M49S Vol 1 Chapter 11. Strategic Discussion

Now that identities were laid bare, the two clever men stopped playing games. With no more need for pretense, matters could finally be put on the table. Their back-and-forth cut sharper than the swordplay earlier that day.

“Why hide your identity?” Chen Boyan asked.

“The world loves blaming Martial Uncle Zhou’s mess on me. The Grand Elder of the Wang clan holds a grudge against him. If he finds out I’m here, it’ll cause trouble.”

“What’s on the other side of the shadow wall?” Chen Boyan pressed.

“It’s a place exactly like this one. You’re from the Chen clan. You probably know more than I do. What do you think it is?”

Chen Boyan frowned. Instead of answering directly, he said, “There must be a third place.”

Meng Qiqi blinked, then chuckled. “Seems I got lucky then. I ended up here with you instead of wherever that unknown third place is. I did try just now, but the teleportation array inside the shadow wall won’t activate. Maybe I used the wrong method.”

“What about the bell?” Chen Boyan continued.

“Someone was ringing it from the other side. If that’s really what stirred the beasts, then they definitely know more about the secrets of this realm.”

“Did you see who it was?”

“No,” Meng Qiqi shook his head. “But it might be connected to our little Martial Uncle’s disappearance. Your Master probably never told you why I’ve really been wandering beyond the borders these past years, but that can wait. Right now, the Gushan Sword is in decline, and getting through the Knock Upon the Immortal Gate without incident is our top priority. We can’t let the sect’s name be ruined in our hands.”

“What do you plan to do, Little Martial Uncle?”

“Before anything else, there’s something very important I need to confirm.” Meng Qiqi suddenly leaned forward, closing the distance between them. “I’m your Little Martial Uncle. From this point on, you have to follow my orders. Understand?”

Chen Boyan sat upright, completely unbothered by how close Meng Qiqi had come. His gaze remained steady, eyes calmly studying Meng Qiqi as if trying to see through him.

After a pause, he gave a nod. “Understood.”

Meng Qiqi smiled, clearly pleased. He patted Xiao Yu’er. “Call him.”

Xiao Yu’er obediently called out, “Senior Brother.” He genuinely liked this senior brother. He looked quite good, too. Chen Boyan acknowledged the greeting, but a ripple stirred quietly in his heart.

Another one.

At this moment, Meng Qiqi was right in front of him, and he almost couldn’t stop himself from asking. Why wasn’t it me?

But Chen Boyan was not someone who acted on impulse. The words rose to his lips but he swallowed them silently. Just then, Xu Mengyin of Ruizhu came over. After a full day of fighting beasts, her robes were no longer as clean and refined as before, but there was still a cold brilliance between her brows. Her poise remained undiminished.

Her gaze passed over Meng Qiqi and landed directly on Chen Boyan. Her tone was unusually gentle. “Senior Brother Chen.”

“What is it?”

“Earlier, I was fortunate enough to be saved by you, and I came to offer thanks. These are some snacks I brought from my sect. I hope you won’t mind.” Xu Mengyin held out a small cloth bundle with both hands. When opened, layers of pastries were neatly arranged. There weren’t many, but they looked exquisite.

Meng Qiqi glanced at the embroidered handkerchief wrapping the pastries. Ruizhu Sect really was extravagant. Even their snack bundles used something that refined.

Chen Boyan remained unmoved. “It was nothing. You don’t need to thank me.”

Hearing that, Xu Mengyin knew he wouldn’t accept it today. Chen Boyan had always been firm in his decisions. Years spent cultivating alone on Gushan had left his eyes filled only with the sword. There was no room for anything else.

She had expected this outcome, so although she was slightly disappointed, she still carried herself with grace. She handed the pastries to Xiao Yu’er and said gently, “Then let this little young hero have them. Just some simple snacks, if he doesn’t mind.”

Xiao Yu’er looked up at his master, the eye exposed through his veil full of longing. Meng Qiqi didn’t think much of it. Let him have it. He was just a child after all.

After handing over the pastries, Xu Mengyin turned to the real matter at hand. With the beast rampage earlier, cultivators from every sect could no longer sit still. They had finally decided to convene and discuss a countermeasure. Xu Mengyin had volunteered to deliver the invitation.

“Senior Brother Chen, may I trouble you to join us?”

This was something Chen Boyan could no longer refuse. What surprised Xu Mengyin, however, was that the ordinary-looking rogue cultivator nearby followed along as well.

