M49S Vol 1 Chapter 4. Mad Dog

The next morning, as the sun rose in the east, light spread across the vast, misty waters of Mochou Lake.

Outside the Chanhua tower, a long wooden walkway stretched over the lake, vanishing into the morning haze. Young cultivators had gathered early, lining up along the path, though none dared to step into the mist-covered waters beyond.

At the first quarter of the morning hour, a massive riverboat approached from the east. The sharp-eyed among them quickly spotted the emblem of the Wang clan of Langya fluttering from the mast, along with several female cultivators standing on deck, their white robes fluttering in the breeze.

“They’re from Ruizhu. So they really did stay at the Wang residence last night. No wonder we didn’t see any of them in the pavilion.”

“What do you expect? Lady Wang was once a disciple of Ruizhu sect.”

While soft murmurs spread among the crowd, the boat came to a smooth stop at the dock.

One by one, the women descended from the deck. Their long black hair was tied back with silver crowns, not a single strand out of place. Their white robes were clean-cut and sharp, designed for function more than beauty. Silver-threaded belts wrapped neatly around their waists, and every one of them carried a sword. They moved with disciplined grace, striking in presence and no less imposing than their male counterparts.

The gathered cultivators bowed as they passed. Following the women were the elders and leaders from each sect, all arriving to take part in the assembly.

The Wang clan’s patriarch, Wang Changlin, came last, accompanied by Lady Wang and several senior elders of the Wang family. Dressed in fine robes and jeweled sashes, they looked every bit like high nobility from the mortal world.

Wang Changlin was thirty-nine this year, still in his prime. He wore a fine beard and was considered a rare kind of handsome man. His manner was bold and generous, though he had a fondness for long speeches. On an occasion like today’s grand gathering, he paid special attention to ornate phrasing and balanced couplets, always aiming for something elegant, expressive, and moving to the ear.

Tu Youqiong stood behind Chen Boyan, watching his senior brother, who stood upright like a pine tree. He couldn’t help reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Not far away, Wang Ziling stood behind Wang Changlin, also looking uncomfortable. His uncle valued form and ceremony above all, but today’s new ceremonial robes were far too tight for comfort.

“…Assembled here to knock upon the immortal gate. May each of you seize your chance and let this journey not be for naught.” At last, Wang Changlin brought his lengthy opening remarks to an end with a blessing, then raised his hand in a grand gesture.

“Open the Immortal Gate.”

As soon as the words fell, drums thundered from both shores of the lake. It was impossible to tell how many drummers had been hidden within the morning mist. The sound rolled across the water like crashing waves. Even those who had been half asleep instantly snapped to attention. Even Wang Ziling, who normally longed for a more mundane life, felt a surge of heat rise in his blood.

In the cultivation world, the great sects often possessed their own secret realms, spiritual domains that existed beyond the mortal world. These places could not be accessed by ordinary means. They had to be opened with specific techniques. Within each of these realms flowed a denser concentration of spiritual energy, rare treasures of heaven and earth, and a vast number of fierce and deadly beasts.

The purpose of the Knock Upon the Immortal Gate was to temper and test its participants. Promising young cultivators from across the realm gathered to enter the realm together, to face beasts by the thousands, and to search for fortune and enlightenment through battle.

At that moment, Wang Changlin raised a palm, sized black jade tablet and threw it into the air. Behind him, five elders of the Wang clan stepped forward and formed a loose circle. Each raised one hand in a sealing gesture and cast spiritual power with the other. Six streams of energy, including Wang Changlin’s, surged toward the floating tablet.

The jade tablet hovered in the air, glowing with a smooth black luster. As the drums continued, the mist above the lake began to recede at a speed visible to the naked eye. A long corridor emerged, stretching over the surface of the water, as if it had no end.

Sweat formed at the temples of the five elders, though Wang Changlin remained calm throughout. Once the tablet’s glow dimmed, he drew his hand back and retrieved it. His expression was unchanged as he turned with a graceful gesture.

