Chapter 36: Trapped
Xu Yourong answered very quickly, as if she hadn’t needed to think at all.
But Shang Xingzhou and Wang Po knew it was because she had already considered this question too many times and no longer needed to.
Wang Po looked at the dust and smoke drawing closer outside the Mausoleum of Books, and sighed.
Shang Xingzhou gazed at her and said, “Why should I agree to your request?”
Xu Yourong replied, “‘Request’ is just a polite term, because I must respect that you are Chen Changsheng’s master. In truth, this is my demand of you.”
‘Request’ and ‘demand’ differ by only one word, yet they represent vastly different wills.
There was no one left in the world who dared to be so tough with Shang Xingzhou.
“Why?”
“Because you want to march north, to annihilate the demon race, to unite the human world under one rule.”
They were both among the wisest in the world; no lengthy explanations were needed. Between simple questions and answers lay the truth deep within their hearts.
Looking at the formation outside the Mausoleum of Books, if this war truly began, no matter who ultimately won or lost, both sides would inevitably suffer heavy casualties. The ensuing aftershocks would drag on for years, the union of north and south would once again become a fantasy, humanity would be mired in internal strife, and for decades, there would be no chance to defeat the demon race and unify the continent.
In a few decades, Shang Xingzhou would inevitably die.
He would not allow such a thing to happen.
“I never liked Tianhai, nor did I like Su Li, because no matter how far they could see, in the end, they were only willing to look at their own position.”
Shang Xingzhou looked at Xu Yourong calmly and said, “I never expected the Holy Maiden to be the same kind of person.”
Xu Yourong’s expression remained unchanged. “If you can’t even stand firm where you are, what meaning is there in looking far ahead?”
Shang Xingzhou said, “If you don’t look far, it’s easy to overestimate yourself. Do you think you alone can throw the world into chaos?”
Xu Yourong replied, “When people have too many thoughts, their minds easily become disordered. When minds are disordered, how can the world not fall into chaos?”
This remark referred to the Prince of Xiang and the Prince of Chenliu, to the divine generals taught by Chen Guansong, to the ministers in the court and the elders in the Bureau of Ecclesiastic Affairs, to everyone living in this world who held their own views and ambitions—including Shang Xingzhou and herself.
“As long as I am here, the world cannot fall into chaos.”
Shang Xingzhou’s expression was very calm, yet it carried a confidence that could move anyone.
Xu Yourong said quietly, “Everyone dies eventually. You are no exception.”
Shang Xingzhou looked at the disciples of the Southern Stream Sect and Wang Po, and said, “Do you think you can kill me today?”
Xu Yourong said, “At first, I thought I could kill you, because I knew your injury had never healed.”
Shang Xingzhou’s eyes grew deep. He had not expected her to perceive this.
Back then at the Mausoleum of Books, the Heavenly Sea Saintess had used her body, soul, and Dao to confront three peerless experts, unleashing a battle that shook the heavens.
Xu Yourong had not witnessed that battle firsthand, but in the three years since, she had performed many deductions and reconstructions.
She discovered that on that night, His Holiness the Pope had not used his full strength, and she confirmed that the Saintess’s most powerful attacks had mostly landed in Luoyang City.
Shang Xingzhou’s injury had been sustained then, and it had recurred in White Emperor City.
But from the Heavenly Sea Saintess’s choices that night, it was clear that she still regarded Shang Xingzhou as the greatest threat.
Xu Yourong would not doubt the Heavenly Sea Saintess’s judgment.
She began to re-evaluate her original plan and made a very important adjustment.
“You are even stronger than the world imagines. It is indeed very difficult for me to kill you.”
Xu Yourong looked at Shang Xingzhou and smiled slightly. “But I can trap you.”
The wind suddenly arrived, sweeping away the dust on the divine path.
Two wings of pure white, over ten zhang long, unfurled behind her.
Hundreds of small white flowers bloomed again across the mountain wilderness. The disciples of the Southern Stream Sect emerged from the forests and gathered before the divine path.
Throughout the entire process, their positions and connections with each other showed no confusion; they were extremely tight, leaving no gaps to exploit.
If someone were to look down from the top of the Mausoleum of Books, they might be reminded of a shattered vase reassembling itself in reverse time.
I can trap you.
These words sounded ordinary, but they were far from simple.
Because trapping a peerless expert is not necessarily easier than killing him.
Shang Xingzhou’s Dao arts were exquisite; riding the wind, he could travel a hundred li. Even within the restricted Mausoleum of Books, he moved without hindrance.
Even the Heavenly Sea Saintess in her prime could not have said such a thing to Shang Xingzhou.
In the entire world, only the Holy Maiden Peak had such confidence, because they possessed the Southern Stream Sect’s sword formation.
In the days of Zhou Dufu’s peak power, he too had been trapped for a moment by the Southern Stream Sect’s sword formation.
If Xu Yourong only wanted to trap Shang Xingzhou in the formation for a period of time, she should be able to do so.
The question was: what was her true purpose in keeping him here?
Shang Xingzhou had come because of Wang Po.
If he was trapped by the Southern Stream Sect’s sword formation, then Wang Po could naturally leave.
Where would Wang Po go?
Shang Xingzhou’s gaze fell on Wang Po.
Wang Po said, “My task was to lure you here.”
Shang Xingzhou said, “Can you leave?”
Wang Po looked toward the end of the divine path and said, “The Mausoleum of Books will always be here. If I want to come, I can at any time.”
Shang Xingzhou’s eyes turned slightly cold. “Do you think you can leave?”
These two very similar sentences actually expressed different meanings.
The first spoke of intention, the second of ability.
Hearing Shang Xingzhou’s words, Wang Po raised an eyebrow.
His brows and eyes were set close together, like a vast plain where the low sky met the earth.
As he raised his eyebrow, a tree suddenly appeared between the sky and the plain, its trunk extremely straight.
“I am unwilling to bully the few with the many, which is why I will leave. Otherwise, you can try to keep me here.”
With these words, his hand left the hilt of his blade, and he prepared to depart.
Xu Yourong said to him, “Thank you.”
Wang Po recalled his final conversation with Xun Mei outside the Mausoleum of Books that year, and shook his head.
Following the path he had come, passing through the forest, glancing at the small hut behind the fence, he walked toward the exit of the Mausoleum of Books.
Hidden within the forests and buildings were countless military experts, assassins from the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion, and those green-robed Daoists from Changchun Temple.
His hand never again grasped the blade’s hilt, because these people were not worthy of making him draw his sword, and those people lacked the courage to show themselves.
At the heavy stone gate of the Mausoleum of Books, he stopped.
The various princes of the Chen family, their generals, and a dense mass of cavalry stood opposite him.
A bishop walked up to him and whispered a few words. Wang Po shook his head.
The bishop hesitated, but ultimately dared not defy his will, and ordered the national religion cavalry blocking the Mausoleum of Books to withdraw along the riverbank.
Watching this scene, the crowd opposite stirred slightly, then quickly fell silent, because they all recognized who this seemingly shabby scholar was.
Before the Mausoleum of Books, it was deathly silent. The atmosphere grew more and more oppressive, more and more tense. Even the descent of the flying carriage brought no change.
The Prince of Xiang was helped out of the carriage by his two younger brothers. Feeling drowsy, he rubbed his eyes before he saw Wang Po standing there.
Startled, he asked, “What is the meaning of this?”