Cai Zhao was pulled along by Chang Ning as they dashed straight toward the cliffside.
She couldn't help but ask, "Why are we going there?" If there was an enemy attack, they should either head where the crowd gathered to prevent slaughter or rush to critical areas to stop sabotage. She couldn't understand why they were heading to the Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff.
Chang Ning strode forward with long steps, his sleeves fluttering in the wind. "As you said yourself, the Azure Tower Sect is impregnable. For two hundred years, no one has ever breached the Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff—so how did these outsiders get in?"
Cai Zhao sighed, "I wanted to go help people."
Chang Ning's expression remained indifferent. "Some deaths are inevitable. The sooner we figure out the reason, the better. Otherwise, the consequences will be endless."
Hearing him casually say 'some deaths are inevitable,' Cai Zhao felt a chill in her heart and couldn't help muttering, "Can't we investigate afterward?"
Chang Ning suddenly stopped and glared at her. "I suppose the Dusk Micro Palace is more important—even though Sect Leader Qi and a group of experts are there, and Song's third son is leading disciples to reinforce them. But to prevent my dear Zhao Zhao's sweetheart from getting scratched, catching a cold from the mountain breeze, or suffering any harm, I should accompany Zhao Zhao there immediately. A beauty rescuing a hero would make for a fine tale. After all, the Big Dipper Six Sects are like one family—marrying a Zhou or a Song makes little difference. Later, you can just switch fiancés, and Zhao Zhao will get her wish fulfilled..."
"Elder Brother Chang is absolutely right. Master's martial arts are formidable, and all the senior uncles have their own skills. Besides, Third Senior Brother's arrangements earlier were quite thorough, so there shouldn't be any major issues. If we don’t uncover the reason for the enemy's invasion, the consequences will indeed be endless." Cai Zhao smoothly deflected.
Chang Ning snorted coldly.
The two had just rushed away from the training grounds when, upon reaching the central gate, a thick scent of blood assaulted them.
Over a dozen corpses lay scattered haphazardly on the ground, three or four of which clearly didn’t belong to the sect. They wore gray tight-fitting outfits, their heads wrapped in long scarves, and their faces covered with grotesque, eerie painted masks.
Before Cai Zhao could voice her confusion, Chang Ning immediately said, "They’re from the Demonic Cult, no doubt. Judging by their attire, they’re from the Heavenly Fiend Battalion—though I’m not sure which group. Hmph, Nie Zhe has been harboring filth all these years. Who knows what kind of trash has climbed up here now."
Not daring to linger, they pressed onward. Along the way, they encountered several groups of sect disciples fighting the gray-clad intruders. Chang Ning stepped forward, striking down one enemy after another with his sword—his movements swift, ruthless, and precise. At one point, three gray-clad men lunged at him simultaneously, yet he swept his sword horizontally, slitting all three throats in an instant.
Cai Zhao raised her sword but had to lower it again, finding no chance to strike.
One of the gray-clad leaders, seeing Chang Ning’s face covered in festering sores—making him unrecognizable—yet witnessing his profound internal energy and lethal techniques, demanded, "Your moves don’t belong to the Big Dipper Six Sects! Who are you?!"
"What kind of trash dares to ask for my name?!"
Chang Ning burst into laughter. Casually picking up a broken blade, he wielded his sword in his left hand while tossing the blade upward with his right. As it fell, he flicked a finger against its surface, causing the ghost-headed blade to shatter instantly. With a sweep of his sleeve, dozens of razor-sharp fragments shot toward the gray-clad man!
The man swung his thunder-blocking staff in a desperate attempt to defend himself, creating an impenetrable barrier. Yet, he couldn’t stop the onslaught—the shards pierced him like a sieve, and he collapsed, bleeding profusely until death.
This series of actions was executed with such fluidity, power, and seasoned precision that the surrounding disciples erupted in cheers.
Continuing forward, they passed a pavilion where corpses lay strewn inside and out—all seemingly killed without warning. A blood-soaked sect disciple lay slumped over a stone bench, emitting hoarse, guttural cries for help.
