Night is always tangled up with conspiracy, and wherever there’s a plot, you can bet there’s a legendary schemer lurking behind it. As darkness fell, the mysterious top-floor office aboard the Phoenix Riverboat became the perfect stage for a classic mastermind drama. Outside: a sea of lights. Inside: pure shadow. The glow from the window sliced the room into two worlds—one bright, one dark.
In the lit half, Mr. Yang rested her elbows on the desk, fingers interlaced and chin propped up, staring seriously at a patch of empty air just below. The dim light cast her eyes in shadow, making her expression unreadable. But as long as she struck that Commander Ikari pose, everyone could sense the deep, cold, lonely, wise, and ruthless aura radiating from her. It was as if nothing in the world could shake that rock-solid heart.
In the shadowy half, Sylvia Shadows melted into the darkness, standing still and silent. She handed the investigation report to Mr. Yang, knowing there was no need to say more—everything would be decided by the person before her. As the head of Shadow Ops, she was like a blade hidden in the dark: eyes, ears, mouthpiece, weapon—but never the brain. The woman in the shadows lived by this rule. From the moment she joined No One Under Heaven, she’d carved this creed into her soul.
But—wait—
"Boss, the first page is pretty much filler—the good stuff’s all in the back. You don’t have to stare at it for fifteen minutes like it’s a sacred text." Sylvia’s voice was still chilly, but if anyone could see her, they’d spot her lips twitching: "Boss, maybe flip a page… Boss? Boss?"
With a rustling sound, Boss Yang’s fingers fell apart like a cheap basket unraveling. It was like a support beam snapping—she collapsed face-first onto the desk. "Huh? Wha? What’s up?" She jerked upright, head flopping side to side in a parody of alertness, but her sleepy eyes just wouldn’t cooperate: "What’s going on? What happened?"
Sylvia was speechless for a moment, then marched up and shoved the stack of reports toward her boss, voice sharp: "Boss, here’s the top intel from the last two days. Please, do us the honor—"
"Re…view…?" Boss Yang let her eyelids droop, barely glancing at the stack of papers before flopping back down and shoving it away: "I’m so dead tired. There’s a show tonight, so reviewing is officially cancelled—just read it to me, okay…"
Sylvia’s eye twitched, but there was nothing she could do.
A few days ago, Gabriel Yang and his companions were sent aboard the Phoenix Riverboat. Gabriel, in his grief, suppressed his chaotic energy and coughed up clotted blood; his injuries were halfway healed—a quick fix, not a cure. But the real recovery—the root of the problem—would depend on the Purification Manual. Over these days, Boss Yang, who understood the Purification Manual better than anyone, became Gabriel’s chief physician. But chief physician? That’s a whole other level of headache.
Gabriel Yang’s personality is about as far from Buddhist discipline as you can get. When he was young, his mood swings could rival any angsty teen. He’s mellowed out with age and after surviving life-and-death ordeals, but he’s still a long way from meeting the Purification Manual’s standards.
But that makes him the perfect test subject.
The Purification Manual is notoriously tough to master—there’s barely a handful in all of Tianshan who can even practice it. That just won’t do. Joan, the Peach Blossom Chieftain, was determined to lower the entry barrier and realize her dream: one bandit crew, one legendary skill. And her own cousin Gabriel Yang landed right in her lap. So, over the past two days, the three giants of Lingjiu Palace and the three-person medical team—six top-tier experts—put their heads together and worked themselves silly.
They say two heads are better than one—so imagine six martial arts geniuses brainstorming together. Joan and Master Yideng brought deep foundations, Mr. Yang and Simone offered broad perspectives, Gabriel Yang and Lydia Drake contributed firsthand experience. When life and death are on the line, none of these experts held back. This might just be the highest-level think tank in the history of Central Plains martial arts.
There’s a saying: the farther apart a couple’s birthplaces, the more likely their child’s genes are optimized. Who knows if that’s true, but in martial arts, it makes perfect sense. Reading ten thousand books is nothing compared to traveling ten thousand miles, and these six have covered way more than that. During two days of heated debate, countless theories were proposed, tested, and put into practice.
