At age four he had his First Vision, by age six he could enter Sensation, by eleven he was further at Doubtless, by sixteen he had entered Mysterious Cavern, and within ten years he rose from the bottom of the Mysterious Cavern level to the pinnacle of the Mysterious Cavern level, and with consecutive victories, he defeated everyone underneath the Fateseeker level as an unrivaled number one. No matter how it was looked at, the Tang Dynasty spokesperson declared that w.a.n.g JingLue was a cultivating genius.

But w.a.n.g JingLue was very clear, without having ever met those men and women when they unknowably and occasionally come out, his own reputation as a genius was insubstantial.

Thus he even more hoped that others would say he was a steady, seasoned cultivator, and didn’t want the common people to praise him as a young genius of cultivation. He wanted to have an especially contrasting bearing of a profoundly deep cultivator, so even if he was very young, and his body was also very healthy without any kind of illness, but he would always cough twice occasionally.

But sitting amidst the spring rain dejectedly, he truly coughed, because fear and frustration made him choke on the rainwater. With a pale face he looked at the gradually emerging silhouette of a tall and thin Daoist, and the trembling of his body became even more intense.

Walking out of the alley was a tall and thin old man wearing a dirty Daoist robe. On the robe was an unknowable amount of oil stains and dirt, and the look on his face with triangular eyes twinkled, seemingly with an exceptionally obscene vulgarity, without any appearance on the outside of a skilled person.

“I spent half the day drawing this Daoist rune, what do you think of it?”

The tall and thin Daoist parted the layers of the rain curtain, earnestly asking the collapsed w.a.n.g JingLue in the alley. At his feet, the fat middle-aged man from the Prince’s Mansion had already turned into a corpse, the clothing on his body and even the skin underneath the clothing, was just like layer after layer of paint cracking off for several years bit by bit, appearing exceedingly horrifying.

w.a.n.g JingLue smiled wretchedly, and to that tall and thin Daoist, crestfallen he said, “My Tang Dynasty only has ten and some great Daoist Rune experts. To be willing to wear Daoist robes naturally is one of the Clear Sky Way’s Four Rune Masters.”

“This rune that necessitated no less than this elderly Rune Master to draw for half a day with the street as the base, and with the rainwater as the ink, this rune in the street was naturally terrifying…….only that I don’t understand why Elder didn’t directly kill me.”

That Clear Sky South Gate’s Rune Master slightly frowned, waving his hand in the air he drew one word, driving away that annoying spring rain about his body. Shaking his head he said, “The monk from Yue Lun Kingdom, the swordsman from South Jin, the old man from the military, if these people died then they died, but you are not the same. I was ordered to not let you act, for the sake of protecting you.”

“w.a.n.g JingLue, you at a young age are already standing at the threshold of the Fateseeker realm, truly rare. I have heard the Academy pa.s.s out some information that the State Masters and the Emperor’s younger brother have commented on you before, believing that forty years from now you could reach the layer above the Five Boundaries…….for my Tang Dynasty to produce a young genius isn’t easy, so you must work as hard as possible to improve for forty years!”

w.a.n.g JingLue’s expression changed without stopping.

“You don’t need to return to the Prince’s Mansion, go to the front lines and serve for three years to atone.”

After saying this, the Rune Master turned and walked towards a hidden, dark alley, muttering, “Old Chao of Spring Wind Pavilion, he isn’t some kind of small dog or cat. If he is so good to kill, could it be that tens of years ago I couldn’t have killed him?”    ……    ……

The blue sleeves gently flapped, the thin blue steel flew humming through the falling rain, returning into Chao XiaoShu’s hand.

He turned his head and glanced at Ning Que standing behind him, confirming that besides a little blood on his mouth, the youth hadn’t suffered any kind of serious injury. Nodding his head he put the sword back in the sheath, left that carriage, and walked into the alley towards the street.

Walking to the intersection across from Spring Wind Pavilion, Chao XiaoShu stopped his steps, looking at the spot behind the rain curtain. Ning Que raised his arm to wipe the rain from his forehead, then his gaze looked over. After a very long silence, he asked, “You’re still waiting for someone?”

