Chapter 169: Shizun, It’s the First Forbidden Technique

"Nangong Xu!" one of the older men among the remaining

 spectators cried. "Is that him?"

 "It's Nangong Xu…"

 "Didn't he die ages ago?!"

 "Luo Fenghua killed him with his own hands… How is he… How is

 he still alive?"

 Ye Wangxi was stunned, her elegant face alarmingly pale. She shook

 her head and took a step back. "Yifu…" she murmured at last through

 trembling lips, her eyes full of tears.

 Xu Shuanglin glanced toward Ye Wangxi with a small smile. "Little

 Ye-zi, come over here next to Yifu. I won't hurt you."

 "Don't you dare touch her!" someone yelled ferociously. Ye Wangxi

 felt her wrist grabbed and turned to see Nangong Si, his eyes overflowing

 with a pain, raw as an open wound. "Ye Wangxi, get behind me."

 Xu Shuanglin chuckled. "My dear nephew, why is your temperament

 so different from your dad's? You're just like your mother."

 "Shut up! You've no right to mention my mom!"

 "Don't I?" Xu Shuanglin drawled. "Didn't you know? The one your

 mom liked best was originally me, not your dad."

 Nangong Si's face contorted in fury and disgust, madness and agony

 flashing through his eyes. The sight seemed to please Xu Shuanglin. He

cackled raucously, as if such bone-deep hatred nourished his soul.

 "Your dad ruined my reputation; he stole everything from me. But

 who cares! Rufeng Sect… Rufeng Sect was in his hands when it met its

 doom! So go on and hate me, Si-er—go on and hate me, Dage! Ha ha ha ha

 —did you all think poor little Nangong Xu would die so easily? Did you

 think I'd lie down in my tomb like a good boy and watch you all make

 merry in the living world?" His smile twisted into a leer. "You must be

 dreaming!" he spat.

 He turned his attention back to Nangong Liu, who was hanging on to

 life by an unbreakable thread. Xu Shuanglin yanked his brother up by the

 collar as if grabbing a palmful of filthy mud.

 "How well could the brilliant Rufeng Sect fare in the hands of such

 trash? Heh, how laughable! Sect leader or no, I still played you for a fool all

 these years. After all, didn't you wag your tail like a good dog and fetch me

 whatever I asked?" He gave Nangong Liu's bloody cheek a cheerful pat.

 The smile curving his lips was affectionate, but his eyes flashed with

 menace. "Dage, you're nothing but a pathetic coward, a useless piece of

 shit."

 Guyueye's sect leader Jiang Xi raised his voice. "Sir, did you show us

 these scenes for the sole purpose of destroying Rufeng Sect's centuries of

 history and tradition?"

 Xu Shuanglin turned his head and blinked. "Centuries of history?

 What of them? If traditions are abolished, they can be formed anew. If the

 seventy-two cities are burned, they can be built again. The only thing that

 will please me is the death of a human heart, its ashes scattering on the

wind." He flashed Jiang Xi a brilliant smile. "I'd like to destroy every one

 of your hearts."

 He spoke with a calm that was all the more terrifying when paired

 with the gleeful look on his face.

 Nangong Si had had enough. Vengeful fire blazed in his eyes, choked

 with the thick smoke of desperation. Those eyes harbored a hell-bent hatred

 and not a shred of self-preservation. Before the others could react, a whistle

 of his jade flute brought a faewolf as tall as three men bounding out of the

 woods, soaring through the air to land before him. Nangong Si vaulted onto

 his back, their shadows leaping forward before he was even fully seated.

 "Mantuo, come!" A holy weapon in the form of a dazzling bow

 appeared in Nangong Si's hand. With perfect form astride the faewolf, he

 drew the jade bow Mantuo, his features written with feverish hostility. He

 loosed three arrows in rapid succession, all flying toward Xu Shuanglin's

 vital points.

 Xu Shuanglin grinned. "Si-er, you naughty boy." He sidestepped the

 first two arrows and, seeing that he couldn't avoid the third, casually seized

 the flabby, half-dead body of his elder brother to block it.

 Despite everything, Nangong Liu was still Nangong Si's father.

 However callous Nangong Liu had been, their bond of blood was a habit

 carved into Nangong Si's bones. Nangong Si flinched, and his temple

 throbbed. His sharp canines cut into his lip, filling his mouth with blood…

 "Do you still want to play with Uncle?" Xu Shuanglin said with a

 genial smile. "If you do, I'll indulge you."

 "Nangong Xu! I'm going to kill you!"

 "What's a cute kid doing yelling about killing?"

Although Xu Shuanglin spoke leisurely, his movements were

 anything but as he turned to face off against his nephew.

 Within a few moves, it was clear that Xu Shuanglin's skill was

 exceptional. The audience gaped in awe. Some thought it was no wonder

 he'd been so bent out of shape when Nangong Liu was named the next sect

 leader. The difference in magical ability between these two brothers was

 like that between heaven and earth, between clouds and mud. The elder was

 hardly even fit to carry the younger's shoes.

