Volume Two: The Mortal Realm, Chapter 126: The Great Contention

“If you’re certain, the cultivation technique will be delivered tomorrow,” Jian Jiu said.

“Thank you,” Ye Mingke nodded.

A silence fell between them.

“Is there anything else you need my help with? Or perhaps something you wish to know?” Jian Jiu asked slowly.

Ye Mingke did not answer immediately; he simply looked at him intently.

“Nothing?” Jian Jiu glanced toward the side rooms in the courtyard and said lightly, “Your two ‘visiting’ friends still haven’t returned.”

“If I asked for your help… would you offer it?” Ye Mingke lifted his head, his eyes cold and sharp as they met Jian Jiu’s indifferent gaze.

He had never liked Jian Jiu’s eyes; they looked upon the world with such cold detachment.

Ye Mingke gave a faint, wry smile.

“Even if you could help me, I wouldn’t want to trouble you again. I suspect that matter would bring you great difficulty. Favors between friends aren’t accounted for in that way.”

“That matter is classified as a level-two incident under the Guarding Division and falls directly under the jurisdiction of the Eastern Sea Wonderland,” Jian Jiu said, looking steadily at Ye Mingke, his tone calm but serious.

“I am someone who cares little. In truth, I don’t mind trouble. It’s just that I cannot accept nor understand it. You’re neither mortal nor a savior of the world, so why risk your life for so much?”

“I don’t know.”

Ye Mingke shook his head, a smile tinged with self-mockery. Perhaps it was absurd—being a demon, yet one day wishing to oppose immortals and save mortals from their hands.

“You don’t know, but I can tell you much. Do you know why the Guarding Division issued the Order of Reverence for Immortals? Why they set up Heavenly Checkpoints throughout the mortal realm?”

“That too is because of the existence of the Six Paths Technique.”

Jian Jiu’s eyes locked onto Ye Mingke’s, his voice cold but careful.

Ye Mingke listened intently to his friend’s words.

“Today is an era of prosperity but also of great strife. Before the Six Paths Technique appeared, most immortal wars were decided by comparisons of high-level cultivators. Many sect wars were decided by duels between sect leaders alone.”

“But after the Six Paths Technique appeared, the unification of cultivation methods gave rise to combined tactics among immortal legions. The quantity and quality of low-tier cultivators became crucial in immortal wars, fundamentally altering the traditional landscape of immortal conflict.”

Jian Jiu gazed toward the southern night sky over the capital and spoke slowly.

“The war to unify the Six Realms has reached a critical juncture. The Heavenly Emperor has conquered over two-thirds of the Six Realms; only the Azure Emperor remains to be subdued for total unification. The Azure Emperor’s forces now teeter on the brink of survival. Both sides exhaust all their strength to outmaneuver the other.”

“In the mortal realm, the largest and most expansive of the Six Realms, countless cultivators ascend each year, providing fresh blood to the other realms. This realm is the focal point of contention between the Heavenly Court and the Celestial Palace.”

“At the frontier where the southern wilds meet the Central Continent and Western Lands, a hundred thousand miles south of Yangjing, both the Heavenly Court and Celestial Palace have deployed armies numbering in the millions, locked in constant confrontation and warfare. Each year countless cultivators perish, necessitating a steady influx of new recruits.”

“One of the largest sources of soldiers is the mortal realm. Its chaos is cultivated purposefully to breed cultivators, to uphold the prestige of immortals, and to attract mortals in droves seeking immortality, using the most turbulent times to produce the greatest number of cultivators.”

“This is the grand trend of this era of great strife. Do you understand now?”

“I understand,” Ye Mingke exhaled deeply after hearing Jian Jiu’s words, his pale smile faint.

“What is it that you understand?” Jian Jiu’s voice was low, tinged with a subtle anger as he looked at the boy who now seemed more at ease.

“If you want to quell mortal suffering, you are opposing the entire momentum of the Six Realms?”

“You are but an outsider. And don’t forget, I said the appearance of immortal legions completely changed the combat strategies of cultivators, and Yangjing has such formations and legions.”

“The Yangjing Sword Festival ten years ago was partly a joke, partly because cultivators were unprepared. But this time, having killed the twelve district commanders and the Celestial Division, you face a Guarding Division in Yangjing that has truly awakened and is watching you carefully.”

“Watching us carefully… that’s good. At last, you’re truly paying attention to us,” Ye Mingke said calmly, eyes lowered to the teacup turning slowly in his hands.

“Do you know? I’ve always hated the way you all look at us—in the Misty Sea, on snowy nights, in the Dragon’s Neck Fire Pit. I don’t understand how, though we are all living beings, even humans, your eyes can be so cold and aloof.”

“Why is that?”

