Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 143: A Corner of Heaven’s Will

They seemed to have returned to the previous story the mudslide was still a mudslide, Zhuang Feng was still Zhuang Feng, and the elites were still the same elites.

Only this time, there was no tent belonging to Zhuang Guiqu, and no so-called “Heaven-Breaking Divine Art”.

The villagers were still fumbling about in the aftermath of the disaster, trying to save themselves. No one even considered blaming the “Great God of Calamity” for what had happened.

Makes sense, Fang Xiu thought to himself.

This village had experienced floods over the past century. The consequences of a few foolish wishes here and there were well-known to the locals. Would they really buy into the idea that this disaster was caused by the “Great God of Calamity”?

…Looking deeper, could just a few hundred cultivators cursing and setting fires really be enough to summon the “Great God of Calamity”?

…Could the “Great God of Calamity”, simply throwing a tantrum in one corner of Xushan, really have forced the immortals to hand over the “Heaven-Breaking Divine Art” to Zhuang Guiqu?

…With the borders in turmoil, would the imperial court really station troops near this desolate mountain village, ready to assist at a moment’s notice?

Something was off. Thinking it through in reverse, there were countless details in that “script” that didn’t add up.

Fang Xiu appeared without hesitation and strode up to the black Taoist. “What are you doing?”

With a flick of his sleeve, a crimson robe blocked between them.

The sudden appearance of a stranger dressed in red with heterochromatic eyes caused the soldier tugging at the Taoist to instinctively take a half-step back.

The Taoist reacted quickly, darting behind Fang Xiu without hesitation.

“Master, save me! Please!”

“What’s going on?” Fang Xiu asked bluntly, standing between them.

Clutching the still-wailing child, the Taoist immediately launched into his accusation.

“They all say this place was destroyed by the Great God of Calamity. I’ve been running around for years. Don’t I know better than anyone? This was a natural disaster! But that bastard surnamed Zhuang tricked us into coming here!”

“I just dug out this child’s parents. Surname Zhuang’s lackeys said it was a hassle and killed them on the spot! They even sealed off the road down the mountain during the night. They’re clearly up to no good!”

He cursed loudly, spittle flying onto Fang Xiu’s neck.

Fang Xiu turned to look at the soldier—or rather, one of Zhuang Feng’s “personal guards”. The man remained expressionless, but seeing Fang Xiu quietly listening to the Taoist’s complaint, his eyes took on a mocking gleam.

“Just some useless scum, now suddenly bold. The God of Calamity should be purged. To die here is to return one’s soul to the mountains and earn merit for eternity.”

He widened his eyes and bared his teeth in a grin. “I carry a talisman personally bestowed by Master Zhuang. Your pathetic magic— Ow!”

Fang Xiu, still dressed as a proper “cultivator” in red robes and with heterochromatic eyes, calmly pulled out a can of Wangzai and hurled it at the soldier’s nose.

The whole action was incredibly plain, with no magic involved at all. There was only just a crisp crack.

The Taoist: “…”

It was clear he had to regulate his breathing to keep from laughing aloud.

Before the soldier could react, Fang Xiu grabbed the Taoist’s robes again and dragged him toward the shadows. A’Shou moved to cover them. Using the concealment ring Bai Shuangying had gifted him, the group quickly escaped the scene.

Just like last time, they hid beside the shrine.

The shrine had been destroyed by the mudslide. The white porcelain statue was exposed, splashed with mud. A boulder had cracked its head, leaving a large, visible fissure.

But unlike the last time, when fervor filled the air, this time no one paid the statue any mind.

Fang Xiu glanced over the broken idol and suddenly felt a deep unease. If Zhuang Feng and his soldiers hadn’t come, the villagers probably wouldn’t have rebuilt this “ominous” shrine after the mudslide.

After the floods a century ago, people should have parted ways peacefully.

This mudslide was meant to be a natural farewell.

However…

The Taoist carefully covered the child’s mouth to keep him quiet. The soldier, unconcerned with the three who escaped, quickly redirected his attention to nearby survivors.

He dragged those still able to move from the mud and hauled them toward the firelight—

There lay a massive earthen pit, already filled with many survivors. The mudslide had left the soil soft and wet; those who fell into the pit sank like they were in a swamp and had little chance of climbing out.

Beside the pit stood an eerie altar and incense burner, thick with burning incense.

Zhuang Feng approached with sword in hand. This time, instead of raising the flaming blade to the sky, he stabbed it into the mud.

The Taoist cursed softly under his breath. “What if we hand the kid to that girl, and we go cause a scene? Save who we can!”

Fang Xiu looked at the flames in the distance and shook his head. These were Bai Shuangying’s stories. He couldn’t save the dead from a thousand years ago.

Still, he softened his words slightly.

“My strength is limited. I have the will, but not the means.”

The Taoist didn’t understand. “But you still saved me.”

Hearing that, even A’Shou turned her head toward Fang Xiu. But he continued staring into the distance, ignoring their gazes.

