HCAW 109

Chapter 109: Not My Own Will

In that instant, a flood of dazzling, fragmented visions surged through Fang Jingyu’s mind. He saw waves rolling for a thousand li, white as snow, and beyond the sea, an expanse of vast land. At times, banners fluttered and war drums thundered; at times, the emperor toured in splendor and sovereigns gathered in majesty. In spring, orioles chirped and swallows danced, flowers bloomed in wild profusion; in autumn, rice fields rippled golden, taro leaves were green, and pomegranates shone red. Among it all, people bustled with joy written on their faces.

He vaguely sensed that this was the Nine Provinces—the paradise the people of Xian Mountain had long sought but never reached.

Ever since Xiao Jiao had entered his ear, a hot current had surged through his body. Every inch of his skin felt like it had grown countless eyes, taking in the affairs of the world, seeing across ten thousand li.

At the same time, he could sense where those who had consumed “Immortal Elixir”—those with the Great Immortal’s flesh and blood in their veins—were now located. Slowly, Fang Jingyu began to understand why so many coveted the power of the Great Immortal: it allowed one to grasp all things and see through past and present.

The guards knelt and bowed, or slowly retreated. Fang Jingyu, dragging his bleeding body, walked forward—but just then, a figure stood in his way.

It was Gu Bi Guard, hands behind his back. The astonishment that had once shown on his face when Fang Jingyu revealed Yonghe’s power had long since faded. Now he smiled gently. “Little brother, where do you plan to go?”

Fang Jingyu halted.

Gu Bi Guard’s expression turned icy. “Once, with the Great Immortal’s power, you could have come and gone freely among ten thousand horsemen. But this is Daiyu—my domain. The Great Immortal has slept too long. You no longer know that this world now belongs to me.” He spread his arms and smiled warmly, then gave an order to the guards: “Men, heed not the so-called ‘Great Immortal Yonghe.’ Deafen your ears!”

Suddenly, the guards’ eyes went blank once more. One by one, they drew spikes from their belts—sharp blades aimed at their own ears—and stabbed down mercilessly! A chorus of tearing flesh rang out; blood sprayed like scattered pearls. Fang Jingyu stared, aghast, watching them mutilate themselves in eerie unison. With their eardrums pierced, the echo of Xiao Jiao’s words could reach them no more.

Without delay, the guards raised their weapons and charged again. Fang Jingyu did his best to parry, but blood loss had left him heavy and slow. He muttered to Xiao Jiao in his ear:

“Xiao Jiao, they can’t hear your divine words anymore. Do you have anything else?”

Xiao Jiao panicked. “If they’ve deafened themselves, my voice can’t reach their minds! I only just woke up—my divine power’s still too weak, I really have nothing else…”

Fang Jingyu said grimly, “Fine. I knew you were a useless immortal.”

“I’m not useless!” Xiao Jiao shouted from inside his ear, then angrily bit his ear. Her noisy fuss made his head throb.

Fang Jingyu charged headlong through the crowd, relying on brute force to break through. But just as he neared the gate—

Countless black tentacles lashed out from the darkness and sank deep into his flesh!

He cried out in pain. Whipping his head around, he saw Gu Bi Guard’s robes split open—iron-barbed tentacles writhing from within. So he, too, was just a monster wrapped in human skin. The moment the tentacles pierced Fang Jingyu, his ears rang violently. Gu Bi Guard’s gentle voice sounded in his mind like a god speaking from the heavens:

“You’ve been taken over by the Great Immortal, little brother—your mind is corrupted. Let me help purify you, cleanse your soul.”

Suddenly, a thousand icy needles pierced through Fang Jingyu from within. Gu Bi Guard’s consciousness stabbed into his mind like a dagger. The chill turned to searing flame, scorching his very organs as if trying to melt him down completely. Fang Jingyu collapsed, panting like a beast, sweat pouring from him in sheets.

From inside his ear, Xiao Jiao screamed, “Tight-lipped gourd, we’re done for!”

Fang Jingyu couldn’t respond. He felt as if he were plunging into a sea of fire, his muscles shattered by wind and thunder. Xiao Jiao cried in panic:

“His tentacles are laced with fire poison! They’re burning through your body and soul!”

Fang Jingyu gasped, struggling to breathe. The tentacles burrowed deeper into his flesh, a scalding torrent bursting through his insides. His iron bones only grew hotter under heat, threatening to shatter him from within. Xiao Jiao poured all her power into cooling the blaze, but it was like a cup of water on a bonfire. His veins bulged, and he convulsed on the ground. In that moment of agony, he would rather tear his own bones out than let them boil inside his body.