“This person is…?”

Meng Qiqi only smiled without answering. Chen Boyan spoke on his behalf. “A friend of mine. Xiao Yu’er, go find the senior brothers and sisters over there and wait for your master a moment, all right?”

Xiao Yu’er, his mouth still full of pastry, nodded at once and dashed off toward Song Ru and Mu Guinian.

Xu Mengyin grew even more suspicious. A friend? What sort of friend required even his disciple to be handed off for someone else to watch? What she didn’t know was that the disciples of Gushan Sword Sect were wondering the same. None of them knew Meng Qiqi’s true identity, and he had no intention of telling them yet. From their point of view, this sudden master-disciple pair couldn’t be anything but suspicious.

Senior Brother had just carried the man’s master and now was tossing the disciple their way to babysit. It was far too suspicious.

Song Ru and Mu Guinian studied Xiao Yu’er carefully. One looked solemn, the other expressionless. The more they thought about it, the less sense it made. Could this be the legendary Little Martial Uncle? But that man was supposed to be imposing, and this person looked plain as could be.

No, no. He definitely couldn’t be their Little Martial Uncle.

Xiao Yu’er looked from one to the other, then held out a pastry. “Do you want some too?”

Elsewhere in the main hall, Chen Boyan, Shen Qingya, Wang Ziqian, Xu Mengyin, and Master Yinian took up positions in the center to discuss plans for slaying the beasts. But while they called it a discussion, every person seated was a top talent from their respective sects. They might listen to others, but no one was about to follow orders.

Except when it came to Chen Boyan.

Had he been only the senior disciple of Gushan Sword Sect, it might not have carried such weight. But he was also the heir to the Chen clan.

There was a saying: where Cultivators gather, the Chen clan commands the field.

Though the Chen and Wang clans stood as equals on paper, the Chen clan had guarded Yin Mountain for generations. Their standing in the cultivation world was unmatched, and even under worldly royal rule, they commanded serious weight.

Yet Chen Boyan showed no intention of stepping into a leadership role.

“Brother Chen, what do you think…” Wang Ziqian still looked pale, the flush on his face lighter than the pearl set in his jade crown. It only made his refined air stand out more. As the Chen and Wang families had been close for generations, his way of addressing Chen Boyan differed from the rest.

Chen Boyan turned and looked across at Shen Qingya. “Brother Shen, what are your thoughts?”

“I would rather hear yours, Brother Chen,” Shen Qingya replied with a smile, gracefully deflecting the question.

Xu Mengyin also nodded in agreement. Technically, they were on Wang clan territory and should have deferred to the Wang family’s opinion first. But Wang Ziqian was too young, and Shen Qingya seemed far too mild. It was difficult to gauge his depth.

“Hold off. Don’t agree yet.”

The warning reached Chen Boyan’s ears just in time. Wrapped in a layer of internal force, Meng Qiqi’s voice was inaudible to anyone else. Chen Boyan had no idea what he was plotting now, but rather than let himself be pushed forward as the face of this gathering, he would rather take some time to understand Meng Qiqi first.

Chen Boyan said, “The Beidou has not yet returned. It’s better to wait until everyone is here.”

Everyone at the table knew there had been friction between Beidou and the Gushan Sword. So when Chen Boyan gave this reasoning, no one found it odd. Still, Xu Mengyin couldn’t help glancing once more at Meng Qiqi. What had he whispered to Senior Brother Chen just now? They seemed awfully familiar.

At the same time, along the mountain path where the rain poured down like sheets, Wang Ziling was panting as he followed behind Qing Gu, his entire body so cold he could barely feel his limbs.

He no longer remembered how he had managed to avoid the beasts and end up here, nor how far he had walked. He only remembered the sight of Chen Boyan flying through the air on his sword. Something in his head had gone hot, and he had followed.

“Great grandaunt, can we rest a little…” Wang Ziling could barely go on.

Qing Gu turned around and grabbed his hand. Her delicate face was pale, lips bloodless, but her eyes remained determined. “I’ll pull you along.”

She dragged him a bit farther, but Wang Ziling finally reached his limit. “I can’t—I can’t do this anymore. Let me go… I really can’t…”

Seeing the sorry state he was in, Qing Gu was both anxious and exasperated. She nearly stamped her foot in frustration. But the truth was, Wang Ziling’s cultivation was weak, and his body was heavy. Making it this far had already pushed him to his limit. Gritting her teeth, Qing Gu grabbed both his arms and hoisted him onto her back.

