Chapter 182: The Two Divine Detectives
With the return of the Envoy Delegation, waves of discussion began to ripple through the land, growing ever more fervent.
Rumors of Ji You’s sword severing the War King, and of his feat in the Demon Emperor Citadel, where he slew a Demon General in defiance of all odds, spread like wildfire.
To the disciples who preferred the path of seclusion and silent cultivation, Ji You seemed like a storm-stirring figure, a harbinger of chaos. Before even setting foot back in the Nine Provinces, he had already set the winds howling in every direction.
[Why?]
In the past, it was the depth of one’s cultivation that determined their fame. The highest realms belonged to the most renowned. When had there ever been a cultivator whose reputation soared so high while his cultivation lagged behind?
Ji You’s renown had nearly eclipsed even some of the Heaven Resonance Stage Elders who had spent lifetimes in secluded meditation!
Yet, whenever the skeptics recalled the moment when Ji You’s blade cleaved through the War King, when they envisioned his battle against the Demon General, they could do nothing but fall silent.
“The five-year cycle nears its end. With the arrival of spring, the grand Heavenly Dao Assembly will surely be convened,” someone murmured. “If the tale of him slaying the War King proves true, then among the Mystic Enlightenment cultivators of this age, none may stand above Ji You.”
“But before the Assembly begins, will he attempt to step into the Dao Fusion Stage?”
“If he remains in the Mystic Enlightenment Stage, then surely he will claim the title of champion and be sent to the Ancient Sages’ Ascension Grounds.”
“Yet if he dares to break into Dao Fusion, the outcome is uncertain.”
In the Outer Court, as the Winter Solstice festivities continued, wine loosened tongues, and thoughts drifted from Ji You’s exploits in the Demon Clan to the upcoming Heavenly Dao Assembly.
This grand gathering, held once every five years, was the pinnacle event for cultivators across the Azure Cloud World. Even before news of the Envoy Delegation’s return, discussions of the Assembly had begun to surface among the disciples. However, it was Ji You’s deeds that now fueled a storm of speculation.
Upon hearing these words, expressions turned contemplative, each disciple lost in their own musings.
“The Heavenly Dao Assembly…”
“Hard to believe that five years have passed already.”
“If the story of him slaying the War King is true, then his participation is inevitable.”
“I still struggle to believe it. How could someone at his level possibly defeat a War King of the Barbaric Race, whose strength is said to rival the Heaven Resonance Stage (Upper)?”
“Hah, that sounds familiar. When Ji You founded an Esteemed Clan in Feng Prefecture, he slew eighteen Mystic Enlightenment cultivators in a single night and cut down an Immortal Manors cultivator at the Dao Fusion Stage. Back then, I recall hearing the same doubts.”
“This so-called Wandering Rogue Cultivator, how could he reach such heights?”
“And yet, do you still dare to call him a Wandering Rogue Cultivator?”
“You don’t understand. Once, it was an insult. But now… when spoken aloud, it becomes praise. Ever since he entered the Heavenly Script Academy, who else would dare use those words against him?”
As the discussions raged on beneath the cold winter sky, the return of the Envoy Delegation drew closer.
A horse-drawn carriage rumbled out of the Heavenly Script Academy, speeding towards Feng Prefecture. Within the carriage sat a middle-aged man, flanked by two young men and a young woman—three ordinary-looking disciples of the Immortal Sect, indistinguishable from the countless others within the academy.
Only the middle-aged man stood apart. His chest bore an unnatural bulge, as if his cultivation had warped his very form.
The carriage driver was a common mortal, a man who made his living scraping by in the Capital. He understood nothing of the Cultivation of the Immortal Way, but curiosity gnawed at him. What kind of immortal practice caused one’s chest to swell like that?
