Chapter 5: The Seven Sages Ruler

                             

The demons gathered beneath Painting City, and more than 25,000 demon soldiers were slaughtered.

In an era of declining population growth among both immortals and demons, the small advantage Lingchi had painstakingly built was squandered in this battle.

Painting City, fortified by a spiritual vein, was unlike any other. To forcibly break its formation was not impossible. Yet if heavy troops were sent to attack, would the Nine Abyss Immortal Sect truly sit idly by?

The Spirit Terrace had attempted to seduce the city’s high priest several times. But Tai Shi Changling was no fool. The puppet leader Xu O had sacrificed his life to build the spiritual vein for Painting City. If Changling showed favor to the demons now, what would the people think?

He had already closed the city gates privately while Xu O and others fought, raising suspicion among the populace. Now, with the four demon lords greedy for death and the troops in the hands of the remaining three kings, the priestly temple was regarded as a thorn in the flesh. How could he surrender to the demons at such a time?

Lingchi, unwilling to advance or retreat in vain, ordered a full search for demon puppets. Scattered outside Painting City, they became priceless treasures. Each puppet was worth more than gold.

Various factions of the Immortal Sect began secretly purchasing demon puppets to preserve their bloodline foundations. The puppets fled back to Painting City one after another. In the end, what truly protected the race was the immortal divine tree, nourished by the city’s spiritual vein.

While the demon clan fell into chaos, the Nine Abyss Immortal Sect remained calm.

The Eight Veins Palm Courtyard was reluctant to accept Tianquzi’s handling of Painting City—admiration for Xu O, hatred for demons, and anxiety over the sect’s lack of successors weighed heavily. Yet no one dared speak. The Onmyo Academy was the foundation of Nine Abyss. Every disciple began there, learning the basics of magic, refining techniques, and studying the sects of other monks to know both self and opponent. To offend Tianquzi would mean trouble for every disciple.

The Eight Veins Palm Courtyard had no outlet for its frustration, for the Heavenly Road was closed.

In the Bitter Bamboo Forest, all magic circles were sealed. No one was allowed entry.

The clean room lay empty, its floor black as jade, smooth and cold. Tianquzi sat cross-legged at the center, black hair loose over his shoulders, clad only in a bamboo-blue robe.

He had always valued appearance, strict with himself, rarely so unkempt. Now, after long contemplation, he drew from the ruin cauldron a bundle of magic weapon fragments.

—Fragments of the Lotus Lamp of Forgiveness.

Blood stains clung to them, condensed into beads by lingering spiritual power.

He stroked each piece, his heart as dim as the lamp itself. Suddenly, a voice whispered: “Can you save my master?”

Startled, Tianquzi saw amid the fragments an emerald, shining like jadeite. Hidden among the shards, its aura was deep, unnoticed until now.

It leapt before him, a green light orb. “You can save her, can’t you?”

Tianquzi remembered that night—Xu O tormented by the goddess’s tears, leaning against him, asking if moon marrow could be exchanged for the Breath of Gods and Demons.

He whispered: “The Breath of Gods and Demons.”

The orb quivered, voice tinged with temptation. “My master is the purest-blooded demon puppet. Her child would perfectly inherit both parents’ roots. Even if you storm Painting City now, you will not find a more perfect puppet.”

Old relics nearby eased Tianquzi’s heart slightly. The Breath of Gods and Demons was not intelligent; its words were too naïve to sway him.

“Lingchi thought the same,” Tianquzi said. “So he lost 25,000 demon soldiers beneath Painting City. The twelve clan leaders must be cursing him in secret.”

The orb faltered, then tried again with flattery. “How can Lingchi compare to you? You are the head of the Onmyo Academy, the foremost of Nine Abyss’s nine courtyards. The entire sect breathes at your command…”

The praise was deft. Tianquzi asked quietly: “These days, has she suffered much?”

The orb hesitated, confused by his sudden concern. By rights, Tianquzi was older than Xu O, deserving of the title “senior.” He had always been cold to her, even watching her die in the Spirit Emperor’s seal. Why care now?

It answered cautiously: “Since escaping the demon clan, she has barely rested. Otherwise, Lingchi alone would not have defeated her.”

Tianquzi’s heart ached. She had long resolved to die, unwilling to yield, yet unable to endure the pain. She schemed endlessly, securing Painting City’s greatest benefit. Both Nine Abyss and Lingchi thought she would compromise, waiting for her final condition. But they were wrong.

There was no final condition. Perhaps she considered seeking aid, but only after death—when sect and demon clan would balance each other, preserving Painting City’s peace.

She had arranged everything for her people, even beyond her own death. Yet the puppet priests behind her had done only one thing: closed the city gates.

Tianquzi fell silent. The orb studied him nervously, then said: “My master is young but highly respected. If you save her, male and female puppets will be yours to choose. She even favors your disciple. Perhaps you’ll gain a prodigious grandson, ensuring your legacy…”

At the mention of Xi Yunjie, Tianquzi’s gaze turned cold. The orb faltered.

“Recognize me as your master,” Tianquzi commanded suddenly.

The orb hesitated, then glanced at the lamp fragments. Resolute, it said: “Fine—if you save her.”

It despised him inwardly. No wonder the puppet leader avoided him.

Tianquzi cut his finger, a drop of blood falling. The orb, though displeased, accepted it. He invoked the binding contract. He did not sever its bond with Xu O, only demoted her to secondary master.

The orb twitched, thinking him careless, but said nothing. It still longed for its old master. Xu O was kind. This man—an old, lonely figure—what future could he offer?

When the contract was complete, the orb pressed eagerly: “Now you can save her, right?”

