Chapter Fifty-Six: The Courage of My Life Still Unconquered, Sword Aura and River Tide Bar the Starry Firmament

The stars adorned the deep night, their brilliance undiminished as a solitary lamp flickered on the cliffs, the moon yet to set. The darkness grew thicker, and even the wind that blew seemed to carry a chill of impending violence.

A contest between cultivators had erupted, forcing the townsfolk to cower in their homes, not daring to light their lamps or raise their voices, fearful that any disturbance might draw the battle's fury upon them.

At the entrance of Qingbo Street, An Le stood still, gazing into the distance. Two swords, Qingshan and Moci, hung at his waist. Bathed in cold moonlight and starlight, his handsome features took on an otherworldly allure.

Yet at this moment, all the radiance of the long street seemed to be gathered into the blade of the scholar in his Confucian robe.

An Le watched with intensity, a flicker of admiration in his heart.

Luo Qingchen raised his sword to sever his Dao Heart. From then on, he would no longer seek the Grand Dao, only personal satisfaction—such boldness was truly astonishing.

The Dao Heart gathers a person's faith, spirit, and will in the pursuit of the Way. Severing it is not merely giving up one's path, but forsaking all future prospects.

Perhaps, with this cut, Luo Qingchen’s cultivation would forever stagnate, never to progress again.

Such courage left An Le in awe.

It is said that when an ordinary man is enraged, blood will spill within five paces, but when a scholar is roused to anger, his actions are equally decisive and unrestrained.

For the death of a mere coachman, Luo Qingchen could cast aside his Dao Heart in fury, repay the kindness once received from the Qin Prime Minister’s residence for cleansing his Dao Heart with the East Sea Purifying Pearl, and then, blade in hand and with no shame, charge at Qin Qianqiu.

Gratitude and resentment were clearly distinguished!

He had not let hatred cloud his mind and immediately attacked An Le, for Luo Qingchen knew that An Le was merely another victim—the true mastermind was Qin Qianqiu.

If he turned his blade on An Le, he would be playing right into the instigator’s hands.

A wrong must have its head, a debt its master—the blade seeks the true debtor!

Though, after this strike, Luo Qingchen might never live to see another day, this once-renowned genius of Qingzhou, once famed in Lin’an, might once again etch his name into the city's memory tonight.

Having severed his Dao Heart, Luo Qingchen radiated the dazzling brilliance of his former peak, his natural talent resurgent!

All this happened too swiftly. Qin Qianqiu was still in a daze when he felt the keen edge of the blade slicing his skin, bringing with it the scent of death.

Only then did Qin Qianqiu understand, his eyes flashing with boundless rage and a hint of fear.

“Insolence!”

“Defying your superior!”

“Luo Qingchen, have you gone mad?!”

Qin Qianqiu’s furious shouts rang out from his carriage.

Beside him, Wang Qinhe’s scalp tingled with fear—Luo Qingchen, with dual mastery of the Fifth Realm, was far beyond his ability to resist.

Wang Qinhe was vexed. He had merely intended to show off to his future rival, An Le, but instead, not only had he failed to impress, his treasured Dragon Spine Blade had fallen into Luo Qingchen’s hands, now turned against Qin Qianqiu.

In Luo Qingchen’s hands, the Dragon Spine, a treasured blade, came alive again in the hands of a prodigy, its steely light razor sharp.

It was only a mile’s distance, but Luo Qingchen’s speed grew ever swifter, his sword aura, blade aura, and spirit merging into a tornado that sprang from flat ground.

Qin Qianqiu’s heart trembled. He had never imagined Luo Qingchen would go so mad over a mere coachman.

A dragon has its reverse scale; touch it, and it goes berserk. Humans are no different.

In Lin’an, the coachman Zhu Shan was the only one close to Luo Qingchen. Now, forced to his death by Qin Qianqiu, how could Luo Qingchen not be enraged?

