I Have Outguessed Your Outguessing of My Outguessing
At the northernmost tip of Wuzhou Continent, in a remote, harsh, and sparsely populated frozen land lies the so-called "Demon Domain".
Three thousand years ago, the Heavenly Demon fell in battle, and the demonic cultivators retreated steadily all the way to this rugged, unforgiving land that was easy to defend and hard to attack. Leveraging the terrain and the dense, heavy aura of turbidity and malevolence that saturated the place, they finally caught a much-needed break and gained a firm foothold under the pursuit of the righteous path cultivators.
From then on, this place became the base camp where demonic cultivators multiplied and thrived, known to outsiders as the "Demon Domain"—a name spoken with a mix of disgust and fear.
If this were a wuxia world, it would be the legendary "Valley of the Wicked".
Of course, not the kind of "wicked people" with hidden hardships and tragic backstories that draw hordes of adoring fans.
Nine out of ten demonic cultivators rooted in the Demon Domain are utterly unrepentant villains with mountains of blood on their hands. Killing them once would be far too lenient a sentence, and killing them ten times would barely even feel like justice served.
The seven great Demon Lords in particular are so infamous that their names can stop a fussy child from crying in the middle of the night.
And one of them happens to be a hopelessly romantic, overbearing tyrant—we'll set that little detail aside for now.
Right at the very moment Shu Fu was having her fierce (read: brutal) battle (beating) with Ling Fengqing—
In a remote corner of the Demon Domain's rolling mountain ranges, within a steep, jagged valley with precipitous peaks that jutted toward the sky, two figures stood facing each other on two hilltops separated by a stretch of empty space. Their robes fluttered in the wind, their postures so graceful and ethereal they looked like immortals who had descended to the mortal realm.
One of them had jet-black hair and wore a black robe, his features sharp and refined, the hem of his garment embroidered with the pattern of pure white night-blooming cereus. This was none other than Jiang Xuesheng.
The other was also clad in a long black robe as dark as the midnight sky, a black iron mask covering the upper half of his face. His clothing was plain and unadorned, with not a single pattern or ornament to be seen—so uniformly dark and lifeless that no sliver of light could seem to penetrate it.
If anyone had ever seen him in this exact outfit, they would know at once—this man in black was the foremost of the Seven Great Demon Lords, the Black Demon King among the Four Great Demon Kings, whose name was Zhao Jiuge.
The two of them had been locked in this standoff for several days now.
What lay between them was not just the lush, deep green valley far below, but also a massive go board.
Calling it a "go board" is a bit of a stretch, actually—there was no physical board at all. The nineteen intersecting horizontal and vertical lines of the board were made of golden threads woven out of condensed spiritual energy, glowing and shimmering brightly as they hung suspended in midair.
And the "go stones" they were using were likewise clumps of solidified spiritual energy, shaped into glowing orbs that floated above the board.
Zhao Jiuge held the black stones, and Jiang Xuesheng held the white ones.
To some onlookers, this scene might have carried the grand, sweeping vibe of "the whole world as a go board, and all living beings as the stones"; but to others, it might just look like a simple clash of glowing light balls.
Jiang Xuesheng held a white orb in his palm that looked rather like a Kamehameha energy blast, twisting it around playfully as he pondered for a long moment. Then he suddenly broke into a smile and spoke in a relaxed, unhurried tone.
"The outcome is already decided. Fu'er has won."
His divine sense was stretched all the way to Wei City, and it shared every bit of information with his physical body in real time. The sight of Ling Fengqing being cut to pieces by Shu Fu's jade flute crossed thousands of miles of distance, clear and vivid as if it was unfolding right before his eyes.
"..."
Zhao Jiuge's expression was unreadable. He lifted his gaze and shot a dark, heavy glance at Jiang Xuesheng. "Master Tanhua, you don't actually think things are that simple, do you?"
A few days prior, Jiang Xuesheng had suddenly ventured deep into the Demon Domain all by himself, heading straight for its very heart, and proposed a game of go against the Demon Lord Zhao Jiuge.
Zhao Jiuge had not believed a single word of it. In fact, he had very nearly spat right in his face.
These past few days, a string of riots has broken out one after another across his territory, every last one of them showing clear signs of deliberate incitement. More likely than not, Jiang Xuesheng was the mastermind behind all of it.
We're all seasoned old foxes who've lived for a thousand years, what's the point of putting on a silly "Liaozhai" ghost story act for me?
Jiang Xuesheng's purpose for coming, he could guess without anyone spelling it out.