The sound was peculiar, as if it emerged directly from his throat.Cai Zhao didn't have time to think. She leaped into the pavilion to find the entire surface seemingly soaked in blood, the pool long congealed. When she pulled the sect disciple up for a look, she nearly screamed in fright!
The disciple appeared only seventeen or eighteen years old, yet from the lower lip downward, his entire chin had been cleanly sliced off. The lower half of his face below the upper lip was gone, leaving a crescent-shaped wound. However, his throat and neck remained intact—hence the hoarse cries.
Cai Zhao's gaze traveled downward, forcing herself to suppress her trembling—this disciple's arms and legs had been severed, no wonder he couldn't crawl.
Never had Cai Zhao witnessed such a horrifying scene up close. Staggering back two steps, her heel bumped against something. Turning her head, she saw the grotesquely mutilated corpse of a young maidservant in pink, her delicate lower face completely shaved off with the same crescent-shaped wound.
She gasped, "Isn't this Senior Sister Lingbo's..." This was indeed the maidservant who had spread rumors for Qi Lingbo. She must have been killed while chasing after Qi Lingbo, unable to escape upon hearing the warning horn.
Chang Ning also saw the corpses, yet he remained motionless outside the pavilion, secretly gripping broken blade fragments in his hand.
Besides the young disciple and the pink-clad maidservant, Cai Zhao discovered two more bodies with similarly missing jaws. A cold wind blew past, making her hair stand on end.
Before she could turn to call Chang Ning, four gray-clad figures with painted masks suddenly emerged from behind the rockery beside the pavilion.
These four were clearly more skilled than the previous groups of gray-clad attackers—not only were their movements swift, but their experience showed. Seeing only a young girl in the pavilion, one charged toward it while the other three lunged at Chang Ning.
Though the three attacked fiercely, Chang Ning showed no fear. Wielding his sword in his left hand and striking swiftly with his right palm, he countered each move in moments.
The man charging toward the pavilion was burly, his eyes visible beneath the mask gleaming with cruel excitement. He held sun-and-moon wheels, their edges still dripping with blood. "What a pretty little flower you are. This one's no use anymore—let me fix your face for you, heh heh heh..."
Seeing this, Chang Ning started in alarm, wanting to rush to the pavilion to help, but the three assailants kept him entangled.
Cai Zhao stared at the bits of flesh and bone clinging to the wheel blades and finally understood what weapon had mutilated the young disciple and the maidservant.
At the same time, she realized these four were specifically stationed here to ambush sect disciples—leaving one alive to maim beyond speech, luring sect experts to their rescue.
The gray-clad brute cackled grotesquely as he pounced.
Cai Zhao raised her sword to meet him. With a grating clang of weapons colliding—the gray-clad man's left hand erupted in pain as his moon wheel flew from his grasp. Staggering back several steps, he clutched his right arm as blood gushed between his fingers.
The gray-clad man paled. "You—who are you?!"
Cai Zhao's sword moved lightning-fast. In an instant, her blade angled upward, piercing through the sun wheel's grip before arcing down in a slash.
The gray-clad man felt excruciating pain—his right arm severed cleanly by the sword, blood spraying wildly from the wound.
"Fallen Blossom Valley, Cai Zhao," the girl said, her face like still water.
The gray-clad man's voice trembled. "What relation are you to Cai Pingshu?!"
"Vile scum like you aren't worthy to speak her name." Cai Zhao advanced, her sword flickering like butterfly wings—four rapid alternating strikes to knock aside the sun wheel before a final horizontal slash sent the gray-clad man's head flying clean off.
The headless corpse twitched several times on the ground before lying still.
As a child, Cai Zhao once asked her aunt whether she'd been afraid the first time she killed someone.
As usual, Cai Pingshu answered with a story from the past.The first person she ever killed was an obscure bandit. In terms of skill, that man wasn’t even fit to carry the shoes of the Demonic Cult, yet his cruelty surpassed even theirs.
That year, Cai Pingshu was not yet fourteen, traveling with disciples of the Zhou family to attend the Six Sects’ Young Talent Tournament hosted by Yin Dai. Along the way, they passed a farmhouse in the mountains where an elderly couple wept over the corpse of their young granddaughter.
