Chapter 28: The Choice of Interests

The leading soldier’s expression was troubled. The fourth young master was notorious—even Lord Shangguan Cheng, who was of equal standing to the Marquis, had been so thoroughly defeated by him that he could barely function. After Shangguan Cheng was injured yesterday, the Marquis had him sent away overnight to recover, and it was said the Marquis himself personally assisted in treating him. Even so, it would take at least half a year for Shangguan Cheng to recover. As for himself and his companions, they were nowhere near a match for the fourth young master; the notion of forcibly apprehending him had long since been abandoned.

Truly, when immortals clash, it is the mortals who suffer. None of the men quite knew what to do. The lead soldier, looking pained, turned to Shangguan Chuanyun and pleaded.

“Fourth young master, please don’t make things difficult for us.”

“I’m not making things difficult. Just follow my instructions, and if anything happens, I’ll take responsibility. Let me finish what I must, and then I’ll return with you to report.”

With that, he pulled along his reluctant mother and led the group of martial artists away in grand fashion, paying no mind to what the Shenfeng Guard thought.

The Shenfeng Guard, seeing things had come to this, had no choice but to wait at the Marquis’s residence. They sent someone to keep an eye on Shangguan Chuanyun—there was no way to restrain him, but as long as they could answer the Marquis as to his whereabouts, it would suffice. All they could do was hope that, as he promised, he would return with them to give his report in a few days.

…

Inside the main hall of Lady Jia’s residence.

Lady Jia was not pleased with her son either, and said to him, “Chuanyun, I know you’re skilled in martial arts, but it’s truly dangerous out there. I don’t want you getting hurt—what would I do if anything happened to you?”

She even put on a look as if she might cry.

Shangguan Chuanyun saw at once that his mother’s performance had begun again, and replied, “Mother, your son’s martial skills are more than enough to defeat Shangguan Cheng. He’s a master among men, someone who can slay enemy generals amidst thousands on the battlefield. Yet I surpass him by a wide margin.”

At the mention of chaos on the battlefield, Lady Jia began to weep. “That’s even worse! In the midst of battle, swords and spears know no mercy. What if someone stronger than you appears?”

“Mother, Father has already ordered me to go this time. I won’t truly be charging recklessly into the fray, but I can help in some small way,” Shangguan Chuanyun said, resigned.

Lady Jia was a sensible woman. She knew this time he truly had no choice; their family depended on the Marquis, and she understood that this was merely a contest between the Marquis and the General Zhenyuan. She sighed and said, “Then, if you must go, you must promise me a few things.”

Shangguan Chuanyun sensed his mother understood the dangers swirling through the capital and asked, “What things?”

Lady Jia thought for a moment. “First, if you find yourself among our own with superior numbers, then fight. If the enemy outnumbers you, run. Don’t play the hero when you’re outmatched—even if you lose, as long as you come back safe, that’s all that matters.”

Her logic made him want to laugh and cry. If everyone in battle acted this way, they’d never even start fighting. Still, it made sense—if things truly became desperate, retreating could preserve their strength. Otherwise, defeat would scatter their forces and make regrouping nearly impossible. This time was different: his status as the fourth young master of the Marquis’s household held weight in the Liang Kingdom, at least in the capital.

The path of the sword immortal was inherently costly. No wonder generations of cultivators had tried to persuade emperors to seek immortality, using the emperor’s authority to gather dragon energy and resources. After all, scouring the mountains alone for minerals could never compare to mobilizing the entire country’s resources.

If he truly fled at a critical moment on the battlefield, that would be a grave dereliction of duty. Even if he remained cautious, he would never allow his father, the Marquis of Wu’an, to suffer defeat in the southern territories—it would ruin his own future. Yet, upon reflection, his mother’s words were reasonable.

Seeing her son consider her advice, Lady Jia voiced her second request. “I’ve arranged a marriage for you. Though her family is not as illustrious as ours, they are still a reputable clan in the capital. I’ve met the girl myself—she’s well-educated and graceful…”

Shangguan Chuanyun felt a wave of dizziness, not out of opposition, but because his mother’s tactics defied all logic. He said quickly, “Mother, let’s set aside this marriage for now. Let’s talk about it in a few years.”

He had his reasons. Pursuing the way of the sword demanded undivided attention; as time went on, he would have less and less time for family, and he was destined to seem heartless. He did not intend to save the world, but neither would he ruin a young woman’s life for his own benefit. He couldn’t outright refuse, but he could delay it for a few years, and so he told his mother, “I think it’s better to wait a few years. These are troubled times in the capital—who knows if our Shangguan family might fall from favor? Then this marriage might become a laughingstock.”

He put on a heavy-hearted expression, glancing at his mother with some secret delight. “I’d rather wait until our household is secure before discussing such matters.”

