M49S Vol 1 Chapter 51. Guiluo

Guiluoluo’s weapon was a string of golden bells. They could shrink or expand in size, but most of the time he wore them like a string of beads around his wrist. When he was in a foul mood, a single wave of the hand was enough to kill. And Guiluoluo was displeased about nine and a half days out of every ten.

Meng Qiqi knew it all too well. He and Guiluoluo were old acquaintances, or to be more precise, old enemies.

“Mad Dog!” Guiluoluo recognized him at once, his voice brimming with the kind of joy that said, I scoured the world for you, only to find you served up on a platter.

Meng Qiqi had not expected the leader of Guiluo himself to show up here. He slipped past the spinning bells with a single step of Treading Snow, a helpless, bitter smile rising at the corners of his mouth.

Guiluoluo halted his attack. The two stood separately atop the twin trees flanking the pavilion. “Where have you been hiding all these years?”

“Surprised you still remember me, my lord. Someone like me really isn’t worth that much attention.” To Meng Qiqi, there were people you were better off never seeing again.

Back then, when he first met Guiluoluo, he was still roaming the world with Chen Boyan and Shen Qingya. Guiluoluo, at the time, was the magistrate of a small border town. A lawsuit had drawn them together. The details weren’t worth repeating. Suffice it to say that for some inexplicable reason, Meng Qiqi caught Guiluoluo’s eye.

Meng Qiqi had always lived freely, so of course he could not stay behind and serve in some tiny county town, no matter how impressive the magistrate’s background might be.

But Guiluoluo was not one to let things go. If Meng Qiqi refused to play along, he was not going to have a good time. In the end, something happened in that county. Guiluoluo flew into a rage and went on a killing spree, left behind the official seal, and walked away without looking back. The two had never seen each other again since.

Meng Qiqi still had no idea why someone like Guiluoluo had ever holed up in a tiny border town as a magistrate. And Guiluoluo, to this day, had no idea that the wild dog of a teenager he once knew was now the Little Martial Uncle of Gushan Sword.

After joining Gushan, Meng Qiqi had made a point of hiding his appearance—precisely so that people like the Chen family or Guiluoluo wouldn’t recognize him.

Guiluoluo was in a great mood today. He hadn’t expected a trip to Jinling to bring him face-to-face with that adorable little mad dog from years ago.

“Been a long time, and now you’ve learned how to make small talk? What happened to that bite-first temper of yours?”

“People change,” Meng Qiqi said with a smile. “But you, my lord, you look even younger than you did back then. More radiant than ever.”

In those days, Guiluoluo had looked like a bookish young man in his mid-twenties. His features were delicate but not particularly striking. What stood out was how pale he was, so white it carried the chill of death.

Now, that sickly pallor had softened into something closer to a pearlescent sheen. It seemed more natural, barely, though his face had somehow turned into that of a teenager. If Meng Qiqi were not so familiar with him, he would never have believed it.

“Flatter me all you like. It won’t change a thing. That Chen brat of yours, where is he? Finally sick of hauling you around?”

Guiluoluo’s tone was loaded with meaning.

Meng Qiqi was already thinking about how to get out of this, and had just opened his mouth to reply when the assassin who had led him here suddenly pointed and cried out in alarm, “It’s Meng Qiqi! He’s Meng Qiqi!”

“Meng Qiqi?” Guiluoluo rolled the name over his tongue and raised an eyebrow. “Now that’s a surprise. When did you start calling yourself Meng Qiqi?”

The name “Meng Qiqi” had been given to him by Zhou Ziheng. That was why, although Guiluoluo had heard of Gushan’s new Little Martial Uncle, he had never realized they were the same person.

Now that the name was out, things were going to be even harder to walk away from. Meng Qiqi didn’t bother with pretense anymore. “I was about to ask you the same thing, my lord. When my Uncle Zhou disappeared back then, did you have anything to do with it?”

Guiluoluo went quiet, staring at Meng Qiqi with a look that grew more amused the longer he looked. “Little Martial Uncle of Gushan. So you really became the Little Martial Uncle of Gushan. In a world this big, even a stray little mad dog could end up at Gushan.” He laughed out loud. “Wonderful. Truly wonderful.”

Meng Qiqi’s expression did not change, but he was already on guard. Guiluoluo had never been one to settle things with words. The laughter had yet to fade from his eyes when his hand suddenly lashed out toward Meng Qiqi.