Upon inquiry, they learned that the previous night, a bandit had grown hungry on his way back to his hideout and barged into the farmhouse demanding food and drink. The area was already riddled with bandit dens, so the elderly couple dared not refuse, exhausting their meager resources to serve him.
Yet after eating and drinking his fill, the bandit took a liking to their thirteen-year-old granddaughter. When the girl scratched his flesh in her agony, he raped her and then stabbed her to death.
Cai Pingshu was furious. Her fellow disciples urged her to simply leave some silver for the elderly couple—after all, the mountains were dense with bandit hideouts, and finding the culprit would be like fishing for a needle in the ocean. They insisted that answering Old Sect Leader Yin’s call to unite against the Demonic Cult was more pressing.
Cai Pingshu couldn’t understand—was it only evil when the Demonic Cult killed? Did ordinary bandits slaughtering the innocent not count? So, days later, she left a letter and slipped away from the group, returning alone.
Back then, she was still young and a bit directionally challenged. She wandered countless wrong paths, endured untold hardships, and nearly flattened half the mountain, turning the ten bandit dens in the area upside down until they wailed in despair. Finally, she found the culprit.
The terrified chief of the den hastily pushed the troublemaker forward. Without hesitation, Cai Pingshu ended the bandit’s wretched life and then toppled the entire den—why wait until now to hand him over?
Of course, she also missed that year’s North Star Young Talent Tournament.
Cai Pingshu had thought she might feel fear the first time she killed someone. Yet when she sliced the rapist murderer in half at the waist, she felt not a shred of terror—only immense satisfaction.
Chang Ning finished off the remaining three and quickly reached the pavilion.
Seeing Cai Zhao lost in thought, he assumed she was frightened after her first kill and hurriedly said, “Scared? The outer sect’s kitchen isn’t far. How about I take you for a bowl of calming soup?”
Cai Zhao stared at the gray-clad corpse, blood still gushing from its severed neck.
She shook her head. “I’m not scared.”
—“Auntie, the man who sought refuge with Father is dead. His clothes are torn, blood everywhere. Mother couldn’t save him. I’m scared. Auntie, were you really not afraid the first time you killed someone?”
“No,” Cai Pingshu had said, patting the little girl’s head. “Uprooting the strong to aid the weak, upholding justice—what is there to fear?”
Cai Zhao silently repeated those twelve words in her heart.
Now, she too understood the satisfaction of cutting down evil.
After three years, she finally realized her aunt had never truly left—she had passed her martial skills and courage on to her.
The young disciple who had cried for help earlier had succumbed to his severe injuries.
Chang Ning checked the pulses of the other corpses and shook his head.
Noticing Cai Zhao’s somber expression, he lightened the mood with a smile. “When you fought just now, I realized you weren’t using sword techniques but saber techniques. Heh, you hid it well.”
“Likewise,” Cai Zhao wiped her blade on the gray-clad corpse’s clothes. “I always thought Senior Brother Chang favored his left hand in battle. Only today did I realize you’re actually right-handed.”
Chang Ning’s expression remained unchanged, his smile gentler. “Zhao Zhao, what do you mean by that?”"Nothing much." Cai Zhao looked up with a smile. "We've only known each other for about ten days, so there are naturally many things we don't know about each other yet. It's not a matter of hiding anything."
Seeing her relaxed and casual expression, Chang Ning also smiled. "Zhao Zhao is right."
After this brief exchange, the two no longer delayed and continued forward.
The Azure Tower Sect occupied vast grounds with sparse population. With Dusk Micro Palace as the boundary, the training grounds lay at its northernmost edge while Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff was at its southernmost. Walking away from the palace buildings, the further they went the fewer people they encountered. Apart from scattered corpses along the way, even the gray-clad attackers were nowhere to be seen.
As they hurried along, kicking up fallen leaves and dust, Chang Ning noticed Cai Zhao had been smiling the whole time and couldn't help asking, "Why are you so happy?" Killing one villain shouldn't make someone this delighted.