After much hair-pulling and head-scratching, they finally found a solution.
Using the Jade Maiden Sutra as a medium, Gabriel Yang and Lydia Drake entered a dual cultivation state. Joan and Master Yideng managed the internal energy; Mr. Yang and Simone monitored the mind. With all six experts working together, Gabriel and Lydia finally connected mentally during cultivation. Lydia, who’d trained the Twelve Mind-Ice Principles for years, always followed the rule of twelve less, twelve more. Her cool discipline balanced Gabriel’s impatience, and together, they finally met the requirements for the Purification Manual.
This tag-team approach to practicing the Purification Manual is complicated and risky. Especially since martial artists in this world tend to have weaker mental strength—Gabriel’s mental power might not even match the two old ladies, Ku and Rong. That’s just how it is; their techniques are different. Any mismatch during the mental connection would injure them both. If Gabriel and Lydia hadn’t spent years as sword partners, if they weren’t dual-cultivation pros, if they weren’t the classic tragic couple, it never would’ve worked.
Luckily, after three grueling hours, they finally pulled it off.
On the bright side, it’s a solid start. It proves that even the Purification Manual, created by Damien himself, isn’t some untouchable divine law. Damien was just a martial arts pioneer—if the ancients could invent it, the moderns can improve it. Plus, they gained valuable experience through trial and error. Gabriel and Lydia managed to master the first diagram together. Afterward, Gabriel felt refreshed and his stomach settled—just a few more diagrams and he’d be as good as new.
This chapter isn’t over yet~.~ Click next page to read the rest!
With this good start, the rest was smooth sailing—no need for another round of intense hand-holding like before.
To make sure everything went smoothly, Mr. Yang had to pour out a ton of mental energy. Even though Simone is half a step to Heavenly King level, she still couldn’t keep up. If Mr. Yang hadn’t been the rock holding things together, the experiment might’ve flopped.
Mr. Yang’s biggest takeaway: if you want to ignore all those pesky limits—personality, morals, faith, timing, luck—and practice the Purification Manual with zero obstacles, you’ll need perfect spiritual enlightenment first. In other words, even a world-ending, angsty idiot could practice it if they reach that level. It’s like running a terrible game on great hardware—if you’ve got four Titan GPUs, it’ll run smooth no matter how bad the code.
Her main feeling? Damn, I’m exhausted~~~~~~~~~~~~~~!!!
Which brings us back to that earlier scene: Mr. Yang flopped onto the desk, breathing quietly, ready to fall asleep in seconds.
“Boss, time’s tight—please stay awake.” Sylvia gave her a nudge, but Mr. Yang was in full dead-pig-won’t-fear-boiling-water mode, unmoving and face-down, mumbling in her sleep: “Staying awake never did anything to me, so I’m not—”
Seriously! Reporting to a boss this weird—Sylvia’s not just shadowy by name and by nature, her heart’s got plenty of shadows too.
No choice—she’d just have to read it aloud.
Sylvia picked up the stack of papers and, barely keeping her cool, reported: “At least thirty-three martial arts sects, gangs, escort agencies, and noble families have gathered here. Plus, the three major pirate, shipping, and smuggling groups that run the South Sea are all involved now. The inland sects and the three sea clans have had tons of dealings, even some brawls and fights. The sea clans have locked down the docks, ships, and sailors. Even regular fishermen and boatmen keep getting questioned by martial artists about chartering boats to sea. Also, according to info from the United Rogue Front…”
Sylvia read page after page; swap her outfit for a modern look and black-rimmed glasses, and she’d be the perfect icy secretary. But for Boss Yang, there was none of that satisfying secretary efficiency. She lay on the desk, clutching her head, listening to the report and, in a daze, thought Sylvia looked just like her high school English teacher—always saying stuff that put her to sleep…
To fight her drooping eyelids, Boss Yang decided to go on the offensive. Still sprawled on the desk, she barely lifted her face: “Qianhua, Little Sylvia, just—give me the highlights…”
Sylvia’s forehead was practically stamped with a giant hashtag.
