One Sword Freezes Fourteen Provinces, Part 1

The moment Bi Xiao appeared, many in Qianmen’s ranks paled.

“Father… Sect Leader, what do we do?” Chen Jianxue turned to Chen Qingmu, her usually serene face tinged with urgency.
Chen Qingmu’s expression was equally grave. “It seems today’s matter won’t end peacefully.”
“…Understood. I’ll inform the disciples.”

Their mental exchange concluded, Chen Jianxue moved to leave, casting a worried, apologetic glance at Li Wuhuan as she passed.

As they brushed shoulders, she transmitted, “If I’d known it would come to this, I wouldn’t have brought you back to Qianmen.”
Li Wuhuan smiled carelessly. “I told you, I came for you. No matter what happens, I’ll face it with you.”
“Thank you, Wuhuan.”

Chen Jianxue nodded lightly to him.
But with danger looming, this wasn’t the time for sentiment. She didn’t pause, heading straight for the disciples.

Chu Tianchen, withdrawing his gaze from her retreating figure, approached Chen Qingmu’s seat. Leaning slightly, he gripped the chair’s backrest tightly. “A reminder, Sect Leader: Qianmen isn’t yours alone, nor is it Lord Hanyuan’s alone. We will never agree to risk all our disciples’ lives for one person.”

“You truly think today’s matter concerns only Lord Hanyuan?”
Chen Qingmu turned, his cold gaze sweeping over Chu Tianchen. “All these years, I’ve turned a blind eye to your faction’s dealings, even your ties with Fuyu Palace. Yet you’re still so naive. Who do you think Fuyu Palace fears most, wants to eliminate most? Without Lord Hanyuan, the future Qianmen Daoist, holding Qianmen together for a century, where would Qianmen be today?
You can retreat, you can yield—but if you yield today, Qianmen will one day have no ground to stand on! I will never let you trample our ancestors’ glory or lead Qianmen to such a fate. That’s why I’ll never let someone like you become Sect Leader!
If you dare harbor dissent today, within ten breaths, I’ll have your blood stain this plaza as a sacrifice to Qianmen!”

“…”

Chu Tianchen’s grip on the chair froze.
He and Chen Qingmu, peers for over a century, had always seen the Sect Leader as a spineless pushover. He’d scoffed, believing Chen Qingmu only claimed the role due to being Mu Jiutian’s disciple and the depletion of Qianmen’s first- and second-generation disciples in the immortal-demon war—a weakling who lucked into leadership.

But now, facing Chen Qingmu’s piercing eyes, Chu Tianchen realized his mistake.

This was an aged lion, who had trodden over countless comrades’ bones and blood to carry Qianmen to this day.
No one could imagine what he’d endured. He showed only aged mildness and weakness.
But cross his line, and this lion would bare its long-hidden, ferocious claws, tearing offenders to shreds to honor the abyss of loss buried in his heart.

Though only a mental exchange, Qianmen’s tension didn’t escape notice.

Wen Buyan inwardly cursed Chu Tianchen as useless, fearing his mishandling would anger Bi Xiao. Cautiously approaching the highest platform, he transmitted a brief message.
“Ancestor…”

Bi Xiao waved dismissively, his kindly face responding mentally, “Mu Jiutian’s disciple, hm? A name I haven’t heard in ages. An old friend, in a way.”

Wen Buyan’s mouth twitched.
He’d become Fuyu Palace’s master within the last century and knew of the plot three hundred years ago at Two Realms Mountain, where Fuyu Palace and demonic cultivators buried one of Qianmen’s top prodigies.
To call a foe he’d personally helped destroy an “old friend”…

“In that case, for the sake of that old friend, let’s not push too far,” Bi Xiao said softly.

“—What?” Wen Buyan, confused, looked up at the lofty Bi Xiao.

