Chapter Fifty-Nine: If I truly wish to kill him...

Chapter 59: If I Must Kill Him...

The atmosphere in the valley instantly turned strange and tense.

Even the cultivators from the three observing sects sensed something amiss and all looked toward the entrance of the valley.

Out of everyone present, it was the disciples of the outer sect’s Grand Elder Ning Jiuyi who appeared the most grim, their expressions murderous. Except for Bai Chengzhou and Feng Wanhai, all bore looks of barely suppressed grief and wrath, as if they were restraining themselves with great effort—truly seasoned veterans of the world.

Bai Chengzhou merely smiled in silence. Feng Wanhai, after a deep and expressionless glance at Fan Lanzhou, withdrew his gaze and sat unmoved, as still as a stone statue.

“The people from the Unmoving Peak have finally arrived.”

“Two entering the top four? That’s no easy feat. I daresay Unmoving Peak is about to lose its place this time!”

“Strange, though—someone seems missing. Where’s that kid Fang Junmei? I heard he registered as well.”

“He’s probably scared. For all his previous arrogance, turns out he’s just another coward who runs away when the time comes.”

...

The murmurs and speculations filled the air.

It wasn’t just the outer disciples—even the inner disciples cast mocking glances their way.

But none of this was for Fang Junmei’s sake. The real reason was the legendary yet unseen Long Jinyi. In his day, Long Jinyi had lost only to Gu Xijin; every other peer who faced him was utterly defeated, left with no face at all.

Fan Lanzhou and his two companions paid no mind, proceeding directly to their seats atop the Unmoving Peak platform, where they sat without a word.

Fan Lanzhou closed his eyes in silence. Yang Xiaoman looked around with interest at the other disciples—many she had never seen before, as they were either wandering the cultivation world or secluded in arduous training, rarely returning.

Linghu Jiu, however, busied himself sampling the spirit fruits and fine wine set before them, praising their taste with every bite, which made a few onlookers gnash their teeth in envy.

The conversations around them only grew louder.

High above, the elders of the Peach Blossom Sword Sect exchanged sharp glances, their displeasure flickering in their eyes. Such talk was harmless enough within the sect, but with the other three great sects present, did this not reveal disunity within their ranks? Where would the elders’ dignity be?

Yet Daoist Tianhe remained as ever, his face betraying nothing as he chatted and laughed with those around him.

Meanwhile, Nanguo Cheng and his companions listened and watched, eyes deep and inscrutable, saying nothing about the disputes among the younger generation.

...

Though the elders held their tongues, the younger generation could not refrain from speaking their minds.

“Brother Xijin, your sect’s disciples seem less than harmonious,” someone remarked with a touch of regret.

The speaker was a young man in his early thirties, with long black hair cascading to his waist, a handsome face with sharp features, thick brows, and keen eyes. He wore a loose, open-front azure robe that fluttered slightly with an air of bold energy.

His name was Ouyang Ge, one of the most outstanding cultivators of his generation in the Celestial Palace of Lingjue, his cultivation equal to Gu Xijin’s—both at the mid-stage Dao Embryo realm.

Gu Xijin responded with a faint smile, his tone cool: “A little rivalry among disciples is no bad thing. Only by losing does one learn to strive for improvement.”

“Well said!” Ouyang Ge nodded in apparent realization, as if he had expected such an answer. “I nearly forgot—Brother Xijin himself once faced a fierce challenge. If I recall, it was Long Jinyi who defeated you. I wonder if he will appear this time? Will the final clash once again be between you and him?”

At this, Gu Xijin’s expression grew faintly complex for the first time, but quickly returned to calm. He replied evenly, “Long Jinyi has already defected from our Peach Blossom Sword Sect. There’s no need for you to mention him further, Brother Ouyang.”

“Long Jinyi defected from your sect?” Ouyang Ge was visibly taken aback, as if genuinely hearing the news for the first time.

The other disciples from the three sects likewise showed surprise.

Gu Xijin nodded again. There was little point in hiding such matters for long, and he did not believe they were truly ignorant.

“What reason would he have to leave your sect? With his talent, any sect would consider him a prized disciple. Surely your sect did not mistreat him?” Ouyang Ge pressed on, his words carrying a subtle undertone.

“Brother Ouyang jests. Naturally, he was among the most highly valued disciples of our Peach Blossom Sword Sect. As for his reasons for leaving, forgive me if I cannot disclose them.” Gu Xijin replied, lips curved in a knowing smile, his gaze unfathomable. He recalled the words of Daoist Tianhe, the ways of those old foxes in handling such matters.

Ouyang Ge was ambitious—not only in cultivation but also in seeking power within his sect and in controlling others. For him, such intrigue was as thrilling as combat, not the least bit distasteful.

Ouyang Ge gave a small “oh,” then, with sudden righteous fervor, declared, “Did your sect kill him? If not, should we of the Celestial Palace of Lingjue encounter him, we would gladly assist your sect in eradicating this traitor!”

“Thank you for your kind offer, Brother Ouyang, but the Peach Blossom Sword Sect has its own arrangements.” Gu Xijin replied with a smile, betraying nothing.

...

After a moment’s silence, Ouyang Ge said, “Ah, so Brother Xijin intends to settle the matter with him personally—to bring it to a true conclusion.”

Gu Xijin laughed heartily, his voice open and easy: “You’re too serious, Brother Ouyang. There’s nothing for me to settle with him. Though he did defeat me once, I am not a petty man. I’ll simply win next time.”

So carefree, confident, and broad-minded was his response that, in an instant, many cultivators found their admiration for Gu Xijin deepening. Several female cultivators made no attempt to hide their affection.

In Ouyang Ge’s eyes, however, a flash of envy and disdain quickly passed.

Among the younger generation of the River Nation, heroes abounded—Ouyang Ge among them. Yet none shone brighter than Gu Xijin and a certain Qin Jiangge of the Luofu Sword Sect. But the Luofu Sword Sect was now destroyed, and, barring the unexpected, Qin Jiangge was dead as well. Only Gu Xijin remained above Ouyang Ge.

Whenever Gu Xijin was mentioned, people spoke of him as flawless. His talent, temperament, and diligence were beyond reproach; no faults could be found, no weaknesses exposed.

But Ouyang Ge did not believe this. He was certain that deep within Gu Xijin’s heart lay a darkness unknown to others: jealousy, arrogance, fear, greed—all hidden beneath the surface.

Thus, every time he met Gu Xijin, Ouyang Ge would probe him, subtly or otherwise.

Clearly, he had failed once again.

...

“If one day I truly must kill him, it will be from the standpoint of the sect, not for personal grudges,” Gu Xijin murmured at this point, his gaze drifting toward a certain direction.

That direction was where the three of Unmoving Peak sat.

There, Fan Lanzhou was watching. Gu Xijin’s words sounded as though they were directed at him.

Their eyes met across the distance.

...

After a few breaths, Fan Lanzhou was the first to look away, his face growing colder and more inscrutable, revealing nothing.