

Yet, killing him would mean once again submitting to her mother's arrangements. Not killing him, however, would go against her own will.

Zhao Xiang'er held her umbrella, her thoughts tangled.

The old monk turned his head and said, "You are here to kill Hundred-Face Ghost?"

"Yes," Ning Changjiu replied.

"Let me tell you a story," the old monk said.

"We'd be glad to hear it," Ning Changjiu said.

The old monk began his story.

"Once, there was a wealthy family. They broke the legs of a gluttonous and lazy servant and cast him out. Later, that servant, by some twist of fate, occupied a mountain stronghold and became a bandit. He wasn't much of a threat at first. Then, one stormy night, the family's gates were forced open. A group of armed men stormed in and massacred everyone. Women, children, and the elderly all died by the sword; blood flowed freely, splattering the walls."

As the old monk's voice resonated, the autumn rain outside intensified. The drumming rain seemed to cut off the world.

The old monk continued, "In a single night, the entire family was wiped out. Only one child crawled out of the pile of corpses. That child later gained some minor immortal fortune and killed the servant. But after killing the servant, he discovered that the events of that year were not as simple as mere revenge. Too many people were involved, too many to kill, too many to finish off."

Ning Changjiu listened intently. "But you eventually killed them all," he said.

The old monk's words became increasingly sluggish. "It was Hundred-