Ye Mingke raised his head, his eyes flashing cold light, piercing Jian Jiu’s deep, indifferent gaze.

“My view of you has changed, because we are alike. But they are not. We exist in two different worlds; our joys and sorrows do not resonate.”

“Besides, survival of the fittest—aren’t mortals without power naturally without dignity?”

Jian Jiu averted his eyes, seemingly afraid of being wounded by the sharp light in Ye Mingke’s gaze.

“Survival of the fittest? I’ve always felt that’s not right, that this world is wrong,” Ye Mingke shook his head, eyelids lowered as he watched the still-turning teacup and spoke softly.

“But I haven’t yet figured out what exactly is wrong.”

Their conversation fell silent again, the only sound the light rustling of snow falling around them.

“I’m leaving. If there’s news about what you asked, I’ll come find you,” Jian Jiu said, looking toward the shadow near the door where the spirit sword “Great Gate” rested. “As long as you’re in this courtyard, I can protect you no matter what. But if you go out to do anything, I can’t guarantee your safety, and I might even have to act against you.”

“I understand,” Ye Mingke nodded lightly.

Jian Jiu said no more and left.

Dawn came swiftly.

At daybreak, Liu Xi and Xu Zixian, who had gone out for a ‘look,’ returned, faces weary, and went straight to sleep.

Aru woke in the morning and after breakfast, Ye Mingke told her that news about her mother would take a couple more days to arrive.

Aru did not reply, only a soft “hmm” from her nose, then fell back into the silence and gloom that had characterized her since arriving in Yangjing.

Even amid the heavy winter snow, Yangjing remained the most bustling and prosperous city in the Great Xia Empire.

Beyond the low courtyard walls, the sounds of patrolling troops’ footsteps, street vendors’ calls, and greetings between passersby filled the air—lively and vibrant.

Yet occasionally, one could hear the faint cries of beggars and low sobs, and whenever an immortal procession passed, the whole street would fall into worshipful kneeling and blessings.

The lively bustle outside made the quiet solitude within the walls all the more pronounced.

After breakfast, Ye Mingke brought a reclining chair and sat beneath a tree in the courtyard, gazing at the clear blue sky after the snow had ceased, its clarity as tender and pure as jade. Not far off, the crimson eaves of the palace curved upward like flames, as if lost in thought.

Despite having slept most of the previous day, exhaustion still marked his face.

Aru sat silently not far from Ye Mingke by the doorway, either resting her chin in her hands and staring blankly at the sky like him, or building small snowmen alone—though none were ever completed. She would often knock them down midway and start anew.

She had yet to bring up the search for her mother or her father with Ye Mingke.

By lunchtime, Liu Xi and Xu Zixian, who had not slept all night, gradually woke, bringing some liveliness back to the courtyard.

Especially Xu Zixian, who after lunch pulled Ye Mingke into lively discussion, delving into numerical arts and calculations.

After exchanging algorithms, Xu Zixian found his own calculations far outpaced by Ye Mingke’s. Using the same method, Ye Mingke performed computations several times faster and without paper or pen.

“How can you calculate so fast? It’s impossible! I’m already the smartest brain in this world,” Xu Zixian said, stunned, staring dazedly at the runic inscriptions on the snow.

“Fast? Not really. My aunt taught me numerical arts. I studied with her for six years, and in the end, I was still a bit slower than her,” Ye Mingke replied without much feeling. Whenever he played chess with his aunt, he was always the one who got beaten, so he felt no pride.

The thought alone was enough to bring a bitter laugh.

“You’re already calculating at an unnatural speed. Your speed isn’t human. It’s as if…”

Even Xu Zixian, who wasn’t afraid or troubled even facing the twelve district commanders and Celestial Division, clutched his hair with a defeated expression.

“It’s like some legendary machine.”

“What kind of machine?” Ye Mingke asked curiously.

“This machine is what I most lack in my experiments right now. If it existed, many of my stalled experiments could be solved.”

“Maybe you should be my computer someday,” Xu Zixian said, his eyes gleaming with a wolfish light as he looked at Ye Mingke.

“Wait… what kind of ‘machine’?” Ye Mingke raised a hand, sensing trouble, to pause him.

“A machine for calculations, called a computer for short. Its principle is to construct and simulate a complete system using ones and zeros, a system capable of analyzing and computing most things in the world. But we can’t build one yet.”

“Computer brother, brother, I still have multiple experimental results I can’t verify because the calculations are too complex. I’ll have to trouble you.”

Xu Zixian’s eyes shone brighter as he dashed back to his room, pulled out a large chest, and brought back a thick stack of heavy white papers, beaming as he handed them to Ye Mingke.

The carefree expression Ye Mingke wore while enjoying the snow beneath the tree instantly darkened.