“I’ll carry you!”

But she was only fifteen years old, small and delicate. The moment she lifted him, her steps faltered, and she nearly tumbled down the mountain with him.

“Great grandaunt, please put me down!” Wang Ziling was terrified, his face going even paler. He squirmed, trying to get down, but Qing Gu held on tight.

“Don’t move!”

At her sharp shout, Wang Ziling froze in place, and Qing Gu finally managed to steady herself. She looked up at the firelight flickering in the rain and pressed her lips together, keeping her breath contained. Then, step by step, she began to carry Wang Ziling up the mountain.

She didn’t move quickly, but her steps were steady. Wang Ziling had no idea where this little tyrant of a girl got her strength. She had been running just as long as he had. She had been drenched just as thoroughly. So why was she still pushing herself this hard?

Whatever it was she was doing this for, was it worth it?

But Qing Gu had no time to answer that question. Being carried like this only made Wang Ziling feel worse, more ashamed by the minute. He looked back uneasily. The spot where he had stopped earlier was already far behind them.

“Alright, alright, let me down already,” Wang Ziling snapped. “I’ll walk on my own!”

“Really?” Qing Gu turned to look at him, her eyes full of disbelief.

Seeing the veins bulging in her neck, Wang Ziling felt even more guilty. A girl this age was supposed to be cute and dainty. This wasn’t a good look at all. He struggled off her back and, almost as if out of spite, started marching uphill in big, exaggerated strides.

He stomped along and cursed the whole way. He cursed his uncle, his grandmother, and even the vendor across from the prince’s manor for putting too little syrup on the candied hawthorn skewers. He ranted until he was out of breath, like an old duck wheezing through a bellows.

But he didn’t stop. If yelling helped him walk a little farther, then so be it.

Qing Gu stared, dumbfounded.

Master was right. This world truly was full of strange people.

---

The rain kept pouring down, and only grew heavier. In the forest, an unnatural wind began to howl. Soaked beasts raised their heads and let out eerie cries that echoed all the way into the fire-lit hall, disturbing the cultivators within as they meditated to recover their strength.

Just then, several figures came striding through the main doors, wind at their backs. The one in front was none other than Jiang Xie from Beidou. He had been gone for who knew how long, and only now did he reappear.

When Wang Ziqian saw him, he immediately sent someone to extend an invitation.

Jiang Xie was gracious enough to comply. He handed his soaked cloak to an attendant and strode forward. Wang Ziqian rose to greet him and gave a quick rundown of the current situation. But the moment Jiang Xie heard it, his sword-like brows shot up.

“So many cultivators gathered here, and we still hesitate? Tomorrow, we strike together and cut down the beasts. What’s the issue? Or does the Gushan Sword think it has something better to say?”

Xu Mengyin frowned slightly. “Brother Jiang, what makes you say that?”

“I think Brother Jiang has a point,” said a disciple from Wuhou Manor. “We cultivators are not common soldiers of the mortal world. There’s no need for rigid formations or tactics. Everyone here, including Brother Chen, is an elite in their own right. Even if each group acts independently, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Seeing that the discussion was going nowhere, Meng Qiqi sat quietly behind Chen Boyan and murmured to him, “Beidou and the Wang clan have something going on. They’re not as reckless or brainless as they pretend to be. The ones who started trouble with you at Chanhua Tower were probably pushed forward by the Wang clan.”

Chen Boyan listened without changing expression. Meng Qiqi went on, “The Wang clan has gotten greedy in recent years, especially since that old bastard Wang Jing became Grand Elder. He backed Wang Changlin into power, and now he’s set his sights on Gushan Sword. I can say with certainty that if I showed my face alone, he’d find a way to have me killed inside the secret realm.”

His tone was cold as ice, his killing intent entirely unconcealed.

Chen Boyan’s brow shifted slightly, but he didn’t seem put off. It was only when he caught the brief exchange of glances between Shen Qingya and Meng Qiqi that something unfamiliar rose in his chest. Surprise, and… displeasure.

It was a strange kind of displeasure, with no real cause. He didn’t dislike Shen Qingya, and he certainly didn’t resent Meng Qiqi. In the end, he could only arrive at one absurd conclusion. He didn’t like it when Meng Qiqi talked to him with his attention divided.

