Chapter 60: The Beautiful, Powerful, and Tragic Cannon Fodder Villain—My Father Is a King (13)

In the story, Bai Yujing’s growth was swift and remarkable.

As for the present Bai Yujing—well, life’s circumstances can be strangely unpredictable.

Just as in the tale, after discovering countless villagers dead and wounded, he shouldered a woodcutter’s blade and descended the mountain alone, determined to seek out the culprit and arrived at Mist City.

The Bai Yujing of the story endured scornful looks, hunger, and was despised as an eyesore by passing wanderers.

But the Bai Yujing of reality, after just three skipped meals upon entering the city, met two elder brothers.

The eldest took him to eat, bought him new clothes, even brought him home, and ultimately teamed up with him.

He went from being alone, knowing nothing and chased by the assassins of Star-Plucking Tower, surviving only through luck and the legendary weapon in his hand, to traveling leisurely, eating and drinking along the way, either falling straight into sleep or being held hostage while fully conscious—either way, he remained unharmed, a delicate younger brother unable to fend for himself.

Bai Yujing’s experiences were still too few.

So when he uncovered the truth and found the Star-Plucking Tower’s hiding place, he overheard the assassins involved in the massacre laughing, recalling how among the villagers they killed, there was an ignorant village woman who tried to seduce them, hoping they would spare her child—ridiculing and dismissing her efforts.

At that moment, Bai Yujing lost control.

He knew the village woman spoken of; she was his childhood companion, though she had been married off early by her parents. Her child had only been born at the start of the year.

Xiao Jiang could understand Bai Yujing. Though the scene appeared brutal and demonic, they were, after all, righteous men.

The assassins of Star-Plucking Tower cared only for money, not people. They were even less humane than those raised as killers by the Demon Sect from orphanhood.

Some joined simply for the thrill of killing, becoming assassins for pleasure.

When Bai Yujing could do nothing but retch and spit bile, Xiao Jiang patted his shoulder. “Come, let’s leave this place.”

Bai Yujing’s face twisted with indecision, but he finally said, “I—I should at least dig a grave for them and bury them.”

He did not regret losing control and killing the assassins, but felt the dead deserved burial.

Xiao Jiang did not stop him, though he had no intention of helping.

Forgive him—six years of privileged living had turned Xiao Jiang into a wealthy young master who disliked manual labor.

Qin Bing wanted to assist, but his cleanliness would not allow it.

Thus, the two reliable elder brothers—one stood with arms folded, expression stern; the other leaned against a tree, looking utterly nonchalant—both watched Bai Yujing busily digging pits and burying bodies.

His tool was the woodcutter’s blade.

Reaper’s Edge: ???

Little brother, are you looking for death?

Reaper’s Edge was reluctant, but its foolish master was dead set on using it to dig dirt. What could it do?

It could only stew in resentment, waiting for the next chance to unleash carnage.

The agitation and resentment emanating from the legendary weapon were usually imperceptible to humans, though grandmasters might occasionally sense faint traces.

Otherwise, only the weapon’s master, while holding it, could vaguely feel its unrest.

Bai Yujing believed the resentment to be his own.

He sighed inwardly. No wonder the elders said that no wanderer is a good man.

Look at him—after killing so many, there was still such anger inside, even yearning for another bloodbath.

If this continued, how would he differ from the enemies who slaughtered his village?

This was not right.

After leaving, Bai Yujing secretly watched Qin Bing and Xiao Jiang along the way.

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Qin Bing stroked his chin, gazing at his own reflection in the water, finally giving Bai Yujing a meaningful pat on the shoulder.

“Little Bai, I’m your elder brother. I know you respect me, but respect is enough—you don’t need to idolize me. Your brother prefers gentle, fragrant girls.”

Bai Yujing replied with a stoic face, “You’re the second brother.”

He pushed Qin Bing’s hand away. “I also like gentle, fragrant girls. You needn’t worry.”

Qin Bing: “He’s angry now, isn’t he?”

Bai Yujing closed his eyes. Forget it—second brother was a fool, not worth getting angry at.

Shortly after the three left, Qiao Mingyue and her group arrived at the Star-Plucking Tower’s hideout.

“There’s a strong smell of blood. A battle just took place here—not a fight, but a one-sided slaughter, and a most savage, bloody one at that.”

The descendant of a famous constable, renowned in the martial world, needed only a cursory glance to reach this conclusion.

Qiao Mingyue trusted his judgement, sighing, “Perhaps we arrived a step too late.”

“Don’t worry, fairy. The opponent has only just acquired the legendary weapon; we may still have a chance. We can pursue them and strike when the moment comes. After all, there’s no need to observe martial ethics with the demonic.”

If they couldn’t win outright, they’d resort to underhanded tactics—poison, traps, whatever worked.

Of course, as righteous young heroes, they needed a veil of decency.

Qiao Mingyue neither agreed nor disagreed, and the group hurried away as quickly as they had arrived.

