The tranquil wind began to roar, to howl, like a host of tigers bellowing in fury. Under such tremendous force, the ground trembled as if the earth dragon were turning over. Jiang Yiguang’s stance was incredibly stable. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans rolled down her forehead, slipping past her brow and into her eyes. She had no time to wipe them away. Gripping her sword like a swift wind riding the waves, she cleaved through the Shikigami blocking her path.
Xu Heng had cultivated far longer. He still seemed to have the strength to summon another Shikigami, but Jiang Yiguang’s stamina was draining rapidly. She might collapse from exhaustion before even reaching him. Jiang Yiguang quickly assessed the situation. The runes etched on her Ritual Sword flickered. She lightly brushed the blade, once more sensing the flow of energy between heaven and earth.
What is wind?
It is the stream of Qi, like the galloping of wild horses, the motes of dust, the breath of living things blowing upon one another! The howling and roaring of the wind gradually subsided. In that instant, the world’s winds seemed to freeze. This late spring night became oppressively stagnant, unbearably heavy.
Sweat soaked her back, her thin clothes clinging like a waterlogged bucket.
Jiang Yiguang no longer looked at the new Shikigami Xu Heng had summoned. She extended her left hand, grasping forward as Qi flowed between her five fingers. She moved with her sword, a single point of light blooming on the blade, slashing toward the new Shikigami. Her footwork shifted, and in the blink of an eye, she had slipped past the colossal shadow that loomed over the courtyard, brushing past the Shikigami. Her sword left a single line of wound on its arm, but she didn’t press the attack. Instead, she raised her blade and struck at the pentagram array itself! A powerful recoil jolted through her, making her Ritual Sword hum violently. Her palms went numb; she could barely hold her weapon. Gritting her teeth, she channeled her sword qi and forcibly broke through the conflicting energies of the Five Elements within the pentagram.
The Shikigami behind her whirled around, seizing the massive opening she’d left while attacking the array. It raised a sharp, gleaming axe, poised to strike down. In that split second, a Five Thunder Spell crashed down, followed by rolling, searing flames. The Shikigami’s movement halted abruptly. Seizing that instant, Jiang Yiguang spun and delivered a vicious kick to the creature. Despite lacking any divine power enhancement, her Physical Strength Points far exceeded mortal standards. The kick contained a terrifying explosive force, sending the Shikigami crashing to the ground. Before it could rise, it felt a current of wind. Jiang Yiguang appeared above it, gripping her sword with both hands and plunging it downward with all her might.
The sword tip pierced the Shikigami and struck the ground with a tooth-grinding clang. Jiang Yiguang stumbled slightly, bracing herself against the sword to halt her forward momentum. She looked up at Fu Juan. Perhaps the earlier Five Thunder Spell had distracted her, disrupting her rhythm against her own Shikigami opponent, preventing a swift, decisive kill. Fu Juan, seated in her wheelchair, was inherently limited. When facing a speed-type Shikigami, her movements were hampered. Jiang Yiguang gritted her teeth, struggling to summon her waning strength. She didn’t even glance at the blood blister rubbed raw on her palm by the sword hilt, ready to step forward again.
But then, a voice laced with urgency cut through the wind: “Master Zhou, over here!”
Jiang Yiguang didn’t need to look up to know the newcomer was Wang Xuanming, forcibly dropped into the main quest by fate. Her gaze swept past him, landing on the old Daoist striding beside him, dressed in a gray-blue robe. She’d never seen this elder before. Though his expression seemed composed, for a fleeting moment, Jiang Yiguang sensed a flicker of malice. Before she could probe further, the feeling vanished.
Wang Xuanming’s shout altered the situation on the field.
Tushan Yi, who had been standing aside, her eyes flashing cold, acted. Her snowy-white whip traced an arc of light, like lightning streaking across the night. It struck a Shikigami, instantly dispersing it. She shifted her stance slightly, positioning herself perfectly—able to attack Xu Heng yet also guard against the newcomers behind her.
Bo Qi, curled in a ball, trembled even more violently.
“Sir, you are not a cultivator of our Divine Land. You have violated the laws!” Wang Xuanming began his grandiose speech, seemingly compelled to complete this scripted display of righteousness. Jiang Yiguang found it laughable. They were already fighting, and he was concerned with formalities? Waiting for him to finish his lecture? Did he think the tribulation could be resolved through the power of “universal love”?
The first to lose patience wasn’t Xu Heng with his mocking smile, but the Daoist Zhou accompanying Wang Xuanming.
