Chapter 81: The Era Reopens

Chapter 81: The Epoch Reopens

Cui Wenjing chuckled, "The antiquity of noble houses does not stretch back to the reopening of an epoch; we are not handed down from the previous one. Matters of that era, including His Majesty, are all still in the process of exploration. What we know comes only from scattered records or hints gleaned from exploring ancient secret realms. If we claim to know more than others, it is merely that we possess a bit more of this information."

Zhao Changhe listened attentively.

"The previous epoch should have been a world where gods and demons stood side by side. Phrases like 'moving mountains and filling seas' or 'splitting the cosmos with a blade' are mere metaphors today, but back then, they were likely literal. Yet... perhaps they grew too powerful, and their battles shattered the cosmos; or perhaps for other reasons—in any case, overnight, heaven and earth collapsed, and the gods fell."

Zhao Changhe had anticipated this situation. The Blind One's methods were clearly beyond compare in the present world. Cui Wenjing, ranked ninth under heaven, could summon celestial phenomena, yet he still fell short of the Blind One's level. If people today could not achieve such feats, they must belong to the previous epoch. The Blind One was surely a surviving life from that era, though why did they only act in the shadows?

The Way of Heaven is dead... Those four words echoed most in Zhao Changhe's mind at that moment.

Now, sects like the Blood God Sect or the Four Symbols Sect—what they worshipped might not be superstition, but powerful beings that once truly existed.

"Heaven and earth collapsed and reopened, but for reasons unknown, the gods and buddhas scattered, while ordinary living beings did not all perish. Humans stubbornly emerged from the ruins to rebuild the land. Yet most legacies were lost in the cataclysm. Through exploring ruins and secret realms, people could restart cultivation and piece together some history of the epoch, learning a few tales, but they no longer knew how to attain such divine power."

This was why the world felt so disjointed between low martial arts and high fantasy. Even at Cui Wenjing's level, something seemed missing. How much had Xia Longyuan touched upon?

Cui Wenjing paused, took a sip of tea to moisten his throat, then suddenly laughed with self-mockery: "The world thinks the name 'Qinghe Cui' existed in the previous epoch, revering it as some profound, mysterious legacy. Not so. Take this Biluochun tea... Whether it should truly be called Biluochun, no one knows. But knowing such a famous tea once existed, they named the new brew after it—that's all."

Zhao Changhe said, "So the great noble houses and lofty sects are merely humans after the epoch's collapse and reopening, who obtained legacies from ancient ruins, thus gaining a step ahead and achieving secret treasures. They are not truly legacies from the previous epoch?"

"Some might indeed have inherited things related to that epoch and founded their sects on that basis—that does happen, many sects are like that. But the vast majority just borrow the name. For instance, an ancestor surnamed Cui chose to settle in Qinghe, merely to attach themselves to the elegance of the Qinghe Cui recorded in the epoch. According to that record, the Qinghe Cui and the Langya Wang were not from the same period, yet here they stand side by side... because everyone is just borrowing names."

So that was it.

The previous epoch was likely a world strongly connected to the present, which was why the Blind One appeared in this age. When the epoch collapsed, both geography and culture changed and inherited, leading to Beimang in the north and Qinghe in the south, as well as Yao, Shun, Yu, Qinghe Cui, and Biluochun—all similar yet different. The matter was simple, but the underlying reasons might require long-term investigation.

Speaking of Qinghe Cui... Zhao Changhe twitched his mouth. Though he was a liberal arts student, he was actually a sports powerhouse, dominating the court but wilting like a cat in class, unable to remember which noble houses belonged to which periods. He had once thought Qinghe Cui was legendary, worthy of awe, but now that his future father-in-law had exposed this, its prestige plummeted into the mud.

Then Cui Wenjing said leisurely, "A family's glory does not depend on what skin it wears, but on ourselves. I have never concealed these matters. Yangyang."

Cui Yuanyang sat up straighter: "Father."

"With so many things happening, I had no mind to scold you, but now I must make it clear. Running away from home, mingling with bandits and ruffians—not only did you ruin your own pure reputation, but you also tarnished the family's honor and brought endless trouble. This deserves severe punishment. These days we have guests, so let you frolic for two more days. Once Changhe leaves, you will go to the back mountain for secluded cultivation, confined for half a year."