Ling Fengqing had long been greedy for the Central Province, and he would most likely pick the Flower Festival as his window to march his troops into Wei City, forcing Wei Tianjiao to yield. Both the fiend lords Ning Lu and He Xiuwen were in on this scheme too.
Zhao Jiuge knew full well that Jiang Xuesheng had gone out of his way to come here in person, clearly to tie him down, the leader of all fiends, so that he would not step in halfway through the Wei City battle to reap all the benefits for himself.
"Ling Fengqing has suffered such a severe injury that he is either dead or crippled, and his entire plan will crumble along with him. With no one at the helm of Spirit Castle, and Ning Lu badly wounded, that trivial He Xiuwen cannot stir up even three feet of waves in Wei City," Jiang Xuesheng said with an easy, relaxed demeanor, explaining things slowly and clearly as if he were lecturing a primary school student. "Or do you, Fiend Lord, have some other brilliant idea in mind?"
Zhao Jiuge let out a cold snort. "You've vastly underestimated Ling Fengqing. He's been plotting this for ages, first colluding with the Demon Realm, then using vengeful spirits to throw Wei City into chaos, laying out schemes one after another. A deep, insidious man like him would never stake his own life on a single duel out of a moment of impulse. It's truly a sight to behold — the renowned Master Tanhua has actually fallen for a sound-east-strike-west trick from a younger generation."
"And that's not all."
Zhao Jiuge's sleeves billowed out like a vulture spreading its wings, and a pitch-black, ominous orb of demonic energy flew out from within, landing on the game board to make an extremely cunning, vicious move.
"Jiang Tan, you're still a step too late. You thought you could keep me trapped here in the Demon Realm, but little did you know, I've been the one stalling you this entire time, so you cannot rush to Wei City's aid."
"My cooperation with Spirit Castle was finalized long ago."
"While all of you were fixated on the arena, and your apprentice was throwing his weight around like a reckless fool... Wei City will fall, today."
...
Back in Wei City, at that very moment.
"Ugh... aah... AAAAAAAAH!!!"
Ling Fengqing was thrashing and rolling on the arena stage, barely a patch of unharmed skin left on his body. He clamped his hands over his face, and nonstop streams of blood gushed out between his fingers.
That previous shower of shattered jade that had washed over his entire body was so sharp it cut straight to the bone — it had sliced his throat, leaving him unable to speak, and a shard of it had pierced through his eyelid to embed itself deep inside his bloodshot eye.
It was true that Ling Fengqing never staked his life on this arena duel — if anything, the exact opposite was the case.
Yesterday, he had openly provoked Shu Fu before starting a brawl right there on the main street. Part of that was just his natural temper, but it was also a deliberate move to lull the Yaoguang Peak sect into complacency, making them think he was short-tempered, shallow, and completely fixated on nothing but his duel with Shu Fu, with no spare attention to spare for anything else.
(Come to think of it, if he had known earlier that he would end up getting his hair shaved off, his clothes torn to rags, and sent flying thirty meters with a single swat from Jiang Xuesheng, he never would have gone with this plan in the first place.)
At any rate, in Ling Fengqing's real scheme, the arena duel was nothing more than a distraction. The fatal, deadly blow had long been laid out somewhere else entirely.
The time he planned to ignite the full-scale war was not the third day — it was today, right now.
The second the entire city's attention was drawn to the arena, all the hidden agents he had planted in advance would strike, and seize the chance to breach Wei City in one fell swoop.
In other words, from the very start, Ling Fengqing had intended to use himself as bait, to give the demonic cultivators the perfect opening to capture Wei City.
Of course, he had originally thought he could take Shu Fu down with a single flick of his wrist. Even in the worst-case scenario, he had assumed he could still give her a good, thorough beating to remember.
He had never expected this at all —
"Fishing carries a karmic burden, Young Master Ling. You thought you were the one fishing, that I had taken the bait, but you're the one who's done for."
"Tell me, was all of this even worth it?"
Shu Fu stepped forward slowly, holding the restored jade flute in her hand the way one would grip a sword. She lifted one foot and kicked him, rolling him over, then looked down at him with a half-smirk playing across her face.
"Wh…at…"
Ling Fengqing's face was as pale as ash. He struggled to pry open his one remaining functional eye, his throat trembling faintly as he forced a wisp of sound out of his lungs, which were now riddled with wounds.
What did her words… mean?
Fishing? Bait taken? I'm done for?
What on earth is she talking about??
"Young Master!!!"