Tianquzi murmured: “Yes.” He rose, traced the wall with his hand. The black stone parted, revealing rows of shelves filled with ancient scrolls, each locked by keys.

Dustless yet heavy with death, the chamber had long been unused.

Tianquzi walked to the final shelf. Arrays dissolved at his touch. He reached for the last black chest. Golden words flared: Forbidden Side Arts – Do Not Read.

He pressed his Onmyo insignia upon it. The chest opened, revealing thick bamboo scrolls.

He carried them out, closing the chamber behind him.

The orb lingered, awed. This was no chamber—it was a treasure vault of forbidden arts.

But Tianquzi ignored its chatter, carefully reading the scrolls. He poured blood beads from the lamp fragments into a jade box, mingled with Xu O’s blood and serpent venom, inseparable.

He frowned, then stripped his robe. The orb fell silent, stunned. “You… with a drop of blood, what are you doing?”

Tianquzi measured his chest, then cut it open with a thin blade. Pain seared beyond imagination. His protective relics magnified the agony, forcing clarity.

The heart-guarding treasure resisted extraction. His face turned ashen, but his hand did not falter. With deep cultivation, he pried free the moon marrow from his heart. Light filled the room, clearing the air.

He placed the marrow into the jade box. Blood wrapped it swiftly. He stitched his wound, pale but steady.

“You should have asked for help,” the orb said softly.

“No one to trust,” Tianquzi replied.

Using forbidden arts was a grave crime. He would not implicate disciples or elders.

The orb felt pity. So many years, and not a single friend to rely on.

Tianquzi added treasures, balancing immortal qi and demon breath perfectly.

The orb was moved. “Nine Abyss has endless treasures. Even moon marrow, each disciple has one! Don’t worry, my master will repay you. She’ll give you a prodigious grandson!”

Tianquzi paused. “Breath of Gods and Demons.”

“Yes?”

“Yunjie has no moon marrow.”

The orb froze. “Impossible! That night…” Then realization struck. It fell silent, lips sealed.

The next day, Tianquzi confessed to Second Elder Yiyejian, admitting to forbidden arts. The sect was shaken.

Nine Abyss forbade disciples from reversing the natural order. As head of the Onmyo Academy, Tianquzi’s crime was doubled.

In the Grand Hall, the four elders sat in judgment.

Zai Shuangui trembled with fury. “Forbidden arts! What forbidden arts?”

Tianquzi lowered his gaze, refusing to answer.

Zai Shuangui’s voice rose, like a frog swelling with rage. “Why did you use them? As the head of a courtyard, do you not know the Nine Abyss rules?”

Tianquzi remained calm, repeating only: “I know my mistake. I accept punishment.”

Elder Yiyejian, his senior uncle, spoke with measured tone. “The head of the Onmyo Academy has always known restraint, cautious in action. Today’s matter must have cause. If there is a reasonable explanation, perhaps…”

The other two elders remained silent. Though their role was to supervise and restrain the courtyard head, Tianquzi had always been self-disciplined. The matter was strange.

Yet Tianquzi offered no defense. “A moment’s selfishness. No reason.”

Zai Shuangui pointed at him, speechless with rage. Yiyejian could not shield him. Nine Abyss had countless disciples; if the head was not punished, what precedent would that set?

“Then by sect law, punishment must be carried out.”

The next day, Tianquzi was brought to the Rising Mist Platform. His sentence: three hundred lashes from the Seven Sages Ruler.

The Ruler was a heavy artifact of punishment. Before the eyes of all, no one dared show mercy.

By the hundredth lash, Tianquzi’s hidden wound flared. He spat blood upon the platform. His back was already torn and bloody.

Zai Shuangui’s anger surged, while Yiyejian whispered, “How are you?”

Tianquzi shook his head faintly. “No matter. Continue.”

The Breath of Gods and Demons crouched silently upon his sword, for once without chatter, watching with rare solemnity.

When the punishment ended, Tianquzi could not rise. Xi Yunjie rushed forward to support him, but Tianquzi pushed him away.

Zai Shuangui, though furious, could not allow such stubbornness. He stepped forward himself, grasping Tianquzi’s wrist. His face changed instantly. “You… you carry an old wound!”

Tianquzi, half-conscious, murmured: “It is nothing.”

Zai Shuangui roared: “Summon the head of the Medical Courtyard!”

Master Jun Qianzi hurried over. He had prepared, knowing Tianquzi would suffer punishment. But when he took his pulse, his expression darkened. “Even the heart-guarding treasure… gone?”

Tianquzi raised his hand, silencing him. Jun Qianzi, troubled, quickly prescribed medicine.

The courtyard bustled with urgency until at last the Bitter Bamboo Forest grew quiet again.

The Breath of Gods and Demons returned to Tianquzi’s bedside. His wounds were grave; three hundred lashes from the Seven Sages Ruler could kill even Xi Yunjie.

It nudged him gently. He was not asleep—his spirit dared not rest in such peril.

After a long silence, the orb asked softly: “You… you don’t mean to become our puppet leader’s consort, do you?”

Tianquzi’s reaction was slow. At length he asked: “What consort?”

The Breath of Gods and Demons explained: “The puppet leader of Painting City always chooses a husband from the four demon kings—Greed, Thought, Anger, and Infatuation. If the leader has a heart, it is best to balance the ruler with three sides. But in the last battle, the Greedy King was slain. You… you might have a chance.”

In truth, there was no chance. The puppet clan forbade marriage with outsiders. But seeing Tianquzi weakened, the orb offered comfort.

White lies were effective. Even at death’s edge, Tianquzi’s spirit steadied beneath its words.

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