Chapter 81 - A Sword to the Tang Code

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nTranslator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

nWithin Changan City, a mid-sized inn stood in the middle of a quiet alley. The crowd was rather sparse on that alley.

nHowever, the inn’s business was booming—it was famous for the plum wine they served.

nAt that moment, there were two silhouettes seated in the inn. They faced each other in the window seat, admiring the yellow blossoms in the autumn rain. The table before them had peanuts and marinated chicken feet.

nThe duo ate and drank merrily.

nCui Cheng ordered the plum wine for Lu Taixuan. Lu Taixuan took a sip and groaned.

n“This old inn’s plum wine is the best. Old Cui, when was the last time we drank together? Sixteen years ago?”

nLu Taixuan’s eyes were squinty as he spoke through a mild haze of inebriation.

nCui Cheng picked up a peanut with his chopsticks and ate it with a smile. “Back then, Wen Ting was still the Scholarly Sword Master who took Changan by storm, Martial Arts King Jiang had yet to marry Lady Pei. Changan’s waters were less murky then.”

nLu Taixuan’s eyes were cloudy as he reminisced. Unfortunately, at his cultivation state, it was difficult to achieve a state of total intoxication.

nCui Cheng lowered his wine cup and said, “Let’s not talk about the past. I hear the third prince personally left the palace and set course for Qiuling Demon Portal’s hunting grounds.”

n“The third prince is a rambunctious man whose actions are often impulsive and erratic. It is his nature and the simplicity makes him predictable. The eldest prince is an overthinker and his thoughts can’t be deciphered.

n“The second prince… Well, I won’t say anything. The fourth prince died young. And then there’s the last princess who thinks the whole world is out to get her…

n“The Emperor wants to cultivate an heir who can shake the heavens and earth. Among the three princes, the eldest prince is the best choice but the third prince does have a sizable following,” Lu Taixuan said with a smile.

nUnder the inn’s shelter, the two elders discussed the young men and women of royal blood.

nHeadmaster Cui said lightly, “There’s no need to drag an innocent boy into the feud between the third prince and the Jiang family.”

nLu Taixuan swirled his wine cup and stared out into the autumn rain. “The boy has shown outstanding promise… Otherwise, he would never have been dragged into the storm.

n“The boy threatens Li Yuanzhen’s place as this year’s grand champion. Naturally, the third prince would interfere. The grand champion is not merely an honorary title, you know this well, Old Cui.”

nThe weary lines on Cui Cheng’s face deepened. There were things he wished to say but he remained silent.

nSilence filled their corner.

nAs they sipped their wine, the rain doubled its efforts outside.

n…

nOutside Qiuling Demon Portal, among the black clouds, Chao Xiaojian stood with his hands folded at his back—white robe, white hair and white beard swaying in the wind. An ordinary three-foot-long sword hovered beside him.

nThe winds and rain parted before him.

nLike everyone, he was shocked when he found out the third prince and Nan Yehuo had paid a personal visit to Qiuling Demon Portal. The third prince’s impulsiveness outranked his own?

nMore importantly, Chao Xiaojian was surprised to learn the old Nan Yehuo had left his mountain for a child who had not even realize his sword intent.

nAll because Fang Lang managed to draw the Blooming Lotus Sword left behind by their reverent sect leader?

nHow deep was the psychological scar left by the sect leader?

nFrankly, Chao Xiaojian had much admiration for Fang Lang.

nThe boy’s passion for sword mastery was out of this world.

nFinally, his hard work and dedication paid off. After a core mutation, Fang Lang held a commendable purple core.

nCalluses lined the boy’s hands, proof of his diligent sword training. Why would Chao Xiaojian not admire such a disciple of the sword?

nDespite his feelings, Chao Xiaojian could not reach Qiuling Demon Portal at that moment.

nBefore him, two figures stood in silence. Beneath their feet, gray clouds gathered and rain poured down in buckets.

nFrustration clawed at Chao Xiaojian but he let out a lazy drawl.

n“The headmaster of Changan Academy and the principal of the Imperial Academy… Men of the eldest prince and the second prince, respectively… I see the princes want an all-out war to break out between the third prince and the Jiang family.”

nChao Xiaojian’s white robes fluttered, revealing his torso and abdomen. He toyed with the sword in hand and said with a sigh, “You dare stand in my way. Your identities mean nothing to my sword.”

nHe had a feeling there would be resistance but the involvement of the eldest prince and the second prince took him by surprise.