Lady Jia felt a pang of sympathy for her son, but she knew he spoke the truth. The realm was in turmoil, and even the capital was becoming chaotic. She sighed and said, “Chuanyun, I only wish you to marry soon, so you’ll have a home to return to, something to think of when you’re away. The news from the Jia trading house suggests the capital may soon be swept up in even greater unrest—who knows what the future holds?”

He understood, but could not agree. Though the path of the sword immortal did not forbid marriage or children, he simply would not be able to care for a family. He would rather not become the heartless man who abandoned his wife. For now, he could only bide his time. “Mother, there’s no need to rush. If you arrange a marriage now, and the capital falls into chaos, should I protect you or my wife when we flee?”

“Can’t you protect both?” Lady Jia pondered, then realized the dilemma. “I suppose you can only protect one,” said Shangguan Chuanyun.

Lady Jia felt awkward at the question, glared at her son, then, after some thought, said, “Perhaps it’s best to wait for more peaceful times before you marry.”

“Indeed, Mother, your wisdom is unparalleled,” Shangguan Chuanyun replied cheerfully.

He remembered he still had things to do, so he excused himself while Lady Jia was distracted by her thoughts.

After he left, Lady Jia realized he’d used this as an excuse to avoid marriage, and she couldn’t help but smile. Still, she had to admit there was truth in what he said. She would have to find a way that satisfied both mother and son. She’d seen too many cases where, after marriage, the parents became superfluous in their children’s lives. She turned the matter over in her mind for a long time, but found no solution. With a headache, she shook her head and resolved not to think about it for now.

…

He who does not plan for the whole cannot manage a single domain; only with preparation can one avoid calamity.

It was true that in the face of overwhelming power, all schemes are but paper tigers. Yet, for Shangguan Chuanyun, this was not quite suitable. Ever since he’d learned of the centipede demon from the Universal Salvation Temple, he’d been uneasy. His strength was only at the Minor Pill stage; his flying sword was just beginning to take shape. This was a time for quiet cultivation, not bold action. His abilities were neither high nor low—better than some, but not enough for true security.

He probably couldn’t even defeat the wild-haired Daoist, Wuchenzi, let alone the centipede demon, now infused with the dragon energy of the palace.

Lacking great strength, he knew he needed to prepare items to bolster his abilities. So, he went out to buy sulphur, saltpeter, charcoal, and cinnabar, and even spent a high price to acquire several pieces of lightning-struck wood—something only the fourth young master of the Marquis’s house could obtain with ease. He also had people gather rooster comb blood.

Back in his room, he took out the Nine Apertures Alchemical Furnace and set about his work.

He had found the Thundercrash Bomb useful before, but this time, he intended to refine a more targeted version—no more ordinary Thundercrash Bombs, but something specifically designed to confront the centipede demon. Thus, he sought out lightning-struck wood and rooster comb blood.

Lightning-struck wood contained the power of heavenly thunder, which was especially effective against evil spirits. The centipede demon was just such a creature, making this the ideal material.

As for rooster comb blood, it was collected exclusively from young cockerels, no more than three days into their first crowing. Such blood was pure yang in nature, igniting upon contact with yin energy, and was particularly effective against demonic creatures such as centipedes and scorpions.

He also understood the true power of the Thundercrash Bomb. If he followed the external alchemy method and engraved talismans with his sword energy, its power would increase, but its greatest benefit would be its ability to dispel evil.

He’d read the book on external alchemy—the principles were straightforward. By combining materials capable of holding magical energy with specifically formulated gunpowder, and blending them according to the principles of yin and yang and medicinal properties, then fusing everything with talismans, the result was a special artifact.

To him, this was simply chemistry, combined with materials that could contain elemental energy. The so-called talisman was a pattern inscribed in seal script upon the vessel, embodying the truths comprehended by sages gazing upon heaven and earth. A talisman, at its core, was something that resonated and harmonized with the Tao; it was a microcosm of the great principle, with various forms such as bird script, cloud script, thunder script, and so on.

Once one comprehended a single principle in cultivation, all others became clear. This was the gateway to the path, the root of the mysterious and the entry to the Tao. Thus, he found all branches of cultivation understandable, though true mastery required focus and dedication.

External alchemy had flourished in his previous life. Aside from the inability to measure elemental energy with instruments, everything else had been thoroughly studied. If he had the right equipment, he could probably produce external pills on an assembly line.

For now, though, the Nine Apertures Alchemical Furnace would suffice. It was the pinnacle of technology in this world, even if he could only produce one batch at a time and ran the occasional risk of explosion. At least he could observe the subtle changes within. Both internal and external alchemical pills took the same golden, round form, and, after all, the internal path had evolved from the external.