Volume One: The King's Command Chapter Sixty-Five: The Little Grandmaster Descends from the Heavens

The Master of Yuheng Mountain, though possessing remarkable cultivation, was forced to the ground by a single shout, unable to rise. The many disciples beside him knelt toward the surrounding mountains, chanting in unison, “Great Elder, spare us! We know our mistake!” The echo of that voice lingered, reverberating through the mountains, heard clearly by all nearby. In the central plaza, the gathered elders turned pale at the sound.

Dao Xuzi, as sect master, knew all too well what that voice signified. “Everyone, remain calm! The Great Elder of our sect has emerged from seclusion. I will go and inquire what has happened.” Within the Heavenly King Dao Sect, there was a rumor of a reclusive Great Elder, who had lived for over three hundred years and possessed unfathomable power, but no one had seen his true appearance for nearly a century.

The voice that had just resounded was unmistakably tinged with anger. Could it be that something serious had happened within the sect? Many visiting guests grew restless, eager to follow Dao Xuzi and see for themselves. Fortunately, the presence of the elders kept the gathering from descending into chaos.

“You carry the Great Elder’s token—who are you?” The Master of Yuheng Mountain asked with a bitter smile. Of all the things he ought not to have done, he should never have intervened to defend his disciple. Not long after he had taken up the role of mountain master, he had once met the Great Elder—a memory that had left a lifelong impression, so harrowing that he dared not harbor a single improper thought since.

This was a question Liu Xiaoyi himself wanted answered. The token had been given to him by Daoist Yellow Crane, but he had not expected it to have such an effect, nor to draw forth such an extraordinary figure.

Before he could reply, a white-robed elder flew through the air from within the mountain gate, his feet hovering three feet above the ground, his face grave, and his aura locking onto Liu Xiaoyi from a distance.

“Yuhengzi, what happened here?”

“Master! This man caused trouble at the gate and injured my disciple. I intended to teach him a lesson, but he produced the Great Elder’s token, and so...” Yuhengzi looked aggrieved; not only had he been beaten to the point of coughing blood, now he faced the prospect of severe punishment.

Dao Xuzi was also taken aback. The Great Elder had not emerged from the mountain in so many years—how did this young man come by the token?

He took the token and examined it; the material was unmistakably crafted by the Heavenly King Dao Sect, and judging by the style, it was at least two hundred years old. “Young friend, where did you obtain this token?”

“An old man gave it to me. I do not know his name,” Liu Xiaoyi replied ambiguously, making Dao Xuzi’s dilemma even more difficult.

Suddenly, a voice sounded in Dao Xuzi’s mind. It was the Great Elder from earlier. “Dao Xuzi, he is my disciple, here to test himself in the Heavenly King Dao.”

“Your disciple? Understood, Great Elder. You need not worry,” Dao Xuzi answered respectfully.

“If he passes the trial, bring him to me,” the voice instructed.

Just these few words sent Dao Xuzi’s thoughts into turmoil. The Great Elder had never before accepted such a young disciple. The Great Elder’s disciples, famed throughout the martial world, were all towering figures—even Dao Xuzi himself was of a lesser generation. Could this youth really pass the trial of the Heavenly King Dao? Judging by Liu Xiaoyi’s appearance, he was only fifteen or sixteen, his cultivation merely at the fifth or sixth tier. Did he truly dare attempt the trial?

“Yuhengzi, take him to change his clothes. The Great Elder has said he is now his disciple.”

“The Great Elder’s disciple?” Yuhengzi exclaimed. “Then what of the sect’s competition spot?”

“Give him one as well. The Great Elder’s instructions are not to be repeated. The consequences would be dire if ignored. Handle it as you see fit.” Dao Xuzi turned to Liu Xiaoyi, “The sect assembly will be held soon. Go and prepare with him, and attend the assembly on time.”

Everything was changing too swiftly for Liu Xiaoyi to process. Dao Xuzi vanished, leaving behind the ashen-faced Yuhengzi.

By seniority, as the Great Elder’s disciple, Liu Xiaoyi now outranked all the mountain masters as their grand-uncle—a fact that left him utterly astonished.

“Grand-uncle... then, what should we do now?” Yuhengzi asked nervously, still shaken by his earlier murderous intent. Liu Xiaoyi smiled, “I’m here to attend the assembly, of course. I don’t know the way. Please show me.”

Meanwhile, deep within the mountains, in a resplendent golden hall, an old Daoist with tawny hair stood before a pond, in whose surface Liu Xiaoyi’s shadow was reflected.

“What do you think of this youth? He comes recommended by Immortal Yellow Crane—he must be a promising seedling.” From his body, another identical old Daoist suddenly leapt forth and spoke.

This second Daoist had jet-black hair and a much younger appearance. The two identical figures stood side by side, an odd sight.

“His soul is fragmented, but his will is strong. His dantian contains flowing true qi. He knows both swordsmanship and Daoist arts, though his learning is rather scattered.”

“He carries a piece of the Monarch’s Order. I suspect his trial in the Heavenly King Dao is at the Liao family’s behest. Fearing for their realm, they have devised this scheme to use another’s hand to solve their problem. I say we should never have handed the Iron Dynasty to their family.”

Their debate sent faint ripples through the pond’s surface, which seemed to reach Liu Xiaoyi far away, leaving his ears buzzing in confusion.