nThe waters of Changan City were murky beyond salvation.

nThe Sword Guild was so much better. With his senior gone, Chao Xiaojian was the boss there!

nIf only Fang Lang had joined the Sword Guild, all this could have been avoided.

nChao Xiaojian grinned at the two men—his love for theater never waned.

nThe two men overlapped their palms and made the scene twist. The sky and earth were bending under the area’s spell, trapping Chao Xiaojian within.

nChao Xiaojian smiled.

nHe lifted his hand and flicked the sword before him.

nAt that moment, the blade ray rippled within the spell area.

n…

nThe power of bloodlines should not be underestimated in the Tang Dynasty.

nThe ancestors of the rare bloodlines had taken a leap to alter their own blood in order to grant the next generation immense power.

nIn the Tang Dynasty, the most powerful bloodline was none other than the Tang Dynasty’s royal family.

nLi Liangcheng was the Emperor’s third son. He had pure royal blood in his veins and he was proud of it. The man was fearless and impulsive, and his behavior was permitted solely because of his royal bloodline.

nHowever, at that moment, Li Liancheng’s prized bloodline was failing him.

nHe was able to pressure Wen Ting but not the green-robed teen.

nHis aura also had no effect on the elegant mirage summoned from the Blooming Lotus Sword.

nThe figure who captivated the eldest prince and frightened the second prince—Xuanyuan Taihua!

nThe name slipped from Li Liancheng’s teeth.

nWhoosh!

nBlood splattered everywhere.

nNan Yehuo gritted his teeth as his arm was cut down. It was a clean cut and blood flowed without any signs of stopping.

nNan Yehuo was like a leaf swept away by the sword intent of the Blooming Lotus Sword.

nDid that woman store her spiritual sense inside the sword?!

nFang Lang was able to trigger the spiritual sense?!

nDarkness crept into Nan Yehuo’s heart.

nHe was a ninth-class, yet he could not summon the guts to face the spiritual sense.

nHad he fallen behind?

nDid she surpass the ninth class?

nNan Yehuo glared at the blurry figure—the energy she exuded was faint but Nan Yehuo found himself unable to raise his sword in her presence. Then, a frightening aura spread through his body like a drop of ink in water.

nHum.

nThe energy in Nan Yehuo exploded. The fallen arm hit the ground and disturbed the soil.

nThe fiery red sword levitated and charged forward like a flaming serpent.

nIt twisted and turned in the air, snapping its jaws at Xuanyuan Taihua.

nThe slender figure gently waved her sword. Beneath the horse carriage, the rain puddles formed a lotus flower that bloomed.

nNan Yehuo’s other arm held his sword and blocked the intense sword intent’s attack. His muscles trembled with the effort.

nHe was flung faraway by the huge force that struck the carriage.

nGouges were formed in the mud as the blade energy of the lotus flower tore a path.

nAt the end of the path was the one-armed Nan Yehuo who held his sword. The red robe he wore was filled with cuts from the blade energy.

nOnly the third prince and the dashing figure were left on the horse carriage.

nLi Liancheng’s flowy white robe tugged at his body. His gold-tinted hair was disheveled in the wind.

nThe golden eyes exuded an aura of nobility. He stared at the white silhouette and the Blooming Lotus Sword.

nIn all honesty, behind those golden eyes was barely concealed fear.

nIt was the first time he had felt such intense pressure from a person who was not the Emperor.

n“All belong to the Emperor! The Tang Dynasty is ruled by the Li family!

n“The empire submits to the Tang Code! Every spiritual sense and soul must abide by the Tang Code.

n“By law, any who spill royal blood will be persecuted without mercy! It is inescapable!”

nThe third prince stood before the white-robed figure’s imposing presence atop the horse carriage.

nThe royal blood in his veins allowed him to withstand the spiritual sense of the Tang Dynasty’s First Sword.

n“You dare kill me?”

nThe third prince knew the figure before him was the remnant of a spiritual sense and not the actual person.

nRegardless, his golden eyes flashed with a glint of brash theatrics.

nLi Liancheng carried on with his thuggish behavior, ignoring the fact that the Tang Dynasty’s First Sword was able to give off an aura as imposing as his father.

nHe was willing to bet she would not make a move.

nBelow the horse carriage, 30 meters away, Wen Ting was breathing heavily. Flashes of pain crossed his eyes.

nThe royal blood’s imposing pressure…

nThe veins on Wen Ting’s sword hand were distended as he gritted his teeth.