“Luo Qingchen, you seek death!”

Qin Qianqiu’s face turned cold. After the initial shock and fear, only anger remained. As for his own safety, he was not overly concerned.

He was, after all, the Young Master of the Qin residence, the Prime Minister’s most beloved son. His talent might be mediocre, but he was protected by the soul and aura of powerful guardians, as well as a host of defensive treasures.

Luo Qingchen could not threaten him.

Vast spiritual energy, blood essence, sword aura, and blade aura roared together on the dark Qingbo Street, gathering as if a furious dragon surged forth.

Luo Qingchen, wielding the Dragon Spine Blade, was like the head of that raging dragon, drawing ever closer!

In the distance, An Le watched, his heart surging, deeply shaken. This was Luo Qingchen’s full strength—such blazing blood and overwhelming spirit were far beyond what he could now achieve!

Tonight.

From within the Qin Prime Minister’s residence, a mighty spirit suddenly revived, its single thought seeming to shake the stars themselves.

A Seventh Realm cultivator’s soul swept out, instantly crossing the distance.

“Boldness!”

The soul’s thunderous rebuke crashed down like a divine power.

Yet Luo Qingchen’s expression did not change. Dragging his blade, he charged forward and in a flash drew near.

On the carriage, Qin Qianqiu’s blood and spirit burst forth, his will surging. Though he possessed many rare treasures, with his mediocre talent he had only reached the Fifth Body Tempering Realm and the Third Spirit Refinement Realm.

That was his limit—the limit of the talentless.

“You have received the Qin family’s favor. You think severing your Dao Heart is enough to wipe it away?”

“A dog that bites its master is a mad dog to be beaten to death!”

Qin Qianqiu maintained the composure of a superior, his voice cold. The next moment, he activated his protective treasure—a golden ancient bell’s shadow enveloped him.

This was the Vajra Bell, a Grade Three defensive artifact from the Temple of Rotten Ke.

At the same time, the guardian’s powerful soul swept in, raising a spiritual wall.

But suddenly, the guardian’s soul showed terror and looked up at the night sky.

There seemed to be a solitary figure standing atop the bright moon, who flicked a thread of sword energy down. The spiritual wall collapsed instantly.

“Li You’an!”

From the Qin residence, a voice of disbelief shattered Lin’an’s silence.

That exclamation sent all the formidable spirits in Lin’an surging, as though the mere mention of that name could stir the city itself.

On the long street, Luo Qingchen froze—Li You’an?

But he quickly regained his senses, seized the opportunity, and hurled the Dragon Spine Blade like lightning at the Vajra Bell.

Clang—

In the silent night of Lin’an, the ancient bell exploded in a deafening ring that echoed endlessly.

The Dragon Spine Blade was repelled, but the ornate carriage beneath Qin Qianqiu shattered instantly, splinters flying in every direction.

Qin Qianqiu, wrapped in the Vajra Bell, was thrown several meters and crashed to the ground, dazed and battered.

Luo Qingchen closed in, raining silver sword light upon Qin Qianqiu’s bell-encased form, each blow striking relentlessly.

Every chime of the Vajra Bell was another lash upon Qin Qianqiu.

A Grade Three Buddhist defensive artifact—truly expensive, stubbornly durable, and hard as iron.

Luo Qingchen could not break it, but it mattered not. He simply kept striking the bell, and with each blow, Qin Qianqiu’s complexion grew paler, his spirit battered by the strain of controlling the bell.

Such a treasure was far too much for Qin Qianqiu’s meager Third Spirit Refinement Realm to handle.

Eventually, Luo Qingchen even climbed atop the bell itself, blood and spirit surging, pounding it with his fists.

This must have been Qin Qianqiu’s most humiliating moment.

He was like a dead dog, pinned down and beaten, over and over.

