Chapter 374: I Have Many Men, Taoist

Chapter 374: The Old Man Has Many People

So it's the Reyang Palace folk—no wonder they can pull off such a pose.

Chen Qisheng felt a pang of disgust in his heart, twisted his lips, and said, "Speak up—what does the old man want?"

Xin Dian this time didn't even move his lips; a stiff voice emanated from within his body.

"I, a humble one, wish to ask the Daoist friend—do you know where the chance to attain a terrestrial immortal lies?"

"It seems that staying put brings no good fortune."

Chen Qisheng let out a long sigh, his hands sweeping across his temples, tying the loose strands behind his head, a cold glint flashing at the corner of his eye.

"All these money‑seeking folk come to me—do you truly think I’m Zhao Gongming?"

"This chance is too huge; even you alone can’t grasp it."

Xin Dian’s face was expressionless, his gaze hollow, his words dripping with arrogance: "Why not share the chance, join forces, and pursue it together?"

"Team up?"

Chen Qisheng lifted his chin, "How many paths do you know?"

"Mountain‑Water Youth."

"So it’s an old six, huh—those who don’t know might think a Daoist of five or four has arrived."

Chen Qisheng’s tone was mocking; he snapped his fingers and flames flared up behind him at once.

A pitch‑black flying sword leapt forth amid the warm glow spilling from the shops lining the street, its icy light piercing the air, eager to spring.

Unusual as ever, a sharp whistling sound suddenly rang from Chen Qisheng’s head.

A violet stream of light descended from the heavens, drawing near to within three chi above Chen Qisheng, then halted abruptly.

The black sword, sensing the provocation, rose up, tip pointing skyward, humming on its own.

Two swords appeared on the street, instantly stirring a chorus of startled cries.

The once bustling footfalls suddenly swelled into a roar, then faded to silence within moments.

The timid had already fled, unseen; the bold ducked behind eaves, eyes wide, watching a sight not just of Jiangshan City but, even across the entire Yǒu region, exceedingly rare.

"Playing with flying swords with the old man? Have you not woken from the Yellow Millet Cave?"

Chen Qisheng’s expression was disdainful; a rune etched with thunder patterns flew from his sleeve, arcs crackling as thunder rolled outward.

The once divine, violet sword, like a dormant insect stirred by spring thunder, dimmed its blazing tail, its body trembling on the brink.

A cold wind swept the street, lifting the snow upon the ground.

Through the snow‑blurred sight, a striking blue light gradually brightened before Chen Qisheng.

Only a rune hovered above Xin Dian’s head, its growing divine sense breaking through the thunder’s interference and re‑linking with the violet sword.

The violet light flared anew, the sword’s resonance ringing clear.

"One rune—your fire still falls short, friend."

Xin Dian raised a hand, white and slender to the point of near invisibility, and snapped his fingers lightly.

The azure rune trembled, splitting into three, landing upon the three blossoms of the human form.

A silent azure flash scattered the formless thunder; a white rune dropped with a dull “clang” onto the earth.

The black sword let out a mournful cry, its tail flame extinguishing; Chen Qisheng, swift‑eyed, reached out and caught the falling sword.

"Whatever the friend possesses, the poor Daoist also has; what the friend lacks, the poor Daoist still does."

Two lithe yellow‑turbaned warriors emerged from behind Xin Dian, stepping onto the snow‑covered street without a sound.

"Though both are of the same Daoist rank six, there remains a gap."

"Is the gap due to your ancestral grandmaster, or simply because the Reyang Palace has more money?"

Chen Qisheng’s face turned iron‑gray, seething with injustice.

"Wealth and law are one—treasure money is power."

Xin Dian’s smile at the corner of his mouth was unnaturally stiff, as if he were still unskilled at controlling his facial features.

"The carriages and horses are already arranged; if we keep fighting, you have no chance. Give up what you know, and perhaps a path to life remains."

"Xin Dian, huh? Don’t rush—if you can knock the old man down, you may ask anything."

Chen Qisheng’s words were muffled, as if chewing something, his right hand gripping a sword while his left fingers held a red rune.

Gurgle.

His throat bobbed, he smirked, flashing a row of ivory teeth, and shouted, "Come!"

Just as his words fell, two yellow‑turbaned warriors stepped forward, blocking Xin Dian.

But the next instant, instead of the expected torrent of cold sword shadows, a cluster of red fireballs exploded in the street.

Boom!

Suddenly, figures rose in the sky above the surrounding buildings; one, eyes blazing with fury, was a Night‑Demon from the Jiangshan City’s brocade guard.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire rained like a storm, hot bullets sweeping down, swallowing the azure‑glowing target.

"Chen Qisheng!"

"What’s the shouting about? Only money matters—don’t let the old man’s crowd be outdone!"

The one who moments ago surged forward now straightened, his demeanor haughty.

"Roar!"

A yellow‑turbaned warrior let out a beastly howl, breaking through the dense rain of bullets, lunging at Chen Qisheng.

Clang!

The black light that had just severed the violet sword whizzed back, crossing paths with the figure.

The body, stripped of gendered traits, remained frozen mid‑run, rigid in place.

Crack!

The rune on the warrior’s forehead split, a scarlet fissure falling onto the snow, starkly visible.

"Night‑Demon, cease fire."

Chen Qisheng called lazily, his hands tucked in his sleeves, shoulders swaying as he approached the smoky, kneeling figure.

The azure wooden rune, turned into a target by the brocade guards, shattered into pieces; another yellow‑turbaned warrior was pulverized by the bullet rain into scattered wreckage.

Humm.

The black sword, tip pointing upward, pressed against Xin Dian’s jaw, lifting his drooping head.

"Speak—what celestial grandmaster gave you the audacity? Have you not ascertained my current station before daring to trouble me?"

Xin Dian’s hollow eyes finally sparked with anger, brimming with resentment and unwillingness.

"Hah, you’re unwilling, huh? Very well, I’ll give you another chance—this time I’ll face you alone; go ahead, make your move."

One more step of sharpness, and it would pierce through that flawless face.

"You, Chen Qisheng, are not fit to be a Taoist at all!"

"You new-style Taoists have stripped away the flesh and even the human essence. The way of heaven aids the righteous and abandons the unrighteous. How can you claim to practice Taoism if you don't understand this principle?"

Chen Qisheng, spouting nonsense, suddenly grabbed Xin Dian's Taoist knot at the top of his head. His narrowed eyes glowed with a cold light.

"Taoist, I have no patience for this argument here. Why did you come to me? Who told you I know about the earth immortal's opportunity?"

Xin Dian ignored the murderous intent in his eyes and said coldly, "Threats are useless against the Taoist order. Have you forgotten that, Chen Qisheng?"

"If you don't speak, I'll forget it. Can you break the spell? Night Demon, lend me your prison."

Chen Qisheng sneered, "Taoist, I'd like to see if your divine consciousness can break through the prison and locate the Chongyang Palace in Huangliang Youyou!"

Panic finally flashed in Xin Dian's eyes. He struggled to raise his neck, his gaze fixed on Chen Qisheng.

"I said, don't take me into the prison."

"Speak!"

"It's a dragon."

Pfft!

The arm holding Xin Dian's Taoist knot suddenly pressed down, and the flying sword pierced through his neck.

"Taoist, I don't want to listen anymore."

Chen Qisheng calmly put his hands back into his sleeves and stood up.