Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 94: Gu Muqing

The better part of the day slipped by.

As the bright moon reclaimed the sky, the restless sea finally quieted. Starlight dusted the earth, draping the Seven Blood Eyes bay in a veil of silver and shadow.

From a distance, the seven monolithic peaks piercing the heavens—crowned by their magnificent, blood-red giant pupils—stood as both guardians and executioners.

They guarded the Sect’s prosperity, luring in the desperate masses who bled their wealth away on exorbitant residency fees, feeding the ever-hungry maw of the Seven Blood Eyes’ industry. They deterred the outside world, serving as a bleeding-red warning to foreign races and lurking predators.

But internally? The brutal, cannibalistic grinder the disciples endured was nothing but raising Gu—nurturing the most venomous wolves capable of surviving a chaotic age. Only these surviving wolves earned the right to gorge on the Sect’s spoils.

Xu Qing understood these rules perfectly now. Gazing at the distant harbor, he eased the speed of his tattered flying boat, gliding steadily toward the port.

Across the dark waters, the Dharma Boats of Seven Blood Eyes disciples drifted like scattered stars. Powerful searchlights from the watchtowers swept across the sea, their glaring white beams catching the shimmering waves.

One such beam snapped onto the waters just outside the sea gate of the Seventy-ninth Port, locking onto a flimsy, splintered flying boat that looked ready to disintegrate. The light centered on the young man standing at its prow.

The glare was blinding. Xu Qing narrowed his eyes, shielding them with one hand while drawing his identity token with the other.

A soft glow pulsed from the jade, interacting with an invisible Formation sweeping over him. Identity confirmed. The massive gate of the Seventy-ninth Port slowly parted, revealing a narrow entry slip.

The searchlight snapped away, plunging Xu Qing’s world into momentary, pitch-black silence before his vision adjusted. As his boat slipped through the gate, the familiar stench of the shore breeze—salt, blood, and rot—ruffled his hair. He let out a slow, silent breath.

No matter how vicious the main city of Seven Blood Eyes was, it was still safer than the boundless sea. At the very least, the enemies in the lower city wouldn’t outclass him by an entire major cultivation realm.

I’m back, he thought, steering the battered craft straight toward his berth.

His late-night arrival didn’t go unnoticed. Normally, the harbor rats wouldn’t spare a second glance at a returning vessel, but the moment they recognized Xu Qing, several disciples stepped out onto the decks of their Dharma Boats, respectfully cupping their fists in greeting.

His recent breakthrough and the terrifying manifestation of the Spirit Sea Dragon Whale had cemented his infamy in the Seventy-ninth Port. These disciples easily spotted the ruined state of his flying boat, instantly deducing the lethal encounters he must have survived. But mountain-bottom disciples knew the rules: never ask questions that could get you killed. They all collectively pretended not to see the battle damage.

Xu Qing returned their greetings with a perfunctory nod. Once his boat locked into its berth, his gaze swept the shadows of the docks. He stepped into the cabin and sat cross-legged.

Just like before he had left.

As his eyes closed, the residual bloodlust from days of slaughter slowly bled out of him, but his paranoia remained—etched deep into his bones. He had returned with a massive haul. While his current reputation deterred most bottom-feeders, absolute caution was the only currency that kept a cultivator alive. Before meditating, Xu Qing silently scattered a lethal dose of poison powder around his berth, lacing both the water and the docks.

He also hadn’t forgotten the merman youth he had slaughtered right before setting sail. That brat had a protector stationed somewhere in the port.

I wonder if they’ve found the dead fish yet, Xu Qing mused coldly. He didn’t bother asking around. Instead, he drew in a breath, circulating his cultivation with a razor-sharp vigilance.

The night passed without incident.

Morning broke crisp and bright, the dawn sunlight washing away the coastal chill. As the golden rays spilled into the cabin, Xu Qing opened his eyes and stepped out onto the deck.

The familiar sights and sounds of the harbor greeted him. The rhythmic tread of patrol squads, the early-rising disciples, the distant hum of the mortal slums, and the greasy, spiced scent of street food drifting on the wind. It put him in a good mood.

Ignoring his blood-stained, tattered Daoist robe, he vaulted off the boat, stowed it in his storage bag, and headed straight for his usual breakfast stall. The shopkeeper greeted him warmly, completely unfazed by his battle-torn appearance—blood and rags were just another Tuesday in Seven Blood Eyes.

The familiar taste hit the spot, and Xu Qing devoured double his usual portion. After paying, he bypassed the Homicide Department entirely. Reporting back from leave could wait. He went straight to the main city’s disciple management office and bought a pristine set of gray Daoist robes.

After changing, he made his way toward Zhang San’s Transportation Department. His flying boat was salvageable, but his Dharma Boat needed a complete overhaul. Considering his recent windfall, the cost was trivial.

I still owe Senior Brother Zhang San a favor from last time, Xu Qing thought, tapping his pocket as he quickened his pace.

By mid-morning, with the sun beating down, the Transportation Department came into view. To Xu Qing’s mild surprise, the usually gritty yard was occupied by a group of highly out-of-place disciples.

