As one who stood at the very peak of the current era, Ding Xingfeng knew all too well, there were no such outrageous coincidences in this world.
In just the brief span of a single breath, he had witnessed three sudden, inexplicable accidents.
Each and every one of those three incidents, without exception, had interfered with the number of skips, preventing them from matching perfectly.
In other words, even Heaven itself seemed to be helping Gu Fangchen win the wager.
But how could Gu Fangchen, whose dantian had been destroyed and whose body was riddled with poison, possibly be favored by the will of Heaven?
If he were born under good fortune, he would never have fallen to his current state.
There was only one explanation for what had happened.
He had seized the national fortune.
When the fortune of an entire nation gathered upon one person, anything could happen, no matter how inconceivable.
Although Ding Xingfeng didn't think highly of this boy, the fact that the national fortune had manifested upon the Northern Garrison Prince's heir was truly a matter capable of shaking the entire world.
He looked at Gu Fangchen anew, clenched the powder in his hand back into the shape of a stone, and sneered.
"Has Gu Yuye finally gone mad?"
Gu Fangchen sighed softly.
"He hasn't gone mad. He's as clever as ever."
"He just found his real son, the one who topped the imperial examinations, and now he's preparing to throw me aside."
Ding Xingfeng's eyes flickered, a trace of intrigue appearing within them.
A biological son?
That meant this boy before him... was a fake heir.
But a fake heir who carried real national fortune.
This was no trivial matter, it was the national fortune!
To secretly divert national fortune was no child's play, especially not under the very nose of the Imperial City.
Without the cooperation of several top divine cultivators, it would be nothing but a fool's dream.
And with Gu Yuye's connections, such a thing was indeed within his means.
If this matter truly involved Gu Yuye, then it had surely been in planning for a long time.
To switch the sons, to seize the national fortune, then what exactly did the Northern Garrison Prince plan now? To discard, or to protect?
From the tone of Gu Fangchen's voice, it sounded as though he was an informed participant. But considering his earlier words, it seemed there was an even greater force behind him.
That was the power that gave him the courage to defy Gu Yuye and come here seeking Ding Xingfeng.
Gu Fangchen noticed the old man turning the stone idly between his fingers.
Although Ding Xingfeng's face showed little expression, Gu Fangchen knew, his favorability had gone up.
Whenever Ding Xingfeng was in a good mood, he would fidget with small movements like this.
When his mood soured, he would become perfectly still.
And how had he raised that favorability?
Simple.
Why had this Martial Saint chosen to live in seclusion at White Horse Temple?
Many believed it was because he felt remorse for his countless killings and sought enlightenment on the far shore of redemption.
But Gu Fangchen knew the truth.
He simply loved gossip.
White Horse Temple was a place where cultivators from all factions came and went, and news circulated endlessly every day.
With Ding Xingfeng's extraordinary hearing, he could eavesdrop on even a mosquito's chatter anywhere within the temple grounds.
He was, without question, living on the front lines of gossip,
And he relished every moment of it.
Now, Gu Fangchen himself was a walking, talking gossip headline.
If he polished and embellished his story a bit, it could fill hundreds of pages of sensational news feeds.
The moment he began to tell it, Ding Xingfeng's favorability naturally increased, one point, another point, another...
Ding Xingfeng turned his back, clasped his hands behind him, and said coolly,
"So, you came to me seeking a way out? This is what you call a plea for survival?"
Outwardly calm, he was in fact listening intently.
Gu Fangchen shook his head. "Finding a way out for myself is easy. But I'm not here for a way out. I'm here for a way forward."
"Not just for me, but for you as well."
Ding Xingfeng almost burst out laughing again.
He had to admit, this kid was something else. It had been a long, long time since anyone could make him laugh.
Today, he was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn't such a gloomy person after all.
People always said he was a madman, a butcher without mercy.
He had believed that himself once. But today, he realized he might have been wrong,
Those people had never truly seen what real madness looked like.
But the next thing Gu Fangchen said froze the smile on his lips.
Gu Fangchen spoke slowly, word by word.
"Do you want to kill Maha Wuliang?"
Ding Xingfeng turned his head, expressionless.
"You little yellow-haired brat, do you even know who Maha Wuliang is?"
Gu Fangchen raised his hand and pointed toward the night sky, smiling.
