"I haven't caught your Daoist title yet, Senior," Ge Nie said.
"Me?" Li Hai Mo chuckled. "Forgot it ages ago. Something like Wuchen Zi or Wuya Zi, I think."
Xue Nu blinked in disbelief. Is he for real? Tricking me was one thing—now he's roping in Ge Nie too? If she knew he'd dragged Wei Zhuang into the ditch as well, she'd only feel even more... admiring.
"Ahem, Senior—the current Ren sect grandmaster's title is Wuchen Zi," Ge Nie explained, clearly taking him for some ancient Daoist hermit long estranged from the mortal world.
"Oh, then I won't go with Wuchen Zi. I'll take Wuya Zi," Li Hai Mo replied.
Xue Nu clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. He's burying Ge Nie all the way to the North Pole.What a player—long as he leaves me out of it next time.
Ge Nie's expression froze for a beat. Well, that's Daoist enough. Wuya Zi it was—their clan's affair, after all.
"Why has Senior Wuya Zi descended the mountain this time?" Ge Nie inquired.
The higher a Daoist's cultivation, the rarer their ventures into the world—so Ge Nie was genuinely curious what had drawn this elder out.
"The fifth Tian Ren Dao Token's been issued. Time to stretch these old bones," Li Hai Mo said.
The fifth token had indeed gone out, but only inner sect elites and above knew the full story. Outer disciples merely followed orders, blind to the why.
"The fifth Tian Ren Dao Token?" Ge Nie echoed, stunned.
He frequented Tai Yi Mountain often enough, yet hadn't heard a whisper. With both Tian and Ren sect grandmasters in seclusion, who'd issued it? And who presided?
The fifth token had dropped right before the Daoists sealed their gates—and before Li Hai Mo and Xiao Meng's own departure. King Zheng of Qin oversaw it personally, tasking surveys of the realm's rivers, mountains, and waterways. Layered with Qin state's Mohists, Gongshu clan, and hydraulic engineers, it redrew the world's borders from scratch. Places like Nanjing, Hangzhou, Suzhou, Wuhan—future megacities along the Yangtze—were mere hamlets now, Nanjing not even that.
All groundwork for unification: without it, how to parcel out lands for military merits? No endless soil to bestow—so reclaim the wilds, every inch. Qin's laws rewarded farming; till the earth, earn your nobility. Slave? Fine—clear the frontier, hit the quota, and you're freeborn. Climb from there, step by step.
But these were mere strokes on paper. Daoist archives held one copy, Qin another—sealed tight. Let Chu sniff out Qin's granary secrets, and the game was up; one Chu could bleed Qin dry.
"This token differs from the rest: utmost secrecy. None but inner sect and above may speak of it. Even Daoist disciples know only fragments—the full truth rests with the Tian and Ren grandmasters alone," Li Hai Mo explained.
True enough; even Xue Nu was in the dark.
Ge Nie glanced at her, seeing her blank confusion, and grasped the lockdown's severity.
Such surveys fit Daoists perfectly—no suspicion. Ask why you're poking their hills and streams? "Hunting your clan gravesite—or prepping one for you." And off they'd trot, beaming, begging you to "bless" their plot or their own future mound.
"Ge Nie, as King Zheng of Qin's chief swordmaster and prime guardian—you here in Han means the king himself must be in Xin Zheng too, no?" Li Hai Mo pivoted abruptly.
Ge Nie nodded—no sense hiding it. He wasn't alone this trip; another expert shadowed them, so the king's safety held firm.
"Here's a tip: Luo Wang's 'Net-Hiding Sun' is none other than Grand Marshal Lao Ai. He's in Xin Zheng now—crossed swords with Yin Yang clan's Eastern Sovereign recently, courtesy of Jing Ke's blade leaving him maimed."
Xue Nu rolled her eyes hard. Everyone else can play dumb on the 'why'—but not you. You started that mess, and now you're acting like it's got nothing to do with you.
"My thanks, Senior." Ge Nie knew the intel's weight. No more Luo Wang hunting them—now they could turn the tables, plotting Lao Ai's end.
"We'll take our leave then. Till fate crosses our paths again!" Li Hai Mo grinned. Oh, we'll meet sure enough—but spotting me? That's on you. Even if he did, that was Wuya Zi's doing—what's it to Wuchen Zi?
"Senior, fare well!" Ge Nie bowed.
But Li Hai Mo had already whisked Xue Nu into a swirl of rainbow butterflies, vanishing traceless.
"Did I missay it? I meant 'hold a moment'—not the polite send-off," Ge Nie muttered, awkward. He'd meant to mention Tian sect's grandmaster had tailed them to Xin Zheng—forgot clean. By the time it hit him, his "fare well" had shooed them off.