Shadow Ops spent ages sorting this intel—it’s all highlights! Listen up! But seeing that face full of sleepiness, Sylvia took a deep breath and gave in: “Two things need special attention. First, we just got a message from Lingjiu Palace: Yanlaihong led twenty people straight to Kunlun’s Shocking God Peak. At the spot mentioned by He Qiliao, they found Yinkexi’s grave. After a search, they found the monkey three days ago.”
“They found it?!” Boss Yang punched the desk, eyelids snapping up. If they’d found that monkey, well, sorry Zhang Wuji, you’re out of luck in the next century. Besides, Zhang Junbao’s already joined us, and who knows about the Wudang Seven Heroes. Little Zhang, say goodbye to your protagonist aura~~
“They found the monkey, but…” Sylvia’s voice was calm as she delivered the plot twist: “But the monkey was already dead. Its belly was cut open and the insides scooped out. By the time they found it, wild animals had chewed it up. But after research, Ah Lie swore on his life that the monkey was killed first, its stomach sliced open and the package inside taken, then it was eaten by beasts. In other words, someone beat us to the loot.”
At that moment, Boss Yang just wanted to turn to the camera and coolly say, “Who would’ve thought, I actually got the Nine Yang Divine Skill in the end,” then flip the plot back (shoutout to Wang Dachui). Too bad there’s no camera here, so her real reaction was—WTF! What’s going on?!
Boss Yang snapped to attention, sat up straight, and asked, “Any clue who took the Nine Yang Manual?”
Seeing her boss snap into boss mode, Sylvia straightened up too: “Lately, the Western Mongol Khanate’s been on edge, lots of military moves, and the region’s in turmoil. Yanlaihong was asked by Princess Natalia to help stabilize the situation in Dayuan. But Xianglan, Azhi, Amu, Ali, Ah Lie, and others formed a team to chase down and recover what the boss needs.”
“Right, tell them to be careful. We don’t need that book, and it’s not the only copy, but people’s safety comes first.” Boss Yang said, then folded her hands again, eyes sinking into shadow, looking every bit the behind-the-scenes boss: “What’s the second urgent matter?”
“The second thing is the follow-up on the Jade Hawk Johnson Head Incident. Things have gone sideways—way off the script. Before the martial world could even blink, the Putian authorities slammed down a total news blackout. No arrests, no chases, no interest in the martial artists—just a blanket warning to every resident: don’t talk about it. Then they brought in soldiers, going full panic mode. Looks like the local officials are terrified of losing their hats, desperate to keep the emperor from hearing about this bad-luck scandal, so they’re squashing it with everything they’ve got. But all this has definitely thrown a wrench in our plans. What’s the next move, Boss? ...Boss? Don’t tell me you’re asleep again—”
Thud—Mr. Yang collapsed onto the desk again, out cold this time.
Sylvia opened her mouth, then just sighed and set down the intel report. If a top expert’s this exhausted, she must really be carrying a heavy load. Subordinates have their troubles, bosses have their fatigue—everyone’s giving it their all.
Sylvia’s heart softened, and she let out a silent sigh.
“If she’s this knocked out, might as well skip the report today. I’ll go find Feng Chuxin and have her perform instead…” Sylvia muttered. But just as she finished, Mr. Yang shot up from the desk like a middle schooler at the end of class, face glowing, energy buzzing, ready for action.
“No more reports? Great, I’m off to perform! Let’s go!” she said, bursting with energy and marching out with giant strides.
That left only Sylvia, looking like a teacher bullied by bad students, silently calculating the size of the shadow in her heart…
Fifteen minutes later, the Phoenix Riverboat cast off, the audience took their seats, and the show was about to begin.
Troupe Leader Phoenix peeked out from backstage—whoa, look at that crowd! Packed to the rafters, way better than last time. For this big show, she made the rounds to the dressing room, makeup area, and props house, hyping up the cast: bring your energy, bring your confidence, and put on the best performance to mesmerize—no, to hoodwink—wait, to guide all those lost sheep!
Our mission? To fill every corner of the Eight Desolations and Six Directions with our loyal—okay, maybe brain-dead—fans!
(Note: The 'Eight Desolations and Six Directions' is a classic wuxia phrase meaning 'the whole world, everywhere under heaven.')