92: Chapter 92 A wise person knows when to yield.

The purple-gold flying boat shuttled through the sea of clouds.

Gu Sheng sat on a soft couch, his fingers tapping the tabletop. The setup in the Eastern Region was complete; the battle in Tianshui City had brought in a significant amount of destiny points.

He pulled up the System panel.

Balance: 1.85 million.

“Buy that fragment of the Extreme Dao Imperial Weapon in the mall,” Gu Sheng commanded in his mind.

System: [Deducting 500,000 destiny points. The Extreme Dao Imperial Weapon fragment has been delivered to your storage ring. Host, at your spending speed, even a Child of Destiny wouldn't be enough for you to fleece.]

Gu Sheng ignored the System's teasing. With the dawn of the Great Era, those old fogies from the Central Continent were all crawling out. Without a handy weapon, he wouldn't be able to hold down the fort. He took the fragment out from his storage ring.

It was a section of a broken sword blade. It was rusted and looked unremarkable, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand tons in his hand.

“Pavilion Revered Master, we are approaching Heavenly Saint City,” Xuan Kong reported from outside the door.

Gu Sheng put away the broken blade and walked out of the cabin.

Top floor of the Star-Plucking Tower.

Su Jiuer walked in holding an account book and placed it on the table. “Pavilion Revered Master, something has happened over in Great Xia.”

“Speak.”

“The former site of the Taichu Holy Land has been occupied by a group of Sword Cultivators calling themselves the 'Sword Burial Abyss.' The Great Xia army has surrounded them for three days but cannot break in. Mr. Chen went to take a look and said there's an old monster, a Half-Step Quasi-Emperor, sleeping inside, so he didn't dare to force his way in.”

Gu Sheng raised an eyebrow. Sword Burial Abyss. Wasn't Su Qianxue’s father, Su Tiance, trapped in the Sword Burial Abyss before being rescued? Why did those Sword Cultivators come out to occupy the Taichu Holy Land?

Luo Qingxue walked in from the door. “Pavilion Revered Master, the Empress has sent word. People from the Nine Nether Magic Sect of the Western Barrens are gathering at the border. The Nether Ancestor has declared that Great Xia must hand over thirty percent of the Taichu Holy Land's resources.”

Gu Sheng smiled. This Nether Ancestor had bought an Ancient Emperor's corpse in the Northern Plains and had grown bold enough to try and blackmail Great Xia.

“What does Chen Changsheng say?”

“Mr. Chen says he is a scholar and isn't good at group fights. He wants the Pavilion Revered Master to return quickly to take charge of the situation.”

Gu Sheng stood up. “Let's go to the Taichu Main Peak.”

Taichu Main Peak.

The mountain gate, which had originally been taken over by Great Xia, was now covered in rusted iron swords. Sword Qi crisscrossed, sealing the mountain paths tight.

Xia Qingyue stood at the foot of the mountain wearing golden armor, her expression very grim. Great Xia's Black Armor Army had suffered many casualties and had retreated five miles away.

Chen Changsheng sat on a rock, drinking from a tattered wine gourd. “Great Xia's wine is truly good,” Chen Changsheng smacked his lips.

Xia Qingyue glanced at him. “Sir, can this sword array really not be broken?”

Chen Changsheng shook his head. “The one inside is a tough nut to crack. A living fossil of the Ancient Sword Sect. As an Early Stage Quasi-Emperor, I could break it if I truly risked my life, but it's not worth it. Let's wait for the Pavilion Revered Master.”

The sound of whistling air came from the horizon. The purple-gold flying boat hovered above the Taichu Main Peak.

Gu Sheng walked down the deck, with Luo Qingxue and Xuan Kong following behind.

Xia Qingyue went to greet him. “Pavilion Master Gu.”

Gu Sheng nodded and looked at the iron swords covering the mountain. “People from the Sword Burial Abyss?”

“Yes. The leader is a Sword Cultivator named Jian Jiu, with a Saint King cultivation. He said this place has good Feng Shui and is suitable for nurturing swords,” Xia Qingyue answered.

Gu Sheng walked to the front of the sword array. A streak of Sword Qi shot toward him.

Xuan Kong raised his hand and blocked it.

“Who is making a noise outside?” A young man carrying nine swords walked down from the mountain. Jian Jiu. He looked at Gu Sheng. “Heavenly Secrets Pavilion? Never heard of it. My Sword Burial Abyss wants this place; get lost while you still can.”

Gu Sheng didn't speak; he took out the Extreme Dao Imperial Weapon fragment from his storage ring.

The moment the broken blade was brought out, all the iron swords on the entire Taichu Main Peak began to tremble. The sound of sword cries echoed through the clouds.

The expression on Jian Jiu's face changed. “An Extreme Dao Imperial Weapon?”

Gu Sheng tossed the broken blade in his hand. “Good eye. Now, who wants this place?”

