Chapter 75: The Mo Patriarch Enters Beiluo

The imperial capital of the Great Zhou Dynasty was shielded by six great fortresses—Beiluo, Zuilong, Tong'an, Pingnan, Yuanchi, and Wangtian. These six cities formed the unshakable defense of the empire. As long as they stood, the capital would remain unthreatened, and the emperor within could rest easy, untouched by the storms beyond.

Zuilong City—one of the six mighty bastions—was governed by Jiang Li, a loyal and stalwart general of his era. He had once followed the former emperor of Great Zhou into the western campaigns, repelling the Xirong and banishing the Guifang. His martial prowess shook the Five Hu tribes, forcing them to retreat beyond the borders, not daring to cross the thunderous line of defense. In those days, Great Zhou was at the zenith of its power—outside stood Jiang Li, the war god of the empire, and within, the sagacious Grand Preceptor Kong Xiu. With such strength, none dared stir.

But with the sudden and tragic death of that wise sovereign, chaos erupted. Civil unrest tore through the land, the martial world fell into disarray, and the Hundred Schools of thought contended in fervent rivalry. The empire descended into turmoil. As prosperity reached its peak, decline inevitably followed—such was the lament of the age.

Late into the night, in a secluded courtyard nestled within Zuilong City, a girl in coarse linen squatted on the ground, cradling a tiny chick in her palms. Her name was Bai Qingniao. Suddenly, she awoke with a start, unbalanced and startled, falling back onto the ground.

"An... immortal?!" she gasped, glancing around in bewilderment. The chick in her hands curled up, while the others wandered under the cover of darkness, trailing behind the mother hen in harmony—a tranquil scene.

"Do immortals truly exist in this world?" Bai Qingniao whispered, bringing the chick closer. "Little one, I'm talking to you..." The chick stared back, utterly baffled.

Bathed in moonlight, her face flickered with emotion. After a pause, she exhaled and placed a hand on her chest, still reeling from fear.

Buzz—

Suddenly, a wave of warmth surged through her mind. Ancient scripture seemed to come alive, dancing within her consciousness.

"Nine Phoenix Transformation... Is this the celestial art passed down by the immortals?" she murmured, eyes slowly opening, filled with doubt.

Nine Phoenix Transformation: "Thirty years in the east of the river, thirty in the west. All things evolve with order. The weak may yet become strong, and even a chick may become a phoenix."

Bai Qingniao: "...???"

Where was the fabled immortal fate meant for her? This so-called fate seemed to concern turning chicks into phoenixes—what did that have to do with her?

As she delved deeper, she realized the Nine Phoenix Transformation allowed her to nurture nine phoenixes, each sharing a spiritual bond with her, able to return spiritual energy to her being.

She laughed bitterly—was she to transform from a chicken girl to a phoenix matron?

Following the instructions, she guided a thread of immortal energy into the chick clutched in her hand. At once, the chick flared to life—wings outspread, claws taut, releasing a contented chirp. Its eyes grew clearer, as though touched by sentience. That gaze nearly melted Bai Qingniao's heart.

Clearly, the chick had been changed by the spirit energy—it was no longer ordinary.

"This won't do," she murmured. "You've awakened intelligence. I can't just raise you for soup anymore. You deserve a name... Let's call you Little Phoenix One. When the others hatch, they'll be Little Phoenix Two, Three…"

She gently stroked the chick's head, grinning beneath the moonlight.

Little Phoenix One rolled its eyes in disdain.

Just then, the sound of footsteps stirred outside the courtyard. The creak of the wooden gate echoed.

"Qingniao…" came a hoarse voice.

Startled, Bai Qingniao stuffed Little Phoenix One into her blouse. It poked its head out defiantly, as if rebelling against fate.

"Granny!" she called out cheerfully.

An old woman, stooped and white-haired, approached with a lantern and a basket.

"Qingniao, your Uncle Jiang will visit tomorrow. Brew a pot of chicken soup for him. You know how he loves your cooking."

Hearing this, Bai Qingniao's face lit up.

"Uncle Jiang's coming? Wonderful! I'll rise early and prepare a fine soup."

She spoke with genuine joy.

Meanwhile, Little Phoenix One, squished in her blouse, felt a sudden chill. The fierce resistance it harbored quietly vanished.