He stated simply: “Bring Bo Qi.”
Wang Xuanming’s words faltered. Only then did he notice the wretched Bo Qi cowering in the courtyard corner—that weak yet powerful existence on the Dao Court’s wanted list.
Scratching his head in confusion, Wang Xuanming asked, “What about this Onmyoji, then?” He’d taken this mission after detecting Shikigami activity in Shen City. Encountering Master Zhou was a coincidence, and Bo Qi an even more unexpected surprise.
Xu Heng offered a gentle smile. “I will return with you to the Xuanzhen Dao Court for questioning, of course.” Gone were the murderous intensity and fury he’d displayed moments ago.
Daoist Zhou’s eyelid twitched. He shot Xu Heng a veiled glance.
Such a sudden shift in attitude—how could it not raise suspicion?
Wang Xuanming frowned. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked toward Bo Qi. But the instant he moved, a Ritual Sword, its blade shimmering with flowing runes, blocked his path. Jiang Yiguang offered him a fake smile. “Sorry, but Bo Qi is my guest—no, my prisoner. He won’t be going back with you.”
Wang Xuanming stared at her, stunned. “He’s a wanted fugitive!”
“Indeed,” Jiang Yiguang nodded, hands clasped before her chin in mock contemplation. After a pause, she flashed a professional, businesslike smile. “In certain jurisdictional matters, the Noble Clans have the same authority as the Dao Court. Bo Qi… is my merit.” She deliberately stressed the last two words, as if afraid he’d miss her smugness.
Daoist Zhou spoke, his voice hoarse: “Daoist Jiang Li is not at home. Bo Qi can travel through dreams to escape. You cannot restrain him.”
“Exactly,” Wang Xuanming chimed in, his gaze falling on Fu Juan. He softened his voice. “Why don’t you advise her against this?” Since their last “dispute,” he’d wanted to contact Fu Juan several times, but the memory of her coldness filled him with deep frustration. He wanted to let go of that stubborn attachment, yet the boiling feelings in his heart grew fiercer whenever he saw her. He inexplicably felt that he was the one who should be standing beside Fu Juan.
“You’re right. But that was before,” Jiang Yiguang’s fake smile remained. “I’m not alone at home anymore. Restraining Bo Qi is hardly difficult.”
Daoist Zhou’s eyes turned cold. “Tushan Yi of Azure Hill.” He gave Tushan Yi a deep, meaningful look but didn’t directly confront her. Instead, he pulled out a seal from his sleeve and said in a deep voice, “The ‘Four Gates Seal’ is here!”
“The Four Gates Seal? What’s that?” Jiang Yiguang looked at him quizzically, confusion flickering in her eyes. But Fu Juan’s expression instantly changed. She abruptly raised her head, staring intently at the seal in the old Daoist’s withered hand. A swirl of agitation and unwillingness flashed in her dark pupils.
“Seal of the Four Gates’ Talismans…” Wang Xuanming also stared blankly at Daoist Zhou, a sharp intake of breath catching in his throat. He’d had no idea Master Zhou possessed this. Centuries ago, when the Ming dynasty was first established, only four major Mystical Families remained on the Divine Land Continent. The emperor of that era had appointed the head of the Zhang family as Overseer of the Four Gates’ Talismans, making him chief among the four, responsible for overseeing all Mystic Sect matters. He’d bestowed this seal, and the four family heads all swore oaths upon the “Four Gates Seal.” From then on, it became the supreme symbol of authority among the four families—though its power had waned significantly since the Dao Court’s rise. The seal possessed a spirit, recognizing only members of the Zhang family as its master. Its previous master was the daughter of the Zhang Family Head. But after the incident eight years ago, the Four Gates Seal had vanished completely. Now Master Zhou held it. How had he obtained it? Did the Zhang cultivators even know? The thoughts raced through Wang Xuanming’s mind.
When Wang Xuanming revealed the seal’s full name, Jiang Yiguang finally dug up a faint memory of it from the dusty corners of her mind. Unlike those disciplined disciples of the Mystical Families, in their eyes, she was simply rebellious. She raised an eyebrow at Daoist Zhou, smiling mockingly. “What era are we in, using a seal to boss people around? That’s a sword from a fallen dynasty. Shouldn’t it just go straight to a museum?”
