Chapter 190 | The Galgame Martial Saint

Looking at the malevolent spirit before her, Zhou Qingmu began to formulate a plan for the interrogation.

The Night Guard had a set of old rules for questioning members of the Longevity Sect that were quite effective. It usually involved beating the person half to death and then using a special secret technique to extract information. Out of ten Longevity Sect members, perhaps two or three might reveal something, which was considered a fairly high success rate.

Though she was somewhat worried the captive might not survive the interrogation, he was the only Longevity Sect member who had practically delivered himself to their doorstep. She would simply have to take the gamble.

Just as she was about to act, Gu Chengming stepped in to stop her. He gave her a slight nod, signaling that he had his own method of interrogation.

Zhou Qingmu was skeptical, but she watched as Gu Chengming sat before the spirit as if performing some kind of art.

The malevolent spirit's eyes glazed over, and he instantly entered some kind of illusion.

Meanwhile, inside the Hat Trial Court.

Yu Xinji's head was already covered in hats: Transgressing the Heavenly Order, Violating Laws and Discipline, Destroying People's Cultivation!

He had originally intended to stay firm. After all, one of the rules of the Longevity Sect was to die rather than confess.

The malevolent vessel could be destroyed, but the sect's plans must not be leaked!

Then, he received the first strike from the copper-headed belt.

The sensation of the copper-headed belt striking his spiritual terrace was not like a simple physical beating. It felt as if someone were using a hammer to grind his soul. Each strike left a white mark, and the pain was so intense he couldn't even manage a coherent scream.

After a single strike, he became honest.

“I'll talk! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!!”

In Zhou Qingmu's eyes, only a few breaths after Gu Chengming activated his secret technique, the spirit's entire body shuddered as if he had experienced something utterly terrifying. Then, he began to spill everything in a torrent of information: the outposts in the capital, the time the Great Longevity Banquet would begin, the records of the sect's register, the hidden sentries in the old pagoda tree south of the city...

Gu Chengming leaned forward. “Is there more?”

“There's also the rotation schedule for the imperial osmanthus garden in the western suburbs! The seventh, fifteenth, and twenty-third. They enter at the hour of chen and change guards at the hour of wu—”

Yu Xinji collapsed under the spirit talismans, gasping for breath. Zhou Qingmu finally asked, “Is it credible?”

“It's credible.”

Gu Chengming smiled. Guessing that Zhou Qingmu was worried his 'secret technique' might be ineffective, he gave a brief explanation.

Zhou Qingmu opened her mouth to speak but ultimately chose to trust Gu Chengming. Once the latter had squeezed out every bit of intelligence, he showed no mercy.

With a single punch, Yu Xinji's plea for mercy was cut short as he was turned into a pile of mangled flesh in the center of the table.

Zhou Qingmu stared at the mess on the table, hesitating to speak.

During her years in the capital, she had often heard people say the “Falling Snow Pass Murder Demon kills Longevity Sect members without leaving a corpse intact.” She had even specifically asked Liu Batian exactly what degree of “not intact” it was. Vice Commander Liu had been evasive, finally stuttering out that he “couldn't quite describe the specific nature of the lack of intactness.”

At the time, she simply thought her subordinate was poor with words. Now that she had seen it with her own eyes, she understood why he couldn't describe it.

Luo Jinyao sat on the other side of the cabin, her expression composed. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it over. “Wipe your hands.”

Gu Chengming took it and wiped his knuckles. “Thank you, Senior Sister Luo.”

Zhou Qingmu's gaze shifted between the two, and she felt a slight pang of regret. When she had first heard the title “Falling Snow Pass Murder Demon” in the capital, she hadn't thought to ask Luo Jinyao for more details. Had she known this day would come, she should have done that bit of homework.

On the other hand, Gu Chengming, having dealt with the spirit, found himself facing a new question.

To be honest, he had always been puzzled...

How did the Longevity Sect manage to be so pathetic while simultaneously planting schemes across Daqian and various sects?

It was known that the Longevity Sect had eight “Near Heaven” experts and several deacons, but no Sixth Realm experts on the surface.

That meant it was an organization with eight Fifth Realm experts. Furthermore, those experts only acted as executors for major events. Under such circumstances, they had somehow managed to evade the encirclement of Daqian and other sects, surviving to this day.

He voiced his confusion, and Zhou Qingmu couldn't help but laugh when she heard his questions. “Little Gu, do you think they are easy to kill?”

Gu Chengming pondered for a moment. “They certainly aren't as troublesome as I imagined.”

