Chapter One: City of Golden Light

She had witnessed July’s madness and was certain it was the early form of that rare, unique talent that Zheng Feixian had possessed in her youth. This gift was so uncommon that most people didn’t even recognize it for what it was, simply calling it a state of heightened potential, unaware that it was actually a power that could be wielded. Zheng Feixian called it Frenzy.

Indeed, July possessed this very gift—just like Zheng Feixian, she was endowed with both the Body of Spiritual Energy and the Frenzy talent. Once awakened, Frenzy doubled a martial cultivator’s physical and internal strength. And with mastery, its effects could be doubled with each new level attained.

With Zheng Feixian’s prowess, bolstered by such a gift, who in the world could be her match? If she were not revered as the martial sovereign of the world, then who else would dare claim the title?

How, then, could Qiuye ever hope to catch up in the face of such a talent?

“Brother Bu, no, July mustn’t take your blood…”

Qiuye, delighted to see her finally respond, nevertheless pressed gently, “July, don’t waste my blood!” July had spoken of this before, and it was why Qiuye acted now—if even this failed, then there was nothing more to be done.

Her words made July stop resisting, ceasing her frantic head-shaking. Meekly, she began to drink the warm, thick blood.

After a moment, July’s eyes snapped open.

“Brother Bu, that’s enough, July has had enough!”

Seeing that it was Qiuye by her side, she stared in a daze, then suddenly collapsed weakly onto the bed and, like a child, burst into tears.

“Brother Bu is dead, he fell from the cliff and died…”

Qiuye hurriedly embraced her, soothing, “Don’t cry, July, don’t cry. Even if the sect leader is looking down from the heavens, he will never forget those who stood by him in hardship. He’s surely watching over you, silently protecting and blessing you, hoping that you will cherish your life and live happily…” Qiuye could not recall how long it had been since she had spoken such words. In this moment, memories of being comforted as a child and of comforting others came rushing back, and she too shed tears of emotion.

Zheng Linran, who had come upon hearing the commotion, paused at the doorway when she heard July’s weeping. The last thing she wanted was to hear anyone mention that beggar, Bu Jingxian. But in Zhengdu, she had to play the role of a widow mourning her lost husband, and even within the sect, she dared not show too much joy. Fortunately, others, fearing to upset her, refrained from mentioning it, but hearing it now filled her with displeasure.

‘Had I known you cared so much for that good-for-nothing, I’d have let Master marry you to him back then. It would’ve spared me all this suffering… Hmph!’

“I think July has just woken and still needs rest. No one should disturb her. Elder Qiuye, stay with her. Once she is recovered, I will visit,” Zheng Linran instructed before turning to leave.

She did have some senior-sisterly affection for July, but no more than she did for any other fellow disciple. Her concern was mainly for Qiuye’s sake; otherwise, as the sect leader, she wouldn’t constantly fret over an injured disciple. If she did, with all the wounded and sick in Feixian Sect, she’d have no time for anything else.

At that moment, Bu Jingxian was lying down in his own room, never imagining that, after so many years, news of his supposed death would still have such a profound impact on July. He believed she would grieve, but only for a short time. After all, those days of shared hardship were long past, and in recent years, July had been surrounded by attentive companions; as she interacted and formed new bonds, the emotions of childhood should have been gradually diluted.

That was his belief—just as, in tales, lovers always vow never to part, for only together can love stay strong. Even the closest of fathers and sons, if separated for too long, find their feelings begin to fade.

Morning came.

Bu Jingxian noticed Gui Jianchou hadn’t come out for his morning ablutions, and the meal prepared with much effort by the mountain lord was growing cold. He went to knock and was met by a very weary Gui Jianchou at the door.

“Call your wife to join us. We need to eat and then set out.”

“Alright, you go ahead, we’ll be along soon.”

After a while, Gui Jianchou emerged supporting Bilian, whose legs seemed to have lost all strength—she could barely walk even with his help. With everyone’s eyes on her, Bilian was so embarrassed that she dared not look up, keeping her head bowed throughout the meal.

