M49S Vol 1 Chapter 48. A Token Of Love

The masked man’s name was Qu Ping. At this moment, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of humiliation. He wanted nothing more than to cut Meng Qiqi down with a single stroke. But he couldn’t, and that only made him feel more aggrieved.

When Meng Qiqi shifted slightly and “accidentally” redirected an assassin’s strike toward him again, Qu Ping finally had no choice but to reveal Wuyan’s location in exchange for Meng Qiqi’s cooperation.

He told the truth. In such urgent circumstances, he had neither the time nor the presence of mind to invent a lie.

Meng Qiqi wasted no time. His Xiujian pierced cleanly through the back of one black-clad assassin. As he withdrew the blade, he caught Qu Ping’s guarded expression and calmly reassured him, “Don’t worry. I, Meng Xiu, never go back on my word.”

Qu Ping had no choice but to believe him. The two of them joined forces and, within moments, carved a path of blood.

The fine drizzle suddenly turned to heavy rain.

Corpses lay strewn across the ground, limbs twisted and lifeless. Blood soaked the stone-paved path, flowing into the cracks and then into the river. Two waves of assassins had come, numbering several dozen in total. Even so, they had failed to stop Meng Qiqi and Qu Ping.

By the time one incense stick had burned, the last assassin fell, and the rest finally withdrew.

Meng Qiqi crouched down to examine one of the corpses, hoping to find some clue, perhaps a tattoo, or a token of identity.

But the assassin’s body was completely bare. No markings, no tokens, nothing that could confirm an identity. From behind him, Qu Ping scoffed at Meng Qiqi’s unnecessary efforts. “Anyone bold enough to kill in broad daylight in the middle of Jinling would never leave behind anything traceable.”

“Then what would Brother Jin suggest?” Meng Qiqi asked in return.

Qu Ping had no suggestions. His soaked black robes clung to his body, and the white mask on his face showed no emotion, only an intense scrutiny. He stood there in the rain, gripping the sword that had just tasted countless lives, staring at Meng Qiqi.

It seemed he was weighing whether or not to strike.

In the end, he didn’t. He said nothing, simply turned and walked away.

The ambush here had, for now, come to an end. But over at the dueling terrace at the heart of the lake, the storm of thunder and lightning was far from finished.

Xiao Yu’er and Tu Youqiong had each drawn nine bolts of lightning, putting them temporarily in first place. But to Tu Youqiong’s dismay, his junior brother was still full of energy after being struck, while he himself had nearly collapsed. Xiao Yu’er hadn’t cried, so he had to force his own tears back, eyes red and pitiful beyond words.

The thunder-forging technique had shown strong results, but none had yet managed to break through a realm as Wang Ziling had.

By the afternoon, the top disciples from several major sects who had been holding back, finally began to act. Having spent more time comprehending the technique, they naturally demonstrated far more powerful results when they did make their moves.

Among them, the most impressive were Beidou’s Jiang Xie and the Wang family’s Wang Zi’an.

When Jiang Xie arrived in Jinling, he had already reached minor perfection of the second realm. After passing through the secret realm and attending the Lion Banquet, he had been stuck just short of the breakthrough to major perfection, teetering on the edge but unable to push through. Today, with the chance to temper himself under heavenly thunder, he became the second person after Wang Ziling to break through.

As for Wang Zi’an, though he did not break through a realm, the thunder he summoned was no less impressive than Wang Ziling’s. Wang Ziling had genuinely never seen the Wind and Thunder Technique before, but Wang Zi’an had. As early as half a year ago, Wang Jing had ordered him to begin cultivating it. He had not understood the reason back then, but now, everything was clear.

Wang Zi’an disdained the idea of winning through such methods, but he had no way to speak the truth in front of everyone. So he stood beneath the open sky and took on eighteen strikes of heavenly lightning, one after another, letting himself be buried in that blinding storm. The pain tore through him, but it also freed him, if only briefly, from the inner turmoil he could not resolve.

By contrast, Wang Ziqian, who had also started studying the Wind and Thunder Technique half a year in advance, had far less success. His aptitude was poor and his meridians narrow. If he tried to draw lightning, the pain he would endure would be many times worse than that of others.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle the pain. He simply knew that no matter how hard he tried, he could never achieve the same staggering effect as Wang Ziling. He wouldn’t be able to break through two realms and shock the crowd. Nor could he summon enough lightning to take the lead. He was caught in between. Not strong enough to stand out, yet not weak enough to be ignored. No amount of effort could change that.

His lips tightened. Beneath his sleeves, his fists slowly curled.

What he lacked was a single opportunity. Once he entered Gu Shutong’s tutelage and improved his fundamental aptitude, he was certain he would be second to none.

Absolutely certain.