“Please proceed.”

The corridor extended far ahead, with mist still curling on either side. The surface of the water remained hidden, and there was no telling what moved below. After walking for about the time it took for an incense stick to burn, the group finally arrived at their destination.

It was a round platform resting atop the water, vast and open, its edges vanishing into the mist. At its center stood a towering stone statue, far larger than it first appeared, even taller than Chanhua Tower itself. Anyone standing beside it would be struck at once by their own insignificance.

“That’s the Immortal Chanhua?” Tu Youqiong asked Dai Xiaoshan quietly.

“Yes.” Dai Xiaoshan looked up at the statue of the immortal woman, who stood poised in silence, fingers pinched delicately around a flower. She looked as if she might soar into the sky at any moment. Even Dai Xiaoshan could not help feeling admiration for such a legendary figure.

Just then, Mu Guinian, the usually silent disciple of Gushan Sword, suddenly spoke.

“How could a lifeless stone statue ever be a true stand-in for her?”

Dai Xiaoshan and Tu Youqiong were both surprised. They hadn’t expected Mu Guinian to hold such admiration for Immortal Chanhua. Yet after saying that one line, he fell quiet again. No matter how they asked, he said nothing more.

Chen Boyan, still thinking about the absent Little Martial Uncle, glanced around the platform. He saw no sign of the people from Tianlao Sect. Just moments ago they had been walking behind the group. Why hadn’t they arrived yet?

Before he could think further, a cheerful voice broke his focus.

“Junior Brother!”

Junior Brother?

Chen Boyan turned. The members of Tianlao Sect were just now arriving from the mist, and the one Qing Gu had called out to with such joy was a handsome young man walking at the center of their group.

Qing Gu rushed over. “Why are you only arriving now, Junior Brother? And Brother Qingya too, it’s been so long!”

Shen Qingya smiled warmly. “It really has been a while. Looks like Qing Gu has grown into a proper young lady.”

“No I haven’t. I’m still young,” she said with a shy flush spreading across her cheeks. For a moment she forgot herself, then quickly remembered the situation and tugged her junior brother over to introduce him to the stunned disciples of Gushan.

“This is Junior Brother Xiao Xiao.”

Xiao Xiao gave a composed bow. “Greetings, senior brothers. My master is Meng Xiu. He sends his regards to all of you.”

“Junior Brother?” Tu Youqiong stared in disbelief. So did the other Gushan disciples. Even Chen Boyan stood in silence, the only sound in his mind a string of questions he could not answer.

Only three years had passed. And yet Meng Qiqi already had two disciples.

Tu Youqiong wasn’t sure why, but he found his senior brother a little frightening at that moment. He shrank his neck and glanced toward the members of Tianlao Sect as they walked past.

At the front was Shen Qingya, who gave them a polite nod. His manner remained gentle, but he kept a distance from everyone and claimed a quiet corner of the platform for himself, giving off an air of detachment from the world.

On the opposite side of the platform, the scattered cultivators had begun to gather.

Among them was a one-eyed boy speaking in a low voice to his companion. “Master, why do you keep sending our senior brothers and sisters over one by one? Wouldn’t it be better to act together?”

His master leaned lazily against the railing and replied with no sense of urgency, “Because I don’t like the look of your eldest senior brother. I want to piss him off.”

“Oh.” The boy recalled something his master had said in the past. After thinking for a moment, he asked, “Then why not just send them all over at once?”

“To get under someone’s skin, you need to do it properly. There’s a method. You have to pace it. You think Zhou Yu ¹Zhou Yu (周瑜)
A famous general and strategist of Eastern Wu during the Three Kingdoms perioddied of anger in just one round?” His master spoke with conviction.

The boy’s eyes lit up. “I understand now.”

The master gave him a firm pat on the head. “Good kid. You’re getting there.”

And who was this master?

It was Meng Qiqi.