Luo Qingchen’s fists were soon bloody, while within the Vajra Bell, Qin Qianqiu was bleeding from nose and mouth, his spirit fading. Realizing he could not kill Qin Qianqiu through the artifact’s defense, Luo Qingchen finally stood up.

He gave a final, vengeful kick, the muffled bell sounding as he swiftly retreated.

The Seventh Realm guardian’s soul crashed down, seeking to seize Luo Qingchen.

But the moonlit figure flicked another thread of sword energy, shattering the guardian’s spirit once more.

Seizing the chance, Luo Qingchen swept up his sword light and withdrew at speed.

On Qingbo Street, Luo Qingchen brushed the dust from his robes and returned to An Le’s side, cupping his hands in salute.

“Master An, until we meet again.”

“I hope that the promise between us will be fulfilled.”

So spoke Luo Qingchen.

An Le, clad in white, returned the salute, his voice solemn, “I shall await you. Take care.”

Luo Qingchen walked to the coachman Zhu Shan’s corpse, lifted the sturdy body onto his back, and looked up at the figure standing on the moon, his gaze complex.

“My thanks,” Luo Qingchen said.

Above the moonlight, the legendary top scholar Li You’an replied calmly, “Did you see? Even a Seventh Realm cultivator’s soul could not withstand a single thread of my sword energy. Why did you waste more than a decade in hesitation?”

Luo Qingchen fell silent, then burst into laughter. “I was deluded by appearances.”

“Alas, I understood too late.”

“Back then, I strode out of Qingzhou full of ambition—ten wasted years in Lin’an…”

“I’m leaving.”

Luo Qingchen’s laughter resounded through the long street. At that moment, his mind was utterly clear, though whether because he had severed his Dao Heart or because of Li You’an’s words, even he did not know.

Having returned from the sea, I bow before my books—my life’s pride not yet spent!

With a leap, Luo Qingchen galloped out of Lin’an.

The powerhouses of the Qin residence had already set out in pursuit.

Above the moonlight, Li You’an chuckled softly. “Tonight, I witnessed you sever your Dao Heart—such courage delights me. I’ll send you on your way. If you are willing, you may join my army, starting as a humble soldier. I will reserve the position of lieutenant for you.”

With that, Li You’an made a gentle slash.

His sword energy, like a river, stretched across the sky above Lin’an, severing the starry dome and blocking the path of all Qin residence pursuers.

Within the Qin residence, a mighty spirit soared to the stars, a long sigh echoing: “General Li, Luo Qingchen has wounded the young master, a grave offense. Do you truly mean to shelter him?”

Seated behind the current of sword energy, Li You’an, robed in white like drifting snow, replied, “The young master is not dead—just a few scratches. Over the years, I’ve heard in the army of the many people your young master has killed. If we are to reckon up the crimes, he could die a hundred deaths and still not atone.”

His voice was indifferent, tinged with a certain ethereal quality.

The people of the Prime Minister’s residence were left speechless, sighing once more, and said nothing further.

The return of Li You’an to Lin’an brought with it too many entanglements. This was a pivotal moment that none could afford to offend.

Qingbo Street finally quieted.

An Le watched Luo Qingchen depart, laughter echoing, and a faint smile tugged at his own lips.

He walked to the roadside, picked up the old yellow wine, took up the oiled-paper-wrapped beef, bathed in moonlight and starlight, swords at his waist, and made his way toward the courtyard.

As for the distant, howling Qin Qianqiu and Wang Qinhe, who silently retrieved the Dragon Spine Blade, he spared them not another glance.

Stepping on the bluestone road, the cold night wind brushed his face.

At the entrance to Taimao Alley, his steps halted.

He saw two figures chatting and laughing before the closed gate of the courtyard.

One was the old man of the temple, leaning on his bamboo staff.

The other was none other than the legendary top scholar Li You’an, whose sword energy had just cleaved through half of Lin’an.

An Le looked at the two and weighed the wine in his hand.

Tonight, he feared this one jug of rough wine would not be enough.