He looked up toward the seventh floor. At some point, Gu Shutong had appeared at Wang Changlin’s side. Though his expression showed no joy, and he merely nodded blandly as Wang Changlin spoke to him, no one could ignore the implications of his presence.

Neither Gu Shutong nor Lu Yunting had ever taken on a disciple. So what was Gu Shutong doing at the Knock upon the Immortal Gate? Could it be that he had come to…

“Gu Xiu,” Wang Jing said with a dark expression, “I invited you to speak with me this morning. Why did you refuse? Do you look down on me?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Gu Shutong replied with a respectful bow. His tone carried the proper courtesy, but he offered no explanation.

Wang Jing, naturally, was not going to let it slide. But Wang Changlin stepped in at just the right moment, moving to stand between them. “Elder,” he said, “our guest has just arrived. Perhaps Brother Gu was delayed by something. There’s no need to take offense.”

“Oh?” Wang Jing gave a cold laugh, his anger buried beneath the surface. “Are you saying that I, the Wang family’s Grand Elder, don’t have the right to welcome a guest?”

That remark caused murmurs to ripple through the gathered crowd. It seemed the relationship between the Wang clan’s patriarch and the Elders was not as harmonious as it appeared. This was an unexpected revelation.

“Elder, you misunderstand,” Wang Changlin said, cursing the old fool silently even as he maintained a respectful tone. He lowered his gaze with a bitter smile, concealing the cold glint in his eyes. “The truth is, I was the one who invited Brother Gu on my own initiative.”

As he spoke, he looked up and addressed the surrounding guests, his expression sincere. “I’m sure many of you have already noticed that my son’s aptitude is poor. No matter how hard he tries, he still has not broken through to minor perfection of the first realm. As a father, I can’t help but worry. In past years, I was too preoccupied with clan affairs and neglected him. Now I find myself feeling a measure of guilt when I look at him.”

Wang Jing opened his mouth to retort, but no one else spoke, and he couldn’t afford to cause a scene. He had no choice but to suppress his dissatisfaction for the time being.

Wang Changlin continued, “I believe many of you have already guessed why I invited Brother Gu here. I ask for nothing else, only that he might be willing to take my son as a disciple and offer him some guidance. I would be deeply grateful.”

The gathered cultivators immediately understood. Wang Changlin had set his sights on Gu Shutong’s Spring and Autumn Technique. Everyone knew that this technique could nourish the meridians and improve one’s aptitude. But Gu Shutong was a cultivator of legendary renown. How could someone like Wang Changlin expect to offer his son as a disciple with just a single request?

Countless eyes turned toward Gu Shutong, waiting for his answer. But within, his heart was far from calm.

The day before, Wang Changlin had told him that if he agreed to take Wang Ziqian as a disciple and pass on the Spring and Autumn Technique, he would be given a clue regarding the whereabouts of his wife and daughter.

He had searched for them for years. How could he not be moved? Even if taking on this disciple meant getting entangled in unnecessary conflict, he had no other choice.

So be it. Gu Shutong sighed inwardly.

Wang Changlin raised a hand, and two attendants stepped forward, each holding a brocade box. As the lids were lifted, the contents inside caught the light. With full confidence, Wang Changlin spoke.

“These are a Thousand-Year Bixue Jade and a Ward-Evil Pearl. They are from my personal collection. If Brother Gu is willing to accept, then let these two items serve as a small token of my sincerity.”

A Thousand-Year Bixue Jade and a Ward-Evil Pearl?!

The crowd was stunned. No one had expected these two rare treasures to be in Wang Changlin’s possession, much less that he would give them to Gu Shutong. Even Gu Shutong himself was momentarily caught off guard. Wang Changlin had no real need to present such valuable gifts, yet he had still chosen to do so. At the very least, his sincerity was clear.

Perhaps he truly was acting out of desperation for Wang Ziqian’s sake, and had no choice but to use that matter as leverage. As a fellow father, Gu Shutong couldn’t help but feel a trace of shared sympathy.

If his own daughter were in Wang Ziqian’s place, he would search the world for teachers, scour the land for spirit herbs. Whatever it took, he would do it.

His expression softened slightly. He didn’t care about the heavy gifts. As long as Wang Changlin gave him the promised information, he would do everything he could to guide Wang Ziqian well.

Watching the subtle shift in his expression, Wang Changlin knew the matter was likely settled.

“Clan Leader, I understand your intentions. If that is the case, then—”

Before Gu Shutong could finish, a streak of silver light suddenly split through the air, aimed straight at him.

He quickly dodged aside. The silver flash grazed the bridge of his nose and embedded itself into the pillar behind him. Everyone saw it clearly. It was a small silver hairpin, simple in design. The craftsmanship was rough, and aside from a few indistinct flowers carved at the end, it had no ornamentation at all.

“Who’s there?” Wang Changlin’s eyes went sharp as he swept his gaze through the air and shouted.