Jian Jiu gripped the hilt of the sword on his back. “So what if it's an Imperial Weapon fragment? My Revered Master is sleeping up there, a Half-Step Quasi-Emperor. Do you dare move?”

Gu Sheng smiled. “Half-Step Quasi-Emperor? Chen Changsheng.”

Chen Changsheng put away his wine gourd and walked over. “At your command, Pavilion Revered Master.”

“Wake his Revered Master up. Tell him the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion is here to collect protection fees.”

Chen Changsheng cleared his throat. “When a friend comes from afar, though they be far away, they must be executed.”

Confucian Law transformed into golden characters that smashed directly onto the summit of the Taichu Main Peak. The mountain structure collapsed. An extremely sharp Sword Intent soared into the sky. An old man wearing tattered Daoist robes appeared in mid-air.

“Who dares disturb my secluded cultivation!” the old man roared.

Chen Changsheng pointed at Gu Sheng. “Our Pavilion Revered Master is looking for you.”

The old man looked down, and when he saw the Imperial Weapon fragment in Gu Sheng's hand, his pupils shrank. “Heavenly Secrets Pavilion? I am Jian Wuji of the Sword Burial Abyss. Does Your Excellency think you can scare me off with a piece of scrap metal?”

Jian Wuji stood in mid-air, his tattered Daoist robes billowing in the wind. He stared intently at the broken blade in Gu Sheng's hand, his eyelids twitching wildly.

Having lived for tens of thousands of years, he had seen as many Magic Treasures as there were hairs on a cow, but the only thing that could make his Natal Sword Heart tremble was an Imperial Weapon.

“Scrap metal?” Gu Sheng smiled. He gripped the hilt of the broken blade and, without infusing any spiritual power, simply swung it forward.

There was no earth-shattering Sword Qi.

There was only a sense of pressure pure to the extreme, which spread outward with Gu Sheng as the center.

The iron swords covering the mountains and fields wailed simultaneously at this moment. Immediately afterward, tens of thousands of swords snapped in the middle, the cuts smooth.

The sword casket on Jian Jiu's back made a muffled sound; of the nine Flying Swords he had nurtured for a hundred years, six had broken. His legs went weak, and he knelt directly on the mountain path.

Jian Wuji in mid-air bore the brunt of it. That sense of pressure slammed into him, and his Half-Step Quasi-Emperor Protective Aura was as fragile as a sheet of paper. He let out a muffled groan and plummeted from mid-air, crashing at Gu Sheng's feet and creating a deep pit.

The dust cleared. Jian Wuji climbed out looking disheveled, with blood hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Chen Changsheng took a sip of wine and hung the wine gourd back on his waist. “Rotten wood cannot be carved. A scholar tries to reason with you, yet you insist on looking at weapons.”

Jian Wuji no longer had his previous arrogant air. He looked at the broken blade in Gu Sheng's hand, then at the unfathomable, shabby scholar beside him, and cursed in his heart.

What on earth was the background of the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion? A random teacher they produced was a Quasi-Emperor, and he was holding an Extreme Dao Imperial Weapon fragment. This battle couldn't be fought.

“Pavilion Master Gu.” Jian Wuji wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and put on a smile, “A misunderstanding. The Sword Burial Abyss has been in seclusion for many years and doesn't know the rules of the Central Continent. I will take my people and leave immediately; we definitely won't cause trouble for Great Xia.”

Gu Sheng put the broken blade into his storage ring. “Leave? You've turned the Taichu Main Peak into something like a Sword Tomb, and you want to just pat your butt and leave?”

He held out his hand. “The rule of the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion: damage to public property must be compensated at market value.”

Jian Wuji grit his teeth, fished out a Storage Pouch from his robe, and offered it with both hands.

Gu Sheng took it, swept it with his Divine Sense, and tossed it disdainfully to Xia Qingyue. “Twenty thousand Top-Grade Spirit Stones and a few crappy sword manuals. Sword Cultivators really are poorer than the next.”

Jian Wuji's old face turned red. The Sword Burial Abyss was famously poor; their entire net worth was sunk into their swords, so where would they have spare cash?

“If you have no money to compensate, then pay with your bodies.” Gu Sheng pulled over a chair and sat down. “Great Xia is currently short on manpower. Everyone in the Sword Burial Abyss, from top to bottom, will work for Great Xia for three hundred years. Room and board included, but no wages.”

Jian Wuji's eyes widened. “Pavilion Master Gu, Sword Cultivators would rather break than bend. You are insulting my Sword Burial Abyss...”

Chen Changsheng opened the bamboo slips in his hand. “Debts must be paid; it is the natural law. Those who default shall be punished with the rod.”

Will Manifests as Law. A golden ruler appeared out of thin air in mid-air and lashed down onto Jian Wuji's back.

Smack.

Jian Wuji was hit so hard he staggered, and a bloody mark was actually whipped onto his Half-Step Quasi-Emperor Physical Body. He gasped in pain and quickly changed his tune: “We'll do it! The Sword Burial Abyss will do it!”