Kidnapping

Lin Qingyan remained silent, simply listening quietly.

Gu Chengyin gazed at the myriad lights of Luodu, continuing:

"If I live, the Green Sword Sect can complete its inheritance.

"If I die, His Majesty will have a justified cause for war.

"For the other cultivation sects, this is a one-way street blocked at both ends.

"So I was thinking, if I were them, what would I do in the face of such a situation?

"Is there any way..."

Gu Chengyin slowed his speech, each word soaked in the night.

"To prevent the Green Sword Sect from completing its inheritance...

"While also not giving His Majesty a justified cause for war?"

Lin Qingyan's eyelashes paused for a moment, but she did not reply.

The answer was too obvious.

Kidnapping.

Not assassination, not an ambush, not any scheme involving bloodshed and death.

It was kidnapping.

Simply find a heinous, wanted criminal; there are too many such people in the martial world, impossible to kill or eradicate completely.

Then pin the blame on them.

The major sects would actively cooperate, perhaps even more enthusiastically than the imperial court.

They would jointly issue bounties, broadly distribute notices throughout the martial world, and dispatch elite disciples to hunt down that atrocious 'kidnapper' all over the world.

As long as Gu Chengyin did not return for a day, the Green Sword Sect's inheritance could not be complete for a day.

As long as the news that he was still alive trickled out from various taverns and teahouses every ten days or a month.

Then Emperor Luo would not have a legitimate reason to dispatch troops for a day.

Gu Chengyin was still alive.

Just not in anyone's sight.

This was a silence more perfect than death.

Death would leave a corpse, leaving behind irrefutable bloodstains for Emperor Luo to use when assigning blame.

But kidnapping was an unresolved thread, the other end tied in the void, incapable of drawing out any definite hatred.

And to achieve all this, the only thing lacking...

Was a public spectacle.

Lin Qingyan's gaze passed over Gu Chengyin's shoulder, swept across the layered eaves of Fan Tower, and pierced through the sleepless lights of Luodu.

To be abducted brazenly under the watchful eyes of everyone, in the most prosperous Luodu, under the protection of countless people, right beside a Golden Core cultivator.

Only then could the blame not be attributed to any party.

Lin Qingyan understood.

Why the first thing Gu Chengyin did upon stepping out of the carriage was to clear Fan Tower.

He had anticipated all this long ago, so he 'invited' all the innocent people out.

And then.

Offered himself as bait.

Lin Qingyan raised her hand.

A very thin layer of pale gold surfaced on her palm, the pulsation of thunder gathering momentum.

That gold spread from the base of her fingers to the tips, passing through the Zhongchong, Guanchong, and Shaochong points, illuminating all the acupoints of the Triple Burner Meridian.

Like stars falling into her meridians, burning into a prairie fire along the way.

Then her palm opened.

The three thousand silk lanterns on the eaves of Fan Tower simultaneously dimmed by three inches; this was the light being suppressed by a more dazzling existence.

A very, very soft hum echoed in the night sky of Luodu, like the thinnest string of an ancient zither being plucked by a piece of ice, the tone clear and dangerous.

Lin Qingyan's eyes narrowed, staring at her palm, and shouted in a low voice:

"Five Thunders Suppress Evil, Break!"

As her words fell, a golden light exploded from Lin Qingyan's palm.

Like the first lightning bolt tearing through the clouds when thunder descends upon the world, it shot from the center to the four poles, every arc of lightning a tempered blade.

Golden thunder patterns wove into an airtight net in the air, with her and Gu Chengyin as the center.

One Zhang, three Zhangs, five Zhangs...

It crashed thunderously outward, beyond Fan Tower, toward the night sky of Luodu, toward the vast starry sky.

Gu Chengyin stood one step behind Lin Qingyan.

He saw the golden thunder surge out like a raging tide, but just as it was about to rush past the eaves of Fan Tower...

It abruptly stopped.

It was blocked.

An invisible barrier quietly surfaced between the thunder and the night sky.