Clang.

Xiujian struck a golden bell, its clear ring drilling straight into Meng Qiqi’s heart like a demonic chant. He immediately erected a mental barrier in his spiritual sea and, at the same time, swept Xiujian in a graceful arc.

Clang, clang.

Two more bells were knocked aside in quick succession.

But Guiluoluo was experienced and ruthless, with far too many bells in hand. No matter how Meng Qiqi shifted positions, two or three of them always caught up with him, forcing him to dodge without pause. The strain was mounting. When four bells closed in from different angles, Meng Qiqi no longer held back. He swept Xiujian aside with his right hand, and in the same breath drew a ring-handled saber from his spatial ring, bringing the flat of the blade down hard on the last bell.

In the next instant, Meng Qiqi reappeared at another angle. The ring-handled saber spun lightly in his grip before he brought it down hard toward the gap between two bells.

He had not forgotten that Guiluoluo’s bells were strung together by an incredibly thin, flexible, and stretchable transparent thread. In battle, enemies often mistook the bells as scattered, when in truth they were always caught inside a net. One wrong move, and they would end up shredded to pieces.

But the moment Meng Qiqi’s blade came down, he knew something was wrong. The saber might not be as fine as Xiujian, but it was still a powerful spiritual weapon. And yet, not only did it fail to cut through the thread, the pressure of the strike actually pressed it downward, tugging the rest of the bells back along the line, snapping them straight toward him.

Meng Qiqi retreated at once, but still moved a moment too late. One of the bells grazed the side of his neck, drawing a thin line of blood.

Fortunately, the wound was shallow and not serious.

The bell, stained with blood, began to tremble excitedly. Guiluoluo licked the corner of his mouth. That pale, youthful face of his now looked even more disturbing. He raised a finger and gently flicked the bell through the air. “How about I give you one more chance, little mad dog? If you submit to me now, I’ll let everything else go. And if your loyalty is good enough, I might even tell you what happened to Zhou Ziheng.”

Meng Qiqi withdrew the ring-handled saber and pushed his palm forward, releasing the full force of his spiritual pressure to lock the bells in place. Then he looked up and gave a weary smile. “Why press me like this, my lord?”

“You’re the one pressing me, little mad dog.” Guiluoluo flicked his fingers, and the bells rang out in unison. Invisible vital force surged toward Meng Qiqi, crashing into him and forcing his spiritual pressure back into his body. The bells he had just frozen began creeping closer once more.

Guiluoluo’s cultivation was unfathomable. Meng Qiqi could neither read it nor suppress it, but that did not mean he was ready to give in. He raised his sword and silently recited an incantation. A ripple of golden light spread outward from his body, stabilizing his spiritual pressure and forcing the approaching bells back half a step.

The technique was called Little World. It bore a strong resemblance to Wind Settles the Waves from Futu Temple. Some cultivators had even said the names seemed reversed. It should have been Futu Temple’s Little World, and Wind Settles the Waves from Gushan Sword.

The standoff held in a tense deadlock.

At first, Guiluoluo only meant to toy with Meng Qiqi. How could he bear to kill the little mad dog right away? Besides, a living Little Martial Uncle of Gushan was far more valuable than a dead one.

But it didn’t take long before Guiluoluo’s view of him began to change. After all these years, the little mad dog might have hidden his fangs and claws, but the sharpness had not dulled. It had only gone deeper, tucked beneath a gentler exterior.

Guiluoluo’s playful mood vanished. The pressure bearing down on Meng Qiqi doubled at once.

Just then, a long spear split the air with a sharp howl of wind and pierced straight toward Guiluoluo’s back.

“Who’s there?” Guiluoluo had no choice but to raise his hand and block the strike. That single moment was enough for Meng Qiqi to slip away. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Guiluoluo’s face twisted in fury. “Find him. I don’t care how long it takes. Drag him out if you have to.”

His subordinates scattered in all directions, while Guiluoluo turned to face the one who had thrown the spear. Every strike he launched was laced with killing intent, his rage leaving no room for mercy.

But the intruder showed no weakness. Every lift of the hand brimmed with killing intent, and the faint scent of blood crept into Guiluoluo’s nose. He frowned.

The figure was masked, face hidden, and both the weapon and techniques were unfamiliar. He was certain he had never provoked anyone like this before.

