Chapter 45: Conduct

A fierce wind swept across the broad street, carrying a mix of clamor and quietness. The bone-chilling sound of swords seemed to echo in their ears, and no one uttered a single extra word.

Shortly after, amidst a dull thud, a sword was thrust back into its scabbard with a crisp clank, and Xie Peiling simply walked onward in the direction of the Li family estate.

No one dared to say another word. In the depths of their hearts, they prayed for him, hoping that this young and promising hero could slay the tyrannical bully of the Li family and deliver justice for the innocent civilians who had died unjustly.

With a sinister look in his eyes, someone bolted toward the yamen the moment Xie Peiling’s back vanished from sight.

Indeed, he was running straight toward the government office. The others froze for a split second, and the two who had initially tried to dissuade Xie Peiling lunged toward this man, desperately attempting to stop him.

Everyone knew that murder demanded a life in return. Yet sometimes, certain people sat high above the rest of the world, just like the southern Li family of the city.

Not only the common folk, but even the officials knew this. The authorities might even have possessed evidence, yet they still chose to turn a blind eye. Such was the way of this world. Even the imperial authority had collapsed once, and the reigning emperor was no exception. He cared only about drafting soldiers for campaigns, levying various taxes all in preparation for warfare.

Likewise, the current emperor’s ambition was not to govern the country well, but to launch external expeditions. He believed that as long as he conquered enough cities, he could atone for the sin of instigating rebellions and leave a legendary name echoing through the history books for millennia.

Yet he did not know that the interior was already riddled with holes and tattered beyond repair. Numerous peasant uprisings had been brutally suppressed, while this emperor was squandering the nation's remaining fortune. With the country growing weaker by the day, he repeatedly changed the currency, ultimately triggering runaway inflation. Coupled with his impulsive and frequent revisions of laws and regulations, even the locally formidable aristocratic clans felt the agonizing pinch.

Consequently, every clan in every locality was practically cut from the same cloth, and the yamen stood as the ultimate symbol of awe—a sacred sanctuary. But things were different now. No matter how formidable Xie Peiling’s martial prowess might be, he was still far too young.

The yamen harbored numerous martial arts experts who could surely suppress Xie Peiling. That was why those two individuals tried their utmost to block the informant.

At the very last second, however, the runner suddenly halted, letting out a roar that sounded like an enraged true dragon. The violent wave of vital energy knocked the two men flat onto the ground.

This man was also a martial artist, and a member of the Li family to boot. The Li family were no fools; naturally, they knew that high-level experts might come to seek vengeance. Therefore, hidden among the alleys and streets were martial artists disguised as ordinary citizens, stationed there for contingencies—and that moment had arrived.

The crowd’s intention to step forward vanished instantly. Even if they swarmed him together, they would be no match for this man, and by then, they would only throw away their own lives.

The spark of hope had just arrived, only to be snuffed out once more.

Just as that martial artist stepped out of the street and was about to round the corner, a streak of sword qi suddenly descended from above.

He collapsed to the ground instantly.

Dead silent. What kind of technique was this?

Could it be that he hadn't left after all?

Yet when the people on the scene searched the surrounding area thoroughly, they found no trace of him.

And yet, Xie Peiling had already walked a great distance; not a single shadow of him could be seen along the entire avenue. Why had a flash of light descended to strike here once more?

This closely resembled how Xie Peiling had dealt with the Li family members who had attempted to surround him earlier. But this time was different—that had been close-quarters combat, so where had this attack come from?

There had long been rumors in the pugilistic world that sword immortals walked the mortal realm, capable of soaring swords through heaven and earth from a hundred miles away to take a person's head.

The crowd found their answer.

This was a youthful sword immortal!

Calamity was about to befall the Li family! For they had provoked a sword immortal!

……

……

It was a fine, pleasant afternoon just past noon when Li Shen used moral coercion to trap two cultivators.

Li Shen led them into a secluded room and asked, "Immortals, when do you think my Li family will finally rise to prominence?"

The old Daoist priest parted his lips and said, "What rise to prominence? Among the vast masses of ordinary mortals, your southern Li family of Douyuan Commandery is already a thunderous, towering power, standing far above countless others."

With a chilling gaze, Li Shen stood up, stared into that aged face, and spoke word by word.

"You know very well that the prominence I speak of is not about comparing ourselves to them. How could those trivial things ever be worthy of matching my ambitions?"

The old Daoist priest replied, "It is exceedingly difficult."

"Just how difficult is it? Can I lead the Li family to the very pinnacle of power?"

Li Shen burst into loud laughter.

The old Daoist priest looked utterly troubled, simply closing his eyes and refusing to utter another word.

Seizing him by the collar, Li Shen cursed angrily, "You old Daoist priest ate my food, and refusing to pay was one thing, yet you still give me this cold, dismissive attitude. Who are you putting on airs for? Back then, you threw away all your dignity just to eat my leftovers, and now you aren't even willing to cast a divination for me?"

Turning his head away, the old Daoist priest revealed an aged face resembling an ancient tree, covered entirely in deep, weathered wrinkles. It held not a single word.

Li Shen chuckled derisively, hurled him directly to the ground, and planted a foot heavily upon his stomach, speaking with vicious malice.

"I see this immortal master of yours is a fake after all, possessing no real skills whatsoever. The old immortal on the high platform this morning truly had style. As for you? I see you're nothing more than a fraud. Never mind, since you love putting on a show, I’ll let you play your role to the bitter end. I once heard that an immortal’s physical body is tempered by thunder and fire, rendering it impervious even to swords and blades. Today, let’s test just how durable your body really is, and let you truly play the part of an immortal master. If it turns out to be fake, well, it will simply fulfill your wish and send you off to cultivate as a ghost immortal or a corpse-freed immortal."

Reaching out to touch his own face, the old Daoist priest merely sighed, lamenting that retribution had finally caught up with him today.

The young Daoist boy had cowered in the corner from the very beginning. Terrified to his core, he did not dare let out a single sound.

Turning his head, Li Shen walked toward him step by step.

Seeing Li Shen approach, the young Daoist boy instinctively scrambled backward with his hands until his palms pressed against the cold wall, realizing he could retreat no further.

"What do you think of your own mind? Your master is too old, so his brain probably isn't very tasty. But you're different—judging by how you're hiding here, your mind must be quite nimble. Later on, once I prepare your brain properly, I'll let your master have a good taste of it. Perhaps it will make him just as clever as you."

The young Daoist boy cried out in a lost voice, "No... please don't..."

"Don't?"

With a questioning murmur, Li Shen squatted down with a calm expression. "Why aren't you backing away anymore? Have you run out of road? Rest assured, you won't survive today, and that is not up for you to decide."

With those final words, he stood up and strode out of the room amidst a burst of hearty laughter.

Unable to conceal his sorrow, the old Daoist priest sighed as he looked at his disciple, who was curled up into a tight ball. Brushing the dust from his robes, he stepped over to the boy, patted his head, and offered a steady stream of gentle comfort.