15: human heart

Morning mist, like a veil, enveloped the foot of Mount Longhu.

However, this dawn, which should have been silent, was completely torn apart by an irrepressible restlessness.

In front of Zhang Xuanyi's tattered Myriad Laws Street Stall, people swarmed, and various cultivators from all walks of life surrounded this small area, making it impenetrable.

The strange tale from last night, “A Tear for a True Talisman,” was like a giant stone thrown into a calm lake, stirring up monstrous waves in the cultivator circle at the foot of the mountain.

Some scoffed, ridiculing it as “the trickery of a charlatan,” asserting that it would become a laughingstock within three days.

But more people came with a reverence akin to pilgrimage.

What they offered was not gold or silver, but old objects carrying deeply etched memories.

A dried wildflower, carefully preserved, was a tear shed by an old woman missing her deceased husband; a broken old saber was a tear of regret from a down-on-his-luck swordsman who missed an opportunity; half a piece of hardened dried food was a tear silently shed by a wandering youth, in hunger and cold, remembering his mother's embrace.

These mundane items were gently placed on the stall, and drops of tears, imbued with genuine emotion, fell with them, congealing on the tattered cloth without dispersing. The glistening tears truly transformed into faint, visible streams of Talisman Qi.

Although these Talisman Qi were far less overbearing than spiritual power, they contained a pure strength that reached directly into people's hearts.

Zhang Xuanyi sat cross-legged behind the stall, his expression as calm as an ancient well.

His fingertips gently traced a thread-bound ancient book in the corner of the stall—"Street Stall Law: First Draft."

The four characters on the cover flickered in the morning light, exuding an indescribable ancient charm.

He murmured to himself, his voice so soft only he could hear: “True heart for true law… This rule, it’s even more scorching than the Tianshi Mansion’s cold thousand precepts.”

His gaze fell on the last page of the book, on what was originally a blank space. At some unknown point, a line of shocking blood-red characters had quietly appeared: “photocopy yellow paper, forbidden three times.”

At the same time, a virtual light screen, visible only to him, flickered before his eyes, and the system's prompt sound was cold and mechanical: “Warning: Copying objects containing ‘words of the true heart’ will trigger unpredictable karmic backlash. Stall owner, please operate with caution.”

The corner of Zhang Xuanyi’s mouth curved into an intriguing smile, his eyes narrowed slightly, and a cold glint flashed: “Backlash? Interesting. I want to see if my karma is harder, or Li Wujiu’s three hundred years of inner demons are harder. Since he refuses to repent, then let him tear open his own heart with his own hands!”

Just then, Su Qingzhu, who had been quietly squatting in the corner of the stall like a kitten, stealthily moved closer.

She quickly handed over a neatly folded piece of rough paper from her sleeve, lowering her voice, her breath hurried and tense: “The Quansheng demonic cultivators have a secret stronghold in the southwest corner. Inside the stronghold stands a sealed stone tablet covered with black cloth. Old Pipe, taking advantage of a guard change, desperately uncovered a corner and saw the inscription. He said the words on it were altered with a special blood ink. This is what he slipped to me!”

Zhang Xuanyi took the rough paper; it was warm to the touch and carried a faint scent of tobacco.

He unfolded the rough paper. On it, half of a fragmented inscription was awkwardly traced with charcoal. Although the handwriting was messy, it exuded an unyielding sharpness: “...But the Dao is among the people, how can it be monopolized?”

“You said before that Li Wujiu’s infamous ‘letter of repentance’ might have a second half...” Su Qingzhu’s eyes flickered with inquiry and disbelief, “Could it... really exist?”

Zhang Xuanyi stared at the half-finished text, remaining silent for a long time.

These nine characters, like a thunderclap, pierced through three hundred years of historical fog.

The rebellion and questioning they contained were completely at odds with Li Wujiu, the brutal and bloodthirsty demonic leader of Quansheng in the eyes of the world.

He suddenly had an extremely bold idea.

He took a deep breath and pulled out a yellowed talisman paper from his embrace—it was that “photocopy yellow paper.”

Then, he gently pressed the rough paper, on which the fragmented text was traced, onto the yellow paper.

A miracle happened.

The yellow paper seemed to be infused with life, emitting a faint hum.

The charcoal black characters on the rough paper seemed to come alive, transforming into wisps of black energy, instantly devoured by the yellow paper.

Immediately after, the entire yellow paper glowed brightly, and lines of text automatically appeared on it, written with powerful strokes, the ink penetrating the paper!

This was a complete document—it was precisely the letter of repentance that Li Wujiu was forced to sign three hundred years ago after his defeat at Mount Longhu!

The first half was identical to the version published by the Tianshi Mansion, filled with humiliation and unwillingness in every word.

However, at the end of the document, where it should have concluded, a completely different sentence appeared!

The ink of that sentence was deep red like blood, as if it wasn't written with a brush, but cried out, word by word, with the essence of a tongue tip.

The system prompt sounded again, this time with a hint of excitement: “Strong ‘Heart Imprint’ detected! This item is the manifestation of a three-hundred-year-old obsession, meeting the copying conditions. Do you wish to activate ‘Heart Imprint Copying’? (Note: This privilege is limited to 1 use, will consume one use of photocopy yellow paper, and is bound to significant karma)”

“Yes.” Zhang Xuanyi silently affirmed in his mind without hesitation.

