Chapter 9: The Prince of the Northern Frontier
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Gu Fangchen revealed his intentions clearly and presented the intelligence he had gathered. His goal was singular: to establish an equal footing for conversation between the two. Or, more precisely, to place "the organization behind him" on equal terms with the Martial Saint.
Though it seemed as if he was leading Ding Xingfeng by the nose throughout, the truth was that this Martial Saint’s personality was comparatively more approachable. Once a dialogue was successfully initiated, the subsequent tasks rarely became difficult; he might be verbally sharp, but he was fundamentally straightforward and dependable.
Some high-level NPCs were notoriously deceitful—more lies than truths, even their official scripts couldn’t be trusted. Players had to rely on their own wits and subtle deductions, lest they be crushed outright.
Even a practical NPC like Ding Xingfeng could, in a foul mood, kill you on the spot without hesitation.
Gu Fangchen was familiar with the procedure, but this was real people in play now, so there was still some uncertainty.
Fortunately, his performance was quite solid... He hadn’t realized before just how strong his psychological resilience was.
Moreover, Gu Fangchen’s current status helped considerably. Ding Xingfeng certainly knew he was following Ning Caiyong. Though the title of Crown Prince was false, Ning Caiyong’s indulgence was genuine.
Though the Soldier Saint Gu Yuye was no longer connected to him, the Sword Saint Ning Songjun was still his uncle!
It was well known that having many saints in the family granted one considerable leeway.
Otherwise, any random passerby might well have been cut down outright.
At the bow of the boat, Gu Fangchen and the Martial Saint sat opposite each other on either side of the brazier.
In the distance, Old Lady Cui finally sensed something amiss.
She had assumed the Crown Prince was merely indulging his playful nature, casually skipping stones by the lakeside with an old fisherman, so she stood guard nearby at a distance.
After all, she always knew the Crown Prince disliked being followed too closely by household servants, lest he throw a tantrum.
But only moments ago, she belatedly realized she hadn’t heard a single word of their conversation.
Even from afar, that was impossible!
Just as she prepared to approach, a terrifying, oppressive aura suddenly descended upon her, pinning her in place. Her entire body stiffened, unable to move.
Old Lady Cui opened her mouth but no sound came out. Cold sweat poured from her forehead.
The opponent’s strength was beyond Grandmaster level!
And likely far exceeding it!
How could the Crown Prince know such a person? And speak with them so casually?
...
Gu Fangchen lifted his head and saw the countdown timer overhead.
[Emperor (22 hours 12 minutes)]
“I possess a secret star constellation technique. Regardless of the opponent’s cultivation, if the timing is right, it can cause instant death.”
“But it requires close proximity to the target.”
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Gu Fangchen’s expression remained calm and serious as he said,
“If we want to kill Mohe Wuliang, Old Ding, you’ll have to bring me charging into the center of the Qingman encampment, at least within thirty zhang of him.”
Old Ding?
Ding Xingfeng glanced up with an expressionless look at the man who had suddenly grown overly familiar.
But then he reconsidered.
This boy had initially been rather disrespectful, calling him “Old Ding” outright. Now he showed a bit more respect.
Fine, let him be.
Gu Fangchen paused briefly, then continued in a low voice,
“Besides, only by doing so can you publicly kill Mohe Wuliang.”
Ding Xingfeng’s smile was forced, his eyes narrowing.
“What, you want to give me the credit for killing Mohe Wuliang? Do you think I’m a hypocrite, greedy for fame and glory?”
The Martial Saint’s aura suddenly materialized, countless mountains of corpses and seas of blood surging forth, terrifying beyond measure.
If anyone else were here, they would surely think he was in a foul mood but about to offer flattery.
Gu Fangchen noticed Ding Xingfeng tapping the bottom of his bowl lightly and blinked.
“Isn’t that so?”
“But who doesn’t like to hear good words? To desire fame and fortune is not hypocrisy but rather genuine honesty.”
