Chapter 406: Yin-Yang Four, Zhuang Zhou's Butterfly

Chapter 406: Yin and Yang Four, Zhuang Zhou's Butterfly

Phhh!

Luo Cheng's wrist, twisted with force, spews a hot, stenchy fresh blood that splatters all over his head and face.

At the same time, the fist sweeping the chaotic world has already assailed him, striking his shoulder with brutal force.

Crunch.

Half of Luo Cheng's body, like being hit by a cannonball, roils with putrid flesh and shattered limbs flying in all directions, his vision dimming almost instantly.

The turbulence swirling around his body is also blown away by a far more ferocious force, dragging his mangled corpse outward.

Life and death on a razor's edge, a moment of desperate combat.

Luo Cheng's features contort ferociously, bristling with a cruel ferocity rare among new sect disciples.

Only to see the golden seal characters affixed to the sword's blade suddenly emit slender threads, binding his right hand that grips the sword to the hilt with ruthless certainty, heedless of the danger of breaking his hand.

Sss!

Amid a grating, tearing sound of parchment, the chaotic realm's abdomen is nearly bisected waist‑high; within that horrific wound, twisted organs writhe.

At the instant the sword is about to be yanked from the chaotic realm's body, Luo Cheng's nearly desiccated neural spark erupts a final strand of spirit power, igniting a fire seal that blasts upon the chaotic realm's head!

Boom!

Scorching flames erupt, setting the dilapidated cottage ablaze.

Clang!

The shattered sword‑star pierces the earth, cleaving a crack dozens of feet long, finally halting Luo Cheng's uncontrollable body.

"Ha."

Luo Cheng gasps, his vision a swirl of darkness; his hands clutch the sword‑star, barely standing, the synthetic blood oozing from his ruined flesh forms a white 'blood pool' at his feet in the blink of an eye.

Flames rage, warping the cold air.

Luo Cheng, suppressing the dizziness rising from his mind, forces his eyes wide, fixating on the faint silhouette amidst the fire.

"Are you truly a simulation within Mingzhi Qingxiu's dream, or a genuine sect's martial sequence?!"

One breath. Two breaths. Three breaths.

The desiccated spirit makes Luo Cheng feel each day stretches like a year; white blood drips from his brow to his nose, then to his lips.

If it were ordinary, his spirit would never be swayed by such minute sensations, but now he cannot restrain his body; instead, instinct from his genes takes over.

He flicks his tongue, tasting the synthetic blood on his lips, a revolting sour‑bitterness churning within.

Almost simultaneously, Luo Cheng can no longer resist the tide of drowsiness; his eyelids, like iron gates weighing a thousand jin, slam down.

Hum.

The sword‑star in his palm begins to throb with uneasy agitation.

On the brink of fainting, Luo Cheng suddenly snaps his eyes open; his trembling sight meets a charred, distorted visage pressed to his nose!

"Ah!"

Luo Cheng lets out a startled roar; instinctively his right hand lifts and swings forward, his staggered form collapsing in an ugly heap to the ground.

No pain as expected, nor the legendary heavenly conduit light of a life‑death clash; even the unbearable fatigue vanishes.

"Ha... ha ha ha."

The suddenly enlightened Luo Cheng slowly rises from the ground, brushing dust from his robe while emitting a cryptic chuckle.

"I thought I had become a force, yet I spar with a martial fourth and it's a back‑and‑forth—clearly I am dreaming."

Luo Cheng lifts his head slowly; the middle‑aged woman, Mingzhi Qingxiu's stored consciousness, lies pierced through the chest by the sword‑star, nailed to a chair.

In the last chair of the vertical row, the seated figure slowly removes his hood, revealing a breathtakingly cold, ethereal face.

"Heh, Auntie, may I ask— is this still a dream?"

At that moment Luo Cheng can still smile, though his eyes blaze with icy fury.

"In the Yellow Beam Heavenly Cavern, rumor says that the elder brother of the Luozong clan of the Gua Zhuang sect, Luo Cheng, is whimsical in joy and anger, slaughtering countless in idle talk— the rumors have not deceived."

Mingzhi Qingxiu replies softly: "I can tolerate your provocation twice, never a third. Should you remain obstinate and refuse this bargain, I shall kill you now and seek another sect."

"No!"

Luo Cheng 'clangs' as he draws his sword‑star, flinging the middle‑aged woman's corpse aside, snatches a chair, turns to face Mingzhi Qingxiu, and sits opposite her.

"The people of Longhu Mountain are too proud to accept bloodlines outside their own; the Maoshan are dull‑witted, the Qingcheng are timid, the Changsheng Palace weak—aside from our Gua Zhuang, which of these houses would take you?"

Mingzhi Qingxiu, confronted with the cultivator's retort, falls silent for a moment.

"Do you know why I seek you?"

"What is there to be surprised about?"

Luo Cheng adopts a matter‑of‑fact tone: "The Ruo school may now watch from the shore, but they cannot control Su Ce's brocaded guard. After the Edo turmoil, the guard openly hunts you, while we hunt you in secret— you are surrounded on all sides. When you approach me now, you either wish to cling to Gua Zhuang's leg for survival, or have another purpose?"