Cui Yuanyang, who had been brimming with joy, froze, her face instantly falling. The father she had never found so agreeable suddenly turned odious.

"Can we negotiate? Just... just three months?"

"Not a single day less." Cui Wenjiang's face was expressionless. "Also, go receive the family punishment—ten strokes."

Cui Yuanyang clutched her bottom and jumped up: "That won't do!"

Cui Wenjing remained unmoved, calmly sipping his tea.

"Uh..." Zhao Changhe finally spoke up: "That, ten strokes—does that mean hitting the bottom?"

"Yes." Cui Yuanyang's eyes shimmered, her voice suddenly tinged with a hint of coquettishness: "If it's bruised, it won't be tender, won't be nice to touch..."

"Pfft!" Cui Wenjing sprayed out his tea, the ninth-ranked master of the Heavenly List nearly choked to death by those words. His finger trembled as he pointed at Cui Yuanyang, coughing for a long time without speaking.

Zhao Changhe said with an apologetic smile, "That, let me take the ten strokes instead."

Cui Wenjing slammed the table and stood up: "What do you want to keep that bottom for? I warn you two—if you dare do anything to disgrace the family within these three years, I don't care who you are, I'll cut you down with one sword!"

With that, he flicked his sleeves and left: "For that remark just now! Add three more strokes!"

"Hey, hey, senior—no, Uncle, wait—we haven't finished talking about the epoch's history..."

"That's basically it! If you want more details, have that leaky cotton-padded jacket find you the texts. She's right in the study—can't she read? What's there to talk about!"

Cui Wenjing's voice was practically frantic as he strode away, out of sight, out of mind, afraid that looking too long would make him want to hit someone.

The young man and woman looked at each other, feeling that Old Cui's anger had been pent up for a long time. It hadn't been easy for him to put on a calm and harmonious facade these past two days—he was about to explode.

"Forget him." The leaky cotton-padded jacket said angrily, "I'm not going to receive the family punishment. If he dares hit me, I'll go make a scene with Mother! This time, he was full of schemes as if he were so great, but Mother was kept in the dark and cried for two days. If I stir things up again, Mother won't let him off. Let's see how he dares hit me!"

Zhao Changhe tilted his head to look at her. The girl was only trying to avoid a beating; she didn't seem too resistant to the confinement punishment. It seemed she inwardly knew the foolishness of her impulsive actions and was accepting the penalty. Even Zhao Changhe felt that what she had done before was too stupid—not punishing her would be inexcusable.

After this upheaval, the girl had grown up, knowing what to do and what not to do. At least after he left this time, she probably wouldn't cry and run away to find her lover.

But in other words, everyone knew he had to go.

He couldn't linger at the Cui estate, oblivious to the world.

There were still the misty rains of the jianghu awaiting him, and a vast canvas to unfold.

At the Ancient Sword Lake, there was still the promise with Han Wubing. A man must keep his word—he had to go. Calculating the time, it was almost due.

Cui Yuanyang bit her lower lip, gracefully sidled up to Zhao Changhe, and pressed her hand against his chest: "Brother Zhao..."

"Ah... ah?" Zhao Changhe felt the atmosphere was a bit off... This was your father's study—what are you up to?

Cui Yuanyang whispered softly, "Are you leaving..."

"Yeah... almost..."

"Then... I think there's still something I should give you."

The girl's tone grew gentler and gentler, and with the earlier talk about bruised bottoms not being nice to touch, any man's mind would think she was about to do something...

Zhao Changhe instinctively stepped back: "That, wait—your father... no, you're still young, three years minimum... don't..."

"Hmm?" Cui Yuanyang looked up at him, a hint of slyness in her eyes: "I mean, I should give you a horse. Since Father said you're suited for fine clothes and a spirited steed, roaming the jianghu, how could you be without a horse?"

Zhao Changhe was dumbfounded: "Huh?"

"So..." A flash of allure passed through Cui Yuanyang's eyes, and she lowered her head, speaking softly: "Brother Zhao's reaction... tells me what you thought I was giving you."