Bi Xiao’s voice then boomed across the plaza. “Qianmen friends, why bicker and harm your harmony? Hear me out.
Convicting the future Qianmen Daoist based solely on a mirror is indeed improper. But have you forgotten? The silver-threaded lotus crown is the supreme crown, wearable only by those with a pure, unsullied heart.”
Looking down, Bi Xiao smiled slowly. “Why not have Lord Hanyuan enter the Purification Pool for the ‘Crown Verification’ rite today?”

“…”

The plaza erupted in shock.

Only Yun Yao, at the forefront, was puzzled. She tilted her head, transmitting to Mu Hanyuan, “Crown Verification? What’s that?”

Though unclear on the details, Yun Yao sensed something off. After asking, she noticed Mu Hanyuan’s gaze shift, as if stirred.
He replied, “The Purification Pool verifies the silver-threaded lotus crown, the final step to becoming the Qianmen Daoist.”

“…?”

Yun Yao froze for three breaths.
She finally said, “Pushing you to the Daoist seat? Has this old dog gone mad?”

“Ancestor…”

Wen Buyan, for the first time, aligned with Yun Yao’s thoughts, suspecting his ancestor’s long seclusion had addled his mind to propose such a self-damaging act.

“You’ve been in seclusion for centuries and don’t know Mu Hanyuan’s nature. It’s widely known in Qianmen Realm—he shows no emotions, no desires. Not only would he pass the Purification Pool’s Crown Verification, but even Fantian Temple’s celestial trials wouldn’t faze him!”

“Whether he’s swayed by emotions or desires, or can pass the Crown Verification, doesn’t concern me,” Bi Xiao said unhurriedly, his long brows drooping.

“What?” Wen Buyan blinked. “Then what’s your goal, Ancestor?”

Bi Xiao’s half-closed eyes opened slightly, a cold glance at his foolish descendant. “It’s for why I emerged from seclusion—the Golden Lotus on him. I need to confirm if it’s the immortal treasure that can break Qianmen’s divine curse.”

Wen Buyan’s eyes lit up, nearly feral with excitement. “If it’s truly the treasure that can breach the celestial gate…”

Bi Xiao’s snowy brows twitched, his gaze lifting to the sky.
Beneath his compassionate facade, his eyes glinted with greed, madness, and venomous malice. “If confirmed, let alone killing a would-be Qianmen Daoist, even sacrificing the entire Qianmen Realm to ascend to immortality—why not?”

“—!”

The Purification Pool wasn’t a literal pool but a sacred treasure, sealed in the Immortal Alliance’s vault.
Most knew it by name, not sight.
Yun Yao was no exception.

When Bi Xiao waved his sleeve, revealing a mirror-like surface several meters wide above the platform, Yun Yao asked Mu Hanyuan warily, “Is this really the Purification Pool? Bi Xiao didn’t tamper with it, did he?”

“It is.”
Mu Hanyuan lowered his gaze, sensing the strong resonance between his silver-threaded lotus crown and the pool’s purification stone without looking.
“The crown and the stone are one, resonating only with each other.”

“That’s strange then.”
Yun Yao frowned, baffled. “Everyone knows your saintly nature. The crown has been pure since you wore it. Passing the pool should be effortless. Why would he be so kind as to help you ascend?”

“…”

Silence fell beside her.

Yun Yao, puzzled, turned to look at Mu Hanyuan, only to hear Bi Xiao’s voice from the highest platform.

“Lord Hanyuan, please enter the Purification Pool.”

“…”
Mu Hanyuan stood still.

After a few breaths, Yun Yao heard his soft sigh in her mind: “I’m sorry, Master.”

“?”

Her heart skipped, and she reached to stop him.

Too late—
His snow-white sleeve brushed her fingertips, and his solitary figure stepped onto the pool’s mirror-like surface.
The silver-threaded lotus crown glowed, its suppressed silver-white threads converging, flowing around Mu Hanyuan like spiritual light—
Ripples spread across the pool’s surface.

In an instant, the light reached the pool’s edge, and a pillar of brilliance shot skyward from Mu Hanyuan!

The pillar engulfed his figure.

Amid gasps, the initially silver-white pillar began to shimmer with vibrant hues—red, orange, blue, purple…
Red dominated, nearly overtaking the entire column.