“That's because they ran into you.” Zhou Qingmu shook her head. “For anyone else, the situation would likely be reversed.” She paused and added, “Every Longevity Sect member has life-saving methods. Ordinary cultivators cannot catch them, and even if they do, they can't necessarily keep them there.”

Speaking of this, she recalled an old event. “I once killed a Near Heaven expert. In that battle, her sea of consciousness had already been drained; by all rights, she should have been dead. Yet, the moment before she drew her last breath, she forcibly stuffed her entire spiritual skeleton and sea of consciousness into a broken sword. It took a great deal of effort for me to truly slay her.”

Gu Chengming grew thoughtful at those words.

Thinking back, it was true. The very first Longevity Sect members he killed were masters of escape techniques, and he had only been at the Second Realm then.

Then there was the one he killed just after unlocking Emperor Bai's assistance. If that person hadn't been obsessed with “recruiting him,” it would have taken quite some effort to kill him completely, given that he had more than one life.

The same went for the Near Heaven expert, Sorrow. If he hadn't happened to have a technique specifically targeting that collective of emotions, it would have been a pipe dream for an ordinary cultivator to even wound it.

So, was the Longevity Sect simply very good at running away?

Reflecting on this, Gu Chengming felt a subtle shift in perspective.

His journey of killing them had been so smooth that “Longevity Sect members are easy to kill” had become a stereotype in his mind. It seemed they did indeed have some skill to have maintained a foothold in the cultivation world for so long.

【Qingxin Art said rather amusingly: This Longevity Sect member must feel quite aggrieved, being beaten to death by a flurry of punches before he could even use his skills. However, Little Gu, you must remember—even if you haven't suffered for it yet, it's always right to be cautious.】

That made sense.

Gu Chengming silently noted this lesson and raised his cup to drink tea, treating it as a way to digest the information.

...

The bow of the boat broke through the clouds as the capital came into view. The day they arrived was a clear one, with the sun resting upon the blue tiles of the imperial city. Gu Chengming stood at the bow, gazing at the familiar silhouette of the city walls.

He didn't feel the sentiment of a “traveler returning home”; instead, he felt a subtle sense of dissonance.

The capital looked unchanged, but this “lack of change” was exactly what felt wrong.

During his first visit to the capital, his strongest impression was that the place was excessively infested with malevolent spirits.

As the royal city of Daqian and the place where the world's spiritual energy was most abundant, it should have been a place where whales and sharks lived, leaving no room for loaches. Yet, it was crawling with them. One could walk three steps at night and bump into two trails of yin qi. Later, while serving in the Night Guard, he had caught nearly every spirit he could find in the city. For a while, it had indeed been quiet. When he left, he had been quite proud, feeling he had at least left the imperial city a bit cleaner.

Now that he was back, his divine sense swept out, only to find yin qi entrenched and filth surging in the shadows. They were gathered in groups of two or five in the corners of alleys.

It was like opening the door to an old house after ten years only to find the same cockroaches from back then, scuttling everywhere and causing irritation.

As if sensing something, Zhou Qingmu suddenly glanced at him. “Little Gu?”

“Director.” Gu Chengming smiled. “I'll head into the city for a look first. You two head back to the division, and we'll talk tomorrow.”

Zhou Qingmu was taken aback but ultimately agreed.

What she didn't expect was that this so-called “look into the city” would cause such a massive commotion.

In just a single day, Gu Chengming made the capital remember the name of the “Falling Snow Pass Murder Demon.”

That was for later. For now, after entering the city...

Gu Chengming didn't head straight to any particular place to cause trouble. Instead, he opened a window in a high tower of the Night Guard's duty office and gazed toward the imperial city. With a thought, his divine sense spread out like a thin net, covering the sky and earth.

The Red Dust Technique was activated, and every evil cause and effect within the capital manifested on that net.

Wherever a point lit up, he would tap a white jade talisman. When a talisman moved, a flying sword would burst from his sleeve into the air.

...

Before the hour of wu, in various places throughout the city.

In a dark, narrow alley, the withered corpse of a beggar that had been abandoned for days was slowly sitting up inch by inch. Wisps of black qi crawled from its eye sockets. Its mouth opened, intending to find some unlucky soul's life to moisten its throat.

Suddenly, a line of sword light flashed in mid-air.

Silent and invisible, it shot straight from a rooftop in the south of the city, making three extremely sharp turns, bypassing two awnings, and brushing past the ear of an old man selling candied haws before pinning itself firmly into the corpse's brow. Before the corpse could even let out a cry, it scattered into a cloud of black ash.

The flying sword paused for half a breath, seemingly checking if there was any other work nearby, before turning its point and floating toward the next street.