Accompanied by the Master of Yuheng Mountain, Liu Xiaoyi and his companions entered the sect and found a room where he changed into the ceremonial robes of Heavenly King Dao. The difference in his attire was immediately apparent—the front of his robe was embroidered with the Seven Stars, while ordinary disciples bore only a single star representing their mountain. His robe was also adorned with purple threads, matching the color worn by the mountain masters themselves.

Yuhengzi had originally planned to dress him in a robe belonging to the elders, but seeing this garment, he felt a chill run through him. The youth was a true disciple of the Great Elder, as even this robe proved. It was said that the Seven Stars emblem was reserved for those personally accepted by the Great Elder—a mark Yuhengzi had never seen in person until today.

“Master Yuheng, where should we sit?” Liu Xiaoyi asked as they arrived at the central plaza, now packed to capacity. Yet the arrival of the mountain master still drew many eyes. To everyone’s surprise, the Master of Yuheng Mountain respectfully stood by, leading a few young people to their seats—an action that left some of the older generation puzzled.

Dao Xuzi, seated at the center of the high dais, summoned a disciple to bring another chair beside him.

“Come, sit here.” Dao Xuzi had noticed Liu Xiaoyi’s robe—it was identical to those worn by the legendary elders he had encountered in his youth. Despite his age, his heart skipped a beat. The eccentric temperaments of those elders had cost him dearly in the past; even now, he felt a reflexive jolt of anxiety.

Meng Qiaoqiao, having arrived, saw her master Bai Yiting nearby, sitting with a wine gourd in hand and paying no attention to his disciple.

Unfazed, Liu Xiaoyi took the comfortable seat, looking around with curiosity as countless stunned and suspicious eyes turned his way. Liu Xiaoyi pretended not to notice and offered no response.

Who is that? How dare he sit there? What on earth is Dao Xuzi up to? Has he no shame left? The youth looked young enough to be his grandson, and yet was a complete stranger. Had Dao Xuzi secretly taken on a new disciple?

Hearing the whispers around him, Dao Xuzi realized he would have to risk his own reputation today. “Everyone! The hour has come! The Heavenly King Dao Sect Assembly begins!”

At his proclamation, drums and music burst forth—eighteen instruments interweaving harmoniously. All the disciples participating in the competition waved their banners, summoning their teams.

Feng Changzai had yet to appear; in his stead, a low-profile inner disciple stood beside Feng Nanjue. Tang Qiu, clad in armor, sat astride his horse and waved his great saber from the stage. Liu Xiaoyi waved back, calling, “Hey, old friend! Did you see me?”

Dao Xuzi quietly advised, “Representatives from all the martial sects are present. Mind your manners.”

Chastened, Liu Xiaoyi sat back down. Behind him, Xie Dongting couldn’t help but laugh, eagerly anticipating Liu Xiaoyi’s public embarrassment.

The rules of the great sects were myriad—outstripping even those of the imperial court. The higher one’s station, the more one had to observe them. Liu Xiaoyi was unaware of this. After Dao Xuzi finished a long, tedious opening speech, he abruptly pulled Liu Xiaoyi to his feet.

“Allow me to formally introduce this man to you all! He is my junior grand-uncle, just returned from training in the outside world!”

This gesture was meant to put Liu Xiaoyi on the spot. Suddenly finding themselves with a new elder in their midst, no one could be expected to feel entirely pleased.

Yuhengzi, seated to the side, discreetly gave a thumbs-up. Dao Xuzi looked pleased with himself and added, “For the sparring matches, disciples may challenge Grand-Uncle Liu!”

Now not only the disciples below the stage but even the honored guests above grew excited. Though they themselves could not participate, they had all brought their disciples. The only one qualified to be called grand-uncle by Dao Xuzi would be a true disciple of the Great Elder. None had ever heard of a new, young disciple before, but all recalled the torments suffered at the hands of those old monsters—now, given the chance for a little payback, no one wanted to miss it.

Liu Xiaoyi, of course, understood the source of this pent-up resentment—it was undoubtedly those detestable elder brothers of his.

“In that case, senior brother, my disciples are eager for a match,” the Master of Yuheng Mountain was the first to speak, pointing below. “Feng Nanjue, don’t you love a good fight? Your turn!”

“Yuheng, this isn’t proper. If something happens, the Great Elder will be furious, and it will be difficult to explain,” protested the Master of Tianshu Mountain, sitting at Dao Xuzi’s right. He was an ardent admirer of the Great Elder, having idolized him since entering the sect.

“If the sky falls, our senior brother Dao Xuzi will hold it up, won’t you?” Yuhengzi winked mischievously at the sect master.

“Ahem, so long as it’s only a friendly spar and no one loses their life, it’s fine,” Dao Xuzi replied with a guilty conscience. He could not allow an unknown youth to enter the Heavenly King Dao without challenge—it would bring the sect into disrepute. With that thought, Dao Xuzi steeled himself and signaled for the crowd to clear the arena for the match.

Liu Xiaoyi, on the contrary, felt at ease stepping into the ring. In truth, he would have felt more awkward sitting grandly above.

“Brother Feng, we meet again.” Liu Xiaoyi drew his Frost Sword, pointing it at Feng Nanjue.