Bamboo Case Chapter 31: White Robes Heading West

After the winter thunder cracked that day, the Savage World began to grow cold. Rain fell incessantly, continuing for several months—an occurrence unheard of in all of history.

On the Sacred Mountain of the Changxing Kingdom, the snow piled higher and higher. A hawk, soaring through the sky in search of prey, caught the reflection of a young boy running along the snow line in its cold, indifferent eyes.

With a sharp cry, the hawk dove, plummeting like a steel arrow toward the disheveled youth.

Suddenly, the sound of galloping hooves erupted. A rare flicker of fear appeared in the hawk’s eyes; disregarding its easy prey, it veered away, fleeing from the boy as fast as it could.

The thick mantle of snow on the Sacred Mountain began to tremble, and soon, the entire mountain seemed to be shaking violently. All of this was caused by nothing more than the arrival of a single iron-clad cavalry.

The boy looked back, and the mere sight of the black armor was enough to fill him with visceral terror.

"Father... Mother..."

The tears streaming down the boy’s face turned into ice crystals, falling vertically onto the snow.

The Sacred Mountain did not believe in tears.

The boy finally stopped. He looked back and saw the army, composed of men clad in simple black armor. Their dark, snow-crushing armor and the blades at their waists also did not believe in tears.

"If there is a next life, I will kill every one of you!" the boy roared.

No one answered him. Even the brown-red warhorses merely breathed softly, their eyes filled with disdain.

As the cavalry closed in step by step, the boy ceased his retreat. He drew a short blade and held it to his own throat. His gaze was resolute, and his bright red blood pulsed hotly beneath his skin, appearing ready to gush forth with the slightest pressure of the blade.

The black-clad cavalry remained unmoved, as if the boy’s life or death had nothing to do with them at all.

Feeling both pitiful and ridiculous, the boy looked up at the falling snow, closed his eyes, and drew the blade across his neck.

But the sharp sting of pain did not pierce his brain. Was death not painful after all?

The boy opened his eyes, staring blankly at the two fingers that had caught the blade.

Before him stood a young man in white, slightly taller than the boy, holding an umbrella. A plain, sheathless long sword hung at his waist.

"The Sacred Mountain does not believe in the tears of the cowardly. Your death changes nothing."

With a gentle flick, the young man in white sent the boy's short blade clattering to the ground.

"Who... are you?" the boy asked, his voice trembling.

"Me?" The young man in white chuckled. "You may call me Daoist Yun."

"Master Yun, His Majesty the Emperor requests your presence."

Within the ranks of the black-clad cavalry, a soldier rode forward and stopped before Lu Yun. He dismounted and bowed respectfully. "His Majesty hopes that you will serve as the Imperial Preceptor of our Changxing Kingdom."

"Why should I become some Imperial Preceptor?"

Lu Yun countered, "What can your Emperor, or for that matter, your Changxing Kingdom, offer me?"

"We can offer nothing at the moment," the man replied with profound sincerity. He straightened his back and looked at Lu Yun. "But in the future, if our kingdom can truly withstand the invasion of the White Plains Kingdom, we will exhaust the power of the entire nation to assist you in breaking through to the Upper Five Realms."

"Have you inquired about the City Lord of the White Plains Kingdom who goes by the name Daoist Yun?" Lu Yun tucked his hands into his sleeves. "If so, you have found the wrong person. I merely happen to share the same Daoist title; we do not know each other at all. If you want me to go to the White Plains Kingdom to intercede for you, I would first have to know their Emperor."

The black-clad soldier took a deep breath. "Master, His Majesty said that even if you are not the same person, the Changxing Kingdom is willing to take the gamble."

"I have no interest in that." Lu Yun patted the boy on the shoulder. "Furthermore, I am taking this child with me. Let us consider the disturbance of my cultivation settled."

The black-clad soldier reached out to stop him. "I implore you to reconsider, Master."

Lu Yun narrowed his eyes and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

In the next instant, the soldier involuntarily took a step back.

Lu Yun glanced back at the iron cavalry, then turned and walked away, holding his umbrella in one hand and leading the boy with the other.

"The Changxing Kingdom has no chance of victory against the White Plains Kingdom. I advise you to simply surrender."

Watching their retreating figures, the black-clad soldier seemed to heave a sigh of relief, as if granted a pardon.

"General, why didn't you let us charge? He's only at the Guan-Hai Realm; could he really have killed over a hundred of us at the foot of the Sacred Mountain?" a soldier asked, confused.

"Perhaps he truly could." The general’s eyes were grave as he waved his hand. "Return to the capital!"

"But General..."

The soldier wanted to say more, but was cut off by the general’s cold glare.

"What comes next is not for you or me to manage, and that man is not someone you or I can kill. It is as simple as that. Do you have any other questions?!"

"No, no..."

As the general watched the soldier’s shifty eyes, he suddenly recalled the sensation he felt when the young man touched his sword. In that moment, he felt as if he were standing before a bright, full moon. The faint killing intent, combined with the boundless sword energy of that bright moon, had left him no choice but to retreat.

...

"What is your name?" Lu Yun asked casually, holding his umbrella.

"Song Lian..." The boy, soaked by the snow, looked up at the umbrella, which was clearly positioned away from him.

"You don't need this," Lu Yun said faintly. "A young child should stand in the snow a little more; it’s good for the body."

Song Lian remained silent.

"Was your whole family slaughtered?"

"Yes."

"Do you hate that black-clad cavalry?"

"Yes."

"Do you want revenge?"

Upon hearing this, Song Lian immediately looked up, his voice firm. "I will kill them!"

Lu Yun nodded and said nothing more. The two disappeared into the wind and snow.

...

At the sacrificial altar of the Changxing Kingdom, an old man dressed in fur robes, his body smeared with colorful paint, performed an exaggerated dance. A young Emperor in dragon robes watched tensely from below the altar.

After a long while, the old man ceased his dance, approached the Emperor, and knelt respectfully.

"The survivor of the Nan clan has been taken away by that man. They are..." The high priest pointed toward the west. "...heading toward the Ten Thousand Mountains."

The young Emperor clenched his fists. "Kesa, can you kill him?"

"I can, but I believe it is unnecessary," the priest known as Kesa replied.

"It is necessary." The Emperor stared fixedly into the distance. "Someone once saw Daoist Yun before the martial arts tournament in Qianjing City, but during that time, Daoist Yun never went to Qianjing City at all. Therefore, there are already two Daoist Yuns in the White Plains Kingdom!"

"But Your Majesty, the Emperor of the White Plains Kingdom might declare war because of this," Kesa warned, trying to persuade his sovereign.

"A Guan-Hai Realm cultivator has been cultivating on our Sacred Mountain for months. This is an insult to Changxing, a provocation from the White Plains!" The young Emperor suddenly thought of the ruler of the White Plains Kingdom, who was as young as he was. "He wouldn't dare to start a war—he wouldn't dare!"