Initially very faint, like newly formed spring ice, almost transparent.

But when the golden thunder struck it, ripples appeared on that transparent surface.

Spreading out in circles, the ripples expanding outward layer by layer, yet never shattering.

The lightning snaked and roamed over the surface of the barrier, seeking every possible fissure, every path that could be penetrated.

Gold and invisibility tangled, bit, and wrestled; the electric arcs shattered into billions of tiny points of light.

Like New Year's Eve fireworks, they bloomed for a moment in the sky above Fan Tower, then immediately extinguished.

The barrier remained entirely still.

Lin Qingyan's eyes grew solemn.

The layer of gold deep in her pupils abruptly sank, shifting from brilliant gold to dark gold, retracting all its sharpness, leaving only killing intent.

"Spiritual power barrier."

She spat out a phrase, her voice steady, without panic, just a statement.

Gu Chengyin looked at this spiritual power barrier.

It was too massive.

The entirety of Fan Tower was completely enveloped within it.

This was not a temporarily laid array.

This was premeditated.

To quietly erect something of such scale in the most prosperous part of Luodu.

It required three people.

It required Golden Cores.

It required lurking here for at least three days and three nights, spiritual power like spider webs, weaving this transparent net inch by inch.

Right at this moment, above Fan Tower.

Three dark figures slowly precipitated from the inner wall of the spiritual power barrier.

First a blurry shadow, then an outline, finally a human form.

From faint to dense, from ethereal to solid.

The three formed a triangular stance, occupying three positions in the sky above the top floor of Fan Tower.

All dressed in black martial attire, not official robes, not sect uniforms, without any identifiable patterns.

Their faces covered by veils of the same color, spiritual power woven into the threads, blurring their facial features into a chaotic darkness.

Their large hoods were pulled very low, not even revealing a sliver of their jawlines.

They did not conceal their aura.

The pressure of three Golden Cores poured down simultaneously, like three invisible mountains pressing toward the top floor of Fan Tower.

Gu Chengyin's breath hitched.

This was colloidalization.

When Golden Core pressure reached its extreme, spiritual power became as viscous as resin, condensing the air into a semi-fluid state.

Every breath he took felt like swallowing melted amber, burning and sluggish.

Lin Qingyan turned slightly sideways, shielding Gu Chengyin behind her.

This movement was very slight; the hem of her skirt barely moved, only her shoulder line shifted by three inches.

But the forearm within her sleeve tightened, the silk pulling into a smooth arc, like a bow drawn fully just before release.

Her hair was blown up by this pressure, a stray strand escaping the binding of her jade hairpin, slowly drifting down beside her cheek.

Because the air had become as thick as honey, that strand of hair took three times as long to reach her shoulder.

Then Lin Qingyan moved; her pupils completely turned gold.

It was the incandescent white at the very core of thunder, compressed to the extreme, the moment just before detonation.

Overflowing from deep within her irises, soaking her entire pupils into two melting suns.

The edges of her irises sharpened like knife blades, every texture a blade tempered by heavenly tribulation.

Golden thunder patterns surfaced around her.

Streak by streak, mark by mark, climbing outward from deep within Lin Qingyan's meridians.

Passing through the Tanzhong, Xuanji, and Tiantu points, spreading along the side of her neck to her jaw, and following the line of her cheek to cover her brow bone.

Those thunder patterns were as complex as ancient seal scripts, every stroke a brand of cultivation reaching the realm of transformation.

Her shawl was lifted by invisible air currents, the silk rolling in the golden lightning like a battle flag.

Lin Qingyan stepped forward, the tip of her foot tapping the ground.

The thunder patterns around her exploded with a bang, and the originally viscous air instantly returned to normal.

Her incandescent white pupils swept over the three black figures one by one.

Then she spoke, but every word carried the lingering resonance of a thunder tribulation, vibrating the inner wall of the barrier into dense ripples.

"Jingzhe of the Celestial Master's Mansion is here.

"Who goes there!"