Chapter 81: The Fate That Began in the Capital

Princess Anping’s Tomb, Second Level.

Ten players sat cross-legged, each summarizing the fragmented information they had gathered in the tomb passages. Taking turns, they narrated the major events of Princess Anping’s life from a first-person perspective.

Since everyone speculated that her life story might be linked to the upcoming quest, they were deeply immersed in the storytelling. The first to speak was the consort, Xu Qingzhao.

Sitting upright, her voice was clear and melodious.

“I am Anping,¹

A princess born in the final years of Jing Dynasty, a time of constant warfare and turmoil.

Before I turned eighteen, I lived within the palace, grew up in the palace—my life was as calm as still water, without a single ripple worth writing about. Even if I wanted to recount something, I wouldn’t know where to begin.

The year I turned eighteen, I met Li Mu again.

It had been three years since our fleeting encounter in Qinglian Village.

For some reason, that day remains vivid in my memory—the sight of him clad in white, drinking strong liquor, and departing with his sword.

Men like him did not exist in the palace, nor in the imperial court. In the three years since, I found myself recalling him from time to time in moments of distraction.

The year we met again, it was spring, when the flowers were in full bloom.

Huang Zi, a swordsman from the southern frontiers, had been staying in the Capital for over three months. He boldly challenged Li Mu, who was known as ‘The Number One Sword of Sichuan.’

This drew countless scholars, nobles, swordsmen, and wanderers from across the land to the Capital, all eager to witness the duel that would decide the greatest sword immortal under heaven.

That day, my imperial brother and I ascended Wangxi Tower, gazing over the imperial city. The long street beyond the walls was packed with people, a scene of immense excitement.

It was said that Huang Zi had risen to fame ten years ago, wielding the legendary sword Lingyun to defeat countless masters. Yet, for some reason, he had never set foot in Sichuan.

Rumors swirled in the martial world—so long as Li Mu still drew breath, Huang Zi dared not enter Sichuan, nor unsheathe his sword to the north.

And so, after three years of preparation, Huang Zi arrived in the Capital, publicly declaring his challenge to Li Mu.

Jing Dynasty revered martial prowess, and the martial world was thriving—many viewed fame and honor as their very lifeblood.

Over three months passed, yet Li Mu never issued a response. However, many brought word of his movements, claiming he was en route to the capital and would pass through today.

At sunrise, Huang Zi stepped onto the dueling platform and waited. Now, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, Li Mu had yet to appear.

My imperial brother grew impatient, as did the countless spectators thronging the streets… Even I began to lose interest.

Had Li Mu lost his nerve? Did he not dare to accept the challenge?

Just as my imperial brother and I prepared to leave Wangxi Tower and return to the palace, he finally appeared.

I remember it clearly—he still wore white, his steps unsteady, supported by three friends, his breath reeking of alcohol.

Was this not supposed to be a duel for the title of the Greatest Under Heaven? A battle that would shake all of Jing Dynasty?

Why had he come drunk?

I could not understand.

From the south end of the long street, he swayed and stumbled, utterly ignoring the gathered spectators, the dueling platform, and even Huang Zi, who had waited an entire day. He simply passed by, as though he had entirely forgotten that he was supposed to be the protagonist of this moment.

As he neared the dueling platform, Huang Zi, who had waited since dawn, finally lost his patience.

‘Sword Immortal of Sichuan, come forth and face me!’

Li Mu paused, squinting, and lazily asked, ‘Who is this sword immortal you speak of?’

Huang Zi had no interest in wordplay. ‘Li Mu, do you intend to flee from this battle?’

Li Mu unfastened the liquor flask at his waist, took a long swig, then grinned.

‘Flee? And what if I win today? And what if I lose?’

Huang Zi, brimming with arrogance and sharp as a honed blade, showed no fear of this life-and-death duel. ‘I have never stepped into Sichuan solely to preserve your title of sword immortal. But today, I will claim your name and ascend to the pinnacle myself!’

The street fell silent. My imperial brother and I rose from our seats, standing atop the high tower, holding our breath in anticipation.

Then, to everyone’s shock, Li Mu took another swig of liquor—

And with a casual toss, discarded the three-foot-long sword he had wielded for over a decade onto the dueling platform, as though it were nothing more than a broken tool.

‘Ha!’

‘I leave the name and the glory to you. I’ll keep the peach pastries and the strong wine for myself.’

He laughed, speaking those words, and, supported by his three friends, staggered off into the city—right before the eyes of thousands.

The duel that had captured the world’s attention ended with Li Mu walking away without ever drawing his sword.

Disappointed, the spectators dispersed.

Even my imperial brother, and that detestable Wang Tong, son of the grand chancellor, sneered, ‘Spineless. A mere fame-seeker.’

They were, of course, speaking of Li Mu.

I, too, was disappointed, perplexed—but above all, intrigued.

Li Mu was not merely a swordsman, but a scholar. Scholars guarded their reputations as fiercely as their lives.

Was he truly unafraid of the world’s scorn? Unafraid that the prestige he had built over half a lifetime would vanish in an instant?

After that day, a saying spread through the land—

“Sichuan has no martial world. Sichuan’s swordsmen do not head south.”

That night, I returned to the palace, still unable to comprehend his actions.

Though he had disappointed me, I realized something—

The memory of this moment had imprinted itself upon me, far deeper than our fleeting encounter three years ago in Qinglian Village.

