Beiluo, Heart of the Lake Island.

  Second floor of the White Jade Pavilion.

  Lu sat motionless in his Thousand Blades Chair as a gentle breeze stirred his white robes and the strands of hair that fell across his forehead.

  The entire city of Beiluo lay shrouded beneath heavy, lead-gray clouds. An oppressive weight pressed down on every soul within the walls; ordinary folk shut themselves indoors, hearts pounding with nameless dread.

  Children peered fearfully through cracked windows and saw, high above the vault of heaven, a churning thunderpool where countless arcs of lightning roared and boiled like dragons trapped in a cage.

  Then the first bolt fell.

  For one blinding instant, the darkness that had swallowed the sky was torn apart. Brilliant. Dazzling. Impossible to look at directly.

  Western Mountain.

  Beneath the White Jade Tower.

  Kong Nanfei tilted his head back and drank deeply from a massive wine jar, throat working with every swallow, as though liquid courage might stand against heavenly punishment.

  Faced with the descending pillar of lightning, he let out a wild laugh, hurled the jar skyward, and roared a single word of defiance.

  One thunderous boom later, the jar exploded into mist. Wine vaporized instantly, filling the air with the thick scent of alcohol.

  His scholar’s robe billowed though there was no wind.

  He opened his mouth, and a profound, resonant sound rang out like the tolling of ancient bells and war drums combined. A small sword forged entirely of pure, milky-white righteous qi shot from his lips and streaked toward the falling thunder.

  Before entering Beiluo, Kong Nanfei had been weak, barely stepped into the Body Storage Realm after the great change between heaven and earth. Compared to Overlord or Nie Changqing, he had been nothing special.

  Yet once inside the city, he climbed the Trial Tower, received Lu’s handwritten Song of Righteousness, and gained sudden enlightenment. He broke through realm after realm until all five viscera were perfected. With the song’s guidance, his path of righteous qi became crystal clear; he skipped the long process of deriving an attribute entirely. In the fifth-floor reward, Heavenly Dao Origin Insight, he soared upward in one leap, attempting to shatter the lock and step into the Heavenly Lock Realm.

  He had caught up from behind.

  Still, facing heavenly tribulation, Kong Nanfei showed no fear.

  He was the first person in this era, after Young Master Lu Ping’an himself, to attempt a tribulation crossing, and he remained utterly unafraid.

  He was a scholar. A man of letters. And just a little bit mad.

  Lu Dongxuan and Gongsun Yu stood at a distance, watching the laughing scholar stare down the lightning. For a moment, their vision blurred.

  In him, they glimpsed the ghost of a younger Kong Xiu, reckless, untamed, daring to laugh at the whole world.

  The milky-white sword of righteous qi collided with the thunder.

  A deafening explosion.

  The ground caved as if a meteor had struck; snow erupted in every direction.

  Kong Nanfei grunted, blood spraying from his mouth as his body was blasted into the newly formed crater.

  The righteous sword shattered.

  Everyone watching sucked in a sharp breath.

  Nie Changqing’s hand instinctively dropped to his knife hilt, face grave.

  Overlord and the others stared, unblinking.

  From the bottom of the pit, Kong Nanfei staggered to his feet. His scholar’s robe was soaked crimson; blood dripped steadily from his nose and the corners of his mouth.

  One bolt of tribulation lightning…

  …and he had nearly failed to withstand it.

  High above in the White Jade Pavilion, Lu rested one hand on the arm of his wheelchair. The outcome of the first clash was exactly as he had expected.

  His expression did not change in the slightest; if anything, it grew colder.

  “The Heavenly Lock is not the Golden Core. It is a realm I created alone. Anyone bold enough to walk this path must endure tribulation far harsher than the norm and suffer greater pain.”

  “You chose this. Then you must be ready to pay the price of failure.”

  Lu spoke softly, almost to himself.

  Even he had not expected Kong Nanfei to attempt the breakthrough so quickly.

  Reckless?

  Underestimating the difficulty of cultivation?

  Leaning back in the Thousand Blades Chair, Lu watched with cool detachment, almost indifference.

  Even if Kong Nanfei were struck dead by the lightning, Lu would not lift a finger.

  This was the path the man had chosen.

  Break the rules, and you pay the price.

  The tribulation for the Heavenly Lock was a weakened version of the classic three-strike heavenly ordeal, only three bolts, yet still far stronger than ordinary breakthroughs.

