Chapter Twenty-Four: Status

After Yang Nan had washed and dressed, his black hair cascading over his shoulders, his eyes bright as the stars, lips red and teeth white, his ethereal, otherworldly aura made the hearts of the two young women beside him beat wildly.

“Master, with such striking beauty, I cannot imagine how many women will fall for you in the future,” the bolder of the two, clad in white, remarked as she straightened his collar, unable to hide her admiration.

Seeing the faint blush on their delicate faces, Yang Nan suddenly smiled and said, “Beauty is but a fleeting illusion, a skeleton beneath rouge and powder, a king of bones. As seekers of the Way, how could we be swayed by outward appearances? Whether fair or ugly, what does it matter?”

Dieyi’s eyes dimmed, and she murmured softly, “Even if you were the ugliest man alive, you would still be more handsome to me than any other.”

Was this what they called ‘beauty in the eyes of the beloved’? Yang Nan sighed inwardly, but outwardly he laughed, “Very well. One day I’ll transform into the ugliest man you can imagine, and frighten you both every single day.”

The girl in white giggled, teasing, “You’re far too fond of cleanliness, Master. Even if we wished it, you’d never allow yourself to be so unsightly. You’re just trying to scare us.”

She smiled like a blossoming flower, sticking out her pink tongue in a playful face at Yang Nan. He couldn’t help but reach out, gently pinching her soft cheek, chuckling, “You little imp! If you’re afraid, you’d better work harder in your cultivation. With strong enough magic, what need have you to fear ugliness?”

Yang Nan’s unexpectedly affectionate gesture brought such undisguised joy to their faces that he sighed inwardly before drawing Dieyi forward, speaking solemnly to both, “I understand your feelings. But those who follow the Way do not seek immortality; all is illusory. Should you one day be fated for the Heavenly Path, I promise you will not be disappointed.”

It was not unheard of for cultivators to have companions and concubines. Yang Nan, unwilling to see either woman heartbroken, devised this compromise. In his life, few people were close to him; even though these two were not human, he wished to spare them needless emotional turmoil. If it spurred them to work harder, so much the better.

The two women were stunned and overjoyed by his words. Dieyi, in her excitement, dropped the comb she was holding to the floor.

“What’s wrong? Are you unwilling to become my concubines? Or is it that you scorn me now that I am no longer a prince of a minor state?” Yang Nan teased, seeing their dazed expressions.

Dieyi recovered, dropping gracefully to her knees as she choked out, “I am but a humble spirit, of low status. That Master does not abandon me, but takes me under his wing—I would die with no regrets if I might serve you in this life.”

Both women wept, and Yang Nan could only smile wryly. In this world, the status of spirits was low indeed. For women of such surpassing beauty to weep with joy at the prospect of becoming his concubines—were it his former life, it would have been he who wept with longing, never to win such women.

“Come, rise. Let this be our little pact: unless you reach the level of Grandmaster, you are not of the Yang family. If you stagnate and make no progress, don’t blame me for being heartless!” Yang Nan, seeing their mingled tears and smiles, deliberately put on a stern face to break the moment.

They stood, the girl in white glancing at his feigned sternness before breaking into a shy, playful smile, “Master, you could never bear to cast us aside. But rest assured: with your talismans and secret techniques, how could we sisters be outdone by that crab or golden carp?”

Today, with their status thus defined, the girl in white grew bolder than ever. Her open adoration was no longer concealed, her shy yet lively demeanor stirring Yang Nan’s heart. He took each of their delicate hands in his, “You must work hard. If you attain the rank of Grandmaster, I will formally accept you as disciples. One day, I will find you a method to achieve sainthood. If you can reach that height, we may share eternity together.”

Both nodded. Yang Nan had not yet attained sainthood, and his lifespan would be no more than a thousand years; monsters who failed to reach that level would live only a few thousand. For a cultivator, a hundred years was but the blink of an eye. Whether for Yang Nan or for themselves, the path of cultivation was one they must walk.

Yang Nan had little thought for romance, but if he could give them hope, perhaps they would one day make something of themselves—and if they achieved sainthood, such feelings would naturally fade away.

A few days later, the disciples whom Yang Nan had sent to Roc Demon Valley and Tiger Demon Valley returned. In the Jade Purity Hall, the disciple who had gone to Roc Demon Valley reported angrily, “Uncle-Master, I delivered your orders, but the Roc Demon King said if we want tributes, we’re to harvest them ourselves—and that we must pay him taxes as well!”

This disciple was clearly incensed. To think a domesticated demon would dare to tax its master! If the wider cultivation world heard of this, they’d laugh themselves silly.

Yang Nan merely smiled and waved a hand, “I expected as much. The Roc King grows ever more arrogant. If he is not dealt with, he’ll become a menace in time.”

Old Crab chimed in, “Young Master, but it’s said the Roc King is nearing the rank of Grandmaster. His power is truly formidable!” At these words, the assembled disciples grew anxious. Of everyone present, the highest cultivation was Seventh Level Weapon Master, and Yang Nan himself, as head of Jade Purity Hall, was only Third Level. The outer disciples of Kunlun were all Weapon Masters, with not a single Grandmaster among them—how could they slay the Roc King?

Yang Nan laughed, “It’s just a demon king—no need for a Grandmaster. He’ll soon reap what he’s sown!”

The disciples, seeing his confidence, felt both astonished and doubtful. But they were already tied to Yang Nan’s fate; if he lost, they could not return to Kunlun with their heads held high. Thus, they sincerely hoped their sixteen-year-old Uncle-Master would be the one to slay the Roc King.