But Chen Boyan hid it too well. Neither Shen Qingya nor Meng Qiqi noticed a thing.

Shen Qingya withdrew his gaze and spoke, cutting through the conversation. “Since this is the Wang clan’s secret realm, perhaps we should ask Young Master Wang what he proposes.”

All eyes turned to Wang Ziqian. A flicker of concealed surprise passing through his eyes. He clearly hadn’t expected Shen Qingya to pass the floor to him. But the surprise vanished quickly. With humility, he cupped his hands toward the group and said, “My cultivation is lacking, so I have no great proposals. But have all of you perhaps forgotten the matter of the Ten Thousand Sword Vault?”

The Ten Thousand Sword Vault? How could anyone forget. But its appearance was so rare and unpredictable that no one had brought it up.

Wang Ziqian took a deep breath and sat up straighter. “Actually, I have an idea, though I’m not sure whether it will work. One of the techniques in the Gushan Sword Manual is called ‘Ten Thousand Swords Return to One.’ When cultivated to perfection, it can trigger resonance among all swords. If everyone cooperates, the effect would be overwhelming.”

“You mean… use that to draw out the Ten Thousand Sword Vault?” Jiang Xie asked in a low voice.

“Yes. If it doesn’t work the first time, then try again.” Wang Ziqian grew more animated, a flush of color rising on his pale cheeks. “Brother Chen possesses a natural sword body. Even if his mastery of the technique isn’t complete, the chance of triggering resonance is still high.”

Countless eyes swept toward the sword scar on Chen Boyan’s brow. How had they all forgotten there was a sword prodigy right in front of them?

For a moment, tempted by the prospect of the Ten Thousand Sword Vault, everyone seriously considered Wang Ziqian’s proposal. But the thought of cooperating with Chen Boyan posed a challenge. Each of them used their own natal sword. Giving up control to synchronize with someone else was not a simple matter.

Wang Ziqian, however, stood up. His gaze was firm. “If everyone agrees, I’ll be the first to represent the Wang clan in support of Brother Chen. I believe in his character.”

The hall fell silent.

Meng Qiqi sat behind Chen Boyan, idly toying with a string of black beads. In a voice only Chen Boyan could hear, he murmured, “First he offers a strategy to win everyone over, then presents it like a favor to the group. He sits there all upright and diligent, and now he finishes it off with a heartfelt speech. Moved yet, dear nephew?”

Chen Boyan gave a helpless glance and finally replied, “Don’t mock me, Little Martial Uncle.”

Meng Qiqi didn’t laugh out loud. But inside, he was laughing plenty. His gaze drifted across the room at those whose expressions had begun to waver, who were already murmuring their willingness to cooperate. The laughter in his heart deepened.

“Fangjun really is pitiful, shoved onto the stage like a duck to slaughter.” Meng Qiqi leaned in toward his ear, a slow smile curling on his lips. “Don’t worry. Your little Martial Uncle will help you get even.”

The warmth of Meng Qiqi’s breath brushed behind Chen Boyan’s ear, sending a faint tingle through him.

Chen Boyan didn’t turn, but he could easily picture how close Meng Qiqi was at that moment. So this was the infamous Little Martial Uncle of Gushan Sword. Unruly, to say the least.

Strangely, though, he didn’t find it unpleasant.

A loud thud suddenly came from outside the hall. Something heavy had landed. Several people stood up and looked outside.

A man and a woman had fallen from a flying sword and were now lying in the rain, soaked and bedraggled.

Song Ru recognized the girl immediately as the new junior sister and rushed out. She lifted the young woman in her arms, and when everyone finally saw the man’s face clearly, the atmosphere turned heavy.

It was Wang Ziling, the legitimate heir of the Wang clan.

Several people turned to look at Wang Ziqian. His face, which had just regained a hint of color, turned pale once again.

Wang Ziqian noticed the shift in attention. He quickly forced a polite smile and ordered people to carry the now-exhausted Wang Ziling inside.

Wang Ziling’s lips were trembling. It was hard to tell whether it was from cold or sheer exhaustion.

“Quick, check if my cousin is injured,” Wang Ziqian said, gripping his arm tightly. His concern looked entirely sincere.

But then Meng Qiqi spoke, and the words froze him in place.

“Young Master Wang, this must be the true heir of the Wang clan. Forgive me for asking, but now that the real heir is here, does your earlier promise to speak on behalf of the entire clan still stand?”