Under her black veil, Yun Yao’s face shifted.

Even without knowing the pool’s workings, she could tell this was wrong.

She almost suspected Fuyu Palace’s tampering, but glancing up, she saw Bi Xiao frowning, seemingly puzzled, exchanging mental words with Wen Buyan, who gaped at the seven-colored pillar.

It was as Yun Yao suspected.

Bi Xiao’s voice was cold. “This is your ‘emotionless, desireless’ prodigy? How am I to probe now?”
“…Ancestor, I… I don’t understand…” Wen Buyan stared at the pillar. “How could this be…”
“This chaos will cost me a tenth of my cultivation to probe accurately. If it’s not a sacred relic, after the competition, I’ll hold you accountable!”
“…”

Yun Yao raised a brow below, wondering what frightened Wen Buyan’s face so pale.

But as the moment passed, astonished voices surged like a tide—

“How is this possible!?”
“The Daoist moved by emotion—this is forbidden by heaven…”
“Who could stir Lord Hanyuan so deeply?!”
“Look, the pillar’s showing images!”
“…”

All eyes turned to the pillar, where countless fragments of light, edged in faint or deep red, appeared.

Scenes varied—ancient temples, deep mountains, midnight villages—endless and diverse.
The only constant was a female figure beside Mu Hanyuan in every scene.
Clad in red, shrouded in mist, her face was indistinct.

“Why can’t we see clearly?”
“It’s his soul shielding her—he’s hiding her identity.”
“Such deep devotion…”
“There aren’t many people close to Lord Hanyuan, are there?”
“…”

If Yun Yao had noticed, she’d have seen the subtle glances cast her way.
But she didn’t.

Her mind was blank, staring at the countless images in the pillar.

She recognized every scene.
She had been in every one.

[I’m sorry, Master.]

Mu Hanyuan’s words before entering the pool echoed in her mind, their meaning dawning on her.

Yun Yao clenched her fists, closing her eyes beneath the veil, breathing deeply.

Her racing heart must be from shock at her disciple’s audacity.

On the lotus platform, Bi Xiao’s eyes snapped open, a suppressed gleam in their depths, his voice trembling with excitement yet restrained.

Moments later, a booming voice shook the plaza—

“As Qianmen Daoist, daring to indulge in emotions is unforgivable! The Tianzhao Mirror’s prophecy indeed foretells calamity. A demon destined to destroy the world—how can we let him run rampant? Today, Fuyu Palace, on behalf of the Immortal Alliance, will punish him!
Seize Mu Hanyuan, strip his crown with thunder punishment, and lock him in the forbidden celestial prison—”

Boom!!

A thunderclap shattered the amplified voice.

Bi Xiao’s face twisted, staring in shock at the suddenly cloud-darkened sky.

His expression turned ferocious. “This is the Immortal Alliance—who dares—”

BOOM!!!

A deafening thunder tore through the clouds, a massive black-purple arc of lightning, hundreds of meters long, crashing toward the plaza.
Cultivators’ faces changed, raising spiritual shields.
But even the lightning’s stray arcs shattered them into countless motes of light, scattering like rain.

In the panic, high-realm cultivators regained their senses.

On the five lotus platforms, among the minor sects’ leaders, voices rose—angry, jealous, horrified, envious—

“Tribulation stage!”
“Tribulation thunder!”
“Someone’s breaking through!?”
“Madness! Legend says breaking into Tribulation requires eighty-one days of preparation to align body, soul, and dao. Who would break through here, now? Are they insane?”

Most mid- and low-realm cultivators remained in shocked convulsions, unable to process the words—the terrifying thunder felt like it could rip their souls apart, a magnified terror of mortal death.

Only one disciple stayed relatively calm.
At Qianmen’s rear, Ding Xiao patted her chest, shaken. “No wonder when Martial Aunt appeared this morning, the sky was brewing thunder…”

The divine thunder, like heavenly punishment, shattered countless shields, plunging toward the crowd’s eyes—

Boom!