Cai Zhao countered, "Do you know that over twenty years ago, Old Sect Leader Yin Dai once held a North Star Young Talent Tournament?"
This abrupt change of topic was so random that even Chang Ning, who prided himself on unconventional thinking, couldn't follow the girl's train of thought.
"In that tournament, Uncle Zhou and Wu Yuanying stood out, their skills nearly equal." Cai Zhao seemed particularly amused by some memory. "But Aunt Zhixian said Uncle Zhou should have won - he held back when fighting Wu Yuanying."
"Why?"
Her cheeks pink with mirth, Cai Zhao explained brightly, "Because he realized Old Sect Leader Yin wanted his beloved disciple and future son-in-law to shine before everyone. Uncle Zhou was such a gentleman, how could he steal someone's thunder? Pity Qiu Renjie lost too quickly - Uncle Zhou didn't even have time to consider how to concede before the match ended. So he only managed to subtly yield half a move against Wu Yuanying."
Chang Ning chuckled before asking, "What about your aunt then? Was her martial arts still undeveloped at that time?"
Cai Zhao: "She was delayed by other matters and didn't attend that one."
"This story makes you laugh like that?" Even sweeter than when she ate chicken wontons that evening.
The dimples in her cheeks deepened as she patiently explained, "It's not the story that makes me happy, but thinking of my aunt that does."
Chang Ning reluctantly accepted this explanation.
After a pause, Cai Zhao continued, "A year later when it was Chuguan's turn to host the North Star Young Talent Tournament, my aunt did attend."
Chang Ning nodded: "That's the one where your aunt broke their temple's treasure sword?"
"...Correct."
She'd only learned this from her mother ten days ago.
That year, sixteen-year-old Cai Pingshu arrived with Chang Haosheng fretting and worrying on her left, Ning Xiaofeng freshly coaxed back from Hanging Temple on her right, and a foolishly simple, introverted Qi Yunke in the middle.
Wanting to ease Chang Haosheng's worries, cheer up Ning Xiaofeng, and encourage Qi Yunke, she fought with full strength - not realizing that after over a year of wandering, her skills had far surpassed her peers from the six sects.
In the end, Chuguan's treasured sword broke, and grudges were born.
Ning Xiaofeng said Cai Pingshu later regretted it too. Wu Yuanying had been generous, heroic and upright - truly worth befriending. It was a shame things had turned so awkward for everyone.
...
They finally reached Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff.
Seven massive black chain boxes stood at the cliff's edge, each square on the outside but circular within, containing enormous chain wheel axles and powerful Mystic Iron mechanisms ready to retract or release the iron chains at any moment.At this moment, all seven chain boxes had shot out their iron chains, which were now unlocked and dangling into the abyss below the cliff. Scattered around the chain boxes were the corpses of the cliff-guarding disciples, along with some fallen gray-clad men and outer sect disciples who had died in combat.
Chang Ning's wide sleeves fluttered as he leaped to examine the corpses. He alternately inspected the bodies of the gray-clad men and crouched to check the wounds on the sect disciples' bodies, with Cai Zhao quietly following beside him.
After half a quarter-hour, he concluded: "There's a traitor among us."
"You spent all that time examining corpses just to figure that out? Even I knew that." Cai Zhao sighed. "The chains were deployed from the Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff, not shot over from Wind Cloud Peak on the opposite side. Naturally, the mischief was done by someone within the sect." Utterly obvious.
"Was it some outer sect disciple who was bribed? Or perhaps family members visiting their children on the cliff today were impersonated?" Her guesses were aimless—with at least two to three hundred people in the sect, including cooks, gardeners, maids, and servants, the pool of potential traitors was vast.
"Strange, truly strange." Chang Ning's expression grew increasingly grave instead.
Cai Zhao set aside her sarcasm: "What exactly is it?"
"Look." Chang Ning pointed to several sect disciples' corpses. "This one died from a Judge's Pen strike, this one from Parting Water Emei Piercers, and these three from Purple Gold Hammers—yet among the fallen Demonic Cult members here, none wielded these three weapons."
Cai Zhao scanned them: "That means those who used these three weapons left immediately after killing."