 "Wow, he's good."

 "Didn't they say Nangong Xu stole his brother's techniques back in

 the day? How is he so powerful now?"

 "Looks like he'd give any top zongshi a run for his money…"

 The few onlookers who had initially thought to step to the fore with

 Nangong Si now shrank back one after another. Some quick-witted

 disciples, concluding that Rufeng Sect was irrevocably doomed, seized the

 chance to make their own escape amidst the chaos. Their cowardice proved

 contagious—in no time, most of the remaining cultivators had fled. Even

 the sectmates of the still-unconscious chess pieces turned tail and left their

 helpless sect siblings behind. Within moments, only a handful of people

 remained in the hunting grounds' forest.

 Mo Ran surveyed the scene. Only he, Chu Wanning, and Ye Wangxi

 had stayed behind—

 Wait, no—so had Jiang Xi.

 Now this was unexpected. Jiang Xi was the richest man in the world,

 the leader of Rainbell Isle, the most successful businessman on earth, and

 the head of the cultivation realm's foremost sect after Rufeng. No one

would've guessed he would willingly tend to such a stressful and thankless

 task.

 "Jiang-zhangmen…"

 At the sound of this small, quavering voice, Mo Ran looked back

 again in astonishment. There was one more person here. The man cowered

 behind a tangerine tree, face gray and lips trembling, yet had managed to

 remain while his fellows fled.

 Li Wuxin?!

 Li Wuxin—for it was indeed he—swallowed. His face was a greasy

 yellow, the jaundiced hue of rice husks, covered in a sheen of sweat. As the

 leader of the upper cultivation world's bottom-ranked sect, he looked

 uncertainly at the others. "Shall we make our move together?"

 Jiang Xi didn't answer right away. He swept a swift glance over the

 rest and said with practiced authority, "Li-zhuangzhu, you're with me. I'll

 save the chess pieces who are still fast asleep. You'll be responsible for

 conveying them to safety on your sword."

 "Yes, yes yes."

 "As for Chu-zongshi and Mo-zongshi…"

 "Mo Ran, go assist Nangong Si," said Chu Wanning. "I'll seal the

 Heavenly Rift before I join you."

 This Heavenly Rift was unlike Butterfly Town's. It wasn't teeming

 with evil ghosts—after the initial onrush, only the golden-red lava of hell

 still flowed from its maw. At this point the danger was much reduced, but

 given the massive size of the rip, Chu Wanning was undoubtedly best suited

 to mending it.

Mo Ran released Jiangui's Ten Thousand Coffins, and the twenty-odd

 young cultivators who'd become chess pieces tumbled to the ground. Jiang

 Xi wasted no time. He swept back his green sleeves and sprinkled a

 generous dose of medicinal powder over them to stabilize their weak

 condition. Then he inclined his head toward Li Wuxin. "If you please."

 Li Wuxin nodded and summoned his sword. The glowing, jade-green

 blade and was of an ordinary size, large enough to carry two or three

 people. Following Li Wuxin's silent incantation, it rapidly grew as it hung

 in midair until it was more than ten feet in length. Jiang Xi carried the

 unconscious cultivators onto the sword one by one. By the time he reached

 Xue Meng at the end of the line, Li Wuxin's weapon was at capacity.

 "I can't carry any more," said Li Wuxin. "Let's figure it out after I make

 this first trip."

 Jiang Xi glanced at their surroundings—sparks were flying on all

 sides, and the tide of spiritual energy was spiraling frighteningly out of

 control. The tangerine trees around them collapsed one after another,

 breaking like rotten twigs. The spot where they stood would soon share the

 same fate.

 With no other choice, he shot Xue Meng a resentful glare. "Forget it

 —you go ahead. I'll handle this last brat myself." He intoned in a deep

 voice, "Xuehuang, come."

 A silver longsword emitting light of a splendid blue hue materialized

 beneath his feet. Xuehuang was of exquisite make—the hilt delicate, the

 filigree beautiful beyond measure—but was obviously ill-suited for

 carrying a heavy load. Still, it could handle the weight of two people.

Jiang Xi scooped the unconscious Xue Meng into his arms. As he

 remembered Xue Meng's earlier disrespect and the fact that he was the son

 of Madam Wang and Xue Zhengyong, he couldn't keep the disgust from his

 face. Li Wuxin was dumbfounded by Sect Leader Jiang's expression. Surely

 Jiang Xi wouldn't toss Sisheng Peak's young master from the sky and allow

 him to be smashed to paste, would he?

 "What are you looking at?" Jiang Xi snapped. "Hurry up and go. Get

 them out of here so you can come back and help. We can't let Rufeng Sect

 burn to the ground like this."

 With the slowly awakening youngsters safely aboard, the two holy

 weapons rose on the wind and sped into the distance.

