Chapter 350: Dream Infiltration (4)

Chapter 350: Dream Infiltration (IV)

The long saber and the silver staff collided, emitting a sharp, piercing clang.

Their standoff lasted only a heartbeat; the Yanling waist saber, forged in countless battles, finally let out a metallic lament of overload, snapping in two.

In the twisted eyes of the Heavenly Dog Venerable, a flicker of excitement sparked; brandishing his staff, he pressed the advantage with a sweeping strike.

Suddenly, Zhou Sijiu crouched, rolled, and at the instant the staff swept over his head, his short blade thrust into the hanging ring of the staff with thunderous speed, pinning the opponent's weapon to the ground.

He stepped forward, shoulder raised, elbow striking the exposed chest of the Heavenly Dog Venerable; his left hand, unrelenting, hammered a punch into the foe's face.

“Ah!”

The Heavenly Dog Venerable emitted a muffled groan of pain, staggered backward, his crimson wooden mask cracking, revealing a grotesque visage half man, half demon.

Zhou Sijiu's pupils contracted; he sensed a familiar contour in the Venerable's countenance.

“Mingzhi Changye?!”

The Heavenly Dog Venerable swayed, its numb skull throbbing where the broken nose bled, intensifying its murderous intent.

*Crackle!*

Its fists clenched, the black‑red monk's robe stirred without wind, blue arcs of electricity leapt from the rosary hanging at its chest.

“This has gone too far; we’re all hand‑to‑hand, yet you still resort to sorcery.”

Zhou Sijiu gazed at the specter‑like monster before him, sighing wearily: “Sun Qianyuan, how terrified are you of these foreign peoples?”

Before his words could fade, the Heavenly Dog Venerable vaulted upward, its twin fists the size of bowls wrapped in azure lightning, slamming down upon Zhou Sijiu.

“You dread the Black Dragon Capital, I understand—being seized from the Empire’s heartland, treated like livestock, anyone would fear. Yet this fear has become absurd. You call yourselves Dao‑school, yet when did you grow so cowardly?”

Zhou Sijiu, heedless of the lightning raining down, fixed his gaze on the crouched figure beside the campfire: “Did you lose the chance for a soul‑binding? Now you’re nothing but a hollow wretch.”

“Ah!”

The Heavenly Dog Venerable roared in the air, its lightning‑wreathed body exuding a savage aura.

“Did I ever say you were noisy?”

Zhou Sijiu finally lifted his head, a sneer of contempt curving his lips.

He flicked his wrist; a short‑barreled firearm slid into his palm, its obsidian muzzle aimed at the Venerable’s grotesque skull.

*Bang!*

A flash of flame erupted from the barrel, the bullet tore through the thin veil of lightning, embedding itself in the Venerable’s brow, shattering the head into fragments.

Zhou Sijiu brushed away the lingering smoke, stepped back a pace.

*Thud.*

The headless monster crashed from the heavens, sliding across the ground until it halted just before his toe.

“Do not cheat within the Yellow Millet Dream while playing tricks on a Yin‑Yang practitioner; if you dare wield sorcery, I shall draw a gun.”

Zhou Sijiu grasped the terrifying firearm and approached Sun Qianyuan.

The latter still kept his eyes shut, his face speckled with fear and bewilderment.

“If you think this nightmare can safeguard your access, you may continue to feign ignorance. I could simply shoot you now and expel you from this Yellow Millet Dream.”

Zhou Sijiu knelt, the barrel resting on Sun Qianyuan’s brow.

His index finger pressed the trigger, the gun’s mechanism clacking mechanically.

“I cannot believe a native Yin‑Yang master still walks the Black Dragon Capital’s soil.”

“Are you an isolated force, or do you collude with the enemy?”

“If I were colluding, would I personally link into your dream?”

“I cannot believe a native Yin‑Yang master still walks the Black Dragon Capital’s soil.”

When did you realize I had awakened?

“The moment that great Heavenly Dog appeared, I knew.”

“Why?”

“I am at least a Dao‑school Seventh; even if not personally orchestrated, my subconscious could forge such malice.”