“Just a little more…” Gu Bi Guard’s voice rang beside his ear, pleased and expectant. “And you’ll be mine to command, Your Majesty.”

In a flash, the black tentacles struck again—blood burst forth like a fountain! Fang Jingyu howled. Sparks burst across his vision, demon whispers curled around his ears. The world turned to haze. He plummeted into the dark.

But just then—

A silver streak split the night sky, piercing straight toward Gu Bi Guard.

It was an arrow—shot with flawless precision in the dark, slamming directly into Gu Bi Guard’s eye! A piercing scream tore through the night. The tentacles wrapped around Fang Jingyu loosened. Gu Bi Guard staggered back, clutching his bleeding eye.

A warhorse crashed through the crowd. Fang Jingyu felt his arm seized and his body hoisted onto the saddle. As he struggled to sit upright, he saw a lean, powerful back in front of him—the rider nocked another arrow with graceful ease. Their bow, though slender, shimmered with phosphorescent light under the moon. Fang Jingyu murmured:

“…Chu Kuang…”

The newcomer was indeed Chu Kuang. His lips were pressed tightly, and his side profile, like veined marble, gleamed pale and unyielding under the moonlight. He didn’t speak—only spurred his horse into a breakthrough, charging from the royal manor while loosing arrows from his bow. The white-feathered shafts shrieked like hawks as they dove toward the enemy. In the moonless dark, not one missed its mark. Fang Jingyu clung weakly to his shoulder and murmured, “You… really came.”

It was clear Chu Kuang had made preparations in advance: his quiver was neatly packed, and his arrow case ready. He’d even scouted out the strongest of the royal stables’ horses—the swift steed known as Tianma—to be used in case of escape.

“Exactly because I always come, Your Highness dares to throw yourself into danger again and again,” Chu Kuang said coldly. “If you keep pulling stunts like this, next time, I won’t come to save you.”

“Then… we’ll talk next time.”

Fang Jingyu had wanted to tease him, but one glance at his grim face made him swallow the thought. Behind them, Gu Bi Guard’s followers fell one after another. Chu Kuang held a handful of arrows and launched his Seven-Star In A Row technique, loosing shots so fast and precise he hardly needed to aim—yet each hit true.

Suddenly, a massive black shadow emerged from the night. Gu Bi Guard, hands still folded behind his back, floated eerily in midair. Tentacles writhed beneath him like spider legs. He quickly caught up to the fleeing pair and called out to Chu Kuang with a grin:

“How loyal the Tianfu Guard is! Always rushing to rescue His Majesty—you’re practically joined at the hip!”

Chu Kuang gave no reply. He loosed several arrows, but this time Gu Bi Guard was ready. His tentacles darted through the air and caught each shaft with ease. He sneered, “Trying to shake the heavens like an ant. How did you ever earn the title of Tianfu? Emperor Bai must have been blind. In terms of strength and power, I now far surpass what you once were!”

“I don’t know why you’re clinging to old grudges,” Chu Kuang replied coolly, loosing another arrow like thunder, “but I do know it’s rude to keep calling people by the wrong name. The two of us—are neither Emperor Bai nor his Tianfu Guard. We’re just two sea-faring strangers passing through Daiyu.”

Gu Bi Guard smiled faintly and didn’t argue further. Suddenly, he opened his mouth and burst a strange sound.

It was like temple bells and war drums booming in one’s ears. Chu Kuang broke into a cold sweat. Darkness clouded his vision, his head throbbed like pins piercing his skull.

He immediately understood—this must be what the Gu Bi Guard used to command others. Having consumed too much Immortal Elixir, he was particularly susceptible to its influence. But he had endured being gutted once before—he could bear this. Steeling his will, he forced the demonic sound out of his mind. Gu Bi Guard was surprised to see his expression pale but still unbroken. With a growl, he launched his tentacles toward Chu Kuang.

“Watch out!” Fang Jingyu cried, drenched in cold sweat. He had already been attacked once and knew how terrifying those tentatcles were.

But to his shock, Chu Kuang opened his mouth—and bit down hard on the incoming tentacle! Agonizing pain surged through Gu Bi Guard. His face twisted, and he hastily drew his limbs back, only to find the tip had already been bitten clean off.

Chu Kuang grinned provocatively. “Sir, your ‘Immortal Elixir’ tastes absolutely foul. I suppose when the heart is rotten, even the flesh is hard to swallow.”

Gu Bi Guard seemed to seethe. His face was lost in shadow, but the sound of grinding teeth echoed ominously. By now, the two riders had reached the main streets. Though it was late and quiet, the broad avenues were beginning to fill with people.