As dusk fell, the stars and moon gleamed in the wintry heavens. On a quiet forest path outside the Sect Instructor’s courtyard, two disciples chanced upon each other—Liu Jian An, son of the Inspector of Feng Prefecture, and Cong Yi, daughter of the Magistrate of Returning Clouds Prefecture.
Winter Solstice banquets had been plentiful in recent days. As night deepened, the students of the Heavenly Script Academy thinned.
Liu Jian An, having just returned from a banquet, had come bearing gifts for Cao Jin Song, hoping also to seek advice on achieving perfection in the Lower Three Stages. However, upon arriving at the courtyard, he found it empty.
He cast a glance at the desolate courtyard before turning to Cong Yi. “It’s Winter Solstice. I saw many Esteemed Clans from the Capital sending invitations to the courtyard. You should have received the same one as I did. Why didn’t you go?”
Cong Yi smiled gently and shook her head. “I didn’t want to be mere decoration at someone else’s feast. I’d rather enjoy a simple meal of dumplings on my own.”
At that moment, another figure appeared along the path—Xiang Fu, daughter of the Magistrate of Danxia Prefecture. Upon seeing them, she asked, “Is Instructor Cao not here?”
Cong Yi nodded. “No. The doors are locked as well.”
Xiang Fu’s eyes flickered. “If we count the days, the Envoy Delegation that went to the Demon Clan should be returning soon. Instructor Cao must have gone to Feng Prefecture.”
Cong Yi’s eyes widened in realization. “That explains it…”
Liu Jian An hesitated before speaking. “There has been no shortage of discussion in the Outer Court about this. I attended several banquets, and all anyone talks about is Senior Brother Ji.”
Hearing this, Xiang Fu and Cong Yi exchanged glances before gazing towards Feng Prefecture, their emotions complex.
Feng Prefecture lacked any Immortal Sects or Esteemed Clans. Those who cultivated the Celestial Fairy path had been taken in by foreign Immortal Manors, growing up under their care before earning a place in the academy.
The three of them were no exception to this fate.
At the moment they first stepped into the Heavenly Script Academy, their hearts burned with excitement. After all, they had entered an Immortal Sect—something they had long yearned for since childhood. Setting foot past the mountain gates was like grasping a long-cherished dream.
Yet, as days passed and life within the academy unfolded, they came to a stark realization: reality was far different from their imaginings.
Though they hailed from bureaucratic families and had never known hunger or hardship, in this world where immortals reigned supreme, their status was, in truth, insignificant. It was difficult for them to form ties with the true heirs of the Immortal Clans.
The elite Descendants of Esteemed Clans formed tightly woven circles, their bonds shaped by generations of kinship and alliances. Few outsiders could ever breach those gilded enclosures.
Even in shared spaces—the Field of Enlightenment, the Sword Testing Forest, the Immortal Banquet Hall—conversations revolved around their fathers’ cultivation breakthroughs, their elder sisters’ recent ascensions, or the latest spirit treasures obtained by their families. Or perhaps, they discussed intrigues from other Immortal Sects. But for those from Feng Prefecture, there was never an opening to speak.
The children of Feng Prefecture were destined to stand at the periphery, their gazes filled with longing yet tempered with hesitation. They dared not approach, dared not voice their thoughts. What if they misspoke? What if they exposed their ignorance? What if they faltered and became the target of ridicule?
This was precisely why Xiang Fu and Cong Yi rarely attended the social gatherings of the capital’s noble offspring. Women, more sensitive than men, carried a sharper sense of pride. It was humiliating to serve as mere adornments at such feasts, and every time they returned, they were left with an unsettling discomfort.
Indeed, after joining the Heavenly Script Academy, they had lamented their fates more than once. Why had they been born in Feng Prefecture? Why had their forefathers not secured them a legacy of prestige?
They did not expect to be like Fang Jin Cheng, who could summon Disciples of the Inner Court daily to aid his cultivation. But at the very least, they wished for a foothold within those exclusive circles, much like the lesser heirs of Esteemed Clans.