He put away the yellow paper, which had perfectly replicated the “Heart Imprint,” and softly said to Su Qingzhu: “What he wrote back then wasn’t repentance, it was hatred. But within that hatred, his initial truth was hidden.”

In the afternoon, steady footsteps echoed on the mountain path.

Wei Zhen reappeared. This time, he had shed the official robes symbolizing the authority of the Hall of Law Enforcement, wearing only an inconspicuous grey robe.

His gaze swept over the congealed tears of Vow Power on the stall, his eyes complex. He suddenly asked: “Do you truly believe a few drops of tears are more valuable than mountains of spirit coins?”

Zhang Xuanyi was cracking melon seeds. Hearing this, he spat out a shell and laughed: “spirit coins can buy the protection of the strong, elixirs for prolonging life, and even a human life. But they can’t buy back the Lantern Festival lights that a blind old mother wanted to see one last time before she died. Sir Wei, I’ve still kept the copper coin you gave me.”

The muscles in Wei Zhen’s cheek twitched imperceptibly, and he fell into a long silence.

After a while, he took out a dossier stamped with the Hall of Law Enforcement's vermilion seal from his embrace and tossed it onto the stall: “The Hall of Law Enforcement’s joint hearing is set for three days from now. At that time, the Tianshi Mansion and all major families will send representatives. If you don’t go, your stall will immediately be classified as a ‘source of chaos,’ permanently sealed, and you yourself will be listed as a wanted fugitive.”

He paused, lowering his voice further, with a hint of warning: “But if you do go... I suggest you don’t mention your theory of tears at all. The people there only recognize fists and rules.”

With that, he turned to leave, but then, as if remembering something, he paused, not looking back, and only added in a low voice: “Latest news, Li Wujiu has already entered the mountain. He brought three ‘Innate Self-Immolation Talismans’—those aren’t for buying things, they’re for burning, to perish with your stall.”

The night wind suddenly rose, making the mountain forest wail.

A lean figure stood silently on the stone steps leading to the stall; it was Li Songyang.

His gaze was as sharp as an eagle's, fixed intently on the “Heart Imprint Yellow Paper” on Zhang Xuanyi’s stall, which was about to be completed.

“What you’re copying isn’t a document, it’s Li Wujiu’s Achilles’ heel.” Li Songyang’s voice was cold as iron, devoid of emotion, “There are people in the Hall of Law Enforcement who want to kill with a borrowed knife. They will sit by and watch Li Wujiu, this madman, destroy you and your stall, and then, under the guise of ‘pacifying the Quansheng demonic chaos,’ they will rightfully take over all defenses at the foot of Mount Longhu, completely seizing power.”

Zhang Xuanyi, however, grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth: “I know. That’s why I can’t let him burn this stall. I have to make him not want to burn it himself.”

“Arrogant!” Li Songyang snorted coldly, “Li Wujiu’s nature has long been twisted. How can three hundred years of obsession and hatred be shaken by you? If you truly use this thing to provoke him, forcing his inner demons to completely erupt and self-immolate on the spot, the entire Quansheng will fall into madness, sparing no effort to bathe Mount Longhu in blood. At that time, no one will be able to clean up the mess!”

“Then let him live, but his Dao Heart must collapse.” Zhang Xuanyi carefully wrapped the yellow paper, which had absorbed enough Vow Power and was emitting a faint bloody glow, in oil paper and sealed it away.

His eyes gleamed with an almost insane confidence, “I want him to see with his own eyes that the sentence he was forced to leave unfinished back then was his true ‘Dao’ when he established Quansheng!”

Before he finished speaking, midnight arrived.

Deep in the mountain forest, a dull thud suddenly echoed, mixed with a suppressed groan.

Immediately after, a figure stumbled out of the darkness—it was Su Qingzhu!

Her hair was disheveled, and her pretty face was filled with anxiety and panic.

“This is bad!” She rushed to the stall, speaking urgently, “Old Pipe has been discovered! He’s been subdued, and the blood characters on that sealed stone tablet... are fading at a visible rate! They have a secret technique to completely erase that passage!”

Zhang Xuanyi abruptly stood up, his eyes flashing with cold light.

He shoved the oil paper package into Su Qingzhu’s hand, his tone leaving no room for doubt: “You, now, immediately, go to that stone tablet! They want to erase it, but we won’t let it disappear! Use the camera you brought, turn on the flash, and take a picture of that fading fragmented text for me! As bright as you can make it! I want everyone in the world to see that three hundred years ago, Quansheng was not initially demonic; it was forced into becoming demonic, step by step, by this group of hypocritical sanctimonious scoundrels!”

Su Qingzhu bit her lip hard, nodded vigorously, took the oil paper package without hesitation, and turned to sprint back into the boundless night like a nimble leopard.

Zhang Xuanyi watched her disappearing back, slowly exhaled a turbid breath, and then gave the final instruction to the system in his mind: “Prepare to activate ‘Karma Binding,’ target Li Wujiu. I want this Heart Imprint Yellow Paper to become a mirror of his three hundred years of obsession, reflecting all his hatred and resentment back onto himself!”

As his voice fell, the tattered Myriad Laws Street Stall moved without wind, flapping loudly.

In the center of the stall, the four ancient characters “Myriad Laws Street Stall” glowed faintly, as if alive, whispering something.

The air at the entire foot of Mount Longhu solidified at this moment.

An unprecedented terrifying pressure simultaneously rose from the direction of the Tianshi Mansion on the mountaintop and from deep within the mountain forest, confronting each other from afar.

The storm was coming.