Chapter Eight: Eye Level

As a cultivator at the pinnacle of the world, Ding Xingfeng clearly understood that such absurd coincidences simply did not exist.

In the briefest moment just now, Ding Xingfeng had witnessed three sudden accidents.

Without exception, all three incidents occurred at the exact count of water skips.

In other words, even Heaven itself was aiding Gu Fangchen in winning the wager.

But Gu Fangchen, a man whose dantian was destroyed and poisoned by a deadly toxin, why should fate favor him?

If he were born lucky, he would never have ended up like this.

Only one possibility could explain such a phenomenon.

He had intercepted the national fortune!

When the fate of an entire nation converges into a single individual, naturally, any unimaginable event can happen.

Though Ding Xingfeng despised this fellow, the emergence of national fortune on the heir of the Northern Town King was truly a matter that could shake the world.

He reassessed Gu Fangchen, molding the powder in his hand back into a stone, and sneered coldly:

“Has Gu Yuye finally gone mad?”

Gu Fangchen sighed:

“He’s not mad at all—he’s very clever.”

“Having just found his own biological son, the top scholar, he’s trying to kick me out of the picture.”

Ding Xingfeng’s eyes flickered with intrigue.

Biological son?

Meaning this kid before him was actually a fake heir.

Yet the fake heir carried genuine national fortune.

This was national fortune!

To quietly intercept such a thing was no trivial matter, especially right under the watchful eyes of the Royal Heaven City.

Without the combined effort of several top experts in the divine path, it was pure fantasy.

And with Gu Yuye’s connections, it was entirely possible.

If this involved Gu Yuye, he must have been plotting for a long time behind the scenes.

Swapping children and seizing national fortune.

So what exactly did the Northern Town King intend—kick someone out or protect someone?

Gu Fangchen’s tone suggested he was an informed participant, yet from what he had said before, it seemed he also had other backing.

This force was the reason he dared to secretly approach Ding Xingfeng, behind Gu Yuye’s back.

Gu Fangchen noticed the stone spinning between Ding Xingfeng’s fingers.

Though the old man’s face showed no expression, Gu Fangchen already knew his favorability had risen.

When Ding Xingfeng was in a good mood, he would absentmindedly fidget.

On the contrary, when displeased, he would remain motionless.

How to raise favorability?

It was simple.

Why had this Martial Saint chosen to live in seclusion at White Horse Temple?

Many thought it was because he felt guilty for the many killings he had caused and sought liberation in the afterlife.

But Gu Fangchen knew the truth—

He loved listening to gossip above all else.

As a hub where cultivators from all factions mingled, White Horse Temple buzzed daily with various news.

With Ding Xingfeng’s keen hearing, even a mosquito chatting within the temple would be heard clearly.

He was truly always on the frontline of gossip.

How delightful.

Gu Fangchen himself was now a massive gossip center.

He could embellish and spin his own experiences into hundreds of headlines on UC Browser.

Whenever he spoke, Ding Xingfeng’s favorability naturally increased by one, then another, and another...

Ding Xingfeng turned around, hands behind his back, and said coldly:

“So you came to me looking for a way out? Is this what you call survival?”

Though his face showed nothing, his ears were perked.

Gu Fangchen shook his head:

“Finding a way out is easy for me, but what I want is not an exit—I want a future.”

“Not just my future, but... your future as well.”

Ding Xingfeng nearly laughed aloud.

He found this kid truly talented; few could make him laugh these days.

Today, he even began to wonder if he himself had a cheerful disposition after all.

People always said he was a heartless killer, a madman.

He used to believe it, but today he realized they had never seen a real madman before.

But Gu Fangchen’s next words froze the corners of his mouth.

Gu Fangchen spoke deliberately:

“Do you want to kill Mohe Wuliang?”

Ding Xingfeng turned his head, expressionless.

“You brat, do you even know who Mohe Wuliang is?”

Gu Fangchen pointed toward the night sky and smiled:

“As I said before, there are always some people in this world who can easily control the fate beneath this sky.”