“If anyone claims they do not seek fame and fortune, it is precisely the opposite—they want it more than anyone.”
Gu Fangchen shrugged.
“Besides, I can’t kill Mohe Wuliang alone.”
“And this constellation technique must never be revealed. Even if I wanted that great fame, I couldn’t have it.”
He made a pained yet magnanimous expression and sighed deeply.
“I must reluctantly let you have it.”
Ding Xingfeng raised an eyebrow and laughed heartily.
This time, it was genuine and uninhibited.
“The world has misunderstood me!”
“So it turns out there really is someone who knows what kind of man Ding Xingfeng truly is!”
The title of Martial Saint, the slayer born without compassion—those were not him.
Since enlisting in the army one hundred and eighty years ago, he had only sought to leave behind an enduring name.
That was why Mohe Wuliang’s slander had become an insurmountable psychological burden.
Ding Xingfeng’s laugh bore no malice; one could even glimpse the noble bearing of the former general and Martial Saint. The atmosphere immediately lightened.
Yet he put down his bowl and spoke frankly,
“But I still don’t believe you.”
“I’ve lived nearly two centuries, and I’ve never heard of any constellation technique that could allow someone without cultivation to kill a second-rank saint.”
He was a warrior who knew well that if such a method existed in secret, chaos would have long since engulfed the world.
Where would the two centuries of lasting peace come from?
Gu Fangchen raised an eyebrow, shifted his seat, and leaned in to clasp Old Ding’s shoulder.
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“I’ll ask you one question then, Old Ding. Do you think there are many people in this world who possess national fortune?”
Naturally, there are very few.
Not just few...
In the realm of Great Wei, perhaps only two people have it.
One resides in the Imperial Heavenly City, the other stands right before him.
Ding Xingfeng stared at the calm lake surface, inwardly confirming this.
Before asking this question, he had already entertained this possibility.
Otherwise, why would Gu Fangchen reveal he possessed national fortune?
If such an extraordinary secret technique truly existed, the only reasonable explanation would be that it was driven by national fortune.
However...
Ding Xingfeng wanted to probe just how much Gu Fangchen was relying on, and what relationship he and his backers shared.
After all, when it came to stars and fate, there was only one place in the world that could possibly hold such unfathomable power—
“Tanyuan.”
Whenever the world teetered on chaos, messengers from Tanyuan descended to restore order.
This was an unspoken truth among all cultivators, a legend that was no mere legend.
Ding Xingfeng had to treat this matter with utmost caution.
He deliberately remained silent.
Gu Fangchen furrowed his brow as if steeling himself, then took a step back and said,
“The secret technique is difficult to activate. I can demonstrate it once, but for a long time afterward, it cannot be used again.”
“If you accept this, then before that, you must swear a vow to dispel your inner demons and ensure the safety of this... identity of mine.”
...
Above the Northern Governor’s Mansion.
Two figures streaked through the clouds like shooting rainbows, cutting across the night sky at speeds barely visible to the naked eye, and landed before the main gate of the mansion.
The mansion’s bright lights illuminated their forms.
One was a lean middle-aged man dressed in a literary-military embroidered robe, standing with hands folded behind his back. Though simply standing, he radiated an imposing presence without anger.
Beside him stood a handsome young man, his hat adorned with a palace flower, clad in a flowing red robe. Tall and upright like bamboo, his long eyebrows reached his temples, eyes sharp as cold stars, exuding the refined demeanor of a scholar under a clear moonlit sky.
They were none other than the returning Northern Governor Gu Yuye and the recently renamed Saint Disciple and newly minted top scholar, Gu Yuandao.
Household servants inside the mansion hurried out to greet them.
A petite figure in bright red dashed forward, grabbing Gu Yuye’s arm and shaking it, pouting playfully.
“Father, why have you only just returned?”
She puffed her cheeks, sulking.
“When you were gone, the impostor nearly caused chaos!”