I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 27
Sage Yipin and Changkong Zhuoyu discussed for a long time, but they still couldn’t figure out how Changkong Zhuoyu had been able to draw the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure in one go, because it was simply an impossible event. Even if Changkong Zhuoyu were the reincarnation of a transcended immortal from Mount Shu undergoing a tribulation, at most he could wield one sword, because the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure each had their own master, Zhou Qingyun and Li Yingqiong, and only recognized their respective owners. Even if someone was the master of one sword, they couldn’t control the other.
{Transcended Immortal — a cultivator who survived (transcended) the ascension tribulation and became an immortal in Heaven. To progress their cultivation further some immortals reincarnate as humans and undergo tribulations — unlike the detached immortals, humans have desires and emotions which can be used as a basis for spirit tempering trials.}
So in the end, it could only be explained that the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure sensed Mount Shu’s crisis and, borrowing Changkong Zhuoyu’s hand, resolved the calamity.
Changkong Zhuoyu planned to rest a few more days, and leave once Li Xinglun consolidated his cultivation with Mount Shu’s spiritual veins. Sage Yipin, having finally found someone he could spar with, warmly persuaded Changkong Zhuoyu to stay longer. Unable to refuse such hospitality, the master and disciple decided to remain at Mount Shu for a few more days.
Once they returned to their room, before Changkong Zhuoyu could speak, Li Xinglun spoke up first: “Master, I suspect you’re the reincarnation of a transcended immortal from Mount Shu.”
Changkong Zhuoyu nodded in deep agreement, growing more and more fond of his disciple, and said with delight, “My disciple is right. I think so too. Otherwise, why would I, clearly the Kunlun sect master, have such superb swordsmanship? Turns out I’ve remembered the sword techniques from my past life. It’s a strange twist of fate — I should have been a Mount Shu disciple, but unexpectedly became the Kunlun sect master. If I hadn’t come to Mount Shu this time, I would have almost missed the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure.”
Though Li Xinglun was convinced that Changkong Zhuoyu was definitely not the swords’ master, he still nodded in cooperation, listening to his master muse about his identity once more.
“For such a situation to occur, it proves I was surely reincarnated to resolve the mortal realm’s great calamity!” Changkong Zhuoyu thought for a long time before concluding. “Whenever there is a disaster in the mortal realm, an immortal lord who takes upon himself the duty of solving this calamity is reincarnated. I now have Kunlun’s resources, have recalled my previous life’s techniques after surviving a deadly tribulation, and even have some insights into divine formations. I can counter nearly all demonic beings — I must be someone destined for a great mission!”
Li Xinglun picked up the spirit fruits Mount Shu had prepared for them, eating while listening to Changkong Zhuoyu imagine how he would sweep through the world and save all living beings, and suddenly felt his master’s words actually made some sense.
“That’s why I felt a connection the moment I saw you and insisted on taking you as my disciple — it must be because you harbor some great secret for vanquishing demons.”
Huh? This time his master’s speculation actually included him. Li Xinglun put down the fruit and listened attentively to Changkong Zhuoyu’s analysis.
“When the Kunlun divine formation was broken and demonic energy leaked out, some cultivators turned demonic. Logically, the first targets of their attacks should have been those most threatening to their future occupation of the mortal realm. Yet the Li family was struck first — there must be some reason for that,” Changkong Zhuoyu said solemnly. “Disciple, you may carry a great secret.”
For the first time, Li Xinglun didn’t think his master’s words were wild conjecture, and seriously pondered the question. He rubbed the thumb ring on his finger, leaned closer to Changkong Zhuoyu, and whispered in his ear: “I think we can test this idea.”
“How?”
“I’ve heard demonic cultivators have methods to control others through bloodlines,” Li Xinglun clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking. “I still remember some of my female cousins were captured by them.”
Those cousins were only at the Qi Refinement stage — so weak they could be defeated even by ordinary martial artists. Being taken away by those people for so long, who knew how much they had suffered, or if they were even alive.
When Li Xinglun escaped from the Soul-Breaking Gorge, he had wanted to rescue them, but back then his cultivation was low and his appearance unchanged. Although Changkong Zhuoyu was powerful, he didn’t understand the cultivation world at all. If the two of them had rushed in, they likely would both have fallen into enemy hands, and then no one could have avenged the Li family.
Moreover, Li Xinglun hadn’t even known who had massacred the entire Li family, leaving him nowhere to start.
Now they knew it was those who had turned demonic, and this was no longer just a Li family matter. If they encountered danger, they could call upon the righteous sects for help. The master and disciple now had some reputation among the righteous sects, and with Changkong Zhuoyu’s current identity, Kunlun surely wouldn’t stand idly by.
Revenge seemed easier than he’d imagined.
While Li Xinglun was lost in thought, he felt Changkong Zhuoyu grasp his hand, prying open his clenched fist and rubbing some crushed spirit pills into his palm.
Looking down, he realized that, without noticing, his fingernails had dug into his palm until it was bloody, yet he hadn’t even felt the pain.
Such minor external wounds naturally healed quickly with medicine. Changkong Zhuoyu nagged at him, “Even though your martial uncle gave us plenty of spirit pills this time, that doesn’t mean we should waste them. I won’t get hurt, but your cultivation is low, so you might. Save them — we’re still poor.”
