Chapter 135: Fatal Attribute

Flakes of winter snow drifted down in endless silence, blanketing the world in a shimmering silver veil. A biting wind howled through the Frontier Pass, slicing through the air with icy precision.

In the Fenced Courtyard, Ren Qianqian practiced her Sword form in the snow. Her blade sang through the air, slicing through swirling frost, her body darting and weaving with the grace of a butterfly. Each movement was light, fluid—yet beneath the elegance, a deeper truth stirred.

“Sword form is only the surface,” Li Hao said from the side, crouched in the snow, meticulously building a snowman. He patted the mound with his palm, shaping it with careful strokes, occasionally glancing up at the girl. “You must grasp the trajectory, the rhythm, the true essence of the Sword.”

Ren Qianqian paused, puzzled. “The… trajectory of the Sword?”

“Mm.” Li Hao nodded, then stood, bent down to the woodshed, and plucked a withered branch. “Like this.”

He gave the branch a gentle shake—snow cascaded off. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he spun it through the air, letting it dart and weave like a dancer. The snow, scattered moments before, was caught again, perfectly reassembled, as if untouched.

Ren Qianqian stared, stunned.

“The Sword must resonate with the environment,” Li Hao explained. “Only then does it become truly tight, truly sharp.”

He returned to the snowman, shook off the remaining snow, and inserted the branch as a pair of twig-like arms.

Ren Qianqian fell into deep thought, staring at her sword. After a long silence, she resumed training—this time with new focus.

These past few days, aside from Li Hao’s occasional guidance, Li Hongzhuang and Song Qiumo had also offered brief but profound insights. Their teachings, like Li Hao’s, never lingered on form. They spoke from the depth of Masterhood, revealing the subtle nuances of their own Sword Dao.

This kind of teaching had its pros and cons. The downside? It was often abstract—like mist in the wind, hard to grasp. But the upside? If one possessed high Insight, a single moment of understanding could propel one’s Dao forward by leaps and bounds. To wield the Sword by Intent was to begin forging one’s own path toward Masterhood—years ahead of time.

Ren Qianqian continued her practice.

Li Hao, meanwhile, began constructing a second snowman.

Suddenly, from beyond the border, a horse thundered toward the pass.

The Crimson Blood Horse burst into the courtyard, skidding to a halt before the small residence.

Li Hongzhuang, who had been monitoring the fire in the kitchen, instantly sensed the urgency. She burst out in a flash.

“You’re… from the Liang Prefecture Xuanzi Garrison?” she asked, eyes lighting up at the silver insignia on the old soldier’s armor. “Fifth Elder has arrived in Liang Prefecture? He’s here to reinforce us?”

The veteran dismounted swiftly, bowing deeply, and handed over a military report. “The General has just arrived in Liang Prefecture. He sent me to deliver this report to the Commandant.”

Li Hongzhuang took it, flipping through the pages with speed. Her expression darkened. Her gaze sharpened, cold as bone.

“These Demon Beasts… they actually dared to scheme against Liang Prefecture?”

She closed the report, took a deep breath, and said, “The journey was long. Won’t you come in for rest?”

“No, thank you,” the old man replied, voice steady. “The General awaits my return. Commandant—do you have any message for him?”

The man’s heart stirred with confusion. He had ridden through the wasteland, past scores of Demon Beast corpses. The once-mighty Cangya City—reduced to ruins, just as rumors claimed. He expected a desolate military camp, yet found this warm, peaceful Fenced Courtyard instead.

A reply… Li Hongzhuang thought of the report’s final pages. Alongside intelligence on the Demon Beasts, there was a personal letter—words filled with care. Warnings. Concerns for her well-being. A gentle reminder to look after Hao'er, and to retreat if danger came.

Not much, but she felt the warmth behind every line. The genuine care of Fifth Elder.

“Wait here,” she said, turning back into the courtyard.

She called for Li Hao, asked for ink and paper, and quickly wrote a family letter. She handed it to the soldier waiting in the snow.

The old man rolled the letter, tucked it into his sleeve, mounted his horse, and galloped away—leaving behind a trail of hoofprints in the snow.

Once he was gone, Li Hongzhuang summoned Li Hao and handed him the military report.

“Fifth Elder reports the Demon Beasts beyond Liang Prefecture are restless, ready to strike. Some cities have already been infiltrated. They plan to coordinate an internal assault—aiming to swallow Liang Prefecture whole. That’s why he’s come to reside here, to preside over the defense.”

She looked at Li Hao. “Our Heavenly Gate Pass may face a large-scale attack in the coming days.”

Li Hao glanced at the report, then paused at the personal note from Fifth Uncle. A memory surfaced—his fleeting impression from the family banquet, the man’s courteous smile, the brief exchange.

He set it aside. “When the enemy comes, we’ll meet them head-on. If they bring war, we’ll answer with a great cauldron.”

“…” Li Hongzhuang sighed, then smiled wryly. With two Four Foundations Realm masters stationed here, there was no need to panic. Retreat was still possible. But the question remained—when would the assault come?

She tucked the report away.