“…Maybe I just like doing unnecessary things before the end arrives.”

He exhaled softly, waiting for some strange intrusive thought to appear.

Strangely enough, this time everything was quiet. Those tempting thoughts had been swallowed along with Bai Shuangying’s transformation.

No narration. No interference.

Fang Xiu watched as the soldiers controlled the survivors and cultivators, throwing them into the muddy pit.

From dusk till dawn, Zhuang Feng’s men worked tirelessly, filling the pit until it overflowed.

The Taoist’s righteous fury was thoroughly extinguished. He was now trembling with fear.

“Master, once they finish, you should take the child and get down the mountain.”

“What about you?” Fang Xiu asked.

The Taoist gave a bitter smile.

“I want to see this through, record these vile deeds, and get the word out. Otherwise, when that bastard Zhuang Feng returns to the capital, who knows what lies he’ll spread?”

At the end, he nearly lost his voice.

Fang Xiu silently looked at him.

“I want to see the end too,” he finally said. “You could try to escape early, but Zhuang Feng has sealed the way. He’ll be prepared.”

He had already seen this tragedy unfold once before, a century ago.

The Taoist paused, showing a trace of hesitation. In the end, he clutched the child tightly and nodded at Fang Xiu.

“I understand. Thank you, Master.”

He didn’t flee. Instead, he crouched quietly beside Fang Xiu, this “heaven-sent master”, racking his brain for a way to preserve the memory of a life already ended.

And over at the pit, the slaughter continued.

As Zhuang Feng chanted his incantations, thick muddy water slowly filled the giant pit. Survivors thrashed as they were submerged, becoming like stones at the riverbed.

Fang Xiu watched as the magic commanded the mud to flood the pit, burying hundreds alive. The whole process was seamless and fluid.

As soon as the pit was filled, Zhuang Feng used his sword like a pen to etch lines atop the mud. The flames hardened the sludge, making every stroke razor-sharp.

Seeing the array take shape, A’Shou couldn’t help but curse aloud.

“Completely evil!”

“What kind of spell is that?” Fang Xiu asked, unfamiliar with it.

“A distorted version of the Four Symbols Spirit-Viewing Array. The original is an immortal technique used to observe mortal fate. These bastards modified it—using humans related by karma as living sacrifices to measure the strength of the ‘Great God of Calamity’!”

A’Shou’s face was full of anger.

“What do they think mortals are?”

The Taoist gasped, shrinking back with the child.

Fang Xiu gave a short reply but said little more.

By now, it was clear that the “Great God of Calamity” was closely linked to Bai Shuangying.

Over the century, mountain gods and spirits had received mixed reputations.

But the strength of this “Great God of Calamity” still lacked a clear benchmark. All Fang Xiu knew was that his ghost lived in Xushan and had been sealed away.

The elderly immortal who came to warn Bai Shuangying had shown particular respect, but that was only circumstantial evidence.

Other possibilities existed, of course. Maybe his ghost was only the God of Calamity’s emissary. Maybe just a witness.

But these odd theories could not override the facts pressing closer.

…Only one last piece of the puzzle was missing.

Fang Xiu’s mouth was dry, his body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding against his ribs.

Ever since entering the Immortal Encounter Ritual, his mind had been running nonstop. Now, it was on the verge of shutting down.

All those tightrope-like schemes and surprise gifts he had planned for Bai Shuangying were now jumbled together, exploding into a ridiculous mess of fireworks.

The plan he had spent more than ten years crafting had turned into scattered playing cards, shuffled by fate and now about to land.

He subconsciously placed his hands on his chest and abdomen. Bai Shuangying had grown quiet inside him, as if waiting for something as well.

In the damp night air, the magical patterns on the mud began glowing red, shining with piercing light.

That light twisted across the ruins, converging on the center of the former pit.

When the light faded, a warped word appeared in the middle.

It blended the characters for “god” and “evil”, its strokes tangled and shifting constantly, making the viewer dizzy. Zhuang Feng stared at the giant symbol, larger than a human head, and his smile deepened.

The Taoist had never seen such advanced magic. He let out a confused “huh.”

A’Shou, however, turned pale and froze in place.

Fang Xiu whipped his head toward her. For the first time, he saw despair on her face.

“How can this be?” A’Shou clutched her head and muttered. “No, no, wait. If it’s like this… it actually explains everything. That’s why the immortals acted. That’s why they built the Tower…”

“Underneath the Disaster Relief Tower—what it’s been suppressing all along…”

“Master, I finally found it! It really is a corner of Heaven’s Will, a corner of Heaven’s Will!”

“They say Heaven and Earth have divine order. No god or ghost can see it. Yet this spirit of the ten thousand mountains has entered the world!”

His voice brimmed with manic joy, as if he had just passed the imperial exam.

“A Corner of Heaven’s Will has entered the mortal realm. Dragging down immortals may not be far behind!”

“This is destiny. This is fate. The Guishan Sect… has succeeded!”

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