Chapter 114: Three Pines (Part 2)
(There is no connection between Three Pines and Five Pines; I haven’t watched basketball in years. Due to much concern, let me explain—my leave the day before yesterday and the day before that wasn’t due to family matters. It was actually… I was sick, a minor illness, a common cold with rhinitis, but it was truly miserable. Taking sick leave often invites accusations of faking it, which irritates me greatly, so I’ve gotten used to taking personal leave. But I’m still suffering now, very uncomfortable, with aches all over, drowsiness, and even my scalp hurts. That’s why I’m writing slowly. I’m explaining this to you.)
As someone revered in the human world and regarded as a deity by the common people, the Eight Winds and Rains were dismissed by Su Li as eight useless fools. Not to mention that from the very beginning, he had called them old bastards. That aside, judging by his tone, it seemed he could kill these strongest figures of the continent at will—how arrogant and proud! Even though he was the legendary Little Master of Li Mountain, everyone present still found it exaggerated, even absurd.
Zhu Luo’s face showed no mocking expression born of absurdity, nor anger. It remained as indifferent as ever. As the sect master of the Absolute Emotion Sect, his Dao heart was cultivated to sever emotions and extinguish desires. These four words did not imply cruelty or tyranny but rather a state like moonlight shining on a snowy plain—solitary, cold, and absolute, unmoved by external perceptions.
He looked at Su Li and said, “You have no chance.”
Indeed, Su Li was about to die. Whether in his prime he could have killed the Eight Winds and Rains, or even threatened the five sages, was irrelevant. He was about to leave this world, and what never happened could only remain a mystery lost in the river of history.
But Su Li didn’t see it that way. He looked at Zhu Luo and said, “Once I recover from my injuries, I’ll go to Hanqiu City first and kill you.”
He said this with extreme casualness and calm, as if he had no idea Zhu Luo had come to kill him, as if Xunyang City wasn’t his burial ground, as if the next moment he would return to Li Mountain.
The long hair draped over Zhu Luo’s shoulders stirred in the breeze, and both his eyebrows twitched slightly, finally revealing a hint of mockery.
“No, it shouldn’t be going to Hanqiu City to kill you… but going to Hanqiu City to kill your entire family.”
Su Li corrected himself. Then he looked at Liang Wangsun, who stood before the crowd, and said, “This time, I must learn from past lessons and not repeat those mistakes.”
“Senior, that’s not right.”
Chen Changsheng, holding the reins, turned back to look at him and said. Yes, killing someone’s entire family was wrong no matter how you looked at it, even if failing to uproot the weeds might lead to a wildfire later.
Traveling south together, Su Li thought he understood this child Chen Changsheng well, but only now did he realize he hadn’t fully grasped him. After a moment of silence, he smiled and said, “Then I won’t kill his whole family, just him.”
This conversation sounded like a joke, and in fact, it was one.
The dying Su Li spoke of killing Zhu Luo’s family in the future—where was his future?
Zhu Luo looked at him with a solemn expression and said, “When you leave this world, can’t you be serious for once?”
Earlier, Bishop Hua Jiefu of Xunyang City had said something similar to Chen Changsheng.
“Facing death calmly is being serious? Then I wouldn’t like that kind of seriousness. Dying on a battlefield, in the mountains, or on a comfortable bed in a beauty’s arms—I’d choose the latter.”
Su Li said, “Speaking of which, I really don’t understand what you old fellows live for… If it’s about interests, I can’t see what you gain from this. Seems like you’re pretty miserable too, since this is Tianliang County… Those old geezers can hide in their caves or cities, but you can’t.”
Zhu Luo was silent for a moment before saying, “Some things always need to be resolved.”
From start to finish, this revered figure of Tianliang County had no intention of appearing in Xunyang City, because even he was unwilling to kill Su Li with his own hands—at least, he didn’t want Su Li’s blood on them.
It wasn’t until Wang Po appeared, his blade splitting the snowy sky and forcing the crowd to retreat, that he had to show himself.
Su Li looked at him mockingly and said, “Have you thought about how to handle the aftermath? Sure, many in the south have wanted me dead for a long time, but I’m still an idol of the Tiannan region. If your hands are stained with my blood, the Zhu family and the Absolute Emotion Sect will have to bear the wrath of the southerners. Are you mentally prepared for that?”
Zhu Luo said nothing. A man like him, with an unshakable Dao heart and a clear understanding of the world, could calculate the situation perfectly. But as he said, since this matter occurred in Tianliang County, he had to be the one to resolve it.
“Living for hundreds of years, and in the end, you’re still being used as a blade.”
Su Li looked at him with sympathy and said, “How did your mother give birth to such an idiot? When your father learns in the underworld that the Zhu family will decline because of your decision today, will he regret having such a fool for a son?”
Sharp and piercing, every word struck the heart—not just because they were insults, but because they were true. Words without fault were like swords. With Su Li’s skill, even if Zhu Luo’s Dao heart was as firm as a rock, it would still leave marks.
Zhu Luo looked at the man on horseback, already so weak he could barely lift his arm, and said, “A great river has two banks. Even if you only watch without speaking, you must still choose a side.”
This referred to Su Li, and it explained why the entire continent wanted him dead.