After the old woman left, Bai Qingniao put aside the Nine Phoenix scripture, merrily returned to her room, and even brought out her precious rouge and powders, wrapped in silk, preparing to dress up in the morning.

Outside the courtyard, the lantern's flame flickered and died.

The old woman straightened her spine, her stooped form vanishing. The white hair dissipated, revealing a graceful, elegant figure.

In the distance, beneath the silver moonlight, a man in full armor stood with hands behind his back.

"My lord, I have spoken to Qingniao," the woman reported, eyes filled with fervent admiration.

This man was none other than Jiang Li, the Grandmaster and Lord of Zuilong City.

"Tonight is a night of bloodshed. Return to your post," he said indifferently.

"At once." The woman lowered her head. The adoration in her eyes faded like ripples in water. With a powerful leap, she vanished into the darkness.

Once she was gone, Jiang Li slowly turned. Beneath the armor, his stoic face softened slightly as he gazed at the humble courtyard—a faint smile gracing his lips.

Imperial Capital – Book Pavilion, Second Floor

Kong Nanfeng gradually awakened. In the distance, the Grand Preceptor sat on a rocking chair, gazing at the moon with a profound gaze.

Mo Tianyu, sipping wine while reading, had changed since their visit to Beiluo City. Once wild and unruly, he had grown diligent and introspective—though his obsession with fortune-telling remained unchanged.

Kong Nanfeng gently coughed, breaking the silence.

"Master…"

The Grand Preceptor turned his gaze.

"Have you completed your study of the immortal fate at Wolong Ridge?"

Kong Nanfeng shook his head, then rose from his chair, adjusting his scholar's robe. His eyes gleamed with clarity and resolve.

"Master… I was just now drawn into a celestial realm by an immortal, and there, I met one."

A tense stillness settled over the study.

The Grand Preceptor's ancient eyes suddenly sparked with light. Mo Tianyu's hand trembled, nearly dropping the bamboo scroll.

Southern Prefecture – Tang Residence, Firewood Shed

In the dark, Tang Yimo opened his bruised eyes and coughed softly. With effort, he sat up, thoughts churning.

Within his mind, a scripture pulsed. A crimson glow flickered across his gaze.

He recalled the words spoken by the immortal in his dream. Pressing his lips together, his resolve only deepened.

"Eight Meridian Demon Armor: Sacrifice the self to become a demon, protect all that must be protected."

"Within man lie eight extraordinary meridians. Each breakthrough requires a sacrifice of vitality, yielding the power of one heavenly cycle. Once all eight open, one may shatter mountains and rivers."

His murmurs echoed softly in the dark, and though his body was weary and battered, his eyes gleamed like starlight.

Within the Dao Platform's Space

Lu Fan drifted in still contemplation. He had originally intended to construct a new secret realm but thought better of it—Wolong Ridge's realm had only just opened. The world needed time to digest it.

Nothing should be rushed.

He, too, needed time to rest.

Thus, he exhaled gently, left the platform, and closed his eyes for slumber. As his strength increased, a peaceful night's sleep might one day become a luxury.

Yet he had barely shut his eyes when they fluttered open again. In the darkness, Lu Fan sighed.

Outside Beiluo City

The wheels of a carriage rolled slowly. Hooves shattered the night's silence.

On the city wall, Lu Changkong frowned deeply. Behind him, Luo Yue's gaze was grave.

"My lord, shall we open the gate?"

"The Mo Patriarch has come in person to Beiluo City—surely with ill intent. I believe the gate must remain closed."

But Lu Changkong remained silent, then sighed.

"Tonight shall not be peaceful. Open the gates—the Mo Clan is not the only visitor."

Luo Yue was stunned. "Not just the Mo Clan?"

Lu Changkong stood tall upon the walls. "Fan's plan to draw the mantis and catch the cicada has finally drawn the Mo Clan's attention."

"The Mo Clan's disciples are assassins and wanderers, and they're allied with the Machinists and the Yin-Yang Sect. If they strike in secret, we may be unprepared. Send Luo Cheng with a thousand men to guard Lu Manor. Protect Fan. Let them into the city, place them under our watchful eyes, and we shall rest easier."

"Yes, my lord." Luo Yue inhaled sharply, then turned and departed.

Luo Cheng received his orders and led a thousand troops to escort—