Yet now, at this very moment—when Ji You’s name once more echoed across the academy, when even those privileged circles whispered his name—Xiang Fu and the others suddenly found themselves freed from the shadow of insignificance.
Ji You was no Descendant of an Esteemed Clan, nor even of a bureaucratic lineage. He was the lowest of the low—a Wandering Rogue Cultivator.
His path had been far harsher than theirs.
Disciples of the Outer Court were not entitled to the offerings of the academy. It was said that when Ji You first arrived, he had barely been able to afford a meal.
During his days in the Outer Court, whispers surrounded him: “Wandering Rogue Cultivator,” “Wandering Rogue Cultivator.”
He had even blocked Chu He’s ascension into the Inner Court and was subsequently sent to Qiling Ridge—a mission tantamount to a death sentence. And now, this diplomatic envoy mission to the Snowy Expanse was no different.
Yet he had never sought to force his way into the dazzling circles of the Esteemed Clans. He held no interest in such things. Instead, he carved his own path, sword by sword, until the gates of the Inner Court were forced open before him. And now, his name had become a source of awe and envy among those very circles that once excluded him.
The ones they had once idolized, looked up to, and yearned to join—now found themselves gazing up at his name. Even as they spoke in veiled sarcasm, their jealousy was unmistakable.
A Secret Cultivator who entered the academy, who defeated the thousand-year-old lineage of Chu He, who stepped into the Inner Court, who slew eighteen Mystic Enlightenment cultivators and one Dao Fusion master, establishing his own legacy.
And now, his sword had crossed a thousand li, its radiance illuminating the Snowy Expanse.
Under the night sky, Xiang Fu and Cong Yi parted their lips in stunned silence, only to be startled by Liu Jian An’s voice cutting through the darkness.
“Instructor Cao clearly said I was the best student he had ever taught, even praising me as ‘extraordinary.’ But the moment Senior Brother Ji returned, he ran straight to him.”
“??”
Xiang Fu and Cong Yi exchanged glances before turning toward Liu Jian An in unison. “When did he say that?”
Liu Jian An scratched his head. “He says it every time I bring him gifts. He even called Senior Brother Ji a Wicked Disciple and claimed I was far superior.”
The corners of Xiang Fu and Cong Yi’s mouths twitched. [That’s because you bribe him with gifts, while Senior Brother Ji not only refuses to offer bribes but also keeps a sharp eye on his monthly stipend.]
Yet, thinking about it… a Wicked Disciple he may be, but not just anyone could be a Wicked Disciple.
—
At nearly the same moment, fifteen carriages raced through the frontier beyond the Cold Iron Pass, traveling in a swift, disciplined formation. Through arduous journeying, they were nearing the western edge of the Falling Moon Barrier.
Ji You leaned against the carriage, methodically exercising his arms in silent training.
Their journey had been relatively smooth, encountering no large-scale pursuit from the Barbaric Race. The strongest foe they faced was a Great General, who had been sent flying by a single strike from Yan Chuan.
After all, when they first set out, the Barbaric Race had sought to stop them, fearing they would influence the Demon Emperor’s decision. But now that their mission was complete, there was little incentive to expend an army’s worth of resources chasing down a mere envoy delegation.
Ji You raised his hand slightly, gazing out at the right side of the advancing convoy—toward Cold Iron Pass.
The echoes of battle still roared, siege engines thundering, clashes ringing through the frigid air.
The Northern Garrison had received word of their expected arrival this day. Even now, they launched a counteroffensive against the Barbaric Race, pushing the battlefield ever eastward, carving a path for the envoy delegation’s safe return.
Atop the northern city walls stood a lone scholar clad in coarse robes, gripping a dagger worth but five silver coins. His expression was one of neither joy nor sorrow, his gaze fixed upon the distant horizon. Then, as he caught sight of the approaching convoy, he froze for a long moment.