If Li Hai Mo learned Xiao Meng was already in Xin Zheng—and Ge Nie's "retention" came out as dismissal... would it kill him? Karma's wheel turns swift: fresh off duping Ge Nie, a grand pit yawned in Xin Zheng, waiting.
"Shizun, care to explain how Ge Nie and Wei Zhuang popped up in that grove?" Xue Nu prodded lightly.
Li Hai Mo shot her a look. "And you—care to unpack that Ride the Void on Winds business?"
"I..." Xue Nu faltered, then her eyes darted slyly. "That was just me fumbling into it blind. You have no idea how scary they are—don't hold back when they swing."
"Heh, think I'll buy that?" Li Hai Mo rolled his eyes. Then he clocked her empty hands—and his mind blanked. "Where's your Jian Jia?"
Xue Nu glanced down, flushing. Crap—rushed off without grabbing it. Who blasts it underground, then jets without a word?
Her face said it all: still buried, unclaimed. Li Hai Mo's forehead throbbed. "You squanderer—don't you know a sword's a swordman's soul? And you're my sword attendant! Know what that means?"
"I forgot!" Xue Nu grinned sheepishly.
"Stay put." Li Hai Mo figured the fighter in the grove was her alter ego—this one's the imposter. He streaked back as light, rematerializing in the thicket.
"Senior." Ge Nie called at his return.
"Sword slipped my mind—till next time!" Li Hai Mo yanked Jian Jia from the soil and bolted. Mortifying—gotta run. What swordsman forgets his blade?
Ge Nie gaped at the whirlwind arrival and exit. Saying one word's this tough? Or... does Senior know Xiao Meng's grandmaster's here—and dodged to spare the awkward reunion?
But no—the sword. Back for the sword. The sword. Vital thrice over. Forgot it? What play is this? Sword bearers blanking on their own edge? Folks say Daoist Scripture turns you daft or deranged—Senior starting on it too? Explains the lapse. Daoists defy all reason. Xiao Meng's grandmaster does the same: tallying heavens' days, eyeing him and the king like weeds, wordless and frosty. Or giggling at nothing, lost to the skies.
"Here—lose it again, fetch it yourself." Li Hai Mo shoved Jian Jia into Xue Nu's arms. Hopeless.
Famed blades bore spirits; lose one, and its call tugs the soul. What crammed her skull that she missed the first whisper?
"If I were Jian Jia, I'd rust to ruin before serving you," Li Hai Mo huffed. Jian Jia hummed in chorus, peeved.
Xue Nu cringed, cradling it gently—but Jian Jia spurned her, zipping back to its sheath alone.
"Serves you right!" Li Hai Mo swatted her nape and strode toward Xin Zheng.
"Careful—someone's inside!" Back at the courtyard, Li Hai Mo yanked Xue Nu back. Footfalls feather-light, deliberate—high skill, rivaling his own.
"Shizun?" Xue Nu blinked, ducking behind him, clueless.
"Quiet. Intruder's a master—not below me. If it turns ugly, bolt," Li Hai Mo warned gravely.
Xue Nu tensed—never seen him this edged. Who rates equal to Shizun? Could he be in real peril?
Li Hai Mo vaulted the wall soundless, Ling Xu unsheathed, creeping toward the chamber. The occupant sensed him too—the slow, deliberate shing of a drawn blade carried clear.
Door between them, neither budged—a silent standoff. Xue Nu slipped in after, spotting Li Hai Mo rooted outside. She got it—froze, breathless, keeping distance.
"Show yourself!" Li Hai Mo tired of the wait, thrusting through the panel.
Ring!
Ling Xu halted mid-plunge. Li Hai Mo ripped the door asunder, wheeling for an overhead cleave.
Clang!
A dull thud—then Li Hai Mo blanked. Ling Xu clattered to the floor.
Xue Nu lunged in alarm—what foe disarmed Shizun in one clash? But she froze too, Jian Jia slipping from her grip once more.
"Not bad, Wuchen Zi—drawing steel on me?" Within stood a silver-haired beauty in azure robes, Qiu Li in hand, her lovely face rimed with frost. Who else but Xiao Meng?
"You—you—how'd you get here?" Li Hai Mo stammered, scooping up Ling Xu.
"Waiting for your grand return?" Xiao Meng's voice iced over. Li Hai Mo winced.
"Shishu Xiao Meng!" Xue Nu squealed in delight, dashing forward. Jian Jia lay abandoned once more, weeping in solitude. This master's beyond saving—time to rust away.
_
If you want to support me and read advanced 70+ chapters and also other stories: patreon.com/Caluem