In the cellar of a derelict house, several wisps of yin spirits were gathered around a piece of corpse wax, repairing their main bodies. They were the lowest-level parasites of the sect, usually picking on neglected lonely souls to make ends meet.

In the next instant, a hole was suddenly punched through the ceiling of the cellar. Four flying swords fell simultaneously. The first three took out the three yin spirits, while the last one struck the center of the corpse wax, splitting it in two.

The Longevity Sect member's expression darkened, and he was about to shout a question when he felt a chill at the back of his neck. His head rolled off his shoulders, tumbling down the steps of the altar to his own feet. His eyes remained open, his shock frozen.

Several low-level deacons nearby were scared out of their wits. Just as they were about to flee, sword light erupted atop the altar.

Ten flying swords unsheathed instantly, sealing the entire temple so tightly not even water could pass through.

The Entanglement Sword Intent was dense and continuous. No matter how the deacons activated their escape techniques, it felt like stepping into thick mud; they couldn't move an inch.

The moment the swords were withdrawn, only a pile of mangled flesh remained in the temple.

Sword light like this had not stopped since the start of the hour of chen.

Some burst from rooftops in the west, some dived into wells in the north, and some brushed past the old man selling candied haws, scaring him into shouting that he'd seen a ghost.

The sword shadows came and went silently. Most pedestrians on the road simply assumed it was some sword cultivator passing through, letting out a few shouts of surprise before hurrying on their way.

...

By evening, above the imperial city.

Inside the Night Guard's duty office, Gu Chengming sat at the tea table by the western window. A pot of freshly brewed tea sat by his hand. Ten small white jade talismans were lined up on the table, each corresponding to a flying sword outside.

His eyes were closed, and his divine sense was like a net draped over the capital. The karmic threads found by the Red Dust Technique fell upon the net, and any thread entangled with “evil causes and effects” would light up as a tiny speck of light in his sea of consciousness.

Wherever a point lit up, he would tap a white jade talisman.

When a white jade talisman moved, a flying sword would descend from the heavens at a certain street, a certain house, a certain well, or beneath the roots of a certain withered willow.

Without leaving his room, he was slaying a multitude of evils with his flying swords!

By the hour of xu, the night markets across the capital had opened, and the streets were crowded with people.

Someone looked up and saw a long sword streaking across the sky, shouting in surprise and pointing it out to their companion.

The companion looked up impatiently and was also stunned. The sword glided slowly overhead, its point aimed downward as if targeting something. In the next breath, the sword light suddenly plummeted, plunging into a dark alley. A scream that didn't sound human erupted from the alley.

Then came dead silence. The sword light flew out from the alley entrance and continued northward.

Discussions broke out everywhere.

“...What was that just now?!”

“A sword!”

“Which house does that flying sword belong to? To be so bold as to fly around above the imperial city?”

“Shh, keep your voice down.”

“Why?”

“Didn't you see? What was just slain was a malevolent spirit!”

“I passed by that alley a few days ago and didn't dare enter because it felt so eerie. It doesn't feel eerie today.” The flying sword flew further and further away, passing over the eaves of the city's bell tower and vanishing into the night.

By the hour of hai, at the southern gate of the capital, the guards were yawning, about to change shifts.

They suddenly heard the sound of wind overhead. Looking up, they saw ten flying swords streaking over the city tower in unison, flying from inside the city to the outside. The guards were stunned, and one nudged his companion.

“Brother, look at that...”

“I see it.”

“Which sword immortal is that? That has to be at least the Fifth Realm. How do they dare to act like this within the capital?”

The ten flying swords cleared the city walls, circled the forest outside for a lap as if searching for the last few escapees, then leisurely returned, flying half a circle around the city tower before returning to their positions.

Outside on the street, the gong was struck three times.

The watchman carried his lantern, walking slowly past the base of the city tower, his voice trailing long and thin as it drifted into every alley on the night breeze.

“The sky is clear and the moon is bright. Sleep well tonight—”

The next morning, the tea houses and taverns across the city were buzzing.

Some had seen the ten flying swords leave the southern gate with their own eyes. Others said the narrow alley they had always been afraid to walk through was now free of yin qi. There was even a peddler who claimed with absolute certainty that as he pushed his cart past the derelict house in the east yesterday, he had clearly heard the sound of sword cries in the cellar, and this morning it was completely empty.

The Night Guard initially treated it as street gossip until several stacks of reports from various locations last night were placed on Zhou Qingmu's desk. The vice commanders on duty read through them and looked at each other.