But there was nothing. No figures in the void, only flickering lightning, rolling thunder, and wind-blown rain.

Wang Changlin frowned. The timing was no accident. Just as Gu Shutong was about to give his answer, the interruption had struck. He had to settle this before it slipped away.

He turned back to speak, but what he saw made his heart sink. Gu Shutong stood frozen in place, eyes locked on the hairpin. His expression shifted wildly between shock and confusion. For the first time, this renowned sword cultivator completely lost his composure before a crowd.

“Brother Gu…” Wang Changlin could already tell something was wrong. But before he could say more, Gu Shutong stepped forward, pulled the hairpin from the pillar, and rushed off.

Wang Changlin reached out but it was already too late. He could only watch as the man disappeared from view.

“What just happened…?”

Like Wang Changlin, the rest of the crowd was at a loss. Whispers began to rise from every direction. These were all seasoned elders of their respective sects and clans. None of them felt obliged to keep up appearances for Wang Changlin’s sake. In the blink of an eye, the man who had been the center of attention was left standing off to the side, unable to maintain even the faintest smile.

Wang Jing sneered inwardly, though his face remained perfectly composed. In a neutral tone, he said, “It seems Cultivator Gu has other urgent matters. The matter of apprenticeship can be set aside for now. The final results of today’s competition should be coming soon. I ask that everyone remain patient a little longer.”

One by one, the onlookers turned their attention outside the tower. On the surface, this seemed to relieve the pressure on Wang Changlin, but inside, he was livid. He wanted to strangled Wang Jing on the spot. And Gu Shutong had simply walked out, without a word of explanation. Did he really think Wang Changlin was that easy to fool?

Chen Wujie had observed the entire scene in silence, offering neither comment nor expression.

Out on the terrace, Wang Ziqian had waited long and hard, but still no one had announced that Gu Shutong would take him as a disciple. The frustration gnawed at him. He nearly lost control and charged into the tower to demand an answer. Just then, Wang Zi’an returned from the storm. He had taken the full force of eighteen lightning strikes. His robes were shredded, and he looked utterly worn out as he stepped back onto the terrace.

Wang Ziqian clenched his jaw and forced himself to stay calm. He stepped forward and asked with concern how Wang Zi’an was feeling. Wang Zi’an simply shook his head.

Just then, Master Yinian, Xu Mengyin, Zhong Wu, and the others began to activate their techniques. Thunder and lightning erupted in every direction, wrapping the competition stage at the center of the lake in a great ring of stormlight.

Xiao Yu’er looked to one side, then to the other, eyes full of wonder. Unable to hold back, he tugged at Chen Boyan’s sleeve and said, “Senior Brother, why aren’t you going yet?”

Chen Boyan looked down at him. “No rush, Xiao Yu’er. I have something to ask you first. You must answer me honestly, all right?”

Xiao Yu’er nodded. “Okay.”

“I want to ask you something,” Chen Boyan said quietly. “When your master first took you in as a disciple, did he ask you any unusual questions?”

Xiao Yu’er tilted his head and thought for a moment. “He did. Master asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.”

“That was it?” Chen Boyan asked.

Xiao Yu’er nodded. Chen Boyan continued, “Then do you know where that string of grass beads your master always wears on his belt came from?”

“Grass beads?” Xiao Yu’er blinked. After a pause, he remembered. “Ah, that string. Master said it was a gift from someone very important to him.”

As he spoke, Xiao Yu’er grew a little embarrassed. He rose on tiptoe and leaned in close to whisper beside Chen Boyan’s ear, “It’s a token of love.”

All of a sudden, Chen Boyan remembered the moment he had knelt outside the little tower, and Meng Qiqi had looked down and asked him, “Do you recognize this string of beads?”

If those beads had nothing to do with him at all, then why had Meng Qiqi asked that question?

If Meng Qiqi had asked him that question—didn’t that mean…

A faint light seemed to cut through the haze. In that moment, Chen Boyan felt as if he had brushed the edge of a truth long buried. The shock of it left him reeling, his thoughts churning without rest.

He stood rooted in place, dazed for the first time in his life. People passed back and forth all around him, but he saw none of them. Every face blurred into Meng Qiqi.

No matter how hard he searched his memory, he could find nothing. Not a single trace of a shared past. But that emptiness in itself was a warning. Something was deeply wrong.

If that string of beads truly had something to do with him, then why had he forgotten it so completely? And if he could not remember… what about Chen Wujie?

Chen Boyan narrowed his gaze and looked toward the tower.

Chen Wujie happened to look up at the same moment, catching his nephew’s eyes. His brows drew together slightly. The more he looked at this cold-hearted nephew, the more he felt his wariness deepen. A man like that was too calculating. If he had just died out there, things would have been simpler. Why did he have to return?

As the thought passed, a flicker of memory stirred. Back then, there had been another boy with Chen Boyan. Who was it?