It is because you do not know who I *invoked*.

“In the real world we cannot, in the Yellow Millet Dream you cannot; arts have their specialties—so you need not ask, for you would not understand.”

Moreover, my rank surpasses yours; exposing your deception is no trouble.

“Very well.”

Sun Qianyuan, without further probing, raised a hand toward the cold embers; warm firelight flared anew.

Outside the Mountain God Temple, the raging snowstorm abruptly ceased.

In the suddenly silent world, Sun Qianyuan’s voice rang crystal clear.

“You infiltrate the Black Dragon Capital, even link into my dream—what do you seek?”

“Everyone knows the answer; there’s no need for such a question.”

“It would be better to ask; otherwise I truly cannot resist.”

Sun Qianyuan chuckled bitterly: “I broke the lock at twenty‑three, becoming a Dao‑school Ninth disciple. Then I spent a full decade to ascend to a Golden Core adept. I know my talent is meager among the Dao; yet I possess a modest virtue—thrift.”

“For years I have been frugal, refusing fine swords, refusing superior talismans. Even the private Yellow Millet caverns of others I opened to all, merely to earn more coin.”

He pointed at his own nose, gazing at Zhou Sijiu, self‑mocking: “You could not imagine a Dao‑seventh Golden Core adept, owner of a cavern, reduced to scraping for a single engraved talisman’s production line.”

“Many peers denounce my deeds, even some disciples have abandoned my shrine; but I do not care. For I know that mastering sufficient authority grants a seat in the White Jade Pavilion’s celestial class, where I may reclaim what I have lost tenfold.”

“Yet alas.”

Sun Qianyuan sighed: “Stinginess weakens combat; against the Black Dragon Capital I wielded no defense, was captured, and now I stand here. All my accumulation became another’s inheritance—how laughable, how bitter.”

Zhou Sijiu fell silent, disapproving of Sun Qianyuan’s conduct yet unable to deny it outright.

No matter the age, as long as humanity is born through primal means, disparity persists.

The fortunate are born with superior genes, their lineage dominant; advancement is as effortless as drinking water.

The unfortunate are born with meager talent; even after artificial refinement, their ceiling is quietly sealed.

The grueling struggle often merely serves as an excuse for the ordinary to console themselves.

“The grievances have finally been vented; I feel much lighter.”

Sun Qianyuan smiled: “My final question—if I grant you authority, can you safely escort it out of the Black Dragon Capital?”

“I cannot guarantee it.”

Zhou Sijiu’s tone hardened: “But only by handing them to me will the Dao‑school believe my words and aid your vengeance.”

“I am dead; does vengeance matter?”

Sun Qianyuan let out a laugh, “But handing it over to you is also a fine choice, far better than those cheap little Japanese dogs.”

He lifted his hand, and the bright yellow talisman, held within the palm of a deity statue, floated forward and slowly fell into Zhou Sihua's grasp.

Boom!

Beyond the temple, the heavens, barely quieted, erupted with a deafening thunderclap.

A torrential rain, bearing hail, surged forth, punching fist‑sized holes into the roof.

Yellow millet life is but a dream.

Sun Qianyuan stretched lazily, smiling at Zhou Sihua, “After so long a nightmare, it’s time to end it. Come, give me a swift end.”

As you wish.

Bang!

The gunshot echoed faintly in the distance, soon swallowed by the roar of the storm.

Zhou Sihua’s world before his eyes began to tremble and warp, the blue tiles, red blood, orange fire, all hues swiftly withdrawn, leaving only a barren black‑and‑white void.

Just as his sight was about to dim, within the rumbling rain, Zhou Sihua seemed to hear a few faint, ethereal hums.

Advance unyielding through the Japanese realm, part the mist to see the light; when millet flowers bloom, the Peony Pavilion awakens, fantasy turns to true, song and peace rise.

Friend, please take care.

Zhou Sihua abruptly opened his eyes; the scene before him told him he had returned to the real world.

He suddenly sat up from the platform, spitting a mouthful of fresh blood onto Mingzhi Changye’s face.