Seven or eight young women stood there, their graceful curves straining against the standard Sect robes. They all shared a distinct, refined aura—the unmistakable scent of medicinal ingredients clinging to them. Disciples of the Second Peak.

At the center of the group stood a core disciple in a pale orange robe. She was strikingly beautiful—sixteen or seventeen, possessing a clear, ethereal elegance that made her seem entirely detached from the filth of the lower city. Despite her core status, she exuded a quiet, gentle demeanor, standing unassumingly among her peers.

Xu Qing’s gaze swept past her with cold indifference, locking instead onto Zhang San. Standing amidst these dazzling Second Peak beauties, Zhang San looked exactly like a dirty, weather-beaten farmer, squatting on a sandbag and rubbing his hands together.

Zhang San spotted him instantly, tossing up a hand in greeting before thumping his own chest to reassure the women. “Don’t worry, ladies! With Old Zhang at the helm, there won’t be any problems. Out on the sea, most races give me face.”

Noting the ongoing business transaction, Xu Qing didn’t interrupt. He stepped smoothly into the shadow of a nearby awning and waited in absolute silence.

Standing in the dark, the gray-robed Xu Qing painted a stark contrast to the sunlit courtyard. In the light, his handsome features seemed gentle, almost harmless. But here in the shadows, that gentleness peeled away like a cheap mask, revealing the freezing apathy beneath. His dark eyes were devoid of warmth, projecting an invisible, razor-sharp boundary that warned others to stay away.

This striking, deadly stillness naturally drew the attention of the Second Peak disciples. Several pairs of beautiful eyes drifted his way.

Xu Qing ignored them entirely.

Moments later, Zhang San finalized his deal and jogged over, a wide grin splitting his weathered face. “You’re finally back, kid! How was the haul?”

“Acceptable,” Xu Qing replied, a faint smile touching his lips.

“As long as you didn’t die out there,” Zhang San chuckled, then jerked his chin toward the departing women, a smug glint in his eye. “You see them? Second Peak. Notice the prettiest one in the middle? That’s Gu Muqing, a core disciple. The dream Daoist partner for half the Sect… and soon to be mine, obviously.”

Zhang San puffed out his chest. “They’re chartering a voyage for a training expedition. Massive payout. I beat out every captain in the harbor for this contract—even your own squad captain couldn’t outbid me.” He stared at Xu Qing, practically begging for a jealous reaction.

Xu Qing just nodded.

Zhang San deflated. “I mean… Junior Brother Xu, shouldn’t you congratulate me? I might actually score a Daoist partner after this trip.”

Xu Qing processed the logic. It was a significant social victory for the man. He forcibly adjusted his facial muscles to mimic mild envy and said, entirely deadpan, “Congratulations.”

Zhang San sighed, thoroughly defeated. “Forget it. I know it physically pains you to emote. You’re here for a Dharma Boat inspection, right?”

Xu Qing dropped the act, reaching into his pouch and pulling out a high-quality sheet of sea lizard skin. “Senior Brother Zhang, I need repairs. But I also want to reinforce the hull with sea lizard skin to increase the boat’s durability—”

He stopped abruptly.

A few paces away, the departing Second Peak disciples had halted. Specifically, Gu Muqing had stopped. Her bright eyes locked onto the sea lizard skin in Xu Qing’s hand.

“Fellow disciple,” her voice drifted over—soft, melodic, carrying the faint, sweet scent of medicinal pills. “Is that the skin of an eighth-level Qi Condensation sea lizard?”

To anyone else, it would sound like a gentle breeze. To Xu Qing, it sounded like an incoming threat.

His brow furrowed. In a blur of motion, the lizard skin vanished back into his storage bag. His eyes snapped onto Gu Muqing, cold and guarded.

A mistake, he berated himself internally. Just because he had harvested a mountain of the material—and just because it was a common commodity in the Sect shops—didn’t mean he should flash it out in the open. He should have waited until the outsiders left.

Sensing his sudden hostility, Gu Muqing quickly stepped forward, her long eyelashes fluttering in an apologetic manner. “Please don’t misunderstand. I’m trying to refine a specific Pill that requires a massive amount of sea lizard skin. The higher the quality, the better. I’ve already bought out every shop in the city, which is why we’re heading out to sea. But if you have any extra, I am willing to buy it at a premium.”

She looked at him with deep anticipation, her clear eyes practically begging him.

Xu Qing calculated the odds. Selling it wasn’t the issue, but prioritizing his own Dharma Boat’s upgrades was paramount. He ran the numbers in his head.

Standing between the icy, calculating assassin and the eagerly staring beauty, Zhang San blinked. Suddenly, his grand, romantic sea voyage plan felt vaguely doomed. In fact, standing here right now, he felt incredibly superfluous.

He cleared his throat, preparing to interject, when Gu Muqing’s eyes suddenly widened as she studied Xu Qing’s face.

“Wait, I remember now!” she exclaimed softly. “You’re Xu Qing!”