“Mmh.” Chao XiaoShu put his hand onto the sword hilt, and replied, “A person called w.a.n.g JingLue, but it seems that he won’t come.”

Ning Que frowned, pa.s.sing the blade from his right hand to his left hand, and asked, “Why?”

Chao XiaoShu turned his head and looked at the black mask on Ning Que’s face, and with a slight smile he said, “For my Tang Dynasty to produce a cultivating genius is not easy, perhaps some people don’t want to see him die at our hands.”

“I don’t have your kind of confidence.” Ning Que thought back to tonight’s repeated battles. Thinking of those powerful cultivators, and thought that if he didn’t have Chao XiaoShu in front, he would’ve died long ago. Quickly he said, “If you have that last card to play, why didn’t he come out earlier, and chose to let you fight through death for life?”

“When I arrived at 47th Street, I explained to you before, when that card is suddenly shown, then no one would dare to move in the whole of ChangAn City. Then there would be no way to know to know how many cards those n.o.bles have, as well as their thoughts.”

Chao XiaoShu suddenly opened his mouth and spoke, “Come with me on a stroll?”

Ning Que raised his right arm, using his sleeve to wipe the rain and blood, sticking back the blade into the sheath on his back, and nodded.

The rain was a bit lighter than before, with the pattering trickle falling all around the streets of Spring Wind Pavilion.

Chao XiaoShu’s hand left the sword hilt, folding it behind his back. Strolling on the calm streets, his blue robes were as straight as before, his expression still calm – only that his complexion was paler by several degrees than before the battles. Besides only this, there seemed to be no other changes.

Ning Que followed behind him, walking as he tore clothing to stem the wound on his left arm. Even though that wound was shallow and thin, but for him who came from Min Mountain, he was accustomed to saving every drop of blood or strength.

In the rainy streets, the two of them went around the four directions around Spring Wind Pavilion. The two of them were just like a lion brother and tiger younger brother pair that after going through a b.l.o.o.d.y battle, started to tour their own territory.

Coming back to Chao Mansion’s main entrance, Chao XiaoShu’s expression appeared to be slightly exhausted. He rubbed his eyes, lifting the overlap of his blue robes back and forth, and just like this he sat on the wet stony steps.

Several remnants of the Tang troops loudly yelled and charged over at him.

Ning Que flipped his hand and pulled out the blade from his back, stepping in front he cut down; each flash of the blade would cut down one of his enemies, and each of the Tang soldiers that charged to the the front of the streets fell like lumber one after the other in front of the street. At the same time his lips incessantly chanting he murmured, “One floats in the JiangHu, how could you not suffer from the blade? In one strike I’ll kill you, in two strikes I’ll kill you……..”

Chao XiaoShu sat on the wet stony steps, exhaustingly using his sword to prop his body up. Seeing the scene in front of him, the s.h.i.+ne in his eyes become more and more concentrated. He had long seen through that Ning Que’s blade techniques carried a shadow of the army-type blade techniques,  but exquisitely picking even more directions for opportunities to attack – only through moments of life and death could he realize these principles.

Ning Que’s blade movements were so steady that they were dull, but once in awhile he would use strange swift movements like a raindrop, all along maintaining one principle – and that was to save the most energy when using the blade, but the blade always fell on his opponents’ weakest parts.

“This is truly a man-slaying blade style.”

Chao XiaoShu watched each flash of the blade. Thinking of those scenes during the battle, Ning Que demonstrated ma.s.sive determination as well as excellent judging abilities. Thinking again of his true age, he couldn’t help but to silently lament in his heart, “It’s too bad this little fellow has no way of cultivating, or else in the future of the Tang Empire, inevitably he would hold a very important position.”

Seeing the bodies like rotten wood being soaked by the rain, seeing the youth carrying his plain blade while gasping for breath, Chao XiaoShu lightly smiled and said, “Can’t you be a little more poetic when you kill people? When you kill people it’s like you’re hoeing a field.”

Ning Que turned around, raising his blade covered in blood to his shoulders. He looked at the middle-aged man atop the stony steps, pointed at night rain falling from the sky, and breathlessly he said, “It’s been constantly wet, as for hoeing fields……where could you cut down people and be this tired?”