He cleared his throat and began reciting one of Ding Xingfeng’s notorious tales verbatim.

“In the year 125 of Yong’an, the great shaman Mohe Wuliang of the Qingman tribe, under the alias Nie Xu, disguised himself as a Western monk to infiltrate the Great Wei.”

“He won eighty-eight debates and discussions without a single loss, earning the title 'Buddha’s Disciple and Holy Master' in Great Wei, amassing a vast reputation and unparalleled fame.”

“Later, he told Emperor Yong’an that he could discern human hearts and had the ability to expose heavenly demons.”

“Our Emperor believed him.”

Gu Fangchen looked at the scruffy, balding, hot-tempered old man before him and whispered:

“The first person he sought to test was the Marquis of Yizhou, the Martial Saint Ding Xingfeng, famed for his northern victory over the Qingman by the sword.”

Ding Xingfeng suddenly laughed self-mockingly:

“Yes, and you must know what the outcome was.”

Gu Fangchen nodded:

“Ding Xingfeng was born closed-minded and violent, a killer of thousands who took pleasure in slaughter. If left unchecked, he would become a demon ravaging the land.”

The old man stared at him:

“If you knew this, why aren’t you afraid?”

Gu Fangchen’s expression turned solemn as he cupped his fist respectfully toward Ding Xingfeng.

“Because those I kill are beasts who ravage and consume the border people of Great Wei. I only regret not having killed enough, that they do not tremble with fear at the sound of our Great Wei’s name!”

This was his true feeling. The game’s Great Wei background was a microcosm of all dynasties in Chinese history.

For him, it naturally evoked boundless empathy.

Ding Xingfeng was silent for a moment, sighed, and shook his head:

“Ridiculous.”

Ridiculous that even a mere youth could understand such a truth, yet the powerful nobles and officials in purple robes did not.

He reported the truth at the border, and they claimed it was impossible nonsense!

Though the Qingman were uncivilized, they were still human. If they had cattle and sheep to eat, why would they resort to cannibalism?

Some refused to believe that Ding Xingfeng, a lifetime punisher of villains and great hero, would lie.

So they consulted the Confucian Sage sitting on Yao Mountain.

The Sage said:

“Human nature at birth is fundamentally good.”

Thus, every accusation became evidence against Ding Xingfeng, branding him a liar who fabricated military achievements to instill fear.

Ding Xingfeng was not afraid of these accusations.

But later he realized their aim was not only to make the court wary of him but to destroy his resolve.

Because Mohe Wuliang spoke the truth.

Ding Xingfeng truly delighted in killing; his violence and mass slaughter were real.

When he lost his revered reputation and could no longer justify wielding the butcher’s blade by deeds alone, he began to doubt whether he should lay it down.

But before he could decide, Mohe Wuliang revealed his true nature.

Ding Xingfeng’s first thought was to kill.

Yet others only saw him slay the “Buddha’s Disciple and Holy Master” Nie Xu.

The Qingman shaman’s disguise was flawless.

Thereafter, Martial Saint Ding Xingfeng became a despised villain, his reputation destroyed, scorned by all.

If killing villains was wrong, should he kill the righteous instead?

For many years in hiding, he was tormented by inner demons, half-mad and delirious.

Even now, he seemed unable to move forward.

After much thought, only one path remained—

To kill the still-hidden Mohe Wuliang in Qingman.

Gu Fangchen’s cryptic talk had led Ding Xingfeng to believe his earlier mention of “destiny” was mere nonsense.

But now he realized Gu Fangchen was serious.

Ding Xingfeng sat down, raised a cup of water, and took a sip.

He looked up, meeting the gaze of this youth who had once seemed insignificant as an ant.

“Mohe Wuliang is a second-rank divine saint. It seems you intend to take a great many things from me.”

Gu Fangchen took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift from his heart.

The night wind blew, chilling his soaked clothes, but he dared not relax for a moment.

From this moment onward, the real story was just beginning.