Chapter 82: Chapter 82
The young man was none other than Wang Xuanyang, son of the Zhendong General!
And the white-robed middle-aged man seated in the great armchair was the patriarch of the Changyun Wang family — Wang Zhidao, whose cultivation had reached Transforming Strength.
After hearing Wang Xuanyang’s report, Wang Zhidao slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was still as a deep pool, utterly without ripple.
He didn’t rush to answer. Instead, he asked a question that seemed entirely unrelated.
“Xuanyang… have you ever resented your father for leaving you here in Changyun County to waste away?”
Wang Xuanyang’s expression stiffened. Then he lowered his head slightly.
“I would not dare… It is only that my standing is humble. I cannot compare with my two elder brothers. To have been allowed to cultivate in peace this long is more than I dared hope for.”
The Zhendong General, Wang Zhifan, had three sons.
The eldest, Wang Xuanliang, was the legitimate firstborn. He had joined the military campaigns early and now held real power as the commanding officer of the Longxiang Army’s Soaring Sky Battalion — a man of rank and authority.
The third son, Wang Xuanmin, was prodigiously gifted. He had been accepted as a true-transmission disciple at Qingyuan Sword Tower in the prefectural city, his future blindingly bright.
Only the seventh son, Wang Xuanyang — a concubine’s son, barely past the age of capping — had been packed off to the Wang clan’s ancestral seat with nothing more than a letter.
Unable to draw on the Zhendong General’s household for resources or connections, Wang Xuanyang saw himself as a discarded pawn through and through.
“Heh…”
Sensing the bitterness in the young man, Wang Zhidao pointed at him from across the room and sighed.
“You don’t understand your father’s painstaking intentions. Well, never mind…”
Wang Zhidao shook his head, withdrew his hand, and his tone turned distant and ethereal.
“Xuanyang, let me ask you — you train your martial arts and study the classics every day. Do you know what the legendary ‘Blessed Lands’ truly are?”
“Naturally.”
Wang Xuanyang had grown up in the prefectural city. His knowledge was broader than most. He set aside his emotions and answered squarely.
“The ancient texts state: ‘Grotto-heavens and Blessed Lands are linked to the Great Void, each one a legacy realm carved from nothing by True Sovereigns of the primordial age through heaven-spanning arts.'”
“Within such realms, fortunes are beyond counting and treasures thick as grass. But every time one emerges and opens, the convergence of heaven and earth’s destiny inevitably gives rise to a being who embodies that will — a Child of Destiny!”
At those three words, a trace of reverence entered Wang Xuanyang’s eyes.
“According to the ancient texts, a Child of Destiny is favored by the heavens above. He is untouched by karmic debt, beyond the reach of divination. His fortune, talent, and luck are all without equal in the world. If he does not die young, he is certain to become a figure whose name shakes an entire region and shapes the course of the realm.”
Here Wang Xuanyang paused, a note of longing creeping into his voice.
“Legend has it that a Child of Destiny’s deep well of fortune extends beyond himself. His retainers, his followers — anyone who comes in contact with his destiny, even if they merely cross his path once or exchange a single word — even the most ordinary commoner may rise to the clouds and live to a hundred…”
His voice dropped lower.
“And for martial artists, the benefits of following a Child of Destiny are even more staggering.”
“My father… once befriended a Child of Destiny. He accompanied him into the Nanxiang Blessed Land, and it was there he gained the fortune to break through to Astral Strength — earning the fearsome reputation of the Zhendong General.”
“Correct.”
Wang Zhidao nodded slowly, his gaze deep and unreadable as it rested on Wang Xuanyang. Then he dropped his bombshell.
“What if I told you… that somewhere near the borders of Changyun and Changshui counties, there lies a Blessed Land that has not yet fully revealed itself?”
“…What?!”
The words struck Wang Xuanyang like a bolt of lightning.
His eyes flew wide. He stared at Wang Zhidao in disbelief, his very breath suspended.
Meeting that stunned gaze, Wang Zhidao rose from his chair at an unhurried pace.
He strolled to the dwarf pine and picked up a pair of shears, trimming dead branches.
“That Blessed Land… first showed faint signs of its existence twenty years ago.”
“At the time, no one had any idea that such a backwater could harbor a Blessed Land. Still less did anyone know it had quietly given rise to a Child of Destiny.”
The shears paused. Wang Zhidao gazed down at the neatly trimmed pine and spoke mildly.
“Back then, only one person stumbled upon him by pure chance.”
Wang Xuanyang’s breathing quickened sharply.
“Who?!”