Over a decade ago, after the bloodbath at the National Academy, the Great Zhou was in turmoil. The Eternal Life Sect and the Liang Prince’s Mansion joined forces, planning a northern expedition, but Su Li refused, even using his sword to thwart this great affair. For over a century, whether it was the Holy Empress Tianhai or His Holiness the Pope, both wanted to unite north and south, but Su Li still refused, standing in Tiannan with his sword, blocking the tide of the world from moving forward.
In these two matters, no matter how Su Li chose, he wouldn’t have fallen into his current peril. Yet he chose neither. His attitude was proud and clear: “If I am a pillar, I should stand in the middle of the river. If I am duckweed, I should drift with the current. I am Su Li—why should I stand on the bank?”
Zhu Luo said no more. “Li Mountain will continue to exist, but without you.”
This was respect, and also a declaration.
On the streets of Xunyang City, silence reigned. The clouds grew heavier, and raindrops began to fall slowly.
“Without me, is Li Mountain still Li Mountain?”
Su Li looked southward expressionlessly, thinking of what might be happening on Li Mountain at that moment, his heart heavy.
This wasn’t an arrogant declaration but a worry.
The entire continent believed Su Li was Li Mountain. He himself didn’t think so. Having joined the Li Mountain Sword Sect as a child, he knew Li Mountain had its own sword spirit. But the truth was that for centuries, he had been the green tree atop Li Mountain, casting shade to protect its disciples. If he were gone, what would become of Li Mountain? Something must be happening there now—what was it? Could the disciples hold on? That was his only concern now.
“In the end, I’m still not as good as Black Robe… in this regard.”
Su Li withdrew his gaze and looked at Zhu Luo. “He may not have killed as many as I have, but his understanding of the dark side of human nature truly surpasses mine. Even in the sacred domain, there is still the mundane world. He knows too well what you so-called guardians of the human world are thinking. But do you truly know what you’re doing?”
Zhu Luo said, “Sometimes, the river of history needs to flow backward to surge forward more powerfully.”
“Expel the external before settling the internal?” Su Li mocked him. “Then why don’t you persuade those in the Chen royal family to stop wanting to be emperor? Or go convince Tianhai to abdicate willingly?”
Zhu Luo was silent for a moment, then recited a passage from the Daoist canon, implying deeper meaning.
“I hate your cryptic, mystical ways the most.”
Su Li had no interest in how much depth or truth that passage contained. “It’s no fun at all.”
“Indeed, no fun.”
Xiao Zhang, who had remained silent all along, shook his head vigorously. The white paper on his face, wet from the rain, made a slapping sound, as if slapping someone. Then he turned, carrying his iron spear, and walked toward the other end of the street.
He had come to Xunyang City to kill Su Li. Now that someone else was here to do it, and Su Li was doomed, what reason did he have to stay? Killing a figure like Su Li, even if he was too injured to fight back, would be interesting—but watching him die was no fun.
Liang Wangsun didn’t leave, nor did the hundreds of cultivators. They stood in the increasingly heavy rain, silently watching the few figures in the street, waiting to see how Su Li would die.
Su Li stroked the wet mane of the horse beneath him and said, “You can go now.”
These six words were, of course, meant for Chen Changsheng and Wang Po. Though he detested the idea of calmly facing death or returning to the sea of stars, he still had to maintain some dignity—after all, he was the Little Master of Li Mountain.
How should a person live their life? Su Li had thought about it many times but never reached a conclusion. Most of the time, he acted on his likes and dislikes. But how a person should die—he had long decided.
Dying at the hands of the Eight Winds and Rains, though far from his imagination, was barely acceptable.
Chen Changsheng held the reins, looking down at the raindrops before his boots, silent.
At this point, doing anything else was meaningless. The world wanted Su Li dead. At the end of the rainy street stood the strongest figures of this world. No matter how fast or powerful his sword was, he couldn’t stop them.
Wang Po also said nothing.
But he began to roll up his sleeves.
His movements were slow, focused, and deliberate.
He rolled the sleeve of his right arm up to his elbow.
This way, when he swung his blade, it might be a fraction faster.
Su Li’s expression tightened.
Earlier, his heart-piercing words had suggested that Zhu Luo and the other Eight Winds and Rains were looking for an excuse to kill a junior like Wang Po, to preserve his own life… Su Li’s hands were too stained with blood; Zhu Luo could find many excuses afterward. But killing Wang Po was different. Without a solid reason, any move against Wang Po could be seen as jealousy of talent, fearing being replaced by a brilliant younger generation, and thus harming the overall interests of humanity.
As long as Wang Po didn’t strike first, under the gaze of hundreds of eyes, Zhu Luo couldn’t do anything to him. In fact, for a time afterward, he and the other Eight Winds and Rains would have to be especially careful about Wang Po’s safety.
But Wang Po showed no sign of stepping aside.
He had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his arm, ready to act.
The rainy street grew even quieter.
Su Li quietly watched Wang Po.
Zhu Luo quietly watched Wang Po.
Wang Po, as if oblivious, began wiping his iron blade with his sleeve, his expression calm and focused, his movements slow and deliberate.
Zhu Luo suddenly laughed, because he was finally truly angry.
No anger could be felt from his smile, but Xunyang City felt it very clearly.
The dark clouds in the sky pressed lower, and the rain instantly became torrential.
Such was the majesty of the sacred domain, like the wrath of heaven.
Then he withdrew his smile, looked at Wang Po with a blank expression, and said one sentence.
“You… are you preparing to strike at me?”