nThe curve of his sword was like his once-crooked spine.

nJust as the third prince had said, ‘All belong to the Emperor.’

nWen Ting’s blade feared the royal’s blood. Spilling royal blood would mean breaking the Tang Code that governed the empire, summoning the wrath of the otherwise peaceful sky.

nWhatever gods, masters or immortals would be squashed!

nTen years ago, Wen Ting’s back was bent by the eldest prince, Li Tianlin. Wen Ting had spent ten years coming to terms with the past—would the third prince make him relive his punishment?

nA battle of wills took place in his mind.

nHe was helpless and at a loss.

nSuddenly, the green-robed teen beside him took a step forward, making a splash in the rain puddle. Fang Lang drew the Obsidian Sword.

nThe immense pressure from the third prince did not seem to affect the teen.

nWhen the teen heard the third prince’s words, he grinned. After a few tentative steps, Fang Lang picked up speed.

nThe murky rainwater rose into a wave.

nThe teen swung his ink-black sword as he ran into the storm.

nThe image of a sword-handling teen reflected in Wen Ting’s eyes.

nIn a flash, the teen’s landing kicked up the puddles on the ground.

nWith a twist of his body, he leaped forward. He was aiming for the horse carriage that ferried the most revered bloodline in the Tang Dynasty—he was going for the third prince Li Liancheng.

nThe Obsidian Sword acted as a high jump pole—the darkness it exuded was icy cool.

n“Stop!” Wen Ting shouted as his pupils constricted.

nThe teen did not hear or he feigned deafness.

nIf blood was spilled, the laws of the Tang Dynasty would descend upon Fang Lang. A bullseye would be drawn on Fang Lang’s back.

nHe would be branded a criminal and sentenced to eternal damnation!

nThe heavy hand of the Tang Code would break the second-class Fang Lang’s spiritual sense and grind his soul into dust.

nWen Ting’s shout was quickly masked by the rumbling storm.

nHe watched as Fang Lang jumped onto the horse carriage. The boy’s eyes were firmly locked onto the pair of royal golden eyes.

nThe imposing aura of the third prince would crush Fang Lang’s spine!

nFang Lang tightened his grip on the Obsidian Sword. A light flickered across the blade like a blaze igniting the grass plains.

n“The Tang Code applies to all spiritual senses and souls? Well, I’m not afraid!

n“She can’t but I will!”

n‘If you want me killed, why can’t I kill you too?’ thought Fang Lang.

n‘Just because you’re royalty? The Tang Code and laws can go f*ck themselves!’

nFang Lang struck out his blade, like a sword to the Tang Code.

nClank!

nA golden shield appeared before Li Liancheng—it was the bloodline’s defense ability.

nFang Lang was not deterred. He continued his relentless attack, causing ripples to form across the shield.

nBehind the shield, Li Liancheng watched the boy’s struggle with mockery in his eyes.

nSoon, the mockery died down.

nA sigh echoed through the area. “Little one, why the trouble?”

nAs soon as the words ceased, Xuanyuan Taihua’s white mirage waved the Blooming Lotus Sword. A lotus bud appeared in the air, awaiting for its cue to bloom.

nTaihua’s Lotus Blade!

nThe technique tore apart certain connections.

nLi Liancheng’s eyes narrowed.

nSuddenly, the third prince’s body shuddered. His face paled and the gold tint in his eyes faded.

nXuanyuan Taihua’s silhouette disappeared in the form of a white light after dispelling the third prince’s bloodline ability.

nThe Blooming Lotus Sword clattered onto the horse carriage.

nFang Lang made another thrust.

nCrack!

nThe golden shield shattered!

nGolden rays shot out as the shield fell to pieces like a broken mirror.

nThen…

nFang Lang headbutted the dumbfounded Li Liancheng whose bloodline connection was severed.

nThe ink-black sword found its way to Li Liancheng’s chest.

nA small rune appeared, protecting the third prince’s heart.

nIt was difficult to untangle, as it should be.

nFang Lang was expressionless as he switched targets—the sword came down on Li Liancheng’s abdomen.

n‘The runes can’t protect all of you!

n‘Even if I can’t kill you, I’ll make sure to scar you!

n‘Never bled before, right?’

nThe Obsidian Sword was thrust forward and pulled back.

nOne strike.

nTwo strikes.

nThree strikes.

nEach stab found flesh.

nGolden liquid splattered onto Fang Lang’s green robe, decorating him with unusual golden flowers.

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