Daoist Zhou frowned. Every member of the Jiang family, whether cultivator or mortal, was born with a rebellious streak, he thought darkly. He didn’t waste words. Chanting an incantation, he activated the Four Gates Seal. Instantly, a chain of glowing golden talismanic symbols burst from it, whirling into a pale golden ring.
Wang Xuanming instinctively bowed toward the flowing light.
Fu Juan’s grip on her armrest tightened, her knuckles turning white.
Jiang Yiguang, however, felt entirely unaffected by the seal’s presence, unable to perceive the ancestral authority it radiated. The seal that commanded the Four Great Families held an innate suppression over their cultivators; the weaker one’s cultivation, the harder it was to resist. Clearly, Jiang Yiguang was the exception. She frowned, raising her sword to cleave at the incoming golden radiance. In that instant, the dormant System finally made its appearance in this main quest.
【Detecting host’s intention to damage the Female Lead’s mother’s memento. Three options available:
A. Destroy it regardless. (Daoist Skill Points +5)
B. Step back, let them take Bo Qi. (Charisma Points -1)
C. Find a way to obtain the “Four Gates Seal.” (Physical Strength Points +3)】
Jiang Yiguang instinctively chose the first option.
Her most primal impulse might not be her true heart’s desire; it could be fate’s manipulation.
An act like “destroying Fu Juan’s mother’s memento” would shatter the hard-won peace between them, sending Fu Juan’s simmering anger toward her skyrocketing. No matter the circumstances, if someone did that to her, she’d fight them to mutual destruction. Yet currently, this option seemed the most feasible. Unlike Wang Xuanming’s miserable state, Fu Juan was merely showing subtle signs of being affected.
Did a “source of all evil” truly deserve to exist?
After weighing the pros and cons, she chose the first option. Even if it aligned with what fate wanted her to do, with a different premise, the outcome would naturally differ. Understanding this, Jiang Yiguang felt a weight lift from her heart. Silently apologizing to Fu Juan, her Ritual Sword, driven by the Wind’s Motion, slashed at the golden light pouring from the seal. Daoist Zhou snorted coldly, stomping the ground. He directly unleashed the Heavenly Constellation Divine Power—’Shaking Mountains and Earth’! With decades of cultivation behind him, that single stomp could overturn the entire courtyard. Tushan Yi, ever vigilant, reacted almost simultaneously. A majestic, heaven-spanning Dharma Idol of a Nine-Tailed Fox materialized behind her, forcibly suppressing the shockwaves.
Daoist Zhou wasn’t surprised by Tushan Yi’s intervention. His robes billowed in the wind. He met her gaze, a cold gleam in his eyes. “Then we fight.”
Tushan Yi curled her lip, an impatient, single word escaping: “Fight.” Her target was clear—the Four Gates Seal in Daoist Zhou’s hand. Even Jiang Yiguang could see it, and so could she. Her Nine-Section Whip traced silver arcs, tearing through the dark night with a sharp hiss. Daoist Zhou, heir to Mystic Sect traditions, was most adept at the Five Thunder Divine Ability. A Thunder Talisman between his fingers, his spell complete, he called forth a sky-covering net of lightning. Millions of electric serpents slithered within the net, painting the sky a magnificent shade of deep purple.
Xu Heng watched the scene, his smile gentle and warm. His gaze shifted to Bo Qi. “Interesting,” he murmured slowly. It was better if Bo Qi wasn’t handed over. If he went directly to the Court, the “chaos” would be insufficient, not meeting his expectations. A seed of doubt needed to be planted. At this moment, however, being hunted in the Divine Land wasn’t ideal. As an ally, he had a duty to clean up the final “loose ends.” He glanced at Jiang Yiguang, still entangled with the Four Gates Seal’s power, and with a slight smile, strode lightly toward Bo Qi.
Though Jiang Yiguang felt no pressure from the seal, the moment her sword clashed with its flowing light, she sensed herself being pulled into a vast, swirling vortex. If she couldn’t cleave through the chaotic current, she wouldn’t be able to break free. She steadied herself. Her spiritual energy had been largely depleted from the fight with the Shikigami. Yet in extreme moments, the body could unleash even greater power. Her sword qi, cold as frost and snow, severed strands of the golden light. Breaking free wasn’t easy, but watching Bo Qi get taken by Xu Heng was also a total failure.
As Jiang Yiguang racked her brain, she felt a wind.