Meng Qiqi used A Glimpse of the Soaring Swan to slip past the encirclement of Guiluo’s assassins. As long as Guiluoluo himself did not step in, he was confident that no one else could catch him.

But after fleeing a certain distance, he suddenly looped around and doubled back.

A short while later, he peeked out from behind a boulder and quietly watched the fight. It did not take long for him to recognize the man. The spear, the scent of blood. It could only be Chen Zhan.

Why was he here? Was this part of some scheme by the Chen family, or had Chen Boyan sent him?

Countless possibilities flashed through Meng Qiqi’s mind. Deep down, he hoped that Chen Zhan had come on Chen Boyan’s orders to protect him, though he also knew that kind of thinking was foolish.

Whenever his thoughts turned to Chen Boyan, Meng Qiqi would always drift a little. Fortunately, Guiluoluo was too focused on fighting Chen Zhan to notice that he was there.

Meng Qiqi held his breath as he continued watching from the shadows. Reinforcements soon arrived for Chen Zhan, and the fight grew more intense. But it seemed Chen Zhan had realized that Guiluoluo was not someone he could simply kill. He began to retreat, and in the end, withdrew with his men unharmed.

Meng Qiqi remained hidden, holding his breath and focusing all his attention. Before long, reinforcements arrived for Chen Zhan, and the battle grew even fiercer. But perhaps Chen Zhan had finally realized that Guiluoluo was not someone he could kill so easily. He gradually began to retreat and eventually withdrew with his people in one piece.

Twice in a row, Guiluoluo had failed to hold his target. The delicate, pale face that looked almost like polished jade was now dark with fury. His subordinates knelt inside the pavilion, not daring to breathe too loudly, each terrified of becoming the next target.

After some time, Guiluoluo’s expression finally eased a little. He turned to one of them and asked, “What did Wang Changlin say?”

The man, the very one Meng Qiqi had been following earlier, kept his head bowed as he replied quickly, “He seems to be quite dissatisfied with Wang Jing and wants me to keep passing internal information from Guiluo to him.”

Meng Qiqi was quietly stunned.

Meng Qiqi was quietly surprised.

From the way things looked, Wang Changlin had planted someone inside Guiluo to pass him information. That person had brought him the message that Wang Jing had colluded with Guiluo to target Meng Qiqi. But in truth, the so-called informant had always belonged to Guiluoluo and had never betrayed him. Everything Wang Changlin had heard was information Guiluoluo had chosen to leak.

To fight deception with deception, this was exactly the sort of move Guiluoluo would make. And it also made it clear that his relationship with Wang Jing was not as close as Meng Qiqi had once believed.

Guiluoluo said coldly, “That old bastard Wang Jing thinks he can order my people around just because he’s holding a bit of leverage. I don’t know where he gets the face for that. And Wang Changlin, actually dared to stick his hand into my pocket. He’s got some nerve.

No one dared respond. Guiluoluo turned to another man in the pavilion and asked, “Don’t you think so?”

The man froze for a moment, then quickly shouted, “Yes, my lord!”

“Not so loud. That ringing hurts my ears,” Guiluoluo said gently, raising his hand to the man’s head and stroking it as if smoothing a lover’s hair. His touch was soft and calm.

But the man trembled as if a blade had been pressed to his throat. “Please, my lord, have mercy. Don’t kill me, please don’t—ah!”

The man screamed, and in the next moment, his head shattered. Bone fragments and yellow-white matter splattered across the floor. Guiluoluo gave a low sound of displeasure, then drew his hand back and slowly took out a handkerchief. One by one, he wiped every finger clean.

Then, as if something had just occurred to him, a faint smile crossed his lips. “Send the body to Wang Changlin’s bed.”

“Yes, sir.” His subordinates dragged the headless corpse away. From the calm look on their faces, this clearly wasn’t the first time they had done something like this.

Meng Qiqi kept thinking about that faint smile on Guiluoluo’s lips. The more he thought about it, the colder his back became. He stayed hidden even more carefully than before. Only when Guiluoluo finally left did he stepped out from behind the rocks and head back into the city.

At this moment, the dueling platform at the center of the lake was thick with fighting spirit.

At the dueling platform in the center of the lake, the air was thick with fighting spirit.

Ran Yuguan deliberately avoided Chen Boyan and challenged Mu Guinian instead. Chen Boyan made no move to stop him, and Mu Guinian was also willing to fight. The two clashed, and in the end, Ran Yuguan won by virtue of his superior cultivation.

