Volume Two: The Mortal Realm, Chapter 123: Heavy Snow Falls Upon Yangjing

Is the divide between immortals and mortals truly so vast?

Ye Mingke looked at Jian Jiu, and Jian Jiu looked back. They both understood what the other was thinking, yet two people so similar could not bring themselves to accept each other’s perspective.

Both were solitary figures. Jian Jiu’s loneliness was that of a lofty, noble prince. From birth, he had been the most dazzling child of heaven, never lacking for those who wished to be his companion. His isolation stemmed merely from his disdain for associating with those he deemed beneath his station.

Ye Mingke’s loneliness, however, was that of a little monster. A little monster has few friends, so he clung with all his might to anyone who dared to draw near.

Yet, a genius and a monster had become friends. And in friendship, mutual respect is paramount.

Jian Jiu lowered his eyelids and said faintly, "I am merely stating my perspective."

"Of course. As you wish."

...

The next morning, the horizon was shrouded in twilight.

Amidst the swirling snow, Ye Mingke and his companions arrived at the Vermilion Bird Gate, the main entrance to Yangjing.

They looked up.

Through the veil of snow, the magnificent, fire-red capital that filled their vision appeared like a giant phoenix, silently burning as it perched upon the earth.

Silent, grand, majestic, and imposing.

Yet, the red on this phoenix might not be fire; it could be blood—fresh, flowing blood.

Ye Mingke carried Qiaoqiao on his back; Liu Xi bore a heavy sword wrapped in cloth; Xu Zixian carried his wooden chest. With Jian Jiu’s assistance, they had applied disguises. Led by him, they trod upon the crunching, deep snow toward that massive, oppressive silence.

After gazing up at the colossal gate, they lowered their heads to see bodies curled up in the snow, their faces frozen in eerie, deathly smiles.

Outside the gate at dawn, they were not alone. Crowds of refugees were huddled against the city walls, buried in the drifts. Some, shivering, still clung to a breath of life, but most had either fallen unconscious from the biting cold or had already succumbed to death. Many faced the gate, frozen in a kneeling posture—a pious, yet tragic sight.

"Why have so many frozen to death?"

"In years past, wasn't it said that the immortals would provide alms outside Yangjing? Why? Why has your Watcher Bureau abandoned even the pretense of mercy this year?"

Xu Zixian, carrying his wooden chest, looked at the refugees buried in the snow. His eyes reddened, and he demanded of Jian Jiu with indignation.

"Because of you," Jian Jiu replied coldly.

"In a single night, you slaughtered the Watchers of the twelve northern prefectures; you even killed the Si Tian of Yangjing. To kill a single cultivator at the Spirit-Sensing realm is enough to warrant the execution of one's entire clan, yet you killed with such abandon. You can imagine the fury of those within the Watcher Bureau."

"The Watcher Bureau has shepherded the mortal realm for a hundred years. This is the first time they have suffered such casualties."

"Almost every immortal cultivator in the Great Xia is incensed. That is why the Watcher Bureau will offer no alms to the hundreds of thousands of refugees flooding in this winter. And those people, unaware, continue to flock here like fools."

Jian Jiu’s words were indifferent and heartless. Yet Liu Xi and Xu Zixian, who were also of the mortal realm, felt their eyes sting and their bodies tremble as they gazed at the stacked, stiff bodies and terrifying smiles beneath the wall.

It was a grief and anger so profound that it was tinged with a vague sense of helplessness and fear.

They looked out and saw that the number of mortals frozen to death under the walls exceeded thousands.

A chill seeped into their bones. Though they were people of resilient spirit, they realized that while they had exhausted everything to kill immortals and protect humanity, the cost of their actions was the death of tens of thousands of commoners. Furthermore, killing the Si Tian and the Watchers proved nothing, for within the Eastern Sea Immortal Realm, there remained many cultivators of the Spirit-Transformation and Origin-Penetration realms. There was still no path to victory in this resistance.

This was why the old beggar, after his sword-offering in Yangjing, had seen his heart of the sword shatter and spent ten years wandering. He could see no hope, nor could he be certain of the meaning of his actions, as everything he had done with his full strength seemed only to have uselessly caused the deaths of thousands.

*Clang. Clang.*

A resonant bell tolled from within the city, and then, on the winding, towering walls, armored soldiers struck numerous massive golden bells.

The deafening sound echoed across the capital and the wilderness beyond. An official dressed in eunuch robes stood atop the Vermilion Bird Gate. Facing the rising sun, he read aloud.

A formation on the gate amplified his voice, making it ring clearly both inside and outside the city.

"By the decree of Heaven, evil cults now plague the mortal realm. Ignorant subjects have followed them, defying the Immortal Worship Edict, offending the immortals, and defiling the Immortal Path. To ensure the Great Xia regains the protection of the Heavenly Dao, to restore peace and order for ten thousand years, the Sovereign of Great Xia shall hold a Great Sacrifice to Heaven, using thirty thousand rebellious subjects as offerings to cleanse the sins of the mortal realm and extinguish the wrath of the immortals."