 By now, Chu Wanning had repaired all but the very last section of the

 Heavenly Rift, and Mo Ran had joined Nangong Si in furious battle against

 Xu Shuanglin. Mo Ran's strength was formidable, and Nangong Si was out

 to kill. Capable as Xu Shuanglin was, even he was beginning to flag under

 their combined onslaught. With the tides slowly turning against him, Xu

 Shuanglin called to Ye Wangxi, "Ye-zi, why are you just standing there?

 Will you let your yifu die like a dog? Come help me out already!"

 Ye Wangxi clenched her fists. Her expression was deeply pained, and

 she trembled from head to toe. But she refused to advance, instead

 retreating one step at a time.

 "You're really going to sit there without lifting a finger? Have you

 forgotten who carried you home from the tangerine grove when you were

 little? Who raised you? Who gave you your name?"

 "…No."

Ye Wangxi was on the verge of breaking down. But everyone—sect

 leader and elders included—had always treated her as a boy. This

 nightmarish situation, too, she faced with her usual stoicism. Her back was

 ruler-straight, and though a red flush stood out on her checks, she didn't

 break into sobs as an ordinary girl might. Yet she felt as though her body

 had disintegrated. If anyone were to nudge her right now, she was sure her

 skin and organs would slough away from her skeleton, dissolving into

 mush.

 Xu Shuanglin cursed under his breath, but he didn't coerce her

 further. He turned to fight the other two with renewed determination.

 The knife in his hand emitted a metallic screech. The blade was a top

grade weapon from Kunlun Taxue Palace, but it was at its limit. As

 Mo Ran's willow vine lashed it once again, it shattered and fell to the

 ground in pieces.

 "What are you going to fight with now?" Mo Ran asked coldly.

 Xu Shuanglin was running out of options.

 At that moment, there was a distant sound from above, like an

 echoing explosion from a bygone age. Xu Shuanglin jerked his head up to

 find Chu Wanning had patched the Heavenly Rift. The night sky above the

 forest of the hunting grounds returned to its customary black, and the lava

 of the underworld, cut off from its source, scattered instantly into motes of

 red-gold that drifted into the woods like fireflies.

 Chu Wanning floated down from the night sky against a backdrop of

 stars. His muted formal robes billowed in the gale, enhancing the porcelain

 paleness of his face and the peerless handsomeness of his features. But his

elegant appearance couldn't conceal the murderous intent that radiated from

 every inch of him.

 "Fuck." Xu Shuanglin gritted his teeth.

 He could barely handle Mo-zongshi. If Chu-zongshi joined the fray,

 was there anyone in the world of cultivation who could oppose their

 combined might?

 Xu Shuanglin took a step back. He slashed his palm with the knife to

 draw blood, which he used to smear a spell array on his forehead. "Still no

 rescue?" he growled. "How long are you gonna drag this out?!"

 As he lifted his hand, his fingernails lengthened, growing by several

 inches. Luo Fenghua's corpse still lay on the lake—Xu Shuanglin reached

 down and ripped his chest open, extracting his bloody spiritual core with a

 wet sucking noise. He tucked it into his lapels and leapt backward in flight.

 To everyone's surprise, he dragged his half-dead brother along with him. A

 twitch of his hand dispelled the barrier below him, and he jumped into

 Ganquan Lake, sinking straight to the bottom…

 Mo Ran started—the holy weapon Bugui, which had just been used

 to open the Heavenly Rift to the underworld, was still at the bottom of the

 lake!

 Xu Shuanglin was an adept swimmer. Even towing Nangong Liu's

 dead weight, his bare feet propelled him swiftly through the water to grab

 the jet-black blade in the middle of the lake. The moment he broke the

 surface, another crack appeared in the sky.

 Chu Wanning frowned. "A Heavenly Rift?"

 His tone was uncertain. The crack was small, only the height of a

 man, and emitted no dark qi. This was clearly no Heavenly Rift to the ghost

realm.

 With a great splash, Xu Shuanglin sprang from the lake, his brother

 in one hand and Bugui in the other. Brandishing the holy weapon, he hurled

 a beam of sword qi that slowed his three pursuers in their tracks, then seized

 the chance to flit upward.

 High above, a delicate hand reached out from the narrow rift and

 gripped Xu Shuanglin's arm.

 "It's the Space-Time Gate of Life and Death!" Chu Wanning

 exclaimed. Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, and his eyes went

 wide. He had maintained his composure until that moment—even the

 Zhenlong Chess Formation hadn't fazed him. But now, the color drained

 from his face. Stricken, his hands curled into fists within his sleeves.

 Mo Ran felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown in his face.

 He whipped around. "What?!"

 How?!

 Of the three forbidden techniques, this was the most powerful.

 Legend had it that it could rip apart time and space, defying fate to bring

 together people of distant eras. Before their very eyes was the most taboo of

 all the lost techniques of the cultivation world: the Space-Time Gate of Life

 and Death!