Yang Nan read their faces and secretly chuckled, but said nothing more. With everything arranged, he spent his days cultivating in the cave with the two women and others. A great battle was surely coming, and every bit of cultivation would improve his chances.

Yang Nan had yet to master the third divine art in the Record of the Underworld Soldier Devouring the Heavens. Perhaps his mana was insufficient, or he was unable to merge man and weapon. He recalled seeing Bu Xu transform his weapon into a divine dragon, dominating the world, and thought it seemed simple—but when he attempted it himself, he found it impossible.

“Transforming the weapon into the true body—does it mean controlling the weapon with will, or pouring one’s soul into it?” Yang Nan pondered bitterly within the Talisman of Primordial Origin. The divine arts of Weapon Sect could not be mastered by will alone. How could a magic weapon be turned into a living creature?

After consulting Chi Yang, he learned that to transform a weapon into a true body was no ordinary feat. Cultivators’ bodies were fragile, but with such a divine art, the flesh would become as hard as steel, vastly improving the odds in combat.

However, with only the mana of a Master, sustaining such a transformation was impossible. At his current level, Yang Nan found the task too difficult.

To transform into the form of a serpent required purity of thought and boundless mana; the slightest error, and the art would fail. In the end, Yang Nan gave up on mastering the third divine art, finding it tedious and unrewarding.

In Tiger Demon Valley, when the news spread that the demons were no longer bound by Kunlun’s restraints, and would not be forced into the drudgery of herb-gathering and stone-mining, the monsters rejoiced. The Tiger Demon King was especially pleased, feasting and celebrating with his kin.

On Yang Nan’s instructions, the Kunlun disciples abandoned their arrogance, treating the Tiger King with respect and presenting him with weapons, armor, and elixirs. They promised henceforth to treat Tiger Demon Valley as an equal ally; all menial labor would be abolished.

Clutching the letter written by Yang Nan himself, the Tiger King was overjoyed. He hadn’t the courage to attack Jade Purity Peak, but neither would he have submitted had Yang Nan pressed him. Peace suited him perfectly.

Freed from bondage, the Tiger King assumed the full airs of a monarch, riding demon clouds daily to raid merchant ships at sea and villages on land. He devoured the men and kept the women, growing ever more brazen.

Each day in Jade Purity Hall, Yang Nan heard reports of the Tiger King’s atrocities. His eyes grew colder: without restraint, these demons grew daring indeed. In just a few months, countless were slaughtered in their lair; the monsters feasted on human flesh, boiling, roasting, frying, with not the slightest restraint. Had they truly come to regard mortals as mere food?

Observing the three valleys daily, the disciples who reported to him were furious, wishing nothing more than to draw their swords and exterminate the man-eating demons. Yang Nan soothed them with gentle words before inquiring about the Roc King and Flower Demon King.

The Roc King ignored the Kunlun disciples sent to him, sometimes even cursing them. Fortunately, he had not dared to raise a hand against them—he merely insulted them. Yang Nan ordered the outer disciple Hunyuan to visit daily and demand tribute. The Roc King, endlessly pestered, was tempted to kill Hunyuan, but the youth pleaded so pitifully, never uttering a harsh word, that the Roc King could not bring himself to act. Yet, the constant demands annoyed him to no end.

After months of this, the Roc King, at his wits’ end, finally handed over some rotten herbs and stones to Hunyuan, who accepted them gratefully. After a few days’ peace, he returned to make more demands, infuriating the Roc King. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

Hunyuan spread his hands helplessly, “Great Roc King, forgive my rudeness, but your tribute this year is simply inadequate! How am I to explain this to my superiors? I am only following orders—please, forgive me. You are the true master of Spirit Beast Mountain, rich beyond compare—surely you do not begrudge a few mere trifles?”

His flattering and pleading words left the Roc King unable to explode in anger, and he grudgingly handed over some more junk.

Yang Nan, hearing of Hunyuan’s antics in the hall, privately praised his cleverness. No matter how arrogant, the Roc King could hardly attack a humble, deferential Kunlun disciple. As the saying goes, one does not strike a smiling face. Hunyuan’s requests for low-grade herbs were harmless—but once the Roc King learned the Tiger King had done nothing and been set free, while he was harassed for payment, would he swallow such humiliation? Especially with old grudges between the two demon kings...

“Hunyuan, you’ve handled this perfectly! From now on, there’s no need to ask for any more herbs. Does the Roc King really take Kunlun disciples for beggars? Simply keep watch over the valley and report any movements,” Yang Nan instructed, praising Hunyuan’s shrewdness.

The disciples agreed. Kunlun was rich in spiritual veins and herb gardens—what need had they of the Roc King’s trash? Now they understood Yang Nan’s intent: loosen the leash on the Tiger King, press the Roc King, befriend the Flower King. With slack here and pressure there, would the two demon kings not soon come into conflict?

“Don’t be fooled by Uncle-Master’s youth—his methods are ruthlessly effective. Truly worthy of an inner disciple!” The disciples, after these days, had grown sincerely respectful. To become a Weapon Master in just three years of cultivation was almost unheard of. If they ingratiated themselves now, would they not have a powerful ally in the future?

“Uncle-Master, the Flower Demon Valley has turned over its spirit stones and herbs. The Flower King and Tree King, upon hearing of your arrival, have also sent several exceptionally gifted servants for your service,” reported Qian Ren, the disciple dispatched to Flower Demon Valley, as he entered with a group of beautiful demon maidens.