And then, suddenly, he turned and sprinted down the wall, his voice trembling with emotion—
“Brother Ji…”
“Brother Kuang, I have returned alive. Alas, the dagger you purchased has gone unused.”
Ji You stepped down from the carriage, his form dust-laden from the long journey. His eyes, however, remained bright as stars. Though his arms hung limp at his sides, his posture was as proud as a sword unsheathed. He stood with unwavering dignity, his gaze meeting that of Kuang Cheng.
A scholar, unskilled in even the art of butchering chickens. A Mystic Enlightenment cultivator, too weak to even support a wounded bird. Their eyes met, then turned toward the barren lands beyond Falling Moon Barrier, the desolate earth of Feng Prefecture stretching beneath the heavens.
“It is held.”
“Held… but only for now.”
“That is still holding.”
As they spoke, a detachment of the Northern Garrison dismounted, their steps steady and their eyes filled with reverence. They saluted deeply toward the gathered officials—Wang Ming Chang, Yu Shu Heng, Lu Ming, and the others. Were the demon and barbarian tribes to launch a joint assault upon the garrison, these men would be the first to perish. Yet, unexpectedly, none among the aged ministers spoke. Instead, they turned in unison, raising their hands, and bowed toward Ji You just as the soldiers had done.
Even the Heaven’s Chosen of the Immortal Sect, newly disembarked from their carriages, bore silent witness to this scene. Their perilous diplomatic mission to the Demon Clan had been fraught with danger, yet the goals they pursued varied—some sought to secure the title of Direct Disciple, others coveted spirit treasures and Celestial Elixirs, and still others sought glory for their clans. Only this man before them had risked his life for the sake of the impoverished lands stretching behind him.
Thus, when Ji You stood tall and merely uttered, “It is held,” in a voice neither loud nor jubilant, it resounded like steel striking stone, firm and resolute. His spine, unbowed, spoke more eloquently than a thousand proclamations.
The Immortal Way was elusive, a pursuit that many spent lifetimes chasing yet never grasping. Cultivators of the Immortal Way all sought ascension, for that was the path laid before them. Yet, as they beheld this moment, they found themselves wondering: perhaps Ji You’s chosen path burned brighter than their own.
“The former Sect Master once said that swords and young men are a perfect match.”
“Now, looking upon this… it seems he spoke true.”
Beyond the Frontier, the war raged on. Sand and dust danced wildly, veiling the noonday sun in an eerie haze. It was no place for rest. Thus, the Envoy Delegation set their course for the governor’s residence in Feng Prefecture.
Throughout their journey, they found Immortal cultivators from distant manors seated within Tea Pavilions and taverns, watching them from above, their lips parted as if to speak yet voicing nothing. When word first spread that Ji You had been sent to the Demon Clan, the foreign Immortal Manors had rejoiced.
To the Esteemed Clans, Ji You was an unruly upstart, one who acted without restraint, ignorant of the rules that bound their world. A lesson had to be taught, whether through injury or death.
But to these foreign Immortal Manors, Ji You’s downfall was a matter of concrete gain. If he perished in the Savage Wilds or met his end in the Snowy Expanse, then the taxation debate would revert to its prior state, and no other cultivator from Feng Prefecture would ever step into the Inner Court of an Immortal Sect again.
Yet, as the delegation ventured forth, the borderlands of You Prefecture became restless, as though a great storm loomed upon the horizon. Boundless Martial Stage cultivators had appeared. Even those of the Spirit Wandering Realm had surfaced. Only then did they realize—someone had been guarding You Prefecture all along. If Cold Iron Pass fell, the savage tribes and the demon horde would surge forth, bringing devastation. You Prefecture would stand as a bulwark, straining under the tide, perhaps even facing the cataclysm of mountains sundered and seas overturned.
By contrast, impoverished Feng Prefecture had never been fortified. It would no longer serve as a buffer but as the next battlefield.
