Who was Gu Yuye?
He was the Heart Demon, the War Saint, the Northern Garrison Prince whose name shook the world and whose power dominated the court.
Unfailing in strategy, bordering on demonic in intellect, that was his reputation. Cunning, ruthless, never acting without absolute certainty, that was his nature.
Whenever anyone mentioned Gu Yuye, they felt a chill down their spine. To oppose him meant advancing step by cautious step, for one misstep meant death without even knowing how it came.
No one could imagine what it would look like for Gu Yuye to stumble and fall into another's trap.
Gu Yuye himself could not have imagined it.
He had never dreamed that the "useless" son he had personally raised step by step would one day turn into a venomous serpent and bite him with fangs sharper than he could foresee.
All his life, he had hunted geese, and never thought the pig meant for slaughter would be the one to overturn him!
Only his long-honed caution had kept him alive tonight. Barely alive.
His War Puppet had perished, and the instant of that puppet's death, the shock, the unguarded moment, had reverberated directly into him.
To Gu Yuye, that was far more intolerable than a simple defeat.
For Gu Fangchen was someone he had watched grow up, someone whose every step had been inside the bounds of his plan. And yet in one night, the whole chessboard had been overturned.
Why?
That was the thought that broke his composure most of all.
He could not find the flaw.
At what point had Gu Fangchen concealed himself, and so deeply that even he could not see through it?
Gu Yuye would never allow a speck of dust he could have brushed aside at will to become the cause of his own downfall.
To him, this was an unbearable humiliation.
He had to kill Gu Fangchen.
Even a Martial Saint could not stop him.
Gu Yuye stepped through the air, and in an instant his finger reached the space right before Gu Fangchen's brow.
A little further, and Gu Fangchen's body and soul alike would have been annihilated.
Yet Gu Yuye's expression grew even uglier.
According to his calculations, his void-step should have landed perfectly, his finger striking Gu Fangchen's head and crushing his skull in one effortless tap.
But he had missed, by a hair.
Again, events had diverged from his predictions.
This time, however, he immediately realized why.
Instinctively, he had used the mountain where White Horse Temple stood as his mental coordinate, the same terrain he had long memorized.
But tonight was different.
The entire mountain had shifted, just one inch to the right.
That single, trivial inch had saved Gu Fangchen's life once again.
Gu Fangchen himself had no idea, but if he had, he would have instantly recognized it as the work of the Mandate of Heaven.
When Ding Xingfeng had earlier calmed the storms across the lake, his exertion had caused the mountain's foundation to tilt just that one inch rightward.
That minuscule shift had thrown off Gu Yuye's precision and cost him the kill.
And just then,
Pa!
A thin, weathered hand caught Gu Yuye's wrist in a grip of steel, motionless, unyielding.
"Clicking your tongue already?"
A hoarse, aged voice spoke.
"The boy already called my name, and you still insist on killing him? Do you really think I'm dead?"
Gu Yuye exhaled deeply, regaining control of his expression. His gaze dropped, meeting a pair of murky eyes.
The gaunt, sun-darkened old fisherman before him seemed utterly ordinary, yet to Gu Yuye, his face was unmistakable.
One of the seven living cultivators of the Second Grade realm.
The Undefeated Martial Saint, Ding Xingfeng.
When Gu Fangchen had shouted "Old Ding" earlier, Gu Yuye had already felt a premonition.
But Ding Xingfeng had vanished from the world years ago, his whereabouts unknown even to the Heavenly Bureau.
Why would he suddenly appear here at White Horse Temple, and how could he possibly know Gu Fangchen?
An unnamable fire rose in Gu Yuye's chest.
His tone stayed calm, his face impassive.
"The unfilial son sought to kill his father. I imagine this has nothing to do with the Martial Saint, senior."
Ding Xingfeng cast Gu Fangchen a sidelong glance.
Gu Fangchen stared at the finger that hovered before his forehead, his face pale, yet he still found strength to smile and spread his hands.
The meaning was plain: I've demonstrated it for you. Whether you'll keep your promise or not, it's up to you now.
For someone so young, the boy's nerve was astonishing, sharper than most who'd survived decades in the jianghu.
Ding Xingfeng snorted, gripping Gu Yuye's wrist and forcing it down, inch by inch.