Just then, Wang Changlin’s voice rang out clearly. “The entrance lies within the statue. Anyone aged twenty-five or younger may enter. The secret realm is full of danger and deadly threats. I urge all participating cultivators to cooperate and fight bravely. Are you ready?”

As his words faded, the crowd stirred with rising energy. Wang Changlin swept his gaze across the platform with satisfaction. The fine beard on his face shifted slightly as his expression turned solemn.

“You may proceed.”

The drums sounded again, this time as the rhythm of battle. The quick, thunderous beats surged through the crowd, stirring their blood. One after another, cultivators gripped their swords tightly and charged into the hidden entrance behind the statue. Each figure vanished in a flash of light.

What awaited them was a world completely different from the mortal realm. It was a place overflowing with bloodshed and opportunity. Here, they would write new chapters, forge new legends.

What utter bullshit.

That was Wang Ziling’s true thought as he was dragged along with the Wang clan’s group into the secret realm, watching the excited faces around him.

With a loud splash, the space beyond the statue did not open onto some grand plain but dropped them directly into the cold bottom of a lake. Before any of them could catch the first breath of mystical wind, they were soaked to the bone. As each of them scrambled out of the water, panting and sputtering, the first thing they saw were massive bronze eyes of the beasts that had been drinking quietly by the lakeside.

Worse still, everyone had been scattered. The secret realm was covered in lakes, large and small, numbering easily in the hundreds.

A cold wind swept across the dark terrain. Wet robes clung to their skin like iron plates. The beasts growled low in their throats, sizing up the unfamiliar intruders. Their calls echoed across the lake, summoning more of their kind. In this shadowed land, they were the silent rulers. No outsider was welcome here.

Only now did the cultivators begin to understand what Wang Changlin had meant when he said the realm was filled with danger.

No one knew who drew their weapon first, but in the blink of an eye, blades and sword light filled the air in all directions.

A young cultivator with a baby face burst out of the water, let out a wild scream, and started swinging madly. His attacks had no pattern or form, but somehow struck down the beast charging straight at him. The creature’s blood splashed across his face. It was hot and stank of rot.

He gasped for breath, eyes wide in shock, but his grip on the sword only grew tighter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of his companions at the same lake being attacked by two beasts. His steps faltered for a moment, then he rushed forward.

Wang Ziling, meanwhile, felt like the unluckiest man alive. He was the only person in his lake.

So he slowed his breathing and carefully floated on the surface, making no move to climb ashore.

If the choice was between becoming a dead young master torn apart and devoured until not even bones remained, or a cowardly young master who was still alive, he would take the second option every time.

Not far off, by another small lake, the scene was entirely different.

A plain, ring-hilted saber pierced straight into the beast’s gaping mouth, stabbing through its skull in an instant. Its wielder turned smoothly, pulled the blade free, and struck hard into the side of another charging beast nearby.

His movements were simple and direct. Every strike was either a chop or a thrust, nothing fancy. Yet each one landed clean, driving the beasts back again and again.

There were two people at this location. The second fought in an entirely different way.

Not a single drop of blood had touched his sky-blue robes. He formed a sword seal with his fingers, and the glow on his blade surged. Dozens of flying swords burst out in a fan-shaped sweep, slicing through the air and tearing into the surrounding beasts. Cries of pain rang from all directions.

The two fought independently, but both were fast and efficient. In less than a moment, every beast near this small lakeside was cut down.

Chen Boyan sheathed his sword and looked toward the young man across from him. His hair had come loose, his robes were stained, yet he looked perfectly composed. In fact, his unnatural calm carried something unsettling.

The man crossed his arms, met Chen Boyan’s gaze, and tilted his head slightly with a raised brow.

“Have you looked enough?”

“And you are?” Chen Boyan asked. It was no surprise he didn’t recognize him. Meng Qiqi had altered his appearance.

Meng Qiqi raised his brow. “I have no name. I go by Mad Dog.”

The kind that bites upright gentlemen like you.

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  Zhou Yu (周瑜)
  A famous general and strategist of Eastern Wu during the Three Kingdoms period