Elder Shengyang watched Ling Fengqing get grievously injured and was beside himself with grief. He finally shook off Liu Ruyi's entanglement, then flung himself over like a tumbling roasted sweet potato.
He held Ling Fengqing in his arms, wracked with sorrow. His two tufts of eyebrows drooped heavily, and his gaunt old face crumpled into a wrinkled mess. Judging solely by his expression, one would have thought he was holding the love of his life, the one he had sworn to share three lifetimes with.
It was almost that, in fact — after all, he was still counting on Ling Fengqing to scout out handsome young men for him.
"Young Master, hold on! Young Master, you mustn't leave me! If anything happens to you, and that second brother of yours gains power, how on earth will I survive back in Lingxiao City…"
Seeing Ling Fengqing breathing out far more than he was breathing in, Elder Shengyang beat his chest and stamped his feet, wailing nonstop.
This scene should have been deeply moving, but with one party a shriveled, charred sweet potato, and the other a blood-soaked piece of hazardous waste, not to mention the blatant power-grabbing undertones in the sweet potato's wails, the whole thing could only be described as an eyesore.jpg.
Ling Fengqing's eyes bulged out of his head: "Sheng…yang…!!"
Stop howling!
If you keep that up, I really will kick the bucket!
For heaven's sake, heal me already!!!
Ling Fengqing was seething with rage and exasperation. Every inch of his body ached, and when he spotted Shu Fu a short distance away, looking perfectly composed as she toyed with the jade flute, a surge of foul rage clogged his chest. A jet of blood shot high out of his nose and mouth like a tiny fountain, landing squarely all over Elder Shengyang's head and face.
But that was fine…
Through his hazy consciousness, Ling Fengqing endured the stabbing pain that wracked every meridian in his body, and pulled off a vicious, sneering grin.
He was badly injured, yes — but as long as the demonic cultivators took Wei City, and Lingxiao City seized the chance to claim Central Province, there would be all the rare heavenly materials and precious treasures he could ever want. He could go home, rest and recuperate for a few dozen or hundred years, and he'd be back to his old self again…
"…What's that sound?"
"I heard it too! Strange, where is that coming from…"
"Demonic qi! It's demonic qi! Everyone, be on your guard!!"
As if responding to Ling Fengqing's wild fantasy, a low rumble suddenly echoed from beneath the ground, catching everyone completely off guard. Strands of thick demonic qi seeped out through cracks in the rock, from under the shadows of trees, and even off the bodies of passersby standing nearby, sweeping over the entire assembly in an instant.
Dark clouds pressed down like a suffocating shroud, the air thick with the promise of an impending storm.
In a dark corner that no one was paying any mind to, a wavering shadow gradually solidified into human form.
White bones that had lain dormant underground for years were roused by the demonic qi, climbing out of their coffins one after another, bursting up through the soil and surging toward the living, drawn by the warmth of their yang energy.
The young girl with a flower tucked in her hair, the vendor weaving through the crowd selling peanuts and sunflower seeds, the old man fanning himself in the shade to beat the heat… all of them seemed to get a signal at the exact same time, dropping their disguises to reveal the ferocious true forms of demonic cultivators.
Every single one of them had a cultivation base at the Golden Core stage or higher.
Long before the Flower Festival, they had already colluded with Ling Fengqing, split their forces into smaller, discrete units, and hidden themselves quietly in every corner of Wei City.
Among these operatives were not just the irregular troops under He Xiuwen's command, but also a select elite team handpicked by Zhao Jiuge, who were perfectly capable of concealing their demonic auras.
All that was needed was a single order from their true master, the Demon Lord, and these demonic cultivators would surge forth like boiling swamps to swallow the entirety of Wei City.
At the very same moment, deafening rumbles echoed from outside the city.
The enemy's forces were massive. From where they stood, huge dark shadows that looked like small hills could be seen in the distance.
Someone suddenly shouted at the top of their lungs, "They're war beasts! The war beasts are attacking the city!"
Central Province was a coveted, fatty piece of land that many a party was eager to carve a share out of. Not only had the black market ringleader He Xiuwen dispatched all his forces to grab a piece of the action, even Zhao Jiuge had poured in considerable resources, sending out the specially bred war beasts he had raised with great care—creatures with lion heads, horse bodies, and leopard tails, which bore a passing resemblance to the Western mythological chimera.
Yet even so.
Despite deploying such enormous combat power, the one-sided battle that Ling Fengqing and the demonic cultivators had anticipated never came to pass.