"Father and son? What father and son? Didn't you rush all the way back from Huangtian City just to throw this boy out of your mansion and hand the heir's seat to your real son?"
"Such majesty, Northern Garrison Prince, your word weighs more than imperial edicts."
"And tell me, who first raised a killing thought? You don't know?"
The old man had never cared for lofty decorum.
For years he had lived by this wild ferry, fishing for a living like any other old fisherman.
When angered, he cursed. When displeased, he chased people off with words.
He lived however he pleased.
Even if he returned to the world today, he would not wear the mask of the righteous sage again. He said whatever he liked.
Gu Yuye had never imagined that the so-called "Undefeated Martial Saint" would have such a scoundrel's temperament.
His wrist trembled faintly, their clash silent but fierce.
And yet to Gu Yuye, it felt as though he were pressing against a mountain that neither moved nor ended. No matter how much strength he used, his hand was forced lower, inch by inch.
Who could match a Martial Saint's fleshly might?
Undefeated meant truly undefeated.
Gu Yuye had not gone all-out, but he knew this was no longer the time to fight.
Momentum, he understood it well. Strike once and fail, strike again and weaken, strike a third time and exhaust your will.
Three failed attempts in one night, he knew the time to act had passed.
His plan to resolve everything tonight was no longer possible.
Still, the Martial Saint's intervention soothed his fury somewhat.
For it proved that Gu Fangchen's sudden transformation into a poisonous snake could not have come from himself, but from Ding Xingfeng's power.
That made sense.
Gu Fangchen was still the same useless good-for-nothing, merely a pawn in another's hand.
Crushing him would simply take a little more effort.
Gu Yuye paused, then withdrew his hand and lightly caught Gu Yuandao's staggering body.
He said calmly, "I acted rashly. The Demon Sect's power runs deep. If an infiltrator has been hidden at my side for years, who could sleep soundly through the night?"
"Besides, though we share no blood, His Majesty has not revoked the title of heir personally bestowed upon him. Naturally, he remains my son."
Then his tone cooled.
"But by your words, Senior, was it truly you who urged him to raise his hand against me?"
Gu Fangchen had long since slipped behind Ning Caiyong, resuming his pitiful façade.
Ding Xingfeng rolled his eyes.
"Yes, it was me. Who else could it be?"
His tone dripped with mockery. "Otherwise? That boy's dantian is ruined, his meridians a tangled mess, without even a trace of cultivation. How could he possibly kill the Northern Garrison Prince?"
Gu Yuye asked, "Has this king wronged you, Senior?"
"No."
"Then perhaps I offended you unknowingly?"
"Also no."
Gu Yuye drew a long, deep breath. The humiliation he had swallowed tonight already outweighed every failure of his life.
He spoke coldly.
"Then may I ask, Senior, raising your hand against a super-ranked Prince of the Imperial Court without cause, do you intend rebellion against Great Wei itself?"
Ding Xingfeng grinned.
"Who said it was without cause?"
He pointed directly at Gu Fangchen.
"You wronged this boy. That means you wronged me."
Gu Yuye fell silent again.
He ran through countless possibilities, except this one.
Surely Ding Xingfeng had some hidden reason, using Gu Fangchen merely as a pretext to challenge him.
Gu Fangchen could never be worth a Martial Saint's intervention.
No, Ding Xingfeng simply didn't want to say it.
Gu Yuye's eyes narrowed, steady and unreadable, a faint smile curling his lips.
"Then may I ask, Senior, why you are so intent on protecting my son? What reason lies behind this? As far as I know, he has never left Huangtian, how could he have met you?"
Ding Xingfeng chuckled.
"Who said we had to meet?"
He strode over, clapped Gu Fangchen's shoulder with exaggerated force, and declared boldly,
"I was strolling by the lake tonight, saw this boy, and nearly fell over from shock! Heaven and earth, what a martial genius! Once in ten thousand years!"
"Right then and there, I felt an instant bond, and took him as my personal disciple."
Gu Yuye's expression froze.
Ning Caiyong: "?"
Gu Yuandao: "???"
Gu Fangchen: "..."
Ding Xingfeng slung an arm around Gu Fangchen's shoulders, grinning widely.
"Be good, disciple. Let me hear you call me Master."