Some remembered the figure standing beside Zhou Qingmu at the bow of the boat yesterday and already had an answer in their hearts.

...

The Longevity Sect truly didn't dare to show its head for a while.

To be honest, Gu Chengming had estimated his work would take ten days to half a month. However, after the first night's sweep with the ten flying swords and another sweep of his divine sense at the hour of chen the next morning, no more evil causes and effects could be found within the capital. This turn of events gave him a few days of leisure.

Over the next few days, Gu Chengming settled into the Night Guard Division.

Zhou Qingmu had originally intended to accompany him to the place where True Monarch Wangyue was sealed, and there were many things to settle before their departure.

It was during this brief respite that Gu Chengming's heart suddenly stirred. The room for the Pure Heart Art of Love had remained unopened until now.

He hadn't been intentionally avoiding it; it was just that he had been busy with various matters, and it had been set aside time and again.

Now that he had no urgent tasks, he couldn't delay it any longer.

He calculated in his mind; now was the perfect time.

Huiyuan Sword Manual of Love, Hundred Bones Resonating of Love... with every aspect of his understanding of “love” he unlocked, his insight grew deeper. Though these CGs were named after love, they were actually paths to observing one's true heart, allowing for no trickery.

So, what would the trial for the Pure Heart Art test?

Gu Chengming took a deep breath, pushing down his stray thoughts. Once he had made his decision, he no longer hesitated.

He turned and entered his room, closing the door and sitting cross-legged on the bed.

His breathing slowed, and his divine sense sank. Gray mist surged from all sides, and the familiar arched corridor appeared beneath his feet, stretching far into the distance beyond his sight.

He did not stop, walking straight toward the door at the end of the corridor that he had never opened. The gray mist that had originally shrouded the lintel had vanished at some point, revealing several pale gold patterns. The patterns were winding and graceful, like smoke and clouds lingering together.

Gu Chengming reached out and pushed the door open. The scene inside was unexpected.

Unlike the rooms for the Huiyuan Sword Manual of Love and the Hundred Bones Resonating of Love, what lay behind this door was a small courtyard.

Green bricks paved the ground, and a six-petaled lantern hung from the corner of the corridor. An old plum tree in the courtyard extended half a branch, with a few late-blooming red blossoms resting on the tips. A stone table stood in the courtyard, with half a cup of cold tea and an open storybook on it, turned to chapter one hundred and ninety. The yellowed pages and curled edges showed it was a book often read.

Gu Chengming stood at the door, stunned for a moment, when a wisp of fragrance rose beside him.

“Little Gu is finally willing to come.”

The voice came from beside him. He turned, and the Pure Heart Art was standing there. She wore a simple long robe, and her purple hair was loosely tied with a green bamboo hairpin.

Her features were exactly as Gu Chengming had imagined—quiet with a hint of a provocative tilt to her eyes. Her lips were curved in a smile, and looking at her felt like a finger pressing gently against his heart.

She spoke with a hint of resentment, “I've been waiting for a long time.”

Gu Chengming felt a warmth in his heart. Just as he was about to speak, a second voice sounded from the other side of the courtyard.

“Welcome.”

The voice was almost identical to the Pure Heart Art's, except the ending was a bit deeper. A figure emerged from behind a pillar. Her clothes were simple, her purple hair was tied with a green bamboo hairpin, and her features were practically cast from the same mold. Only the original Pure Heart Art frowned slightly.

Gu Chengming already had a general idea. Was this perhaps the Pure Heart Art of Love?

Ignoring whatever Gu Chengming was thinking, the Pure Heart Art of Love spoke on her own:

“Make the right choice, and you pass.”

—Make the right choice.

For a galgame veteran, these words were all too familiar.

Every option was a minefield. One wrong choice could lead to the wrong character route at best, or trigger a single-ending bad end, the disappearance of all characters, and a reset of the progress bar at worst.

For a veteran player conquering a galgame, the most important thing was to distinguish the hidden sub-plots beneath seemingly insignificant options, the increase or decrease of affection, and the “correct solution” that decided the direction of the entire route in that single instant.

In a sense, his skills had been honed through countless uses of the save-and-load method.

Now, asking him to make a choice... wasn't that exactly his specialty?

—Is this a test of my skills as a galgame master?

The thought flashed through Gu Chengming's mind, but his expression didn't change in the slightest.

Beside him, the Pure Heart Art looked up at him, her expression holding a hint of unease. Gu Chengming noticed and gave her hand a gentle squeeze without saying a word.

The Pure Heart Art looked at him and didn't ask further, simply suppressing that trace of emotion.

