Chapter 296: The Hour of the Rabbit (1)

Chapter 296: Mao Shi (One)

Above, Mount Fuji; below, Dog Mountain.

To rival Edo Castle in the heart of the Wa District in matters of custom, only the White Emperor’s ancient bathhouse, perched atop Dog Mountain and steeped in centuries of tradition, could suffice.

The upper chambers of this structure, known in the Wa tongue as a “bathhouse,” now echoed with faint, sensuous melodies.

Above a vast bath spanning several zhang in length and width, thick white mist clung like a veil, obscuring all but the darkest outlines.

A hulking figure lurked within, its movements serpentine, churning the waters into turmoil.

The relentless surge of scalding water sent several pale, lifeless bodies drifting toward the pool’s edge, their faces downward, colliding endlessly with the wooden-paneled walls.

Each corpse bore distinct dark bruises at the throat—marks of being strangled to death.

Splish!

A grotesque face, its features twisted with coarse flesh, emerged from the water, its muscular arms cradling a severed, beautiful head.

“Another one’s dead.”

The old crone crouched by the pool, silently tallying the floating bodies, her visage a portrait of anguish and despair.

Including the one in Autumn Crane’s grasp, five of her carefully trained Yinren girls had perished.

This was nothing short of a catastrophic blow to her enterprise.

Yet despite the fury simmering within, her expression betrayed not a flicker of defiance.

For she was but a minor workshop master of the ninth rank in the agricultural sequence, unworthy of provoking a high-ranking executive like Autumn Crane.

“Tou Po, your girls lack skill—they collapse before I’ve even exerted myself.”

Autumn Crane stood in the pool, the water now only reaching his chest, a height that would normally submerge a person entirely.

“You are a warrior of the sixth rank, Master Autumn Crane. These girls are unranked, raw flesh and blood—how could they endure your might? Surely you understand?”

The old woman dared not meet his gaze, her eyes averted to hide the pain and rage within.

“Then what shall we do? My rage still burns!”

Autumn Crane’s face hardened with a palpable desire, his narrow eyes glinting coldly. “Do you have no ranked courtesans in your employ? Or do you presume I lack the means to procure them?”

“Master, you jest. Even if I had the audacity, I’d never question the wealth of a branch manager like yourself.”

She bowed repeatedly, her voice laced with forced mirth. “But those are merely modified warrior-flesh, crude and unrefined—I fear they’d displease you.”

“True, warriors bore me. Their very way of embracing is mechanical, nothing but rot clinging to steel.”

Autumn Crane’s face twisted in disgust, his eyes gleaming with frost. “Yet I’ve heard your agricultural sequence excels in fleshly refinement. You monopolize the White Emperor’s customs—surely you possess a few ranked, raw-blooded specimens? Impossible?”

“Such techniques belong to the great agricultural enterprises of the imperial homeland. I’m but a lowly madam—how could I master them? Training these Yinren has already drained my coffers.”

She clasped her hands beneath her brow, bowing deeply. “If Master Autumn Crane remains unsatisfied, I have other girls.”

Autumn Crane sneered, revealing a lewd, malevolent grin. “What sort of wretches are they? Speak.”

“The Takeda Clan’s Silent Mastery Edition, the Oda Clan’s Warring States Edition, the Ohime’s Devil Horse Edition.”

“I care nothing for Wa District trinkets. Bring me something of true lineage.”

Autumn Crane cut him off, his tone sharpening. “Today, I seek only genuine blood to quench my thirst!”

“Then there’s the Wu Zetian Ascension Edition, the Yang Yuhuan Consort Edition, and the Da Ji Divine Edition. These were imported from the imperial homeland, so the selection is limited.”

“Fine. Those three.” Autumn Crane’s eyes gleamed.

“At once, my lord.”

The old woman bit her lip, retreating backward on her knees, slowly exiting the mist.

The pool stilled, its gentle currents washing over Autumn Crane’s form.

Yet his blood boiled, unspent, and his face twisted in irritation.

“Li Jun.”

A beast-like growl rumbled in his throat, his gaze sharpening with hatred.

As head of the Dog Mountain branch, Autumn Crane was a key figure in the Huang Shi clan, one of the nine great lords under General Huang Shi.

Yet the clash with Li Jun the previous night had left him humiliated.

Worse still, that accursed ink-armored warrior had willingly followed a wild warrior of uncertain fate.

Meanwhile, he, heir to a legitimate martial lineage, had never experienced the dominance of the old warrior sequence’s “armored might.”

“If not for that ink armor, how could I have suffered such indignity?!”

Autumn Crane seethed inwardly. “These treacherous ink warriors—when the Huang Shi clan rises again and returns to the imperial homeland, you’ll know the wrath of a true warrior!”

“A pack of self-degraded wretches, mingling with Wa folk to survive—dare you call yourselves warriors?”

A chilling voice rang out.

In that instant, Autumn Crane’s hairs stood on end. He turned, stunned, toward the doorway.

“Li Jun?!”

The white mist enveloping the chamber surged aside, splitting like a blade’s cleave. A piercing cold light pierced through.

Autumn Crane’s face contorted in shock—not only at the realization that all three floors of the White Emperor’s peak were occupied by Li Jun’s men, but at their audacity to strike him. Had the Imperial Guards gone mad?

The blade-light was upon him, leaving no room for scattered thoughts.

He twisted aside, his arms clamping like a vise around the attacker’s weapon-arm.

“Slaying peasants not enough? Now you dare assault the Huang Shi Group? You West Suburb Office are mad!”

Before he could finish, a thunderous roar split the air.

“Dragon’s Cry, Liver-Devouring Dragon!”

The next second, the mist dispersed, revealing Li Jun’s angular visage.

That dragon-like resonance came from his very lungs!

In Autumn Crane’s bewildered gaze, Li Jun’s body swelled, towering over him. His arms bulged with sinewy veins, coiled like serpents around muscles that rose like hills.

An irresistible force struck—Autumn Crane’s grip was torn apart, his palms bleeding profusely.

The Crimson Spring Blade spun in his hand, its back cleaving into Autumn Crane’s face, sending him flying into the outer chamber’s floor.

“Sixth Grade Technique, Great Circle Perfection.”

Autumn Crane lifted his head, panic flooding his eyes. His cheek was a ruin of flesh and blood, his entire form disheveled.

Li Jun’s towering figure emerged from the pool, his once-pale skin now tinged yellow.

The fleeing mist was drawn into his mouth, coalescing into white threads that spurted from his nose.

Stepping onto the pool’s edge, Li Jun plunged the Crimson Spring Blade into the ground.

In this state, blades were ill-suited; fists were his true weapon.

At that very moment, a violent commotion and shouts of killing arose from below.

"Abandon all resistance, forfeit this life! Stubbornly unrepentant, forever cast into the imperial dungeon!"