Only when they grasped this truth did they turn their gaze back once more, realizing, to their astonishment, that Feng Prefecture had been guarded as well. And the one who held the line… was merely a Mystic Enlightenment cultivator.
Yet, regardless of his realm, he had stood his ground.
Among these foreign Immortal cultivators, many were castoffs from Esteemed Clans, overlooked and left to wander. Some had fled from suffocating family pressures, seeking solace in exile. In that fleeting moment, they felt an unexpected kinship with Feng Prefecture itself.
Thus, as Ji You returned alive, their emotions were complicated. Words eluded them.
Seated beside him, Kuang Cheng observed the stares from outside and could not help but murmur, “I thought they would be pleased to see you die Beyond the Frontier.”
Ji You shifted slightly. “That would have been simpler. My heart would have been unburdened.”
“Brother Ji, why do you always carry the air of a man ready to die?”
“Ah, don’t say that. When I was gravely injured Beyond the Frontier, they kept hanging Gold Ingots from the ceiling to keep me from passing on. Otherwise, I would have long since departed.”
Ji You suddenly turned toward another figure seated in the carriage and realized he had yet to introduce him. “Ah, this is Gong Shu Chou, Disciple of Spirit Sword Mountain. I stabbed him once before, nearly killing him. Now, we are bound by life and death.”
Kuang Cheng’s mind briefly faltered. “…?”
“I don’t fully understand it myself. But that’s how it is.”
“Truly mysterious. But regardless, well met, Brother Gong Shu.”
Gong Shu Chou cupped his hands in return. “Well met, Young Master Kuang.”
With greetings exchanged, Kuang Cheng wasted no time in inquiring about their perilous journey. As an official of the Immortal Overseer Office, he had long since reviewed their official reports. But still, there were details that could not be captured in mere parchment. Ji You selected a few harrowing tales to recount—the desperate flight under the relentless pursuit of twelve War Kings, the night raid of the Scaled Fang Clans following their first audience.
Kuang Cheng’s breath caught. “To think the journey was so treacherous…”
“The time we were hunted by the Twelve War Kings was not as dire. At the very least, we knew they were coming for us and had prepared in advance. But the ambush by the Jade Garden that night… it was truly unexpected.”
Gong Shu Chou nodded solemnly. “Indeed, the night at Jade Garden was far more perilous. When we were in the Savage Wilds, we could still flee. But in the Demon Emperor Citadel, there was no escape—only battle. And that Demon General… they say his natural strength is unparalleled. With just his bare hands, he left Ji You covered in sword wounds.”
Kuang Cheng’s mouth fell open. He turned to Ji You. “Bare hands? Ah, I see now… congratulations, Brother Ji, on acquiring two treasured swords.”
Ji You lifted his gaze and stared at him in silence. After a long pause, he finally said, “Damn, you really do have a keen eye.”
Gong Shu Chou: “?”
Kuang Cheng waved his sleeves. “Well, as long as we made it through safely, all is well. Though you do seem thinner.”
“Perhaps the food of the Snowy Expanse did not suit my palate,” Ji You mused. “That land is indeed barren—it’s no wonder they long for the Nine Provinces. But in the end, we secured temporary peace for Feng Prefecture. That alone makes it worthwhile.”
“And we also gained two short swords.”
Gong Shu Chou: “?”
Ji You waved a hand dismissively. “Let’s not speak of that anymore. Besides, our gains were not limited to weaponry. I have also fulfilled an important duty—I have confirmed with my own eyes that the Demon Clan women do, in fact, have tails. This revelation fills a gap left unrecorded in the annals of the Human Race.”
Before their journey, Ji You and Kuang Cheng had discussed this very topic. Kuang Cheng had scoured the records of the Demon Clan within the Immortal Overseer Office, yet not a single mention of such a feature was found. Thus, they had made a pact—Ji You would uncover the truth. Now, he had delivered.