"I told you before, there are always some people in this world who can so easily hold the fate beneath this sky in their grasp."
He cleared his throat and began reciting one of Ding Xingfeng's red dossiers from memory.
"In the 125th year of Yong'an, the Great Tiansa of the Qingman Tribe, Maha Wuliang, took the alias Nie Xu and came to Great Wei disguised as a wandering monk from the Western Regions."
"He debated and discoursed on scripture eighty-eight times, winning every single match, earning the title of 'Holy Master, Child of the Buddha' in Great Wei, gaining immense fame and unrivaled prestige."
"After that, he told Emperor Yong'an that he could discern the hearts of men, that he possessed the ability to reveal hidden inner demons."
"Our Emperor believed him."
Gu Fangchen looked toward the ragged, irritable old man before him and said softly,
"The first one he was to examine was the Marquis of Yizhou, Ding Xingfeng, the Martial Saint who had entered the Dao through the martial path after his great victory against the Qingman."
The old man gave a self-deprecating smile.
"Yes. Then you must also know what happened next."
Gu Fangchen nodded.
"Ding Xingfeng was born without a clear mind, violent by nature, buried tens of thousands alive, and took joy in killing. If not restrained, he would become a devil bringing calamity to all under heaven."
Ding Xingfeng stared at him.
"Since you know that, why aren't you afraid?"
Gu Fangchen's face grew solemn. He cupped his hands and gave a respectful martial salute.
"If those you killed were the beasts who burned, plundered, and devoured the people of Great Wei's borders, then I only regret that you didn't kill enough, that you couldn't make them tremble and shatter their courage at the mere sound of our name."
This was not empty flattery; it was what he truly felt. The world of Great Wei in the game was a reflection of countless dynasties of Huaxia's history.
Naturally, he felt deep empathy.
Ding Xingfeng fell silent for a long time, sighed, and shook his head.
"Ridiculous."
Ridiculous that even a mere youth could understand what, in those days, the high ministers and scholars of the court could not.
He had reported the truth of the frontier, yet they had said it was all nonsense, impossible fabrications.
"The Qingman may be savage," they had said, "but they are still human. If they have cattle and sheep, why would they eat men?"
Some refused to believe it, saying Ding Xingfeng had always punished the wicked and upheld justice, he could not be lying.
So they sought the answer from the Sage of Confucianism seated atop Mount Yao.
The Sage had said:
"At man's beginning, his nature is good."
And with those words, every accusation against Ding Xingfeng became "proof" of deceit, fearmongering, and falsified military merit.
He hadn't feared any of that.
But later he came to understand, their true goal wasn't just to make the court wary of him.
It was to destroy his Dao heart.
Because Maha Wuliang had spoken the truth.
Ding Xingfeng really had taken pleasure in killing. His cruelty was real; the pits of corpses were real.
When he lost his reputation as a hero, when he could no longer convince himself that his blade served justice, he began to wonder if he ought to put it down.
But before he could come to an answer, Maha Wuliang revealed his true form before him.
And Ding Xingfeng's first instinct, was to kill.
Yet all others saw was that he had slain the "Holy Master, Child of the Buddha," Nie Xu.
The Great Tiansa of the Qingman Tribe's disguise had been flawless.
After that, the Martial Saint Ding Xingfeng became the villain despised by sages and scholars alike. His name was ruined, reviled by all.
If killing the wicked was wrong, was he supposed to kill the good instead?
He vanished and lived in seclusion for years. For much of that time, he battled inner demons, half mad, half lucid.
Even now, it seemed he was still trapped in the same place, unable to move forward.
And the only road left before him:
Was to kill the Maha Wuliang who still hid among the Qingman.
Gu Fangchen's mysterious theatrics at first had seemed to Ding Xingfeng like nonsense, mere empty talk of destiny and fortune.
But now, it seemed the boy truly meant it.
Ding Xingfeng sat down, lifted a bowl of water, and took a sip.
Then, for the first time, he raised his head to look Gu Fangchen straight in the eyes, as an equal.
"Maha Wuliang is a second-rank Divine Dao Saint," he said quietly. "It seems what you plan to take from me... will be a great deal."
Gu Fangchen took a deep breath, a wave of relief washing through him.
The night wind blew cold against his back, where his soaked clothes clung to him, but he didn't dare relax for even a moment.
From this moment onward, the true story was only just beginning.