  In the snow-filled crater on Western Mountain, Kong Nanfei stood bleeding but alive.

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  He had blocked the first bolt.

  He was not dead.

  The onlookers let out the breath they had been holding. Many cultivators even began cheering under their breath.

  Kong Nanfei’s fearless laughter in the face of heaven’s wrath felt like defiance against fate itself; it resonated deeply with everyone watching.

  “Does that mean he succeeded?”

  “As expected of the Master’s grandson, always the first to dare!”

  “Is the world about to see its first Heavenly Lock cultivator?”

  Yet while ordinary cultivators celebrated, the true Body Storage experts, Nie Changqing, Ning Zhao, and others, did not relax at all.

  Their souls were stronger; they could feel the thunderpool above the Ninth Heaven had not dispersed. If anything, its pressure was growing heavier.

  This tribulation… was not finished.

  Ning Zhao’s eyes flickered. When the Young Master crossed his tribulation, hadn’t it ended after just one bolt?

  Why did Kong Nanfei face more than one?

  Was Kong Nanfei stronger than the Young Master?

  Impossible. The Young Master was leagues above him.

  Then she understood.

  Back then, the Young Master had scattered the tribulation clouds with a single strike.

  No clouds, no more lightning.

  Kong Nanfei wiped the blood from his lips, expression turning grim.

  So this was tribulation lightning…

  So strong!

  He flung his sleeves, threw his head back, and stared fearlessly at the roiling clouds.

  “Come on!”

  His roar echoed across the mountain.

  The second bolt formed and fell, faster than the eye could follow.

  The air itself smelled scorched. Kong Nanfei opened his mouth again; righteous qi gathered thick around him like armor. He pointed at the heavens and began reciting ancient verses aloud.

  Layers of righteous qi stacked before him like an impenetrable shield.

  Yet when the thunder struck, the shield exploded outward.

  His entire body shook violently.

  Crackling currents raced through his flesh, searing organs and meridians.

  Had he not tempered his Body Storage Realm to near perfection, that single bolt would have shattered his heart channels and killed him instantly.

  The cheering crowd fell deathly silent.

  They watched in horror as the lightning illuminated Kong Nanfei’s body from within, turning skin translucent, revealing white bone beneath.

  When the light faded, the snow around him had melted into black sludge.

  His hair smoked. His legs gave out, and he dropped to one knee.

  Spiritual energy from his Qi Core surged, trying desperately to heal him.

  He had survived the second bolt, but there was no joy on his face.

  Only dread.

  The tribulation clouds still churned.

  A third bolt was coming.

  What the hell… why is there a third one?!

  Kong Nanfei swallowed hard, skin charred black, face ashen.

  He had been careless.

  He had assumed there would only be one bolt.

  Lu had warned that the Heavenly Lock was stronger than the Golden Core, but he had never imagined the difference would reveal itself so brutally from the very first tribulation.

  Far away, Lu Dongxuan idly fingered the thick gold chain around his neck while the shorter Gongsun Yu stood with hands clasped behind his back.

  They watched the battered scholar and shook their heads with faint regret.

  “This kid’s putting too much pressure on himself.”

  “After Old Kong died, it feels like the entire future of Confucianism landed on his shoulders. That’s why he’s so impatient…”

  “But cultivation can’t be rushed.”

  Lu Dongxuan sighed.

  They were survivors of the Hundred Schools of old; in Kong Nanfei they saw the shadow of Kong Xiu, and the same stubborn fire.

  The two old men exchanged a glance, then turned toward the lake island.

  “The Young Master must have noticed…”

  “Will he intervene?” Gongsun Yu asked.

  Lu Dongxuan chuckled, wrinkles bunching like mountain ranges.

  “Intervene? I’d bet my life he won’t lift a finger.”

  Gongsun Yu raised an eyebrow. “Why not? The Young Master may seem cold, but he has a warm heart. He wouldn’t just watch a peak Body Storage genius get fried right in front of the Trial Tower, would he? What would the world think of White Jade City then?”

  Lu Dongxuan shook his head, gazing at the half-dead scholar in the distance.

  “Everything happening now, he brought on himself.”

  “And old friend… do you really think the Young Master is the kind of man who cares what the world thinks?”

  “He carries the world in his heart, but he will never be swayed by it. That is what makes him truly great.”

  Gongsun Yu twitched. “Old Lu, you’re laying it on a bit thick.”