At the lotus platform.
Above the Purification Pool.

As the scattered light cleared, a disheveled, snow-white figure appeared.

Seated cross-legged, a long zither across his lap, blood trickled from Mu Hanyuan’s red lips.

“…”
He coughed softly, swallowing the metallic taste.

The crowd was stunned.

“Is Lord Hanyuan entering Tribulation stage?”
“No, his aura’s still Unity stage.”
“Did he fail the breakthrough?”
“How could he? Failing Tribulation means death!”
“Wait, look beside him—”

A slender, pale hand rested on Mu Hanyuan’s shoulder, gently channeling spiritual energy.

The black veil, blown off by the thunder’s aftershock, revealed Yun Yao’s flowing black hair. Unfazed, she frowned, looking down at her increasingly incomprehensible disciple.
“Blocking Tribulation thunder for me at Unity stage? Are you truly fearless of death?”

“I won’t die,” Mu Hanyuan closed his eyes, his bloodstained lips curving slightly. “Even if it’s for…”

“Yun! Yao!!” A venomous cry erupted from the platform above.

Yun Yao looked up slightly.
Meeting the furious, wide-eyed gaze of the white-bearded daoist, she sneered coldly. “Bi Xiao, facing your ancestor without a bow? In just three hundred years, has your false righteousness been fed to the dogs?”

A tidal wave of shocked voices rose.
“Yun Yao? Which Yun Yao?”
“Qianmen’s little martial uncle?”
“When did she emerge from seclusion?”
“No way—that’s Lord Hanyuan’s junior sister, Yun Yaojiu?”
“…”

Amid the uproar, Bi Xiao’s face twitched, glaring at the slender yet terrifying figure below. “Even if it’s you, you can’t stop… Mu Hanyuan, as Daoist, daring to indulge in emotions, must face the Immortal Alliance’s celestial prison and thunder punishment…”

Before he finished, the ground beneath trembled.

The earlier thunder had cracked the plaza’s surface, and now the fissures widened, shaking—
The entire Tianshan seemed to quake.

In this earth-shattering chaos, a sword’s cry rang in every cultivator’s ears across the immortal domain.

Long, urgent, excited…
As if it had waited three hundred years.

In the Western Region, Fantian Temple.
In a quiet chamber, a demon monk opened his eyes, meeting the golden-robed abbot opposite.
Liao Wu smiled with closed eyes. “She’s finally back.”

In the East Sea, Phoenix Immortal Mountain.
Resting on ancient warm jade, the Phoenix Clan’s leader raised its radiant, jewel-like feathers, its glassy eyes fixed on a direction.
After a moment, it snorted, preening its feathers. “…A scourge for a millennium.”

In the Northern Border, by the Wugui River before Two Realms Mountain.
Buried hundreds of meters deep in ice and snow, a translucent ice-jade cicada stirred in the dark.
Its wings quivered, a silent sigh echoing from the abyss.

At the Immortal Alliance, Tianshan’s peak.

On Jiushi Valley’s platform, Xiao Jiushi was the first to sense it, sighing helplessly. “Yun Yao, must you make such a scene?”
With a wave of his sleeve, he vanished with Jiushi Valley’s disciples.

Yun Yao, as if deaf to it, lowered her gaze and spoke clearly.

“Naihe, return.”

Boom—

Tianshan’s peak shattered in an instant.
An avalanche like the world’s end roared, and in the cultivators’ horrified eyes, a peerless sword light burst from the snow, its tail blazing, melting all ice in its path—

BOOM!!

The sword light pierced the five platforms.
It landed in Yun Yao’s hand.

The world fell silent.

In that moment, the highest platform slowly split in two.

“Pfft…”

A spray of blood arced through the air. Bi Xiao, once an immortal figure, collapsed, spitting blood, his robes torn, stained red.

“Ancestor—!”
“Ancestor!!!”

Amid Fuyu Palace’s panicked cries, Yun Yao raised her hand, flicking a speck of blood from the Naihe Sword.