Feng Zikang forced his focus inward; this was merely an illusion of the mind, utterly unreal. He swept his hand out, sending the scrolls tumbling to the floor, where they instantly morphed into hissing, writhing venomous snakes.
The King’s expression darkened. “Immortal Master, you show such discourtesy! We have treated you with the utmost hospitality, yet you spurn our kindness and dare to violate the sanctity of our inner quarters! Guards!”
He bellowed, and suddenly, legions of soldiers poured in from nowhere, surrounding Feng Zikang in a tight ring. They charged forward fearlessly, wielding blades and spears against him.
Feng Zikang let out a cold laugh. A flash of sword light cleaved through the air, severing countless heads. Seizing the momentum, he stepped onto the beam of sword light, blasting a gaping hole through the roof, and shot out into the open sky.
His mind was perfectly clear now. He knew all of this was merely an illusion, not worth getting entangled in. The urgent matter was finding the path out of this phantasm. As he sped away from the palace, his eye caught sight of Luo Lianxin squatting on the roadside, hugging her knees, clad in simple blue cloth. An old crone stood beside her, raining down torrents of abuse.
Feng Zikang was greatly puzzled. With Luo Lianxin’s profound cultivation, there was no reason she should suffer public verbal assault. Could this truly be an illusion? His thoughts stirred, and he focused his spiritual sense to observe. By every sensory feeling, this cloth-clad woman was indistinguishable from Luo Lianxin.
No, could I have been ensnared by the illusion?
Feng Zikang inwardly recoiled. It was certainly a possibility. This illusion was terrifyingly potent; were it not for his own surging demonic thoughts and his embodiment as the Formless Heavenly Demon, he too might have been led astray.
He silently lowered his sword light, landing near the edge of the crowd. He could still hear the old woman’s incessant tirade:
“Look at my daughter-in-law, is she not utterly rebellious and unfilial? Heavens! Why don’t you open your eyes and strike this wicked wretch dead with a bolt of lightning? She is destined to bring doom to her husband! The moment the bright red bridal sedan chair entered our Wang family home, before the rites were even concluded, my little Xuanzi was dead! Isn't that proof she’s a bringer of misfortune?”
“When she worked for Steward Lin in the great manor, doing mending work that could have supplemented our income, she was inherently lazy. She went for two days and then claimed the work was too hard, refusing to return! What a disgrace!”
“She is unfilial to her mother-in-law! I am so old, and I can’t even get a mouthful of dry rice—it’s all gruel! Are you trying to starve your mother-in-law to death, you wretch!”
The onlookers murmured incessantly, and Feng Zikang listened clearly.
This woman had married into the Wang family, but the wedding hadn't even been completed when her nominal husband passed away. Being gentle and submissive, she had remained a wangmen gua (a bride whose marriage was unconsummated due to the groom’s death), toiling daily and serving her mother-in-law. In the neighborhood, her reputation had remained quite good.
“I never thought Steward Luo would have such a daughter,” one whispered.
“It seems knowing a person’s face is easy, but knowing their heart is impossible!”
Today, however, with her mother-in-law cursing her, the neighbors’ perspective shifted entirely. They began gossiping amongst themselves, their faces filled with contempt.
Feng Zikang frowned. This woman was indeed named Luo Lianxin, but she was a native of this Moon Clan City. Her father was the scholar Steward Luo of the West Street, who had died of illness only half a year prior. This woman had been married into the Wang family for three years.
Is this truly Luo Lianxin, or just an illusion?
Doubt flooded Feng Zikang’s heart. He couldn't tell if he was lost in fantasy, or if Luo Lianxin was trapped in the phantasm.
Then, he heard the old woman shriek, “I don’t want this daughter-in-law anymore! Whoever pays a few strings of copper coins can buy her off!”
By the customs of this region, once a woman married into the husband’s family, if she was unfilial and her husband had died, the mother-in-law had the right to sell her off.
Luo Lianxin’s face turned ashen. She hastily kowtowed, begging for mercy, clinging to the old woman’s leg. “Mother, you cannot sell me! If I leave, who will serve you?”
“Who wants your service!”
The old woman kicked her leg away and shouted her sales pitch loudly.
Luo Lianxin was quite beautiful, and at first, the neighbors were hesitant. But seeing the old woman’s resolve, some began to show interest, and several people started calling out bids. Luo Lianxin grew even more terrified, her delicate eyes brimming with tears.
“I bid forty strings!”
The neighbors, who had only been offering meager sums of three or five strings, were dissatisfied when suddenly a loud voice called out, and someone squeezed through the crowd.
The old woman turned, her face lighting up with joy. “Oh! Steward Lin, why have you graced us with your presence?”
The newcomer was short and stout, shaped like a round ball—Steward Lin, the city’s wealthiest man. The moment he appeared, Luo Lianxin’s face contorted in horror.
“No, no, Mother, you cannot sell me to—to him!”
“Pah!” The old woman spat on her face. “He has the money to buy you! What business is it of yours?”
She turned back, smiling warmly at Steward Lin. “Steward Lin, forty strings for a young beauty like this—isn't that a bit low?”
Steward Lin waved his hand dismissively. “Then make it fifty strings, Old Wang. Don't be too greedy!”
The old woman was overjoyed, thanking him profusely as she accepted the money and dragged Luo Lianxin toward Steward Lin. “Steward Lin, take this wretched girl off my hands!”
Steward Lin roared with laughter, bending over with a look of vile lust plastered across his face. “Well? Little lady? You wouldn’t yield to me at my manor a few days ago, and now you’ve fallen right into my grasp? Be good and comply, and there will be benefits for you!”