Chang Ning nodded, then indicated four or five gray-clad corpses: "Now look at these. Aside from one killed by a longsword, the other four all died from Great Compassion Hand and Vajra Finger techniques—yet none of the sect disciples here show any signs of having trained in Great Compassion Hand or Vajra Finger."
Both Great Compassion Hand and Vajra Finger were extremely fierce external martial arts. Those who practiced them would inevitably develop thick calluses on their palms and fingers.
Cai Zhao pondered: "It might be Uncle Chen and Uncle Ouyang. I heard they were both former Buddhist disciples who left the clergy and were recruited by Old Sect Leader Yin." According to Fan Xingjia, both men had deep-seated vendettas against the Demonic Cult. However, the strict rules of the Temple of Sangharama forbade its monks from initiating conflicts with the cult for personal vengeance, so these two had renounced their vows.
Chang Ning glanced at the girl: "One doesn't necessarily have to be a Buddhist to practice Great Compassion Hand or Vajra Finger."
He continued, "What I mean is, both sides didn't suffer mutual destruction—rather, members from both sides withdrew completely. They likely fought fiercely for a while, then the heretical villains fled first, with the sect disciples giving chase, leaving many corpses behind. But the odd thing is—"
"Just say it, stop dragging it out." Cai Zhao rubbed her aching head. "Fallen Blossom Valley has always been prosperous with favorable weather—I've never dealt with anything like this."
"Look at these corpses—their wounds are either on their backs or sides, and their swords are still sheathed. Clearly, they were ambushed before they could even draw their weapons." Chang Ning moved away from these six or seven corpses and walked a few steps left, pointing ahead. "Now look at these two. Though wounded from the front, their swords were only half-drawn, their elbows not even fully extended, and their dying expressions were utterly shocked—obviously because they saw 'one of their own' suddenly attack."
Cai Zhao agreed: "To kill eight cliff-guarding disciples in one go, there must be more than one traitor."Chang Ning nodded. "After swiftly killing the guards at the cliff, the traitor immediately opened the chain storage and activated the mechanism box to shoot the iron chains across to the opposite side—presumably Wind Cloud Peak was already under the enemy's control by then. However, once this Mystic Iron mechanism box is activated, it produces an earth-shaking roar, alerting the patrolling disciples nearby..."
"Does activating the mechanism box really make such a loud noise?" Cai Zhao questioned.
Chang Ning replied, "You're underestimating the Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff. For two hundred years, the Demonic Cult has exhausted all means yet failed to breach the cliff. The Azure Tower Sect naturally has its exceptional strengths."
"From the cliff edge to Dusk Micro Palace, there are checkpoints everywhere with disciples patrolling in rotation. If one spot is attacked, they immediately sound a silver whistle to alert others, and reinforcements arrive from all directions." He pointed to the disciple who had died with his sword half-drawn—a silver whistle indeed hung around his neck.
"Even if the cliff guards were ambushed before they could blow the whistle, the deafening roar from activating the mechanism box could be heard within a seven or eight li radius. As long as the patrolling teams weren't deaf, they could still sound the alarm, and the entire sect would be notified."
Cai Zhao couldn't help but press her small hand against the cold Mystic Iron mechanism box, her expression filled with awe.
Then a thought struck her. "Wait, that doesn't add up. Even if the disciples rushed over upon hearing the noise, by then the mechanism box would already have been activated, and the intruders would have already crossed."
Chang Ning smiled faintly. "How long did it take you to travel from Wind Cloud Peak to Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff on the iron chains?"
Cai Zhao paused, recalling the swaying chains and the grating sound of iron plates. "Our family of four took a carriage, so it took quite a while. But using qinggong would probably be much faster."
"Walking normally on the chains takes about half an hour. With qinggong, it can be halved," Chang Ning said quickly. "The mechanism activates with a thunderous noise, and the intruders reach the cliff a quarter-hour later—but by then, sect disciples would have already arrived."
"Moreover, only the first wave could make it up within that quarter-hour. Even if all seven chains were deployed, allowing seven experts to ascend at once, if the reinforcements far outnumbered them, just one or two could unlock the mechanism box's fastenings. The chains would immediately snap, sending everyone on them plummeting into the abyss."