Drawn by some unseen force, commoners poured from their homes—tools and shovels in hand, eyes glowing black as they rushed at the riders. From afar, the street looked like a churning sea of heads.

Fang Jingyu’s heart leapt to his throat. He asked Xiao Jiao, “Can you make them move aside?”

“No! I’ve been trying since earlier, but nothing works. They only obey Gu Bi Guard!”

Chu Kuang said nothing, but suddenly reached for the longbow strapped to his waist.

It was a yewwood warbow, decorated with gold and silver, glimmering like dewdrops. A gift from the Ruyi Guard—this was the Daqu Bow, far more powerful than his usual one. Its string was taut and its draw weight tremendous. Chu Kuang drew it like a full moon, and with a sharp twang, released a barrage of arrows. Each one sliced through the crowd like jade dragons, clearing a path through the sea of people. His steed leapt forward, hooves pounding. Under the silver moonlight, his silhouette shone like a war god descending to earth.

The crowd parted under his momentum—but quickly surged back. Arms flailed, eyes glowed, mouths mumbled in unison like corpses dancing. It was clear they had all eaten Gu Bi Guard’s “Immortal Elixir,” making them susceptible to his control. Suddenly, a hail of stones flew like a swarm of locusts. Chu Kuang’s arrows could not stop them all. Gritting his teeth, he turned and shielded Fang Jingyu with his body.

Fang Jingyu, already covered in wounds and too weak to move, now heard the sickening thud of rocks pounding flesh. Chu Kuang’s arms trembled violently as stone edges tore his skin. Blood dripped steadily onto Fang Jingyu’s face—each drop cutting like a knife to the heart. Looking up, he saw Chu Kuang’s pained expression, and a thought streaked through his mind like lightning:

Why is he doing this for me? Why does he risk everything, again and again, to protect me?

Chu Kuang had once claimed to be a secret guard planted by the Langgan Guard to protect him—but who knew if that was true? Even a loyal guard would have some reason for giving their life. But Chu Kuang… had never once needed a reason.

There was no time to think further. The crowd surged again, swinging clubs. Amid the storm of stones, Fang Jingyu heard bones crack—and Chu Kuang’s pained, labored breathing. Struggling, he whispered to Xiao Jiao:

“Use your divine power… on Chu Kuang. He’s more hurt than I am…”

Chu Kuang muttered, “Don’t bother. I’m not as delicate as His Highness.” Then added quietly, “Your Highness—lend me your sword.”

Suddenly, Fang Jingyu felt the weight lift from his waist as Chu Kuang drew the Hanguang Sword. Its blade shimmered like stars and frost. The air around it turned sharp as autumn water. Each slash burst with fury like thunder—this was the sword move “An Inch of Gold”; then came another, graceful as wind and rain—“Frost in the Courtyard.” Deep in enemy lines, Chu Kuang faced a horde alone, executing each move with flawless precision.

This was Fang family swordsmanship.

Fang Jingyu had once seen it on Zhenhai Pass, wielded by the Langgan Guard. He had memorized its forms but could only imitate the basics. Chu Kuang had once used it too, claiming to have merely copied the Langgan Guard—but Fang Jingyu knew: such mastery could not be faked. Only through years of blood, sweat, and dedication could one achieve this.

A memory flashed in his mind—ten years ago at the Fang residence. Beneath a holly tree, a dashing young man in an embroidered robe danced with a blade, as elegant as jade. In that moment, Fang Jingyu’s lips moved. He wanted to call out:

“Brother Minsheng…”

But no sound came. Something like a splinter caught in his throat. His body burned hot. The world spun wildly. Whispering voices filled his ears. He felt as if his body no longer belonged to him. His hand moved—slowly, involuntarily—reaching for the dagger at his waist. It was the Heavenly Mountain gold knife Chu Kuang had once favored. Fang Jingyu had picked it up from the beach and carried it with him ever since.

Then—Gu Bi Guard’s voice rang out, as if coming from inside his skull, dripping with amusement:

“Your Majesty… can you hear me now?”

Fang Jingyu broke into a cold sweat. His heart thundered in his chest. He felt an invisible hand grip his wrist. His movements were no longer his own. Earlier, when Gu Bi Guard had pierced him with a tentacle, he’d planted a thread of his consciousness inside him. Now, that will was taking hold.

Chu Kuang rode ahead, his back exposed, completely unguarded.

Fang Jingyu watched, horrified, as his own hand raised, trembling. The dagger’s tip pointed straight at Chu Kuang’s back.

Gu Bi Guard’s voice echoed in his mind—unyielding, absolute:

“Obey me. Kill the Tianfu Guard. Drive that blade through his heart.”