The cultivators of Wei City were well-trained and fierce in battle, and the local folk were known for their tough, unyielding character. Even the ordinary mortal civilians were all well-versed in martial arts, and they did not fear the sudden assault of the demonic cultivators in the slightest, showing every sign of fighting to the death.
As for the other cultivators who had come to attend the Flower Festival, after the initial shock and chaos, they quickly pulled themselves together and joined the fray against the demonic cultivators that charged at them like ravenous tigers and wolves.
—If things had only gone this far, Wei City might not have fallen, but it would have paid a terrible, bloody price.
But the beauty of this carefully laid game was that "things did not stop there".
...
"Jiang Tan, what other tricks do you have up your sleeve?"
High atop a thousand-zhang tall peak in the Demon Realm, Zhao Jiuge's face was dark with malice, his tone sharp with mockery. "The disciples of the Yaoguang Peak are ferocious fighters, but they are far too few in number. Even the strongest pair of fists cannot fend off a swarm of hands, and they cannot hold out against our endless, unceasing assaults. Even if you send a plea for aid to the Jiuhua Sect now, it will already be far too late, won't it?"
"That is true," Jiang Xuesheng said with a soft, knowing laugh. "Help would not arrive in time *right now*."
"You are not like Ling Fengqing—you are a clever beast. To make sure you did not catch wind of our plan ahead of time, and that all of you would walk straight into the trap... I imagine she will arrive just about now."
Zhao Jiuge narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't you find it strange that my disciple Zhao Yun showed up so late for this event?" Jiang Xuesheng said, unusually patient, a faint smile never leaving his face as he laid out the clues step by step. "With her love of all lively, fun events, she would never have missed a single day of the Flower Festival under normal circumstances."
"Go on, guess, Demon Lord. All those days when Zhao Yun's whereabouts were a complete mystery... where exactly do you think she has been all this time?"
His black robes billowing around him, Jiang Xuesheng placed his very last white chess piece on the board. The final, decisive move.
The outcome was settled.
...
The second the demonic cultivators launched their surprise attack, Shu Fu was the first to leap down from the high platform, charging straight into the enemy vanguard ahead of everyone else.
Her cultivation level might not have outmatched the opponents she faced, but with Si Fei and Zhao Yun fighting right by her side—one who could condense water vapor out of thin air, the other who could turn exhaled breath into ice—they instantly created the perfect environment for Shu Fu to display her full strength, making her as powerful as a tiger given wings.
She weaved through the ranks of the demonic cultivators, her sword flashing like a streak of light. Before long, heads began to roll across the ground, thick, reeking blood splattering everywhere and blooming across the stone in great, inky-black dark red blossoms.
The moment Jiang Xuesheng made his move a thousand li away, Shu Fu seemed to feel a strange premonition. She abruptly paused her work of chopping through enemies as easily as slicing melons and vegetables, wiped the splattered blood off her face casually, and lifted her head to gaze up at the sky.
"That is... swords?"
They were indeed swords.
Countless swords, countless streaks of sword light, streaked across the sky like tens of thousands of meteors, converging above the city of Wei from all directions.
Perched on every sword stood a cultivator, head held high and brimming with vibrant spirit. Their figures were as straight as tall pines, elegant and poised, bright and radiant like celestial beings.
At the lead was a strikingly beautiful young female cultivator, clad in a cyan robe with wide flowing sleeves, her black hair coiled up like piled clouds, looking exactly like the Chang'e of the Moon Palace.
She wore no battle attire, nor did she deliberately put on the cold, tough air of an aloof, unapproachable blossom. Every movement and gesture of hers was graceful, and there was even a hint of tender affection between her brows, like the spring breeze that turns all of southern China green.
Yet from her body radiated a wintry, piercing sword intent, burning bright and dazzling, so imposing that no one dared to meet her gaze directly.
Shu Fu recognized that sword intent.
Back when she first arrived and stepped into the cultivation world for the very first time, she had heard that name in the legends of the cultivation realm.
the world's foremost sword cultivator.
Her sword qi stretches across thirty thousand miles, a single sword's glow casts a chill over fourteen provinces.
From that moment on, that figure had become the goal she yearned for and strived toward.
The woman stood against the wind, and chanted in a slow, clear voice. Her high, crisp tone rang across the entire battlefield, stirring the hearts and souls of everyone present, and making all the cowardly and vile foes tremble in utter terror.
"Entrusted by my old friend — I am Ming Xiao, Master of Tianxuan Peak of the Jiuhua Sect, and I have come to seek a duel."