“The Bai clan’s Old Ancestor — Bai Qingcang!”
Wang Zhidao let out a cold laugh.
“Twenty years ago, the Bai family was still a minor house. Bai Qingcang had only just taken the patriarch’s chair, and his cultivation was barely at the threshold of Hidden Strength.”
“One day, he happened to visit Yunshui Lake and stumbled upon that Child of Destiny.”
“The man had been cultivating in seclusion at the lake’s center. Seeing Bai Qingcang blunder in, he said they were fated to meet, and gifted him a cultivation method and a treasure fish…”
“The treasure fish… was it the Azure Dragon Carp?!”
A flash of insight struck Wang Xuanyang and the words burst out.
“The street rumors say Bai Qingcang once caught a third-tier Azure Dragon Carp in Yunshui Lake. Later, he spent a fortune to engage Master Alchemist Mei Shuangning of Biwu Sect in Guangwu Commandery to refine a Dragon Creek Qi-Refining Pill, using the carp as the primary ingredient.”
“After swallowing that pill, Bai Qingcang broke through to Transforming Strength in one leap!”
Wang Zhidao listened, then twisted his lips into a derisive arc.
“As you said yourself — those are rumors.”
Wang Xuanyang blinked. “You mean…”
Wang Zhidao set down the shears, brushed a few stray pine needles from his cuff, and spoke in a voice edged with frost.
“In his early years, Bai Qingcang trained alongside a water bandit named Duan Wei in the Southern Sea’s Wrathwater Gang. They even apprenticed under the same master — martial brothers of many years!”
“At that time, Bai Qingcang came from nothing. He had little knowledge and no inkling of what a ‘Child of Destiny’ even was.”
“After receiving the fortune the man had gifted him, not only did he feel no gratitude — his mind was clouded by greed. He convinced himself the Child of Destiny was hiding even greater treasures.”
“So he secretly sent word to Duan Wei, and roped in his sworn blood-brother — the previous patriarch of the Luo clan, Luo Ao.”
“Not content with that, he hired over a dozen Manifest and Hidden Strength fighters from Changyun, Changshui, and even Nanxiang Commandery. They cast an inescapable net, vowing to surround and kill the Child of Destiny on the open waters of Yunshui Lake.”
Wang Zhidao paused here, a cold sneer crossing his lips — as though mocking their hubris.
“But what did that pack of mortals know? A Child of Destiny is shielded by heaven. Destiny itself clings to him.”
“Without a master of the divine-power level deploying a Destiny Divine Power to obscure heaven’s secrets, a mere rabble of fighters who dares try to kill a Child of Destiny will inevitably suffer the backlash of destiny itself!”
“What’s more, though that Child of Destiny had been cultivating for less than three months, his realm had already soared from that of a common man to Late-stage Hidden Strength!”
“And he carried a full arsenal of techniques, stance arts, secret methods, and priceless treasures…”
“Just him. One man. One sword.”
“He faced nineteen fighters alone — and left their heads rolling, severed limbs carpeting the water. The heart of Yunshui Lake was stained red across a vast stretch.”
“The ambush party was slaughtered nearly to the last. Only Bai Qingcang and Duan Wei managed to escape, both critically wounded…”
Wang Xuanyang’s lips had gone dry. His voice shook.
“And… the Child of Destiny?”
“He died.”
Wang Zhidao gave the ending without hesitation.
“After cutting down over a dozen experts, his qi-blood was finally spent. He collapsed, grievously wounded.”
“The survivors — Bai Qingcang, Duan Wei, Luo Ao, and four or five others — feared his power too much to close in. They attacked from a distance with every poisoned hidden weapon and underhanded trick they had…”
“Yet even with his limbs hacked off, even with half his face a ruin of blood and flesh, in his dying counterattack, Luo Ao still lost his head to a single sword stroke. Duan Wei had half his body shredded by sword qi…”
Wang Zhidao exhaled a turbid breath and gazed out the window at the darkening sky.
“In the end, as the last of his life faded, the Child of Destiny — man and sword together — plunged into the lake.”
“But strangely, when Bai Qingcang later dredged the bottom for three days and three nights, he never found the body.”
“By then, Duan Wei was at the end of his rope. To guard the secret — and to continue searching the lakebed for the corpse that might still hold a great fortune — Duan Wei, with his dying breath, ordered his eldest son to seize Dongyi Island…”
Wang Zhidao turned. His gaze burned into Wang Xuanyang like a torch.
“From that day forward, Yunshui Lake gained a new power: Chenjian Wu. And its Great Chief, Duan Xiao, is none other than Duan Wei’s son!”