"There is a place whispered to exist, called 'Li Jing'; perhaps in that place, you might uncover the true origins of the Mohists and the Ghost Valley School. Everything now rests on your fortune." As he spoke, Mo Yi managed a smile, though it was steeped in profound misery. Great gulps of bright blood surged from his mouth onto the ground; the poison was clearly beyond his control.

"Senior." Ye Xiu steadied Mo Yi, yet all he could do was support him on this final journey.

Mo Yi's entire body began to convulse, his eyes wide and staring. One hand thrashed uselessly in the air, trying to grasp something. "Keep the Mozi Sword and the token safe. This is all destiny. Perhaps only you can reopen the legendary Li Jing."

"Senior!" This was the first time Ye Xiu had witnessed someone he revered die before his eyes. An ocean of pain and hatred flooded his heart. For the first time, thoughts of vengeance took root, and a fierce, destructive energy began to surround him.

"Hand over the Mozi Sword and the token, or I will leave you with no corpse to claim." It was Mo Yi’s Eldest Martial Brother, Mo Fei, who had finally arrived with the other disciples in pursuit.

Ye Xiu gently lowered Mo Yi’s body, turning to face the newcomers. The entire beach was now encircled by the Mohist faction. He knew he had long run out of options. Shouldering the two swords, he stared coldly at the scene. A desperate battle was now inevitable.

"You court death. Disciples, form the array!" Mo Fei, ever the treacherous villain, not only poisoned his blade but was also skilled in using sword formations to crush foes, willing to sacrifice his own disciples to achieve his goals. "Thousand-Faced Sun Glare Array!"

At Mo Fei's sharp command, the disciples simultaneously raised their swords in unison, standing in a long, precise line. Just then, the midday sun crested the horizon, and the swords in their hands, combined with their formation, perfectly reflected the blinding glare directly onto Ye Xiu. In an instant, Ye Xiu was enveloped by countless beams of light, utterly unable to discern east from west.

"Kill!" Seeing the first maneuver of the formation take devastating effect, the disciples surged forward, intending to take Ye Xiu down immediately. However, even though Ye Xiu could no longer judge direction with his naked eye, his footwork remained exceptionally sharp.

Wielding both swords, he cut wildly into the throng, scattering the ranks. Once the reflected light beams vanished, he swung his blades, impaling any close targets. Though they were wooden swords, their sheer impact was enough to make the disciples cry out in agony.

"Turn!" Mo Fei suddenly roared from outside the formation. The disciples instantly closed ranks around Ye Xiu, continuously spinning their swords—some to attack, others to redirect the blinding sunlight straight into Ye Xiu’s eyes.

Ye Xiu had not anticipated this evolution of the formation. A wave of dizziness washed over him. In his panic, he heard the sound of blades closing in from all directions. Though he leaped high into the air, he could not escape being deeply slashed several times, leaving him instantly covered in blood.

"Break!" Mo Fei bellowed again, and in the next moment, he himself soared into the air, launching a sword thrust toward Ye Xiu. The disciples were not idle either; they immediately began rotating their swords beneath Ye Xiu’s arc of ascent, once again shrouding him in a deadly net of refracted light.

Ye Xiu had nowhere to dodge, and Mo Fei was a master of the highest caliber; the speed of that thrust was terrifying. Although Ye Xiu had managed to cross both swords horizontally to guard his chest, his abdomen was pierced clean through by Mo Fei. After gliding through the air for a short distance together, Ye Xiu was pinned hard against a sea stone behind them.

"Young fool, you brought this upon yourself." Mo Fei, capable of murdering his own brethren, certainly wouldn't spare a minor figure like Ye Xiu. He violently wrenched his sword from Ye Xiu's gut, and fresh blood sprayed out, staining the entire ground crimson.

At the threshold of death, Ye Xiu could only watch as the blood dripping from his hands slowly coated the Muzi Sword and the Mozi Sword, dyeing them a deep, wet red. He cursed his own carelessness; these martial sword formations were entirely different from the esoteric arts of Ghost Valley. To die now within the "Thousand-Faced Sun Glare Array" was deeply galling. Must the one who carries the origins of both Mohism and Ghost Valley perish here?

A faint smile touched Mo Fei’s lips. With this final strike, he could seize the Mohist ultimate treasure and command the entire school. All his desires might be realized after this single blow.

The sky slowly returned to its clear azure, but the beach beneath the sun remained a scene of hell on earth.

Enduring the pain, Ye Xiu buried Mo Yi among a pile of stones and said coldly, "Senior Mo Yi, our meeting seems to have injected other elements into this chaotic age. What began as a struggle for dominance over the world is now turning into a recollection of the origins binding Mohism and Ghost Valley."

