Chapter Sixty-Eight: Storms over Shu Road, First Foray into the Tang Family Fortress

Thirty years is enough time for a generation to grow old and for a city to don a new face.

When my daughter and I once again set foot on the land of China, landing in Rong City, the capital of Shu, even I—a man who has lived for more than two millennia—felt a trace of wonder at the sight before me.

The sky was no longer the sole realm of birds. Sleek, silent, unmanned aerial vehicles, like diligent worker bees, shuttled along crisscrossing airways, carrying parcels and passengers. On both sides of the street, the once ubiquitous LCD billboards had long since been replaced by holographic images projected directly into the air; lifelike virtual idols sang and danced on the street corners, permeating everything with a distinctly cyberpunk atmosphere.

“Father, the world has become… livelier,” Yi Yi said, tilting her small face up, her eyes calm as she surveyed the bizarre scene before her.

“Yes,” I replied with a sigh. “The wisdom of mortals can always, within the limits of their short lives, create infinite possibilities.”

We were in no hurry to visit the Tang Clan. For those of us blessed with long life, time was the one thing we lacked least. To obtain something from the Tang Clan—renowned for their secrecy and caution—nothing was more taboo than acting rashly.

For the following year, I concealed all traces of my cultivation, living like an ordinary father traveling with his daughter. Together, we roamed the famous mountains and rivers of Shu.

Beneath the feet of the Giant Buddha of Leshan, we sailed by boat, feeling the grandeur and tranquility that had endured for millennia. On the golden summit of Emei, we watched the surging sea of clouds and the rising sun; Yi Yi pointed to the distant clouds, asking if perhaps a fairy island lay hidden beneath them. In Jiuzhaigou, we strolled among the dazzlingly colored lakes; the crystal-clear water reflected our forms, as though we had stepped into a piece of flawless jade. At Dujiangyan, I spoke to Yi Yi about the ancient wisdom of water control from more than two thousand years ago; the principle of "following nature" applied as much to the world of cultivation as it did to the mundane.

As we traveled, my vast divine sense spread silently, an invisible net that covered every teahouse, tavern, and martial arts school we passed. I listened, I gathered, I pieced together all that had transpired in the ancient martial world over the past thirty years.

Soon, I had assembled a complete picture of the Tang Clan’s affairs.

Thirty years can change much.

The high-spirited young heir to the Tang Clan I remembered—Tang Feng, once destined to inherit the family—had already faded into legend. Officially, he had disappeared during an expedition over twenty years ago, his fate unknown. But from the brief comments of some elders in the ancient martial world, I deduced that his disappearance was likely linked to internal power struggles within the clan.

Now, the head of the Tang Clan was Tang Ao, Tang Feng’s cousin.

He was a man even more iron-fisted and radical than the old clan master. After taking charge, he shifted the Tang Clan from its former semi-reclusive state and ruthlessly eliminated several neighboring factions opposed to them, raising the Tang Clan’s prestige in Shu to unprecedented heights.

Most crucially, intelligence revealed that in the past half year, the long-silent Demonic Sect had begun to act frequently on the edges of Shu for reasons unknown, seemingly searching for something. Several bloody skirmishes had already broken out between their members and the Tang Clan’s patrol disciples.

A storm was brewing.

When our year of wandering ended, I took Yi Yi to a small town near the Tang Fortress.

The Tang Fortress was nestled within a perilous gorge, easy to defend and hard to attack. Compared to thirty years ago, its scale had grown several times over; not only were there ancient mechanical traps in the outer areas, but also countless modern surveillance and defense systems, seamlessly blending technology with mechanical ingenuity to form a true iron fortress.

I knew the opportunity I was waiting for was drawing near.

We settled into the most ordinary inn in the town, quietly watching and waiting.

By day, I guided Yi Yi in her cultivation or took her out to sample the spicy, fragrant delicacies of Shu. At night, my divine sense stretched forth like a falcon lurking in the shadows, monitoring every movement near the Tang Fortress.

The opportunity arrived on the seventh night.

It was a moonless night; thick clouds masked the stars and the earth was shrouded in darkness.

My divine sense caught a specially modified off-road vehicle slipping silently out of a side gate of the Tang Fortress, following a winding mountain road toward the outside world. Aside from the driver, there was only one passenger.

She appeared to be a girl of sixteen or seventeen, dressed in fitted black combat attire, her long hair tied in a high ponytail. There was an air of maturity and faint melancholy about her that belied her age.

From the barely discernible aura about her—so similar to Tang Ao’s—I immediately recognized her as Tang Ao’s only daughter: Tang Ling.

Almost as soon as their vehicle left the defensive perimeter, several shadowy figures emerged silently from the dense woods on either side of the road, ghostlike in the night as they trailed the car from afar.

The Demonic Sect had finally made their move.

Their target was clear: Tang Ling.

I did not act immediately. I was waiting—for the perfect moment to intervene.

The off-road vehicle traveled for about half an hour along the winding road, coming to the most perilous section: a sheer cliff on one side, a steep mountain wall on the other—the perfect place for an ambush.

A harsh screech of tires shattered the silence of the night.

Several venom-tipped darts, glimmering with a ghostly blue light, shot out from the darkness, puncturing the vehicle’s tires with deadly precision. The car spun out of control, skidding in a dangerous arc before slamming sideways into the mountainside. The front crumpled, smoke hissing from the engine.

The door was kicked open. Tang Ling rolled out from the passenger seat, already wielding a strangely shaped mechanical crossbow in her hand. She surveyed her surroundings warily, her delicate features icy and severe.

“Who’s there? Show yourselves!” she shouted coldly.

A grotesque laugh, grating on the ears, answered her. “Heh heh heh... As expected of Tang Ao’s daughter. Even with death at the door, you still have spirit.”

Five black-clad figures emerged slowly from all directions, surrounding Tang Ling. Each wore a black cloak and a fearsome demon mask, exuding a chilling, sinister aura.

Foremost among them was a towering man, unarmed, toying with a jade scepter of deep green.

“The Jade Scepter Envoy of the Demonic Sect?” Tang Ling’s face turned grave as she recognized the scepter. “How bold you are, daring to act on the Tang Clan’s ground!”

“Tang Fortress? What of it?” The Jade Scepter Envoy sneered. “Little girl, we have no interest in your life. Come with us quietly, and we promise you won’t be harmed. Otherwise... this thousand-foot abyss would make a fine grave.”

“Dream on!”

Without hesitation, Tang Ling raised her crossbow and fired. Three bolts shot out in a triangular formation with a piercing whistle, aimed straight at the envoy’s face.

He simply raised his left hand with contempt. A shield of black energy materialized out of thin air, effortlessly blocking the bolts.

“The Tang Clan’s mechanical arts are nothing but children's toys,” he scoffed.

Before his words had even faded, his figure vanished.

Tang Ling’s instincts screamed danger. She leapt backward without thinking, her hand darting to her waist to fling several black iron spheres onto the ground.

Explosions thundered as the spheres hit, erupting into thick poisonous fog and countless fine steel needles, covering the area before her—a signature weapon of the Tang Clan, the Poisonfire Thunderbomb.

But a pale hand ghosted through the poisonous cloud and steel needles, seizing her throat with uncanny precision.

The Jade Scepter Envoy had somehow appeared behind her, so swift she had no chance to react.

The difference in strength was overwhelming.

“Will you still resist?” a cold voice whispered in her ear.

Despair flickered in Tang Ling’s eyes.

And then, a calm voice, as if resounding from another dimension, rang clearly in everyone’s ears:

“Is bullying a young girl the limit of your abilities?”