But what happened next caught everyone off guard. Just as the crowd was speculating about who Ran Yuguan might challenge next, the youngest disciple of Gushan Sword, Xiao Yu’er, stepped forward and challenged him.

The cultivators watching were all visibly surprised. Xiao Yu’er’s cultivation ranked dead last among the disciples of Gushan Sword, with no chance of defeating Ran Yuguan. Why bother stepping up at all? Gushan Sword would never need to send out a junior disciple just to save face.

But what no one expected came after that. When Xiao Yu’er was defeated, Qing Gu challenged Ran Yuguan next. After Qing Gu lost, Tu Youqiong followed. Then came Xiao Xiao, Dai Xiaoshan, and Song Ru. Gushan Sword’s disciples lined up one after another to challenge Ran Yuguan, paying no mind to how many fights they lost in a row.

After Tu Youqiong was beaten, he even ran cheerfully back to Chen Boyan and asked, “Senior Brother, did I do okay just now? Can I go challenge someone else now?”

Chen Boyan calmly replied, “Did you last ten moves against him?”

Tu Youqiong flushed with embarrassment, then turned and ran back to Ran Yuguan, asking earnestly, “Can I fight you again?”

But Dai Xiaoshan objected, “That’s not fair, Little Junior Brother. I’m next.”

Tu Youqiong clung to his arm and whined, “Come on, Senior Brother, let me go first.”

While the two of them were fooling around, Mu Guinian quietly stepped up with his sword in hand. The onlookers were silent. They racked their brains and still couldn’t find a word to describe how they felt right now.

That strained silence, to Ran Yuguan, felt like humiliation. His face darkened as he brushed past Mu Guinian and walked straight up to Chen Boyan.

“Why are you humiliating me like this?” he demanded.

Tu Youqiong cut in before Chen Boyan could speak. “You feel insulted just because I fought you? So you look down on me? What kind of logic is that? You’re allowed to challenge my Senior Brother, but we’re not allowed to challenge you? Who made up that rule?”

In truth, the idea to challenge Ran Yuguan in turns had come from Dai Xiaoshan and Tu Youqiong. Those two senior brothers were always full of tricks and never afraid to stir things up. If Beidou tried to slap them in the face, there was no way they wouldn’t slap back.

Dai Xiaoshan gave Tu Youqiong a subtle look. Tu Youqiong immediately understood and, before anyone from Beidou could react, began shouting like beans spilling from a bamboo tube.

“Think back to the old days! My Little Martial Uncle once drew his sword against all fourteen provinces. The challenge letters sent to Gushan stacked taller than a man, and one of them came from your own Elder Yexin. If being challenged by many is somehow humiliating, then are you saying Elder Yexin was trying to humiliate my Martial Uncle too? Was the straw-hatted elder of Tianlao also insulting him? Were all those seniors and masters trying to disgrace him? Is that what you’re saying?!”

Tu Youqiong grew more impassioned as he spoke. The young man stood tall and sharp, his voice ringing with conviction. It was as if a surge of righteous energy filled his chest. By the time he reached the end, even he had moved himself.

“I may not be able to beat you today, but that doesn’t mean I won’t beat you tomorrow. I don’t consider today’s loss a disgrace, and yet Senior Brother Ran, you feel insulted? I—I…”

His voice caught, and he could not finish the sentence. Ran Yuguan’s face turned red. No one could tell whether it was from anger or humiliation. Jiang Xie, knowing his senior brother lacked the gift of speech, stepped forward to clarify. But by then, the way everyone looked at Ran Yuguan had already changed.

Chen Boyan finally spoke. He gave Tu Youqiong a calm look and said, “Youqiong. Come back.”

Tu Youqiong flinched and quickly ran over, bracing for a scolding. Chen Boyan said calmly, “A swordsman must cultivate the heart. You don’t win anything by arguing.”

“Yes, Senior Brother.” He lowered his head and accepted the rebuke without protest, obedient as could be.

As the crowd looked between Beidou and Gushan, the distinction was already clear in their eyes. Chen Boyan was still exactly as everyone remembered him. Upright, composed, and principled. He stood for the righteous legacy Gushan had passed down for over a thousand years. And just like every generation of Gushan cultivators, he spoke little and did much.

He stepped forward and looked Ran Yuguan in the eye. “If you think my junior brothers and sisters are unqualified to challenge you,” he said, “then come at me instead.”