"Furthermore, to ensure the Immortal Path of Great Xia is no longer obstructed by evil, from the day of the Great Sacrifice, a Ban on Martial Arts is hereby enacted. All subjects of Great Xia, save for the practice of immortal techniques, shall not cultivate other paths. Violators will be branded as traitors."

The resonant bells rang out once more.

But Xu Zixian seemed not to hear them. In his ears, only the words of the official echoed like thunder.

The group, now near the city, stopped almost simultaneously.

Xu Zixian glared at Jian Jiu with bloodshot eyes; Liu Xi gripped the hilt of her heavy sword; even Ye Mingke looked at Jian Jiu with a sharp, piercing gaze.

Xu Zixian gritted his teeth and said slowly, "Was it you who issued the Ban on Martial Arts and the sacrifice of thirty thousand people?"

Ye Mingke said nothing, merely staring straight at Jian Jiu.

Jian Jiu felt their hostility but ignored it, saying to Ye Mingke, "I don't know."

Seeing Ye Mingke’s gaze remained fixed, he added faintly, "You know I have no interest in these worldly affairs, so I take no part in them. And if my intuition is correct, I have been sidelined."

"The previous Si Tian was a disciple of Fangzhang Island, which has never been on good terms with our Penglai Island. His subordinates are all from Fangzhang. They told me nothing."

"That is why, even though I am the Si Tian, I still needed you to use disguises to enter Yangjing. Being discovered would be quite bothersome."

"Why should we believe you?" Xu Zixian clearly did not trust the man who held the highest position in the Great Xia Watcher Bureau. "How do we know if what you say is true or false? Whether you harbor murderous intent toward us? Whether you are just trying to lure us into the city?"

"Because there is no need for me to lie. If I wanted to kill you, I would simply do it," Jian Jiu said calmly. He turned to Liu Xi and gave a cold, mocking smile. "Isn't that right, the young lady among you with the highest cultivation?"

"You are strong. The strongest I have ever seen," Liu Xi replied coldly.

"So, will you enter Yangjing or not?" Jian Jiu asked.

"Let's go. If you trust me, you can trust him," Ye Mingke said to Liu Xi and Xu Zixian, then stepped forward, following Jian Jiu toward the gate.

As they reached the magnificent red gate, Liu Xi stopped and looked up.

Yangjing was a capital steeped in history and war. As the main gate facing the plains, the fire-red walls nearby bore the mottled scars of past conflicts.

Great Xia loved to display the weapons of defeated enemies on its walls as a show of force. Dozens of yards above the Vermilion Bird Gate, all manner of weapons were embedded, refracting the blinding light of the dawn. It was Great Xia’s way of demonstrating that Yangjing was a fortress that could never be conquered. And indeed, in its thousand-year history, Yangjing had never fallen to a foreign foe.

Yangjing had long been spared the ravages of war; most of the weapons had decayed under the sun and wind. Only the uppermost row remained relatively new, and at the very pinnacle, a single, pure ink-black longsword stood alone. Even after ten years of wind and rain, it still looked as sharp and new as the day it was placed there. Even from a distance, a faint, lingering sword intent could be felt.

The ancient sword, *Jingji* (Startled Silence)—the sword the old beggar had left behind in Yangjing.

*Jingji, Jingji.* The battle of the sword-offering in Yangjing was indeed meant to awaken a sleeping, ignorant world. It was a pity the world slept too soundly.

Ye Mingke noticed Liu Xi’s aura suddenly sharpen. He turned to look at her and, following her gaze, saw the longsword.

He stopped and looked at Liu Xi, saying nothing.

If she wanted to retrieve her father's sword here, he would not stop her; he would give his all to help her.

But Liu Xi only gazed at the sword for a long moment before lowering her head and walking toward the gate.

Passing through the massive entrance and crossing the threshold of shadows, they finally stepped into Yangjing.

They looked ahead. The ten-yard-wide Vermilion Bird Avenue stretched out before them. They followed the path with their eyes, lifting their heads.

Countless beautiful and towering structures rushed into their view, but the most imposing and eye-catching was, of course, the Imperial Palace. At the other end of their vision, a sea of golden, magnificent buildings connected in a vast expanse, with high towers and pavilions standing tall. Yet, above these towers rose an even more magnificent platform.

The platform stood behind the palace, dozens of yards high, dwarfing all other architecture. Adorned with countless reliefs, shimmering in gold and jade, it was the pinnacle of human craftsmanship, standing like a mountain peak in the heart of Yangjing, as if connecting to the heavens and holding them aloft.

"That is the Ascension Platform."

"Every year, those who become registered immortals of the Great Xia Watcher Bureau are crowned upon this platform, enjoying the offerings and worship of the people across the vast Great Xia territories."

"It is also the place where Great Xia holds its Great Sacrifice to Heaven."