Cai Zhao thought it through carefully and realized he was right. "Also, if they were using qinggong, they couldn't stay too close to each other. The chains sway so much that crowding would make it easy to fall."
She extrapolated further, "The first patrolling disciples to arrive would encounter the initial wave of Demonic Cult intruders, who are highly skilled fighters, overpowering the sect disciples. But as more sect members arrived... at least..." She glanced at the chaotic footprints. "At least forty or fifty." The Azure Tower Sect typically organized disciples into groups of seven, so there must have been at least seven or eight patrol groups around the cliff.
"The Demonic Cult intruders probably numbered around twenty," Chang Ning estimated based on timing.
Cai Zhao continued, "As more sect disciples arrived, the outnumbered Demonic Cult intruders, unable to hold their ground, focused on inflicting casualties before breaking through and fleeing north."
In terms of individual combat prowess, the Demonic Cult intruders were clearly superior to the sect disciples, making it impossible to stop them. So while some sounded the horn to alert the entire sect, the rest gave chase.
"That must be how it happened," Chang Ning agreed."But so what?" Cai Zhao looked at Chang Ning. "Even if all our deductions are correct, so what?"—If we don't hurry to reinforce Dusk Micro Palace soon, you damn poison-scarred face.
Chang Ning seemed to notice the girl's impatience: "That's the question. Would the Demonic Cult go through so much trouble just to send twenty-some people up to Azure Tower Sect? What could twenty people possibly do? If hundreds of sect disciples swarm them, they'd be trampled to death just by sheer numbers."
Cai Zhao was also stunned—how would she know?
Her head throbbed as she looked around frantically, then suddenly pointed at the previous corpse. "You said this person was killed by an inside traitor?"
Chang Ning paused, confirmed it, then asked why she asked.
Cai Zhao exclaimed in shock, "This... this is Initial Contemplation Swordplay!"
Chang Ning was startled and bent down to examine the body—the victim had been pierced through the left chest by a long sword, which exited from the right back, killing him instantly. "Are you sure?"
Cai Zhao nodded vigorously, pointing at the left chest. "If you don’t believe me, tear open his clothes and see—there should be a half-spiral wound where the sword tip entered the flesh."
Chang Ning ripped open the corpse’s chest garment, and indeed, it was as she described.
Cai Zhao explained, "This is the thirteenth stance of Initial Contemplation Swordplay, 'Gazing at the Moon from the Window,' a proud technique created by the third-generation Initial Contemplation Sect Leader, Xiaoyao Zi. My aunt told me that when executing this move, the swordsman first crouches halfway, then thrusts upward from below to strike the enemy’s vital point. Because the force must be directed upward, the sword hilt must be rotated upon piercing the flesh, leaving this curved sword mark."
Chang Ning looked down again and noticed faint traces of saliva near the silver whistle on the corpse’s neck. "This disciple saw his fellow sect member being attacked, so he bit the silver whistle before drawing his sword, intending to blow the whistle while defending himself..."
Cai Zhao understood and finished his thought, "The traitor feared this disciple would sound the silver whistle before he could activate the mechanism box. To prevent the Demonic Cult from failing to climb the cliff in time, he urgently resorted to his sect’s swordplay and killed him with a single strike."
Chang Ning asked, "Is 'Gazing at the Moon from the Window' only known to Initial Contemplation disciples?"
A chill ran down Cai Zhao’s spine. "It should be. Even my aunt only knew its form, not the oral formulas or mental techniques."
—Within the sect, the only ones who could perform Initial Contemplation Swordplay were Wu Gang and Wu Xiong, the brothers recuperating from injuries inside the sect!
Cai Zhao’s head spun. "All sect disciples know them—why didn’t they just send a warning message directly?!"
Chang Ning said grimly, "The Wu brothers must have left immediately after activating the mechanism box. Everyone who saw them is dead, and the patrolling disciples who arrived later didn’t encounter them."
Cai Zhao looked at Chang Ning in panic.
Understanding her meaning, Chang Ning grabbed the girl’s hand and sprinted northward.
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