And in doing so, Ji You’s mind drifted to that particular Demon Princess.
Princess Feng Yang was a fine person, though undeniably cold. Unlike his little Mirror Master, who feigned indifference but hid a softer heart beneath, Feng Yang was truly distant. Ji You had thought that after witnessing her tail, they might at least be considered friends. Yet when he left, she did not even bid him farewell—a frigid indifference that left him sighing.
Kuang Cheng, however, seemed fixated on a different aspect. At the mention of “seeing with his own eyes” and “indeed possessing a tail,” his expression turned strange.
After some deliberation, he lowered his voice and asked, “Brother Ji… you weren’t beaten?”
Ji You blinked. “I am a keen scholar, eager to learn and unashamed to ask questions. Why would I be beaten for that?”
“That arm of yours… didn’t they break it?” Kuang Cheng pointed at Ji You’s motionless arm, his face grave. “Don’t try to fool me.”
“That?” Ji You scoffed. “That was the doing of the Barbaric Race. When their War King tore through the defenses of an Immortal Sect Elder, I had no choice but to withstand two of his punches. That was some time ago.”
Kuang Cheng pondered this deeply. “That makes no sense…”
Ji You frowned. “Why do you seem so convinced that I should have been beaten?”
“No, no reason. It’s fine as long as you’re safe. That’s what matters most.”
“???”
The carriage rumbled forward, continuing westward.
During the journey, Ji You stepped out to relieve himself. Seizing this moment, Gong Shu Chou turned to Kuang Cheng. “Why do you keep insisting he should have been beaten?”
Kuang Cheng sighed. “Ever since Brother Ji left, I stayed behind, restless with worry for his safety. So, I delved deeper into the Demon Clan’s historical records. I found several accounts regarding Demon Clan women, and ever since, I feared that Ji You might suffer a dreadful fate in the Snowy Expanse.”
He hesitated before continuing, “Because while Demon Clan women do have tails, they are as private and sacred as their chests, hips, and feet. In their culture, a tail is only shown to their Husband.”
At these words, Gong Shu Chou held his breath.
Kuang Cheng continued solemnly, “Brother Ji is truly Brother Ji. Even on a diplomatic mission to the Demon Clan, he did not idle. But tell me, exactly whose tail did he see… and why did he escape unscathed?”
“This…”
Gong Shu Chou suddenly stiffened. He considered the severity of the matter.
Since entering the Snowy Expanse, he and Ji You had been inseparable. Ji You’s injuries had hindered his movements, and Gong Shu Chou had made sure to accompany him at all times, lest he encounter danger alone.
He was certain of one thing—the two of them had once ventured into the city in search of answers, but they had left with nothing. After that, the atmosphere in the Demon Emperor Citadel had grown tense, leaving them with no further opportunities to wander the streets.
There was simply no chance for Ji You…
A realization struck him.
Gong Shu Chou’s lips parted, his gaze trembling. “I see now. It must have been… the Demon Princess’s.”
Kuang Cheng’s eyes widened slowly, then fell into an even longer silence. After a long pause, he finally murmured, “I always said it… Brother Ji will conquer the world with his body alone.”
“???”
Just then, Ji You climbed back into the carriage, frowning at them. “What are you two whispering about?”
Kuang Cheng hurriedly dismissed it. “Nothing, nothing at all.” Then he turned to Gong Shu Chou. “Everything I said before was just speculation. Brother Gong Shu, best keep this to yourself. We cannot let word of this spread.”
Gong Shu Chou was silent for a moment, then narrowed his eyes without a word.
Ji You had no idea that two Divine Detectives sat within his own carriage, piecing together his secrets. He furrowed his brows, unable to make sense of their conversation. He only caught fragments about the Demon Princess.
[So much for friendship.]
[Such cold indifference is truly lamentable.]
[Perhaps… I simply thought too highly of myself.]
(This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation)