Volume One: City Under the Clouds Chapter 34: The Sword Saint Appears

Zhang Heng staggered unsteadily before the crowd. Dressed in flowing white robes, he cut the figure of a noble young master; his face was not especially handsome, yet its sharp lines and proud bearing exuded an air of fearlessness, even when faced with the scorn of a thousand. Were it not for his meager strength—merely at the first stage of body refinement—others might have mistaken him for some unparalleled prodigy.

When the outcry finally died down, Zhang Heng fixed the crowd with an indifferent gaze. Extending a single hand to point at them, he spoke with a playful tone, “You wish to leave? Very well—each of you must pay a top-grade spirit stone. Pay, and you may leave at once. Refuse, and you’ll remain to labor for the Zhang family.”

Qian Muyun belonged to the Exquisite Sanctuary and would not trouble them, but since these people had come to oppress the Zhangs, they would have to pay a price. At his words, the crowd erupted in fury.

“Who do you think you are, boy?”
“You dare insult us?”
“If not for the Saintess’s presence, I’d have slaughtered you for your insolence!”

These were all formidable figures. With the opening of the Dragon Burial Abyss imminent, this small city had drawn many cultivators of the Heavenly Origin and even Nascent Soul realms. On ordinary days, a mere Return to Ruins cultivator would be a mighty protector. Their submission to Qian Muyun and the Saintess came only from overwhelming strength and lofty status. As for Zhang Heng—a mere ant at the first stage of body refinement, someone they’d usually ignore—how dare he presume to command them? It was nothing short of a blatant insult.

Now that they knew the two women were from the Exquisite Sanctuary, most of their misgivings had faded. They intended to leave, certain the Saintess would not hinder them. As for Zhang Heng, they wished nothing more than to cut him down on the spot—how could they heed his demands?

All ignored Zhang Heng, turning instead to Murong Qingxue. “Saintess, if there is nothing else, we will take our leave,” they said, bowing, and began to depart.

Zhang Heng felt a wave of awkwardness at being so completely disregarded. But this was his first attempt at posturing—if he simply let them go, he’d lose all face. How could he hold his head high in the future?

Feigning outrage, Zhang Heng cried out, “Wait a moment! You villains! You oppressed my Zhang family over groundless rumors, injured my grandfather, drove my uncle to the brink of suicide, slaughtered my family’s loyal retainers, and forced our women and children from their homes. Were it not for the Saintess’s timely arrival, the Zhangs might have been wiped out!”

The more he spoke, the more his anger grew; two tears rolled from the corners of his eyes.

“Is my Zhang family doomed to be bullied, just because we are weak? If I let you leave without consequence, where is justice, where is righteousness?”

“I, Zhang Heng, am but a lowly cultivator at the first stage of body refinement—powerless, unable to do much. Yet since the dawn of the Immortal Continent, righteousness has endured. In this vast world, there will always be someone to punish you!”

His impassioned words moved not only the Zhang family, but even himself; surely someone would respond.

Ignoring the dumbfounded crowd, Zhang Heng turned and bowed deeply toward the distant sky, his voice choked with emotion. “Elder Dugu, these people are utterly depraved and have committed countless misdeeds. Since Sister Muyun cannot act, I beg you to uphold justice for the Zhang family!”

A tremor of fear rippled through the crowd. Was there another master? Did Zhang Heng truly have a trump card?

The answer came swiftly. Two figures appeared at Zhang Heng’s side.

One was a beautiful young woman in practical attire, her delicate face tinged with righteous anger. The other, expressionless and entirely unremarkable, looked as if he would vanish into any crowd—except for the sword he cradled in his arms, wrapped tightly in strips of cloth.

At his arrival, Yuan Yi, Liu Tianqing, Wang Zewei, and their ilk dropped to their knees once more. Seeing the prince of the Yuan Kingdom kneel, the others hastily followed suit. Even the Zhang family was bewildered—why must they kneel again?

Murong Qingxue, the Saintess of the Exquisite Sanctuary, offered a slight bow to show her respect.

Yuan Yi felt a pang of despair—if only he had never come to trouble the Zhangs! Now, there would be no easy end to this.

The middle-aged man standing with the sword, impassive and inscrutable, was well-known to them.

“We pay our respects to Sword Saint Dugu!”
“Greetings, Sword Saint!”

All voices rose in unison.

Dugu Bai, the Sword Saint, was a ninth-stage Nascent Soul cultivator—the strongest sword immortal on the Immortal Continent, his power rivaling even those of the Tribulation Crossing realm. More terrifying still, he was famed for his unwavering righteousness; he was universally acknowledged as the most upright of cultivators.

Their attack on the Zhang family was, by all rights, indefensible. If Dugu Bai chose to pursue the matter, they would pay dearly.

Who would have thought that a humble clan like the Zhangs would be acquainted with such mighty figures? From now on, even with ten lives, they would not dare provoke the Zhang family again.

“Rise,” Dugu Bai said coolly.

Yuan Yi and Liu Tianqing, seeing the Sword Saint, quickly rose and tried to approach, hoping to curry favor and beg for leniency.

But Dugu Bai could not be bothered to spare them a glance. “Hand over your spirit stones and leave at once,” he said coldly.

At his words, the crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief. If Dugu Bai would let them go, a single spirit stone was nothing—ten, a hundred, they would gladly pay. In that instant, all dignity as powerful cultivators was cast aside. They wanted only to flee this cursed place as quickly as possible.

Zhang Heng, too, was overjoyed. The Sword Saint truly was a good man—it almost made him feel guilty for taking advantage.

He turned to the Zhang family, instructing them to fetch dozens of large chests to store the spirit stones. With so many people, even one stone each would make for tens of thousands—he was about to strike it rich, enough spirit stones for several lifetimes!

The Zhangs were jubilant; all their recent humiliation swept away.

Their young master was magnificent. Their young master was extraordinary.

As a minor clan in Liunan City, the Zhangs naturally lacked spatial treasures for storage, but a few dozen chests were easily found. If those were not enough, they could simply pile the stones in a room.

And so, those who had come to besiege the Zhangs, regardless of status or strength, each produced a spirit stone and tossed it toward Zhang Heng, then hurried away without looking back, fearful that he might call out and stop them again.

The scene was nothing short of ironic.

Zhang Heng pulled up a chair, reclined to the side, and leisurely waved his fan as he watched his family frantically collect the spirit stones. Now and then, he would call out,

“Form a line, come one at a time.”
“Hey, don’t push—if you’re not careful, I’ll keep you here as laborers!”
“King of the South? Come here yourself! You’re a lord, how can you steal your subordinates’ spirit stones?”

Liu Tianqing was fuming but could do nothing except obediently hand over the stone—after all, Dugu Bai’s sword was not to be trifled with.

Watching their twisted expressions of anger and helplessness, Zhang Heng could not help but feel satisfied. He relished their frustration, knowing there was nothing they could do about it.