Ye Xiu tilted his head back, turned, and picked up the long, black sword. It was still a wooden sword, utterly unremarkable—the only difference from the prior Muzi Sword was that the two strange dragons were no longer merely etched alongside the blade; they were deeply imprinted upon its surface, burned into its very core. "Destiny. This must be destiny." He thought he heard Mo Yi’s faint sigh echoing from the void. He pulled out the Mozi Seal and the Ghost Valley Seal hidden in his chest, juggling them lightly. "Rest assured, Senior Mo Yi, I will find this place called Li Jing, and I will end the mystery of Mohism and Ghost Valley. As for this sword…"

Ye Xiu swayed slightly, hoisting the sword onto his shoulder and walking away. He had already decided on a name for this weapon: "Tian Yi"—Heaven's Will.

...

The scent of the sea breeze no longer carried the taint of blood; these days were marked by clear blue skies.

Ye Xiu finally traveled eastward, arriving at the coast of the Eastern Sea, gazing across the water at Penglai Island in the distance. What struck him as odd was the complete absence of boatmen or any fishing vessels. Could Penglai truly be an island of immortals, inaccessible to mortals? With no other recourse—the East Sea shore being desolate, miles from any village or shop—Ye Xiu was forced to build a crude shelter of stones on the beach.

He resolved to wait. He thought that if Zhang Liang could encounter the Lord of the Eastern Sea, surely he could too. This conviction felt as reckless as his usual habit of never studying until just before an exam, secure in the belief that his inherent ability would ensure he wouldn't fail.

However, while men can sometimes be reckless, fate perhaps is not so haphazard. For three whole days, Ye Xiu waited without seeing any sign of the Lord of the Eastern Sea, or even another soul.

"Damn it." Ye Xiu felt his strength failing; he hadn't eaten pork in days, and his body went weak. He collapsed onto the sand.

"Ow! Damn it!" The moment he fell, he sprang back up. Something had poked him sharply in the lower back.

"What the hell is that?" Ye Xiu grumbled, immediately reaching behind his trousers to fish around in his back pocket. He yanked out a small, slender object.

"Bloody hell, a 2B pencil." Ye Xiu was both startled and thrilled. He hadn't expected this thing to actually recognize its master, returning safely no matter how many times it was thrown. It was an undeniably reliable weapon, but why hadn't it ever appeared during his moments of greatest crisis?

Thinking of this, Ye Xiu's good humor faded. If only he had possessed this object when Liu Bang had tried to ambush him, he could have blown Fan Kuai and those pigs to smithereens. If he had it earlier, would Mo Fei’s idiotic sword formations have ever managed to wound him?

Ye Xiu was at a loss regarding the 2B pencil. But the thought of the mysterious old man who gave it to him brought his attention back to the Lord of the Eastern Sea. Could they be the same person? Ye Xiu felt like shaking his head vigorously even at the thought.

"Right!" Ye Xiu suddenly jumped up in excitement, snatching the pencil and running toward the shore. The seawater was already lapping at his thighs.

He held the 2B pencil in one hand, closed one eye lightly, and used the other to aim precisely at the hazy silhouette of Penglai Island, miles distant. Exactly! If the Lord of the Eastern Sea was some sort of master, or even an immortal, he must live on Penglai. Forget caution—he would use the 2B pencil to bomb his lair. He wouldn't believe the Lord wouldn't come out to meet him then.

"Hmph!" Ye Xiu stuck out his tongue in a cold sneer and hurled the 2B pencil with all his might. Once released, the pencil shot out like an arrow from a drawn bowstring, rocketing forward. But after a long, long time, there was no visible reaction.

"What kind of crap long-range weapon is this?" Ye Xiu was deeply disappointed. "Is this thing only good for blowing up Qin Shi Huang's carriage?" He impatiently continued to stare out at the distant sea. It had been several minutes since he threw the pencil; why was there no explosion? Perhaps Penglai Island was simply too far from the coast!

"Rumble..." At that moment, a faint sound echoed from the distant sky, and the clouds over the sea flickered several times inexplicably.

"Is that it?" Ye Xiu still felt let down. He had imagined that one blast would instantly destroy the Lord of the Eastern Sea's hideout, rendering him powerless.

Just as Ye Xiu was feeling smug, a violent gust of sea wind swept over him. When he cautiously peered out to observe the sea surface, he clearly felt the ground beginning to tremble. Looking farther out, he saw a wave several zhang high surging toward him.

"A tsunami!" Ye Xiu cursed internally and immediately reacted, turning tail without a second thought to run. But how could a man outrun a tsunami? He never imagined that a simple explosion could trigger a tidal wave, or perhaps the power of that 2B pencil was enough to cause an earthquake.

He ran, running for his life. But as the wave behind him neared the beach, a cold dread settled in his heart. This is it; you reap what you sow. "Heaven, please!" Just then, a wisp of purple smoke slowly drifted toward him. When Ye Xiu saw it, a feeling of profound relief washed over him. He abruptly stopped running, turned, and faced the towering wave charging directly at him.