"Since you know, why still act?"

Mingzhi Qingxiu extends a slender finger, pointing to the two corpses behind Luo Cheng.

"You refer to those two probing attempts?"

Luo Cheng laughs: "Those were orders from above. They wish to gauge your strength; if you cannot even defeat me, what value does Gua Zhuang hold?"

"Do you think I would believe your words?"

Mingzhi Qingxiu instantly sees through his deceit.

She knows her own tokens of power lie far beyond Gua Zhuang's consideration.

Luo Cheng's earlier actions were not directives from Gua Zhuang's elders, but his own intent to kill her.

"Truth or falsehood matters not now."

"Indeed, it does not."

Mingzhi Qingxiu's fingers, hidden within her robe, clench tightly; after a pause, she cuts to the chase: "I can give you the High Heaven Origin."

Luo Cheng raises an eyebrow: "Can you wield it? If my knowledge is correct, this artifact was co‑crafted by the four houses."

"That need not concern you. I can use the High Heaven Origin as a bargaining chip, and I have my own assurance."

Mingzhi Qingxiu shifts tone: "Do you think Gua Zhuang fears my deceit?"

"What is there to fear? It is a simple exchange— hand over money, receive goods."

Luo Cheng laughs: "I merely wonder— a dream as tiny as a Yellow Beam cavern, smaller even than a fourth‑level heavenly cave, what use could Gua Zhuang have for such a thing?"

Mingzhi Qingxiu fixes her gaze upon him, seeing his mockery unabashed.

"It seems you lack even the qualification to know the truth, or perhaps you never informed your sect's higher-ups."

Luo Cheng's expression darkens; he merely wrinkles his brow, saying nothing.

"Regardless of your motives or role, you and I shall cease further discourse today."

The woman's cold visage curls a faint, contemptuous smile; she rises slowly and walks toward the doorway.

“Take my terms back. So long as Gezao Mountain guarantees my safety, sees me out of the Wa Zone, and aids my ascension to Dao Sequence Four, I will hand over Takamagahara on a silver platter.”

“Quite the list of demands.”

“Takamagahara, bought with the lives of hundreds of the Mingzhi clan, is worth far more than this.”

“Its worth isn't for you to decide—it's for Gezao Mountain to decide!”

Luo Cheng rose abruptly, turning back to fix his gaze on that slender, retreating figure.

“There are things you are not yet qualified to know at your level, nor qualified to decide.”

Mingzhi Haruhide did not pause his steps; at the very instant he was about to push the door open and leave, he suddenly whipped his head around.

“I advise you not to hide anything, or the upper echelons of Gezao Mountain will not let you off.”

*Hum.*

The Feixing Chuanxing sword trembled incessantly; Luo Cheng clenched his fists tight, a frigid killing intent suffusing his eyes.

Yet not until Mingzhi Haruhide's figure had vanished completely did he refrain from striking further.

“A fine Yin-Yang Four you are, Zhuang Zhou's Butterfly.”

Luo Cheng slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, sneering to himself: “Next time I catch your true body, you'll find out if this Dao Master is qualified or not.”

Suddenly, Luo Cheng's face turned exceptionally ugly; the surrounding scenery, from who knows when, began to dissipate like sand and dust in the wind.

The entire dwelling collapsed with terrifying speed; in the blink of an eye, the very ground Luo Cheng stood upon was fully exposed to the moonlight.

Even that disc suspended in the heavens melted like a candle at this moment, moonlight dripping like water droplets toward the earth.

“Zhuang Zhou dreams a butterfly, a butterfly dreams Zhuang Zhou. This Dao Master has well and truly fallen for it this time.”

Luo Cheng smiled bitterly and sighed, closing his eyes with a look of utter dejection.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself still standing before that courtyard bearing the plaque 'Shuri City South District No. 275', still standing in that puddle of filth before the gate.

His Daoist robe was damp with dew, as if hinting that Luo Cheng had stood here all night, never having left.

By now the horizon was brightening; sparse pedestrians appeared on the surrounding roads, gathering in twos and threes, staring at him with strange expressions.

“Seems I was caught the moment before I entered. Never mind that she crushed my dao heart, she even made a fool of me before these ignorant commoners. This woman... truly petty.”

Thoughts whirling, Luo Cheng lifted his gaze and swept it across the crowd; the onlookers scattered with a clamor.

Just as he prepared to leave, a flicker of astonishment crossed his face.

“That waste Luo Tian is dead?!”

Luo Cheng rubbed his brow. “Troublesome indeed. Dead, and still leaving me errands to run.”

Amidst fragmented mutterings, Luo Cheng's figure vanished into the gradually bustling streets of Shuri City.

As for the warning Mingzhi Haruhide left at the end, it had long since been tossed to the back of his mind.

Was it more important for Gezao Mountain to obtain Takamagahara, or for him to secure a substitute Earth Immortal quota?

For Luo Cheng, there was absolutely no need to think it over.