“Hush!” A gasp rippled through the crowd.
The old woman had just mentioned Luo Lianxin going to Steward Lin’s manor to do mending, claiming she was lazy and unwilling to work. Now, it seemed, she had suffered an assault, and only refused out of self-preservation—a fault one couldn't entirely blame her for.
The old woman felt a pang of guilt but still puffed out her chest, entirely unconcerned.
“Mother, you’ve gone too far! How could you sell your sister-in-law?” Just then, a small girl, perhaps ten years old, with bright almond eyes and rosy cheeks, rushed out from the house. “She runs errands all day just so we can have a bowl of thin gruel to eat, while she gnaws on roots herself. How can you still blame her?”
In her tiny hand, she held a bowl of greenish, murky gruel—likely Luo Lianxin’s dinner. It was hard to imagine how anyone could eat such a thing.
The crowd erupted. They had already held a favorable opinion of Luo Lianxin and were skeptical of the rumors. This sudden revelation completely overturned their judgment, sparking immediate unrest.
“What’s all the noise about?”
Steward Lin glared. “You commoners! Dare to cause trouble again, and I’ll issue warrants to have you all arrested! This is the Wang family’s business, it has nothing to do with me. Now I am taking my maid home; clear the path immediately!”
The onlookers fell silent. While they sympathized with the young wife, no one dared provoke Steward Lin. They could only restrain their anger and silently open a path. The little girl’s lower lip quivered, and she burst into loud sobs.
Steward Lin flashed a lecherous smile and bent down again, reaching out to cup Luo Lianxin’s face. “My dear, let’s be on our way!”
Swoosh!
It was the sound of sword qi slicing the heavens. Before Steward Lin could react, his hand, just inches from touching Luo Lianxin’s face, was chopped clean off with a snap.
A sharp severing blow!
“Ahhh! Ahhh!” Steward Lin clutched his severed wrist, howling like a slaughtered pig. Looking up, he saw a dark-robed youth with an icy expression stepping forward to support Luo Lianxin.
“You, you—who are you? How dare you harm me?”
Luo Lianxin’s expression was dazed, her beautiful eyes fixed on Feng Zikang, frozen in place.
“Where did this wild man come from!”
The old woman hadn’t seen Steward Lin’s hand fall off at first. Driven by the fifty strings of coins, she lunged forward, but before she could reach them, she saw a pool of blood at her daughter-in-law’s feet—Steward Lin’s hand was still twitching in the crimson puddle. Her face instantly turned deathly pale, and her voice choked off.
Feng Zikang didn't even spare her a glance. He chuckled coldly. “I’ve bought this woman. The price is your life. Do you sell?”
“What the hell are you?” Steward Lin cursed, still defiant.
Swoosh!
Another streak of white sword light flashed. With a thud, his other hand fell. Steward Lin hadn't even registered the movement; staring at his bare wrists, he was momentarily stunned, forgetting even to cry out in pain.
“Sell, or not sell?”
Feng Zikang had no patience for further words. He pulled Luo Lianxin up.
This time, all the onlookers saw clearly: the young man had casually flicked his wrist, and Steward Lin’s hand was gone.
How powerful!
Most people were awestruck, filled with both reverence and fear, their faces pale, daring not to speak or even draw a full breath.
“Sell, sell, sell, sell!”
Steward Lin finally knew when to submit. He collapsed to the ground, whimpering miserably. Feng Zikang sneered, taking Luo Lianxin’s arm. A faint blush crossed her cheek, but her gaze was full of longing, and she offered no resistance.
Feng Zikang summoned his sword light, pulling Luo Lianxin upward, and they soared away.
The crowd cried out in unison, “It’s an immortal! An immortal saved the Wang family’s young wife!”
The old woman stared blankly, unable to believe her eyes. By the time they were far away, Steward Lin managed to scramble up, having wet his trousers, trembling uncontrollably.
“Senior Sister, do you truly not remember who you are?”
Feng Zikang frowned at Luo Lianxin, who seemed to have lost all memory. He flew her over Moon Clan City to a secluded spot in the outskirts. Along the way, she had been perfectly obedient, like a quiet wife, offering no resistance and speaking no words.
It was only after he asked her several times that she finally spoke.
“If you don’t know who I am, why did you come with me?”
Feng Zikang sighed. In this illusion, Luo Lianxin was a gentle and quiet young wife. Though his entrance had been violent, she had followed him without question or surprise.
“This is my dream, so what’s wrong with that?” Luo Lianxin’s eyes were distant, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I’ve had this dream since I was a child. In the dream, I am a Sword Immortal of the heavens, all-powerful. What’s so strange about that?”
“A dream?” Feng Zikang offered a wry smile. You are the one dreaming now!
“Have you never considered that the things in the dream might be the reality? That you, here as Steward Wang’s wife, might be the dream within a dream?”
Luo Lianxin looked lost. “My dream of being a Sword Immortal is not a dream, but being Steward Wang’s wife is a dream? Then how am I supposed to know when I am dreaming and when I am not? Is it the Wang family wife dreaming she became a Sword Immortal, or is it the Sword Immortal dreaming she became the Wang family wife?”
Zhuangzi dreamt he was a butterfly; which is true, which is false?
Her question suddenly made Feng Zikang feel bewildered as well.
He was the Formless Heavenly Demon, yet also a military disciple. In his past life, he was a passionate youth. How could he prove which reality was the true one?
Could his entire life and struggle merely be a fabrication?
Perhaps he was currently lying in a small bed, dreaming he was slaughtering foes everywhere, only to wake up and have to lug his textbooks to school?
Or perhaps he was still in the cold beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, dreaming of the warmth of the mortal world?