novelraw Chapter 127: Bolt from the Blue
Chapter 127: Bolt from the Blue
The first day was preliminaries only. Zhang Shishi didn’t even need to step onto the platform yet.
But the rogue cultivators’ bracket turned out to be unexpectedly gripping.
The early rounds were nothing special—standard scrappy exchanges. Then the deeper it went, the wilder it became. These loose cultivators played dirty in ways that made the sect disciples’ jaws drop: hidden poisons smeared on boot soles, talismans disguised as trash, movement arts that looked like drunken staggering until they weren’t. Every trick was born from desperation and ingenuity. Nearly ten thousand spectators were hooked, roaring approval with every low blow.
Wei Minniang had spent her youth locked away in the inner chambers of a great clan. She’d never seen anything like this. Mother and daughter were glued to the rail, shouting encouragement, even slipping spirit stones into the betting pools for fun. Wei Yue’er’s small face was flushed with excitement, tiny fists pumping the air.
Zhang Shishi’s expression grew darker with each match.
“These top ten from the rogue preliminaries… none of them are weaker than He Yu. We really have been frogs at the bottom of a well.”
Qi Xiu wasn’t surprised.
White Mountain bred hard people. In an environment this cutthroat, it would be stranger if monsters didn’t crawl out.
The preliminary champion was a middle-aged rogue named Duoluo Xin. Qi Refining Perfection. His metal-affinity innate technique flowed with terrifying precision—sharp, adaptive, vicious. The man himself was sly as a fox, always one step ahead when it mattered. Barring catastrophe, he’d claim a market property in the main bracket without breaking a sweat.
By the end of the day, his name had rocketed to second place on the unofficial strength list—only behind a disciple from the Many Treasures Pavilion.
None of it concerned Chu Qin Sect.
Zhang Shishi, after a full day of having his ego methodically dismantled, finally let go of the pressure. Tomorrow he just needed to show up, fight with dignity, and go home. Winning wasn’t on the table anymore.
The group left the arena in good spirits, laughing and chatting as they merged into the dispersing crowd and returned to their own teahouse.
A mortal attendant named Bai Wu—Bai Muhan’s clansman—hurried up as soon as they stepped inside.
“Someone’s been waiting upstairs for half the day.”
Qi Xiu frowned. “Why didn’t you come get us? That’s basic hospitality.”
Bai Wu shrank. “This one wanted to inform Sect Leader, but the guest refused to give his name or purpose. He insisted on waiting right here. This lowly one… could only obey.”
Qi Xiu exchanged a glance with Wei Minniang. He told her to stay downstairs with Yue’er, then motioned for Zhang Shishi to follow.
They climbed the stairs. Knocked. Entered.
A Foundation Building cultivator they didn’t recognize sat waiting. He rose, offered the barest salute, then wordlessly produced several items.
Qi Xiu looked.
The world tilted.
A low buzz filled his skull.
His knees buckled. He staggered, catching himself on the doorframe.
Behind him—thud.
Zhang Shishi hit the floor like a felled tree.
Qi Xiu’s vision blurred. Tears spilled before he could stop them, hot and fast. His hands shook violently as he reached out.
The Moonshadow Mysterious Ice Sword.
The Flowing Water Bodhi Beads.
A handful of other treasures and talismans—all things He Yu had carried on him every day.
“How… how did He Yu die?”
The question scraped out of him, draining every last drop of strength. More than ten years of raising the boy, of hoping, of watching him grow—now only objects remained.
“Die?”
The stranger blinked. Then burst out laughing.
“Who said he died?”
Qi Xiu’s heart slammed against his ribs. Relief crashed over him so hard he almost blacked out.
“Why didn’t you say that first?!”
The cultivator waved a hand, still chuckling.
“He Yu successfully established his Foundation Building in my Xi Meng Mountain. He has formally joined the Xi Meng Sect. I was sent to return everything he received from your sect.”
The words landed like a second thunderclap.
Qi Xiu and Zhang Shishi spoke at the same instant.
“What?!”
Zhang Shishi had only just regained consciousness. He exploded off the floor, lunging at the stranger.
“Did you force him?!”
“Show some respect!”
The Foundation Building cultivator flicked his sleeve. An invisible force slammed Zhang Shishi backward.
“We of Xi Meng Sect have a Nascent Soul Ancestor overseeing us. What could we possibly want with one new Foundation Building junior? He saw that our Grotto-Heaven Paradise perfectly matched his nature. He begged to stay. Joining the sect was the price he paid for the privilege of breaking through there.”
The man tossed the items into Qi Xiu’s arms.
“Duty discharged. Farewell.”
He turned, stepped straight through the open window, and vanished into the evening sky.
Zhang Shishi collapsed onto the floorboards again, hair wild, muttering over and over.
“Impossible. Impossible. He Yu wouldn’t do this. It has to be… it has to be…”
Qi Xiu felt the same fracture inside his chest.
He Yu defecting?
The news hit harder than any blade.
“They forced him,” Zhang Shishi rasped. “They must have. I’m going to confront them. We can’t just let this happen!”
Qi Xiu’s voice was hoarse.
“Yes. We’re going. Right now.”
Zhang Shishi scrambled downstairs, shouting for the rest of the sect.
“Someone from another sect came! They took He Yu! Sect Leader and I are going to get him back!”
Zhan Yuan blinked. “Took him… and then came to tell us?”
Qi Xiu, still pale, recounted the conversation word for word.
Zhan Yuan exploded.
“I knew it! That spoiled brat! You people raised him like a prince and now look! Senior Wang Guan was right about him all along!”
“Shut your mouth!”
Qi Xiu and Zhang Shishi barked in unison.
Zhang Shishi launched himself at Zhan Yuan like a madman, clawing and grappling. “You’ve been waiting for this day, haven’t you? Happy now? Enjoying the show?”
Zhan Yuan wasn’t expecting the usually composed Zhang Shishi to fight like a street thug. He took several bloody scratches across the face before he managed to shove the bigger man off and retreat.
“Enough!”
Qi Xiu’s roar finally stopped them.
He looked up. Wei Minniang stood in the doorway, holding a crying Wei Yue’er, eyes full of worry. The rest of the disciples had gathered behind her.
His shoulders slumped.
“There’s no proof yet. I’m going to Xi Meng Mountain. Shishi is coming with me. The rest of you—stop watching the tournament. Return to the sect immediately. Seal the gates. Wait for our news.”
Zhang Shishi was already pacing. “We should leave now. The longer we wait—”
Qi Xiu chopped the side of his neck with the edge of his palm. Zhang Shishi crumpled again.
Silence at last.
Bai Muhan stepped forward, voice steady.
“Where even is Xi Meng Mountain? You need at least a rough location before you rush off.”
Qi Xiu’s head throbbed. He cycled his Know One’s Heart talent quietly, forcing calm back into his veins. He assigned duties, sent scouts to gather information on Xi Meng Mountain’s whereabouts, then turned to Wei Minniang and the others.
A hurried farewell.
Then he lifted the unconscious Zhang Shishi onto his shoulder and stepped out into the night, heading northwest once more.