As Changkong Zhuoyu spoke, a strand of hair fell from his ear. In a daze, Li Xinglun saw his own hand reaching out by its own accord and tucking the loose strand back.
Originally, Changkong Zhuoyu’s hair had been loose, cascading like a waterfall and making him seem like a distant immortal. But now, to (falsely) prove himself as Sect Master Yin, he’d tied his hair into a topknot, revealing his entire face, making him look obedient and somewhat excessively beautiful.
Li Xinglun didn’t know why, but after tucking the hair, his hand lingered on Changkong Zhuoyu’s face, feeling the smooth, jade-like warmth, unable to pull it away.
He licked his lips and spoke: “Master…”
As soon as he spoke, he realized his voice was hoarse beyond recognition.
“What is it?” Changkong Zhuoyu naturally grasped the hand Li Xinglun had placed on his face. From the start, their conversations often relied on writing in each other’s palms, so Changkong Zhuoyu didn’t mind holding hands and was quite used to it.
Li Xinglun didn’t even know what he wanted to say — everything seemed to happen as if beyond his control. Hearing Changkong Zhuoyu speak snapped him back a bit, and shifting his gaze from his master’s face, he quickly thought and said: “You look better in white.”
Earlier, when sparring with Elder Yin, Changkong Zhuoyu’s robe had turned a blue Daoist robe, losing some of its ethereal quality and gaining solemnity. Now, hearing Li Xinglun’s comment, he finally noticed the color and decisively agreed: “My disciple is right. Although I was once Kunlun’s sect master and needed to maintain dignity, now I’m investigating in secret under a hidden identity, so it should be different from the past — white is better.”
Having spoken, his robe color changed, though his hairstyle remained the same. After all, letting his hair down was inconvenient, and this was more comfortable.
Li Xinglun showed a faint smile, having long noticed his master’s fondness for beauty.
He loved gazing at beautiful things in the world, wanted whatever others had, was fiercely competitive, and always chose the best… Clearly, Changkong Zhuoyu was full of flaws, yet his frankness and sincerity made him seem especially endearing.
Like a mischievous yet kind child, making people want to pinch his nose.
Li Xinglun clenched his restless fingers, hiding the strange flutter in his heart, and finally asked the question that had long lingered in his mind: “It’s already certain you’re not Xue Qianjie. Why then, back in Hundred Flowers sect, were you able to instantly imitate his manner, even deceiving the sect master and elders of Hundred Flowers sect?”
He’d wanted to ask this before, but at that time Changkong Zhuoyu still believed he was Xue Qianjie and couldn’t be questioned. Now that he was Yin Changkong, he could ask. And when he was no longer Yin Changkong, he could ask why he could so accurately imitate the Kunlun sect master.
“Well…” Changkong Zhuoyu clearly hadn’t thought about this question before.
Seeing his eyes flicker, Li Xinglun knew he was making up a story again and understood that his master didn’t really know either, so he gave up asking.
He was about to meditate and enter seclusion to stabilize his cultivation before leaving Mount Shu. But unexpectedly, Changkong Zhuoyu suddenly asked: “Disciple, do you think Xue Qianjie, after a thousand years in the demon realm, is still alive?”
For some reason, Li Xinglun’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, his chest tightening. He remembered that man on the mountaintop, when entrusting his iron sword to guard the mortal realm, had looked at him as if entrusting him personally.
“I don’t know,” Li Xinglun shook his head. “But I hope he is.”
“So do I.” Changkong Zhuoyu pressed his hand to his chest as he spoke. “Strange, why does it feel like something is pressing here, making it hard to breathe? Are there still people in this world who can suppress me? Besides, my Turtle Breathing Technique is quite good — I could hold my breath for a month or two, so why do I feel suffocated?”
As he spoke, tears slipped down again uncontrollably.
“How strange.” Changkong Zhuoyu caught the tears as if they were something unfamiliar.
Li Xinglun’s heart ached, remembering how back at Hundred Flowers sect, when Changkong Zhuoyu saw Xue Qianjie’s portrait, he had also been unable to hold back his tears.
Despite the sourness in his chest, Li Xinglun still said, “Master, I think… you and Xue Qianjie may have a very deep connection.”
Otherwise, why would someone who couldn’t even draw spiritual energy into their body weep the moment they saw that man’s portrait?
For the first time, confusion flickered in Changkong Zhuoyu’s eyes. “But I am Yin Changkong, the leader of the righteous sects. Our lifespans are completely different — how could I have any connection with him? Unless I knew him in a past life… it’s possible. A transcended immortal reincarnated and rebuilding cultivation, with ties to the demonic cultivator Xue Qianjie.”
Li Xinglun suppressed the sourness that almost overflowed from his nose and mouth, completely unable to understand why he felt such an unpleasant, unnamable discomfort.
“Ah!” Changkong Zhuoyu suddenly realized. “Sage Yipin once said the previous masters of the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure were the heroines Zhou Qingyun and Li Yingqiong, precisely two thousand years ago… Could it be that I, who was female in a past life, truly once had a forbidden immortal–demon romance with Xue Qianjie, which is why he left such a deep impression on me?”
Li Xinglun: “… …”
He felt like coughing up blood.
~ Chapter End ~
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