  Lu Dongxuan shot him a cold side-eye.

  The Young Master’s spiritual sense covered all of Beiluo. One wrong word, and he would know.

  Dare to gossip?

  Dare you?

  Gongsun Yu’s face stiffened; he understood perfectly.

  He gave an awkward laugh.

  “Are you saying the Young Master cares for the world just to insult him?”

  “That heart of his is broader than an old fart like you could ever comprehend.”

  After that, the two old men tacitly shut up and turned their attention back to the tribulation.

  Kong Nanfei coughed up flecks of blood that stained his robe darker. He stared at the sky without taking a single step back.

  Farther off, Meng Haoran was panicking.

  His master… might actually die out there.

  And the lightning just kept coming. How many bolts were there? Was his master going to be cooked alive?

  What should he do?

  Overlord stood like a statue, breathing hard, eyes shining with excitement.

  “What terrifying tribulation!”

  “But if it were me… I could take it!”

  He clenched his fists until veins bulged along his arms.

  He trusted his defense more than anyone. The beatings he had endured in his life outnumbered the grains of rice Kong Nanfei had ever eaten.

  He had experience.

  Tantai Xuan was already dumbstruck. Was this heavenly majesty? Did every powerful cultivator have to withstand the wrath of the heavens just to break through?

  As countless thoughts raced through countless minds, the third and final bolt descended.

  A heaven-shaking roar.

  For an instant it felt as though the mighty city walls themselves might collapse.

  A perfectly straight column of lightning tore downward, unleashing invisible shockwaves that rippled outward in visible rings.

  Boom. Boom. Boom.

  Every hair on Kong Nanfei’s body stood on end. An icy premonition of death wrapped around him.

  “No!”

  Meng Haoran’s pupils shrank to pinpricks as he screamed.

  Bai Qingniao’s three little chicks burrowed deeper into her clothes, trembling.

  Ni Yu clutched her black wok, suddenly very afraid.

  The entire world fell silent except for the ragged breathing of the onlookers.

  Deep in the crater, Kong Nanfei lifted his head and suddenly laughed, bitter and self-mocking.

  He had overestimated himself.

  He had been too eager, too desperate to become the first Heavenly Lock besides the Young Master of White Jade City.

  Too desperate to raise the Haoran Sect until it stood shoulder-to-shoulder with White Jade City.

  Too desperate to restore the glory Confucianism had known when his grandfather still lived.

  His vision blurred.

  Memories rose unbidden.

  He was small again, in the book pavilion after dark, stubbornly swaying as he recited by candlelight.

  His grandfather returned, and little Kong Nanfei looked up eagerly for praise.

  But there was no praise, only a gentle rub on the head and soft words:

  “Eat your meals one bite at a time. Read your books one volume at a time. Don’t rush.”

  Don’t rush.

  Clarity returned to Kong Nanfei’s eyes.

  He gave a helpless, self-deprecating shake of the head, then sat down hard in the snow, tilted his face to the sky, and began to recite, slowly, deliberately, every word perfectly enunciated.

  “In heaven and earth, there exists righteous qi…”

  As the words left his mouth, radiant righteous qi gathered above his head, bright and majestic, coalescing from nothingness into tangible form.

  It flowed like a gentle stream that grew into a rushing river.

  The Long River of Righteous Qi!

  This was the technique he had comprehended after deriving his attribute, speaking with the force of suspended rivers, manifesting the river of righteous qi itself.

  Under his steady recitation, everyone present felt an overwhelming, noble power spreading through the air.

  The final bolt of lightning smashed into the Long River.

  Kong Nanfei’s body shook violently.

  The ground beneath him sank deeper; countless tons of snow flashed into steam.

  Yet he stubbornly kept his head raised, reciting without hurry or pause.

  Through the dazzling radiance of the Long River, he seemed to see a familiar face smiling gently down at him.

  He stared back, stunned.

  When the blinding light finally faded and eyes adjusted once more…

  The tribulation clouds were gone.

  Only Kong Nanfei remained, slumped on the ground, body charred black, steam rising from his skin.

  His aura was frail as a candle in the wind, as though the slightest breeze might snuff him out forever.

  Everyone stood frozen, breathless.

  The clouds had vanished.

  Did that mean… he had survived the tribulation?

  Had Kong Nanfei become a Heavenly Lock cultivator?

  Every heart raced with the same burning question.