“Let’s eat,” Li Hao called. “Time for lunch.”

After the snow, the frontier had gained a wealth of fresh water. Freed from constant battle, Li Hongzhuang had relaxed. Her once greasy hair, now neatly washed, flowed like ink-dark silk over her shoulders. Her blood-stained crimson battle armor had been cleaned, still worn with readiness—but her demeanor was lighter, her presence as radiant as a painting of a warrior general.

Li Hao had crafted several large wooden barrels. At night, they boiled snow into water, creating a makeshift hot spring. Soaking in the warmth, eating roasted meat, sipping wine, chatting casually with Old Feng—it was a life of pure ease.

The frontier, once a place of dread, now felt like a retreat.

The world was blanketed in snow, cold and bleak—but sheltered, the wind and frost meant nothing.

For days, Li Hao trained with Song Qiumo, hunting demons beyond the pass. At night, they returned to the courtyard. Life was steady, rhythmic.

Each hunt added to his Painting Path experience. He was nearing the Sixth Level.

His Fishing Experience, too, was slowly climbing—on the verge of breaking through the bottleneck to the Sixth Level.

But one regret: the Three Immortal Great Demons nearby had vanished, as if they’d sensed something. Li Hao had found several caves, reeking of demonic aura—yet the Great Demons were long gone. From interrogating minor demons, he learned they’d fled days ago.

He sealed the caves with a single palm strike, leaving behind a subtle fish-mark signal—so if any Demon Beasts passed by again, he’d know.

Each day passed.

As Li Hao hunted, his Master’s Mindset deepened.

Once, he had been arrogant, questioning every truth beneath heaven and earth. His path was far harder than most. The gate he’d kicked open—the Heavenly Gate—revealed a realm far vaster than he’d imagined.

What were all things? What was their essential origin?

Mountains, rivers, fish, insects, beasts… all were part of existence. But the number was infinite. To learn each one by example—no matter how long-lived one might be—would take lifetimes.

Li Hao, already at the Sixth Level of Physical Dao, could grasp the artistic conception of all things with a single glance. He could master them all—but he didn’t want many. He wanted one. A unified essence.

This was his burden. His choice. And only he could complete it.

In his travels, he and Song Qiumo wandered the wilds beyond the pass. From realizing the self, to glimpsing the universe.

He saw shrubs and blossoms. The bright moon. The tiny stream. The melting snow under sunlight. The stubborn green shoots beneath the snow.

All things carried power. But what did they share?

Snow could freeze everything—but one ray of sunlight pierced through it.

The tender shoot was weak—but snow could not kill it.

Birds and beasts walked freely—but in the snow, they trembled, rushed back to their nests, desperate for warmth.

So what was the power of all things?

A cold wind brushed his face. He looked toward the distant mountains and nearby forest. A flicker of understanding touched his heart—but vanished like mist.

As the season turned deeper into winter, snowfall grew heavier.

Today, he and Song Qiumo returned with two Demon Beasts from the Fifteen Li Stage. The wilds beyond the pass still teemed with more demons than within.

Outside the Fenced Courtyard, Li Hao had built several new homes. With no attack looming, there was no fear of destruction.

Li Hongzhuang asked, “Are you planning to rebuild the old city?”

Li Hao smiled. “If the demons never come… why not?”

She pondered.

These days, she occasionally left the camp to scout for demon trails. But the nearby beasts had been cleared by Li Hao. She reached the outer edge of Wanshan Demon King’s territory—no deeper. Yet the numbers had dwindled. No signs of large-scale demonic gatherings.

That didn’t match Fifth Elder’s report.

Yet she didn’t doubt the intelligence. Only a thought crept in: Could it be the demons are avoiding this pass because of the two Four Foundations Realm masters?

A guess with no proof. She decided to wait. If no movement came, she’d send a letter—warn Fifth Elder to be vigilant elsewhere.

…

Every few days, Song Qiumo would travel to nearby cities to procure supplies—vegetables, noodles, seasonings, and the Painting Paper Li Hao needed.

This time, she returned with a surprise.

A Chess Manual. Two scrolls of Famous Paintings.

These were the very things Li Hao had asked her to find.

He received them with delight, immediately acquiring them into his Character Panel.

The Chess Manual was titled New Study of the Canon of Chess—a beginner’s guide designed to accelerate learning.

After careful thought, Li Hao integrated it into his Yi Dao. The effect revealed instantly:

New Study of the Canon of Chess: Increases Object-Control Speed by 20%.

Compared to other manuals, this one’s effect seemed modest—nowhere near as flashy as the Seven Star Pointing Light. But like the Ten Thousand Aspects Attribute, it was a passive, constant boost. No power cost. No side effects. A permanent percentage increase.

And as his Object-Control Speed advanced, that 20% would grow ever more valuable.

The two Famous Paintings? He couldn’t yet tell what they’d grant. He tried embedding one into his Body Dao, the other into his Yi Dao.

The first was Bright Spring Little Shrimp. When embedded into Body Dao, it granted a 20% Water Affinity.

