Chapter 429: Mahjong Suits

Chapter 429: Mahjong Suit

Li Huowang tilted his head upward, staring in awe at the colossal eye suspended in the sky.

As the celestial trigrams above continued to shift and fluctuate, the massive vertical pupil also swiveled from side to side, following the lowering clouds with each movement. There was no emotion in that eye—only an overwhelming sense of chaos that left him breathless.

Chaos should not be seen with the eyes, yet Li Huowang was absolutely certain that what he beheld now was one of the eyes of chaos itself.

From that orb came a strange chanting sound, causing Li Huowang to clasp his ears in agony.

He remembered this chant! He had heard it once over a hundred miles outside the capital city. Now, it seemed, he had finally found its source!

Compared to the faint whisper before, the volume here was far greater. The people around him who had collapsed from the noise proved just how intense it had become.

“What is that eye?! Is it the Fate Keeper? No! If it were the Fate Keeper, why hadn’t I ever seen it in Baiyu Jing?! What exactly is it?”

“Did the Emperor of Great Li bring it here? Is this the entire formation’s purpose? What on earth does this creature intend to do with it?”

“No, no—it doesn’t matter. I’m here for Xin Su and Bei Feng!”

Li Huowang pressed his hands against his temples in pain, then looked down at the ground before him, where a towering golden tree stood upright.

The trunk of the golden tree was slender and tall, resembling a pillar reaching toward heaven.

In Li Huowang's view, small figures were engaged in combat around the massive tree.

After a brief moment, he stopped with a headache, the sound too loud to allow any peace of mind.

“This won’t do! If I keep like this, I won’t even be able to get close!”

Quickly, Li Huowang pulled out a sharp spike from beneath his robes and drove it into his left ear, twisting it through the pain.

Then, he tore some cloth from his clothing and stuffed it into his right ear.

Though bloody, his makeshift solution worked. The sound in his ears diminished significantly.

Although still loud, at least his emotions could stabilize now, no longer easily shattered by the cacophony.

Li Huowang gritted his teeth and took trembling steps toward the great trunk.

As he drew closer, everything in the distance became clearer. Around the trunk of the giant tree, instead of leaves, were six-clawed golden dragons hanging.

These dragons weren’t alive, but they appeared deeply tormented. Their scales flared outward, revealing twisted horns and sharp spikes emerging from within. Various grotesque symbols pierced their bodies.

The dragons writhed in pain, impaled by countless sharp branches, while their faces were covered with the large faces from the palace walls—each dragon wore a human face, a bizarre sight indeed.

At the base of the tree’s branches, a solemn heavenly platform was built. Among the figures there, Li Huowang spotted several people.

Eunuchs with brooms and others dressed in various garb passed by without drawing attention. His focus was drawn to a man in dragon robe.

That was the Emperor of Great Li.

Dressed in a vast yellow dragon robe, he stood silently, gazing down at the enemies beneath the tree.

Li Huowang couldn’t see his face, as it was completely obscured by a crown adorned with golden pearls that hung from top to bottom, shielding his head entirely.

“Where is Bei Feng? Where is Bei Feng?” Li Huowang, hidden, peered closely beneath the massive golden tree.

Some of the people seemed intent on climbing up the golden dragons toward the heavenly platform above.

But a group of black-robed eunuchs, hanging upside-down from silk threads, repeatedly descended, wielding weapons and talismans, pushing the climbers back.

Their faces, distorted by the chanting, occasionally revealed the true mahjong suits beneath, confirming they were members of the Forgetful Dao.

Unexpectedly, the battle didn’t seem particularly fierce—both sides appeared to be waiting for something.

Li Huowang dropped to the ground, straining to observe the scene afar. He still remembered Xin Su Bei Feng’s ability—he could exchange bodies with others.

Now, at this crucial moment, Li Huowang didn’t panic. Instead, he endured the unbearable chanting and carefully searched among the members of the Forgetful Dao.

After a long, meticulous scrutiny of dozens of them, he eventually identified four Beifengs.

“Wait! Four Beifengs?” Li Huowang almost thought he was mistaken. But upon closer inspection, he confirmed that among the shifting faces under the strange chanting, four bore the features of Bei Feng.

“Fine, four it is. But how do I find the one heart-soul among them?” Li Huowang frowned at the situation ahead.

Moreover, the fight wasn’t intense enough—there was no opportunity for him to sneak in. Charging in now would only get him caught between two sides.

“What to do? They’re all here. Should I... go ask Zhuge Yuan for help?”

Thinking of Zhuge Yuan’s face, Li Huowang hesitated. Bringing him into such danger would only throw him into a fire pit.

“No, better to wait.”

Just as Li Huowang thought this, the Emperor of Great Li atop the heavenly platform began to speak.

“You still don’t give up? Do you really think I couldn’t guess you’d come to disrupt things? Every move you’ve made, I’ve anticipated. Today, even if two dice are rolled and barbarians with ill intentions join in, none can stop my plan!”

His powerful, resonant voice echoed in everyone’s hearts, instilling fear in some, causing them to turn away.

But the members of the Forgetful Dao showed no fear—they laughed mockingly, mimicking his tone and words in a mocking way.

A cold snort burst like a wave, and the Emperor turned slightly.

“Master of the State, please take action.”

At that moment, an elderly man, trembling, stepped forward holding a sword inscribed with the Twenty-Eight Stars. He stood upon the heavenly platform.

To the west, the golden wall suddenly trembled.

Li Huowang turned his gaze. A massive golden wall collapsed, and Zhuge Yuan, dressed in scholar’s robes, appeared before all.

With a judge’s brush in hand, his expression grave, he rushed forward swiftly, as if chasing someone in the Great Qi.

Behind him, people emerged like beans spilling from a bowl.

Without exception, they all wore the heads of mahjong tiles. They were all members of the Forgetful Dao.

As more and more people appeared, Li Huowang’s heart sank. “Impossible! Too many! This exceeds the number of tiles in a single game!”

Among them, some suits were especially strange. Plum, Orchid, Bamboo, Chrysanthemum, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter—all acceptable, but some bore the faces of the God of Wealth, cats, and mice!

“Heh heh heh, not possible? You’ve never seen it, have you? The mahjong of Great Li may lack it, but the mahjong of Great Qi has it,” said the illusionary Red Zhong with pride.