Chapter 2: The Righteous Path and the Demonic Way

"By the way, I have yet to ask your name and identity..."

Zhou Xue's thoughts returned to the present. She looked at Fang Wang, her lips parting gently as she asked in a soft, warm voice.

Immersed in his dreams of cultivation, Fang Wang couldn't help but respond with a touch of resignation, "My name is Fang Wang, and my father is Fang Yin."

To think that the thirteenth son of the Fang family could go unrecognized by his own kin—what a disgrace.

"Fang Wang? I don't recall, but I do remember your father's name. He should be my Fifth Uncle, right?" Zhou Xue mused, which reminded Fang Wang that she was someone reborn, and her memories were no longer those of the present Zhou Xue.

He was about to reply when Zhou Xue said, "I don't remember you, so you must have died on the night the family was slaughtered. After that, only a handful survived from the Fang family. Alas."

Fang Wang felt as if he had just been sentenced to death. But when he thought that everyone he cared about would perish as well, his heart tightened with anxiety.

"Tell me about that night of annihilation. Let's see if there's a way to deal with it," Fang Wang said seriously.

To wipe out the Fang family, it would take either an army storming the city or a martial sect infiltrating the household, and it would have to be a sizable force of experts. After all, many of the Fang family's servants were retired masters of the martial world.

Zhou Xue tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, took a deep breath, and spoke, "Seven nights from now, disaster will befall the Fang household. All the assailants are martial artists—six of them from the imperial capital, the most formidable masters of the Great Qi dynasty. But there is also a cultivator among them. Most of the Fang family perished by his hand. He wields a strange treasure capable of absorbing the souls of the dead."

A cultivator!

Fang Wang's heart sank. Through his practice of swordsmanship, he had come to understand the vast gulf between martial artists and cultivators. Even though he had reached a legendary status in the martial world, facing an unknown cultivator still put immense pressure on him.

"How great is the difference between that cultivator and martial artists?" Fang Wang pressed, his gaze fixed on Zhou Xue.

Zhou Xue sighed. "He is but a low-level figure in the world of cultivators, but in the martial world, he is unparalleled. Even if a hundred top martial masters joined forces, they would not be his match."

"If I master the art of sword control, could I slay him?" Fang Wang asked.

Zhou Xue gave him a strange look. "Depends how far you master it. All cultivators know how to control swords, but someone like him, at the bottom rung, can only barely manage it. Don't even think about it—in seven days, you can't possibly master sword control, let alone to the extent of killing a cultivator."

Fang Wang took her words to heart, but since he had never faced a cultivator, he dared not be careless.

"In these next seven days, I won't regain my means of cultivation. At best, I can concoct some poisons. You're the son of my Fifth Uncle, closer to the head of the family. Try to persuade them—if not to leave the city, then at least to prepare for the worst," Zhou Xue said earnestly.

After calming down, she realized she had been too reckless. She had been so intent on saving the Fang family that she forgot their status and her own identity. As a noble house, the Fang family could not simply flee from the city, and to do so would only increase the danger—without the townsfolk as a buffer, their position would be even more perilous.

Fang Wang nodded, then reminded her, "The matter of rebirth is too outlandish. Don't mention it again. Make up some excuse if you must, and if word of this should reach the ears of cultivators, it would be even more dangerous."

Zhou Xue's expression shifted. She nodded. "You've taught me well. I was too rash. It's my first time facing something like this, and with annihilation looming, I lost my head."

A sudden fear welled up in her, and she looked at Fang Wang differently.

Fang Wang, seeing her look, was startled—could she possibly want to silence him?

After that, the two talked for a while longer, settling on a cover story and a plan of action. Zhou Xue urged, "Go now, Fang Wang. Make preparations. I must do the same."

Fang Wang nodded, rose, and left through the window.

Zhou Xue gazed at the footprints on the windowsill, then sat in a daze on the stool for quite some time.

...

Night fell, and the Fang household was ablaze with light.

"What? Someone plans to slaughter our entire family?"

Fang Yin, with the scholarly air of a learned gentleman, put down his bowl and chopsticks, anger flaring in his voice. Fang Wang's mother, Lady Jiang, was so frightened her face turned pale. There were no servants in the hall; Fang Wang had sent them away before the conversation began.

Fang Wang frowned. "Last month, I heard some wandering swordsmen mention it. I thought it was nonsense. Today I asked Zhou Xue, and she confirmed it. She isn't some reborn soul—she was merely visited by a mysterious master who told her in secret and agitated her. In her panic, she spoke wildly."

Fang Yin snorted, "Naturally I don't believe such tales of rebirth. But why would that master seek her out, and not me, or your four uncles?"

Fang Wang shook his head. "How would I know, Father? But think about it: I heard it, and Zhou Xue also received word. Better to believe it than not—the Fang family cannot afford the risk."

At these words, Fang Yin's expression darkened. After a few moments of contemplation, he slammed the table and stood up. "I'm going to see your grandfather!"

Lady Jiang sighed, helping Fang Wang to more food as she cautioned, "Wang, don't mingle with those river-lake types. It’s too dangerous."

"I understand, Mother. I won't anymore," Fang Wang replied with a smile.

Once this crisis passed, he would pursue immortality. To hell with the martial world—if he was going to venture, it would be into the realm of cultivation.

After dinner, Fang Wang waited in the hall. Fang Yin was gone for a full hour before returning, his expression grave.

Facing his clever and sensible son, Fang Yin did not hide the truth.

"Your grandfather believes it and has ordered strict precautions. These matters no longer concern you. With us here, nothing will happen to the Fang family."

Hearing this, Fang Wang was finally at ease and took his leave.

That night, Fang Wang rarely dreamed. He saw himself soaring through the skies on a sword, a carefree immortal roaming the world. It was exhilarating.

Early the next morning, Fang Wang rose, washed, and instructed his most trusted servant, Li Jiu, "Within six days, I want the sharpest sword you can find—no matter the cost!"

Fang Meng had campaigned with the late emperor, earning great merit in war. Though stripped of military power after the founding of the dynasty, the family gained immense wealth. Thus, even the third-generation scions like Fang Wang were wealthy. With only one son, Fang Yin never denied him gold or jewels.

"Certainly, young master! I will not disappoint you!"

Li Jiu, only two years older than Fang Wang, was delighted and ran off in high spirits.

Seizing the moment when the courtyard was empty, Fang Wang began practicing sword control with a wooden branch. Though he had mastered the technique, he had yet to test it in real combat.

He was not a true cultivator; using martial energy to control the sword consumed a great deal of strength.

The faster the sword, the greater the drain.

After half an hour of practice, he realized he had only one chance—a single strike to kill the cultivator.

At noon, Fang Wang went to visit Zhou Xue, hoping to glean another spell. Even if he could master a cultivation technique in six days, he would not have time to amass spiritual power. It was better to acquire more ways to kill.

However, Zhou Xue had already been released from confinement, and Fang Wang found her absent, so he had to give up.

Over the next five days, Zhou Xue was out from dawn till dusk, and Fang Wang never saw her.

During these days, the number of servants in the Fang household swelled. Fang Wang's eldest uncle even recruited martial artists passing through the city, and disciples from nearby clans were summoned home, especially those from sects near Yanghu County.

The one who drew the most attention was Fang Han Yu, the third son of Fang Zhe, Fang Wang's second uncle.

This ninth young master of the Fang family had been close to Fang Wang in childhood, their ages only two years apart. When Fang Wang was seven, Fang Han Yu was sent to the largest martial sect in Yanghu County. He wrote every year, and last year Fang Yin said he had already reached the level of a top martial artist—a true prodigy.

After so many years, Fang Wang found himself reminiscing about the cousin who had always clung to him as a child. But now was no time for nostalgia.

The sixth day, afternoon.

Zhou Xue came looking for Fang Wang, and he led her into his room, shutting the door behind them.

Today Zhou Xue wore a fitted crimson outfit, looking valiant and heroic. She had removed her usual ornaments and tied her hair back with a red cord, revealing a delicate and beautiful face.

She really was quite stunning, Fang Wang thought, sitting down with her.

Zhou Xue took a sachet from her sleeve. "This is a herbal paralytic powder I concocted. Sprinkle it on your enemy, and if they inhale it, they'll collapse within three breaths. But it only works on martial artists, not on that cultivator. If you meet him, you must flee."

She had a good impression of this first relative to trust her and didn't want him to die recklessly tomorrow night.

Fang Wang took the sachet and asked, "Is the world of cultivation divided between righteous and demonic paths?"

Zhou Xue glanced at him and snorted softly. "Of course. And yes, I am a demonic cultivator. I've slain countless men and monsters alike—are you afraid?"

Fang Wang answered earnestly, "I've often heard the heroes in town say, 'A man in the rivers and lakes is not his own master.' Cultivation transcends the mundane, and must be even more dangerous. Yet you returned after rebirth and still care for the Fang family. That alone makes me unafraid of you. You will always be one of us—my kin."

This...

A demonic cultivator!

Fang Wang's heart quivered. With his reminder, perhaps he would become the only one who knew Zhou Xue's true identity. Would that bring trouble?

Zhou Xue saw his sincerity and smiled, finally studying him. He was handsome, with sword-like brows and bright eyes—no surprise, since his father Fang Yin was the most handsome man in the city.

After a brief pause, Zhou Xue grew serious. "Your martial skills are impressive, but they're only effective against other martial artists. Leave the cultivator to me—you must not act rashly."

She liked Fang Wang, but knew how impetuous young geniuses could be. To have reached such heights at his age, he might, in a moment of impulse, challenge a cultivator.

Fang Wang thought it over and nodded slowly. After all, she had been reborn and surely had her own means.

Having finally glimpsed the path to cultivation, he had no wish to die before he even set foot on it.

The two talked for a long while, with Zhou Xue doing most of the planning and Fang Wang listening. Zhou Xue needed him to relay some of her suggestions, since as an adopted daughter, she had no voice in the household. During this time, Fang Wang tried to ask for cultivation methods, but was sternly refused—she insisted that with the family facing life and death, such things were meaningless.

After Zhou Xue left, Fang Wang went to see his father and relayed her suggestions. Fang Yin was pleased with his son's advice and immediately went to see Fang Meng, the family patriarch.

That night, many in the Fang household found sleep elusive.

Who could remain calm after hearing their family faced annihilation?

Fang Wang was no exception. He circulated his energy in his room, building up his strength to bolster his resolve.