Though suppressed by the Four Gates Seal, Fu Juan, through sheer, formidable willpower, had endured. Through her Dao Bone, she connected with the world’s spiritual energy, requiring neither talisman paper nor brush. A talisman was drawn in the air itself. Her voice, soft, was startlingly clear amidst the howling storm of wind, thunder, and fire. In that moment of thrumming Dao Rhythm, her chanting seemed to drown out all other sounds in the world.
“Flying Heaven’s sudden fire, bird’s head calls the wind. Grand Void drums and surges, majestic power spreads through the center. Shatter mountains, overturn peaks, send flying stones soaring through the sky. By the True King’s decree, swiftly emerge from the Xun Palace…”
It was the Wind Rising Spell.
The energy of heaven and earth moved. The instant the wind rose, Jiang Yiguang’s sword momentum suddenly turned ferocious and swift.
The wind came on its own.
She no longer needed to expend spirit and energy to sense the wind’s presence in the world.
Wind is born from the earth, rises from the tips of green duckweed. It invades gorges, rages at the mouths of caves, follows the curves of Mount Tai, dances beneath pines and cypresses. Drifting and surging, it whirls in furious flames. Its roaring, thundering voice echoes and twists, toppling boulders, felling trees, decimating forests and thickets.
The treasured sword flashed with cold light.
At the intersection of sword light and sword ray, with that single point as the center, the surrounding golden river of talismanic symbols cracked. Fissures appeared, and with a series of fine shattering sounds, the centuries-old “Four Gates Seal” that had once commanded the four clans disintegrated into dust under the recoiling energy wave and sword intent.
Jiang Yiguang looked toward Fu Juan.
Freed from the restraint, she didn’t spare a single glance at the remnants of the seal. Instead, she covered her mouth and coughed, raising her hand to cast another Mystic Sect spell. Her every action was without restraint. The concept of “moderation” was entirely absent in her. It was as if only through limitless agony could she manifest the traces of her existence, as if every act was a resolute march toward death. But as the female lead, driven by fate, the possibility of her physical death was minimal. What about her heart, then? Was the death of the heart truly the severing of all emotions?
Sighing, Jiang Yiguang looked at the reward of Daoist Skill Points that had arrived. She decided, just this once, to follow the dictates of her true heart. To use “sincerity” to repay “the grace of a candy.” Her right hand gripped her sword, but her throat felt blocked, unable to utter a single word.
“You don’t need to feel guilty. I don’t mind,” Fu Juan said, without looking at Jiang Yiguang. Yet she had somehow guessed Jiang Yiguang’s innermost thoughts. Her cold, heavy gaze was like a dark vortex swallowing all light. Talismans burned silently in the fire. Divine powers like Flying Sand and Rolling Boulders and Summoning Wind and Rain seemed casually thrown out as she attacked Xu Heng. Meanwhile, Jiang Yiguang pulled back her sword, and with a slide of her foot, closed the distance to Xu Heng. Long-range combat relied on spells; close-quarters, on the sword. Both were at the end of their strength, not aiming to defeat Xu Heng, only to stall him until Tushan Yi could finish off the old Daoist.
“Y-you—” Wang Xuanming stared at Fu Juan and Jiang Yiguang in bewilderment.
Fu Juan ignored him.
Jiang Yiguang, however, glanced back, pausing briefly.
She’d always disliked Wang Xuanming, and seeing him like this only deepened her contempt. Not wanting him to get in the way, her eyes flickered, and she spouted some nonsense: “This foreign Onmyoji is suspected of destroying the Dragon Vein. Bo Qi is a witness.” This Onmyoji was definitely connected to the incident eight years ago. Guilty anyway—she could correct the specific charges later. Jiang Yiguang had absolutely no sense of being an “orthodox Mystic cultivator.”
Bo Qi’s eyes widened, his heart trembling.
She actually dared to say that?!
Her long sword tore a brilliant streak of light as she thrust it at Xu Heng’s heart.
She didn’t stop her wild fabrications, her voice clear as jade striking stone.
“Xu Heng, claiming to be a descendant of Xu Shi. What he excels at is probably the same as his ancestor, right? Deceiving people that he can obtain the Elixir of Immortality? And to concoct a drug of eternal youth, who’s to say ‘Dragon Vein Quintessence’ isn’t a key ingredient? After all, Empress Wenzhao managed to preserve her True Spirit for a thousand years just by drawing on the Dragon Vein’s Qi!”
Stories in novels always developed this way. And since this world they lived in originated from someone’s pen, the possibility of her guess being true was certainly there.
Jiang Yiguang was inexplicably confident.