Meanwhile, Qin Ye was grilling fish outdoors when he received word. He looked up. “Qiao Mingyue, huh? Is she pretty?”

His subordinate hesitated. “She wore a veil, so we didn’t see her face. They had many people, all from prestigious families, each with unique skills. We couldn’t get too close, lest we be discovered.”

Qin Ye stroked his chin—smooth to the touch. Oh, he’d shaved his beard earlier.

“Master, flip the fish—it’s burning.”

Qin Ye glared. “You think I can’t grill a fish?”

Clearly an insult.

His subordinate was unfazed, patiently waiting for Qin Ye to think things through.

And indeed, Qin Ye let the fish burn.

“Why didn’t you remind me?”

His subordinate said nothing.

Qin Ye, steadfast in never blaming himself, tossed the fish to a stray dog and stood up.

“The Invincible Gauntlets have surfaced. Send someone to lure Xiao Bing and the others over.”

“Yes.”

Rely on the mountains and they may run; rely on trees and they may fall; but Qin Ye, you can always count on—though it’s safer to rely on themselves.

After all, Qin Ye’s interest in acting as the guardian grandfather for these two reckless youths was only temporary.

So, better to boost their fighting power first.

At Qin Ye’s command, the three were soon led to where the Invincible Gauntlets were kept.

The gauntlets were actually a pair of shabby black gloves, fingerless and worn.

Their owner was just a humble fisherman, who kept them because, when worn, they brought luck in fishing and protected his hands.

When Qin Bing and the others arrived near the fisherman’s house, he was about to set out on the lake to fish.

Had they arrived later, they would have had to wait a day or two. But now, it was just right.

---

However, the gauntlets showed no favor to the three.

The weathered fisherman wore the gloves, but they remained inert.

They had been lured here by rumors about Xiao Jiang’s origins.

Upon arrival, they found the information false.

As night fell, the three stayed at the fisherman’s house regardless.

Qin Ye stood by the lake, watching the shimmering waters under the sunset, remaining there until late at night. Then he turned, entered the fisherman’s house as if no one else existed, found the gloves set aside, and picked them up, pinching them.

Inside, the Demon Flute gloated: “Go on, crush them. Let them know what a beating feels like.”

Qin Ye was speechless.

This was why he disliked weapons possessing intelligence. Weapons should remain as weapons—what need was there for sentience?

With intelligence comes the foundation for becoming a living being—and with it, endless thoughts and emotions.

Take the Demon Flute: although Qin Ye had subdued it, that didn’t stop it from harboring its own array of muddled thoughts.

The gauntlets continued to play dead.

Only Tai’a, the sword, truly recognized Qin Ye as its master upon first sight.

When Qin Ye arrived, Tai’a—previously no more than a firewood stick, showing no response as its original master was pursued and near death—immediately came to life and protected its new master.

The Demon Flute was restless, unwilling to fade into obscurity, and even without finding a worthy owner, it emitted enticing waves, luring people to fight over it, only to meet their end.

That’s how Qin Ye stumbled upon it, and from then on, the Demon Flute was forced to accept him as its master.

The gauntlets, too, quietly played dead.

Threats were useless—throw them in the fire and they’d burn. Hack them with a blade and they’d become a tattered glove.

Using the usual methods of identifying legendary weapons was futile with the Seven Divine Arms.

Take Tai’a: you might think it extraordinary, so you strike it with a fine steel blade, only to find it breaks, becoming a broken sword.

How, then, to confirm it’s one of the Seven Divine Arms?

Simple—leave the broken sword aside, feign abandonment, then return after some time. If it has restored itself, then it’s surely a legendary weapon.

Such tricks may not fool those who truly know their properties, but they suffice for most.

The Invincible Gauntlets, pretending to be ordinary gloves, received a ruthless beating.

The Demon Flute was beside itself with glee.

The gauntlets, stubborn as ever, refused to yield.

In the end, their spirit was nearly shattered.

Qin Ye approved, then completely broke their spirit. Before the gauntlets lost their peculiar qualities and became mere dead objects, Qin Ye infused them with a strand of sword energy.

The gauntlets were instantly renewed, sprouting dense little spikes across their surface. Simply touching them gave the sensation of one’s skin being pierced.

Upon leaving the fisherman’s house, Xiao Jiang opened the door, arms crossed. “Well, what a coincidence, Dad.”

Qin Ye pinched the child’s cheek and tossed him the gauntlets.

“Coincidence, my foot. I was afraid you’d get ambushed without knowing, so I’ve been acting as your bodyguard all the way.”

Xiao Jiang laughed, examining the gauntlets. “Are these the divine arms for Xiao Bing?”

“Yes. With a legendary weapon in hand, you can stand against grandmasters, and even face the greatest with a chance. Otherwise, the thought of you encountering danger out here keeps me so worried I lose my appetite and can’t sleep at night.”