Damn it. The old fox had learned how to take revenge.
Gu Fangchen's mouth twitched.
He had spent so much effort just to bring Ding Xingfeng to equal footing in negotiation, to gain some leverage.
Now, with a few words, the old man had flipped the board again.
He clearly wanted payback for being coerced earlier, forced to accept terms he hated as a condition of taking a disciple.
Now he'd turned the tables.
Gu Fangchen's face darkened. Grinding his teeth, he forced out, "Master."
"Ah~" Ding Xingfeng stretched the syllable out, savoring it.
The brat had tricked him once, he'd at least collect some interest.
Having a disciple who could annihilate a Third-Grade War Puppet instantly wasn't embarrassing at all.
Besides, he was a Martial Saint, why would he care about innate talent?
No matter how talented, none could compare to him anyway.
Everyone present stood stunned.
A martial prodigy? Gu Fangchen?
Those two words weren't merely unrelated, they were opposites.
Even when his dantian had been intact, his aptitude was below average. Now that he was crippled, he was little better than a mortal.
How could such a person be fit to become a Martial Saint's disciple?
Even Gu Yuye found himself momentarily speechless.
After all, it was a Martial Saint.
Whatever else, his personal legacy could not be taken lightly.
A true disciple, not a mere named student.
Even if Ding Xingfeng's name had been blackened over the years, his standing in the Martial Path remained unshaken.
Gu Yuandao clenched his jaw, chest heaving violently as he struggled to suppress his blood.
Why?!
That cripple, without cultivation, was chosen as the Martial Saint's personal disciple?
Shouldn't that honor belong to his younger sister, Gu Lianqian?
Impossible!
All his life, Gu Yuandao's greatest pride had been becoming the Saint's true successor, the bearer of Righteous Qi of the Vast Heavens.
And now, that worthless brother had suddenly become the Martial Saint's disciple?
Then what had his years of diligence been for?
Meanwhile, Ning Caiyong, the one clutching Gu Fangchen's sleeve, was the only person who felt true relief.
She had never met the Martial Saint, but the Sword Pavilion's master had once met him and received instruction.
The Pavilion still kept a portrait of him to this day.
She didn't understand the ever-shifting power plays around them; she couldn't stop Gu Yuye's killing intent.
But she knew what the Martial Saint's recognition meant.
"Thank Heaven..."
Ning Caiyong's eyes shimmered, her chest tightening with an ache she couldn't name.
She looked at Gu Fangchen's profile, feeling both pride and loss.
The child she had always sheltered seemed suddenly grown, and she, his mother, seemed far less capable than she thought.
Her eyes lowered.
She had sworn to protect him from Gu Yuye, and yet in the end, he had still been forced to face it alone.
Gu Fangchen felt a gentle tug at his sleeve, as though she were urging him to leave.
He blinked, turned, and saw the top of her bowed head, a shadow of rain upon her crown.
He quietly released her sleeve.
Ning Caiyong hesitated, her hand half-lifting, then falling weakly back to her side.
Then Gu Fangchen reached out and caught her cool, slender fingers, firmly, unhesitatingly.
Ning Caiyong froze, then turned away shyly, lips pressed together.
This child...
Yet his hand only tightened further, his palm pressing warmly over hers.
"Then it seems tonight's misunderstanding is the Martial Saint's," Gu Yuye said evenly, folding his hands behind his back, setting the tone before anyone else could.
"I merely came on His Majesty's order to investigate whether my son had dealings with the Demon Sect. Who would have thought it would provoke the Martial Saint to intervene?"
"The investigation can be continued another time. For tonight, why not accompany me to the Prince's Mansion, Senior, and bring my son along for a talk?"
"That will not be possible, Your Highness."
A voice interrupted him.
A figure wrapped head to toe in a black cloak had appeared at the edge of the ferry.
The figure lifted her head, her entire face bound in white gauze, only her eyes visible, glowing molten gold and blooming with illusory lotus petals of light.
Everyone's pupils contracted.
A Xiyin Attendant!
The Tara Sect's three Xiyin Attendants were Princess Prajna's personal guards, high-ranking cultivators of at least Fourth Grade.
Why was one here?
The attendant bowed gracefully and said,
"Her Highness the Princess invites the Heir to White Horse Temple as her guest."