The mountain lord, a man of experience, gave Gui Jianchou a thumbs-up and praised him, “A real man! Truly a man among men! I admire you, brother.”

The Lady of the Evening Glow gave a discreet cough, and only then did the mountain lord realize that such remarks were improper in the presence of the sect, hastily urging everyone to eat.

As they set out down the mountain, Bu Jingxian saw a vast golden expanse in the distance—endless fields of some unknown plant, shimmering brilliantly beneath the morning sun.

“What a golden avenue this is!”

The mountain lord immediately replied, “Young Master Zuo is right. That ahead is the territory of Goldenlight City, covered in golden grass. The wealth of the Chen Kingdom all comes from this golden grass. Countless battles and lives have been lost over control of Goldenlight City!”

Chen Kingdom produced golden rice, each grain ten times larger than ordinary rice. But the golden grass was a mystery—no matter how they tried, it wouldn’t grow outside the kingdom; only here did it thrive. And Goldenlight City was one of the three main centers of golden rice production.

Chen was the grain basket of the world. Once famed for its etiquette and governance, in recent years, the court had become chaotic with political struggle. Still, their diplomacy remained impeccable—when other nations needed grain for their wars, Chen was always generous, offending none, aiding all with supplies but never with troops.

Thus, the great powers balanced each other, and Chen became a land none dared covet. Chen’s envoys were treated with double honor wherever they went.

Bu Jingxian had not been sure whether the Evening Glow Sect lay in Chu or Chen, but now he finally knew.

“Our sect is in Goldenlight City. We own a fair share of golden fields and are quite prosperous. We also possess lands producing golden iron ore and mainly trade in weaponry. If you are in no hurry, Young Master, why not visit us for a while? It would be a chance for us to properly thank you for your help.”

With no place to go, and eager to see the famed city’s splendor, Bu Jingxian readily accepted the invitation.

They traveled along roads lined with golden grass. When they walked among it, sunlight reflecting off the blades dazzled even more brightly; when the wind stirred the fields, countless points of light shifted and danced, creating a mesmerizing scene. Bu Jingxian found himself utterly enchanted, reluctant to leave even as they neared the city.

Evening Glow laughed, saying, “Young Master Zuo is always welcome here. There’s no need for such reluctance.”

Only then did Bu Jingxian move on. Just before entering the city, he stopped to ask, “May I ask the sect master’s and Lady Evening Glow’s esteemed names?”

Evening Glow smiled shyly, replying, “The sect master’s surname is Bai, given name Yue. I am also Bai, with the given name Xing.”

Bu Jingxian had guessed that the Evening Glow Sect held some standing in Goldenlight City. As they neared, Bai Xing’s two junior sisters grew visibly more self-assured, even a little arrogant.

At the gates, the guards recognized them instantly, running over to pay their respects with great enthusiasm, insisting they use military carriages to return. But Bai Yue declined, agreeing only to rest and have tea at the gatehouse. Before long, the vice-captain of the gatehouse came to join them for conversation.

They had barely begun their tea when a grand convoy of four carriages arrived below, the lead drawn by four horses. Bu Jingxian was secretly astonished; only marquises in Chen were permitted such carriages.

“Young Master Zuo, our carriage is ready. Please.”

He then understood why Lord Ling had gone to such lengths to lure Bai Yue to Leper Town using Feixian Sect’s name. Without such a pretext, Bai Yue would never have gone herself. As a marquis of Chen, with fertile fields and iron mines, she would not heed the summons of a mere border general from Zheng.

Of course, in Lord Ling’s domain in Zheng, a Chen marquis would hardly warrant his regard.

Bai Yue’s earlier claim of the Evening Glow Sect’s modest status in the city had been humble indeed. In truth, the sect owned a hundred acres of golden fields, produced a third of the city’s golden iron, and ranked third among Chen’s weapon merchants. In the past, the sect had controlled the entire city, but since the previous master’s passing, and with both Bai Yue and Bai Xing being women, though they inherited the marquisate, they were barred from holding official posts.