Gu Chengming then looked at the Pure Heart Art of Love. “How will you test me?”

The Pure Heart Art of Love gave a thin smile and waved her hand toward him.

The courtyard, the lantern, the old plum tree, and the storybook all lost their color.

The scene before Gu Chengming's eyes darkened inch by inch until only a void of black remained.

—He had fallen into the mystery of the womb.

...

On the other side, outside the “illusion,” the Pure Heart Art was on high alert.

The Pure Heart Art of Love, however, explained unhurriedly, “You should understand what it means to make the right choice.”

She seemed to have plenty of patience. Seeing the Pure Heart Art's state, she continued on her own, “In this illusion, he will live, age, sicken, and die like a mortal. He will suffer due to a lowly birth, yield due to a lack of power, and be bullied, insulted, and looked down upon.” She paused and tilted her head as if savoring an interesting phrase.

“In a mortal's life, seventy or eighty percent of things are lost, unattainable, or unfulfilled. He will get sick, he will age, and he will feel powerless against too many things. You and I are techniques born from the red dust; we should know that the most painful thing in this world is this day-after-day attrition.”

The Pure Heart Art remained silent and did not respond.

“No talent, no backing, no one to cover for him.” The voice of the Pure Heart Art of Love was calm. “If he were just an ordinary mortal, facing those dilemmas where no choice is the right one, would he still be able to make the choice he did back then?”

“Or perhaps...” She turned her head, looking at the Pure Heart Art's face. “Will he be like the Reef Daoist, pretending he never picked up that sword?”

Reef Daoist...

That name was the root of the Pure Heart Art's trauma.

She was born of hatred and existed because of fear. For many years before this, she hadn't even been willing to face the reason for her birth—until Gu Chengming struck that blow, shattering the century-old cage for her.

After a long while, the Pure Heart Art turned to face the Pure Heart Art of Love.

“I believe in him.”

The Pure Heart Art of Love looked into her eyes, her smile fading slightly as her tone shifted naturally. “Believing is one thing, but aren't you curious?” Her voice became even softer:

“What if he were born into the lowliest of families? His mother died young, his father was sickly, and he was looked down upon by his clan since childhood. With mediocre talent, he didn't even have the qualifications to enter a sect. At thirteen, he saved for three years to buy an iron sword, only for the shopkeeper to turn around and sell it to a direct descendant of the clan. At sixteen, the girl he liked married the son of a merchant in the city; she came to see him in the alley before the wedding only to tell him he was a good person.”

“At twenty, he fell ill and couldn't afford medicine, crouching by the river south of the city to count the seven or eight copper coins in his hand. At thirty, he was still doing odd jobs in that small city, listening to the storyteller in the tavern talk about how the Falling Snow Pass Murder Demon took a dragon's head from ten thousand miles away. He clapped and cheered, then turned to refill a pot of cheap wine for a customer.”

“At fifty, he coughed blood all night. As he lay dying, he looked at the old plum tree outside the window, wondering if there had ever been a single moment in his life that could be called 'me'.” She spoke steadily. “Tell me, at that time, when he faced an untouchable person like Ao Qing, would he still draw his sword?”

The Pure Heart Art's expression cooled. “You are trying to shake me.”

“I am telling you,” said the Pure Heart Art of Love, “the suffering of a mortal is not something a cultivator can easily glimpse. The so-called 'true heart' is merely following the current for a genius, but for an ordinary man, it is defying heaven and destiny.”

She pressed her hand against the screen of the illusion. “So for this trial, he can only be a mortal.”

Within the screen of the illusion, light began to seep in inch by inch.

Green brick roofs, carved beams, and painted pillars... the sound of maids whispering in the outer room, the chirping of birds in the distant courtyard, and the faint beat of drums even further away... Gu Chengming lay in a bed with a brocade quilt embroidered with lotus vines, his fingers curled into a chubby little ball.

The Pure Heart Art of Love stood in the void outside, watching the newly emerging image. Her brow twitched slightly. Why was it different from what she had expected?

A voice-over drifted in.

“Hahaha! My Gu clan has produced another monster! He was born with double pupils?!”

Hearing this voice-over, a sense of foreboding rose in the heart of the Pure Heart Art of Love.

The Pure Heart Art had been about to swallow her worry, but she looked up upon hearing this. “...Hmm?”

The voice-over continued: “Clan Leader, please make a decision quickly! Now we can dig out the supreme bone from that little bastard Gu Haiming of the branch family and give it to the Young Master. If he can have dual saintly manifestations in one body, it will truly be heaven's blessing upon our Gu clan—”