He didn’t fully understand the effect—but he felt a strange warmth when touching snowflakes. Soaking in the hot spring felt more comfortable. If he practiced Ice-Type Cultivation, it seemed to help.

But otherwise? Useless for now.

The second painting—Yellow Sparrow Catching Insects—depicted the classic tale: The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware the oriole waits behind. Its effect was bizarre:

When Attack is Not Yet Revealed: 1% Fatal Effect.

It resembled Hidden Bow—a hidden strike, doubling damage before exposure. But Hidden Bow doubled it at 100% certainty. This was only 1%.

Tiny. Negligible.

Yet the word Fatal Effect… it stirred the imagination.

Could it mean—instant kill, regardless of realm or defense, if hit?

If so, this painting would be terrifying.

But Li Hao paused. Then shook his head. It was likely useless.

Against low-realm foes, a single strike would end them—no need for a 1% chance. Against high-realm opponents, their awareness would expose the attack. Stealth was rare. And even if he succeeded, the Qi cost would be absurd. He’d have to walk carefully—lest he trip and break his neck.

Still… adding a new attribute was better than nothing. This power came freely—no cultivation required. A true windfall.

Seeing Li Hao’s joy, Song Qiumo smiled and added: “There’s more. I heard of another Famous Painting—said to be in the hands of a Master.”

“Oh?” Li Hao’s eyes sparkled. “Can we buy it? What does he want?”

“Just rumors,” she said. “I haven’t met him yet—but I know his whereabouts. He’s expected to arrive in Dayue City in Liang Prefecture soon.”

“Master’s Martial Discourse?” Li Hao blinked, surprised.

He knew of this event from the Listening to Rain Pavilion records—a once-in-a-generation gathering. Masters from across the realm would come to exchange Dao, test their paths. Even those who lived in seclusion in mountain forests would descend.

It was rare for them to leave their cultivation retreats. Only such a grand gathering could draw them out.

And the results? Legends told of prodigies, mere Fifteen Li Stage youths, who, after listening to the discourse, kicked open the Gate of Heaven—leaping directly into Celestial Human Sect Master, their fame spreading across the world.

Every such gathering brought at least one such miracle.

So it wasn’t just masters. Prodigies came too.

“Dayue City is far,” Li Hao mused. “Even at full speed, a round trip would take a day.”

Song Qiumo replied, “Dayue City has a City Formation. I have a Travel Permit from the Great Yu Dynasty, but it’s only valid in Qingzhou. I can freely move through all cities in Qing Prefecture. But Liang Prefecture? I’d need to register and be reviewed at the Prefectural Office. Song Yufeng would have to vouch for me.”

Li Hao understood. This was beyond her reach.

Registration and review took time—especially for a Four-Heaven Stage Great Demon King. The cities were wary. One wrong permit, and a demon could enter, massacre the city, and vanish before anyone could react. The destruction would spread too fast—whole provinces could fall.

And the nobles? They’d never allow it. A Great Demon King was like a tiger out of its cage—no matter how many assurances, no one would risk it.

Li Hao looked at Li Hongzhuang. “Hongzhuang Elder… can you go to Dayue City for me?”

Li Hongzhuang was surprised. She hadn’t expected him to care so much about a painting.

But she’d seen his work. She understood—he poured his heart into these side paths, these heresies. His cultivation? He barely cared.

She hadn’t seen him cultivate since that night.

Yet his cultivation speed was terrifying. Realm-wise, he was unmatched among his peers.

She could only sigh. The heavens are feeding him a meal, and he’s refusing to eat.

“I’d rather not run,” she said. “If you want it, go yourself.”

She had no interest in paintings. Once, as a child, she’d loved them—she’d embroidered copies onto handkerchiefs. But once she took up the Sword, she’d put down the needle forever.

Her eyes held only the wind and snow beyond the pass—and the endless demons to be cut down.

Li Hao sighed. Then, a thought struck him.

In recent days, all the demons within three hundred li of the frontier had been eradicated. The distant ones? Fleeing, hiding. Few left to hunt.

Even if he left for a few days… no harm would come.

“You can guard here for a few days,” Song Qiumo said, lounging on a soft chair piled with blankets, eyes half-closed. “I’ll watch over things.”

Li Hao smiled. “Then thank you, Elder.”

Song Qiumo gave him a faint glare—displeased by the title—but said nothing.

With Song Qiumo watching, he could finally relax. Her presence here was far more effective than his.

No demons had been found lately. He suspected it was because word had spread—Song Qiumo’s battle with the Dragon Lord had reached the demon realms beyond the border. Even though the Heavenly Gate Pass was empty, now it was more feared than an army.

No Demon King would dare risk a personal appearance. Not with the threat of being hunted down.

This place was now unshakable.

“Then, Qianqian,” Li Hao stood. “Get ready. We’re going to Dayue City. I hear there’s a Martial Temple there. You should go for Soul Rebirth.”

Ren Qianqian’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Li Hao scratched the head of the little white fox. “You’ve entered the Continuation of Soul Realm too. Where should you go for Soul Inheritance?”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end