“I leave the name and the glory to you. I’ll keep the peach pastries and the strong wine for myself.”

Was he truly afraid to fight?

Or did he simply disdain the battle itself?

As I recalled my father mentioning his plans to wed me to Wang Tong, my heart grew even more restless.

I longed to speak with someone about it—perhaps even to take a long drink of strong liquor myself…

Night fell without sleep, and I couldn’t help but want to see him for myself.”

Without haste, her melodious and graceful voice faded away.

Xu Qingzhao lifted her head, her gaze sweeping across the crowd. “The story of Princess Anping’s life that I have seen ends here.”

“Cough, cough.”

Imperial Inspector Liu came to his senses and crudely commented, “Li Mu is quite the pretender. Though, he does have some style. If you made me say those two lines in public, I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.”

Xu Qingzhao gave him a cold look. “If he were an ordinary person, how could he make Princess Anping fall for him?”

“Hmph.”

Imperial Inspector Liu sneered, “A fangirl, huh?”

Upon hearing this, Tang Feng became displeased. “What do you mean, fangirl? She’s a princess, not someone who would fall for a handsome face, a talented man, or a famous person. Would she fall for a disgusting scoundrel like you, with your three-meter chest hair, unbrushed teeth, and filthy language?”

“I don’t have culture, so what?” Imperial Inspector Liu’s eyes showed a reckless bravado. “You want a fight? Do you want a fight?”

“We’re in the Princess’s tomb, so you’d better keep your mouth shut.” The horsekeeper No. 6 looked at Imperial Inspector Liu. “You’d better not drag everyone into trouble.”

Imperial Inspector Liu blinked, then glanced cautiously at the gloomy tomb passage. Seeing no immediate trouble, he said nothing more.

“I’m kind of confused now,” No. 3 Xing Tao furrowed his brow and said in a low voice. “In general, royal tombs in ancient times have very brief records of the deceased’s life. Why is Princess Anping’s so long, and it reads more like an autobiography or a love story?”

Nearby, Ren Ye had been pondering the same thing, but after careful thought, he realized that since the Star Gate was set up this way, it meant… there was likely crucial information hidden in Princess Anping’s life story, buried within the words. It just needed to be uncovered.

…

In Mr. Lu’s Star Gate.

After much thought, Mr. He shook his head and said, “I’m afraid… it’s very difficult to find that writer. If he really went through a life-and-death mission stage, he’s probably already in the Star Gate. The higher the mission stage, the longer it takes, sometimes even three to five years.”

Mr. Lu sat on the edge of the well, took another sip of well water, and asked, “Do you know why I called you here today?”

“I’ve guessed.” Mr. He nodded immediately. “I’ve been taking care of Yao Sen for three years. You want to use him?”

“He has a very rare item, doesn’t he?” Mr. Lu asked.

“Yes, that item can indeed ‘steal,'” Mr. He added. “You called me because of my special ability, ‘Actor’s Exit,’ which can be used for a second evacuation, right?”

Mr. Lu nodded and pointed at him. “Send Yao Sen to the Capital,² and you wait outside to assist. I don’t know if the second act in Qingliang Prefecture is the final chapter, but we need to pave the way before Ren Ye comes out.”

“No problem,” Mr. He nodded immediately. “I’ll talk to Yao Sen and hope he’s willing to take on this task.”

“Isn’t he still unwilling to join the Bell Society?” Mr. Lu asked. “If he were willing, with that item alone, he’d at least be a Golden Bell.”

Mr. He shook his head.

“Sigh, then we’ll take it slow. You must convince him to go to the Capital.”

“I’ll try my best.”

After their conversation, Mr. He took his leave.

Mr. Lu grabbed a hoe and shouted towards the yard outside, “Keep singing to calm the heart.”

“Once, I wandered aimlessly,

On the dark road of night…!”

The group of women sang even more cheerfully.

A farm, a garden, healthy vegetables, refreshing well water, and a group of women who could croon—Mr. Lu’s peaceful life was the dream of many men!

…

On the high-speed train.

“This train will arrive in the Capital in five minutes. Please, passengers who are getting off…!”

The announcement came on, and Ren Qingning yawned, removed her eye mask, and sleepily asked, “We’re getting off, right?”

“Mm,” Ren Daguo slowly nodded and lovingly handed her a bottle of water. “Drink a little, hydrate your throat.”

“Thank you.” Ren Qingning smiled and turned to Yan Duoduo. “Boss, can we move freely while we’re in the Capital?”

“What’s up?” Yan Duoduo asked.

“I’ve arranged to meet a friend, we might hang out for two days,” Ren Qingning fixed her messy hair and, with a playful tone, said, “But I promise, I won’t cause any trouble for the organization.”

Upon hearing this, Yan Duoduo furrowed his brow. “When you say two days of fun, does that mean you won’t be staying at the reception hotel?”

“Mm!” Ren Qingning nodded.

“Now that you mention it, I remember two fellow travelers wanted me to join them for drinks,” Ren Daguo also glanced at Yan Duoduo while picking up his luggage.

…

In Shanghai.

The fraudulent merchant boss, who had once been tricked by Ren Ye and Huang Wei, was now holding the phone, standing in the airport lobby. “Yes, hurry up and check the information on that actor. Mm-hmm, the boss is anxious…”