Chapter 486: The City Bathed in Blood (3)

Chapter486: The City Drenched in Blood (Part Three)

“Little brat, where do you come from?”

“Jiangxi Jianchang Prefecture.”

“What’s your name?”

“Surname Chen.”

“Just a surname, no given name?”

“I am a sweep‑boy specially supplied by the local Daoist enterprise; I bear only my father’s surname, no personal name. If you, Daoist Master, need a form of address, you may call me by my trainee number among this batch of sweep‑boys: seventy‑three. Chen Seventy‑three.”

“As for Dragon Tiger Mountain these days… ah, forget it, from now on you’ll follow me.”

“Thank you, Immortal Master, for your choice.”

“Don’t speak like that from now on; it lacks any humanity, and I, the Daoist priest, don’t like it.”

“All right.”

“Now that you’re my attendant, I ought to give you a name; we can’t keep calling you Chen Seventy‑three every day, brat. What would you like to be called?”

“Actually, Master, you needn’t trouble yourself; the one who gave us our pre‑service training said that if we are selected we will be bestowed a Daoist name, so we don’t need our birth names.”

“To hell with that dog’s fart—I’ll decide this myself. Let me think… tell me, what do you like most, or what do you most want?”

“Devoted to the Dao, I beg for longevity.”

“Speak plainly.”

“I want to live.”

“You’re an honest lad; from now on you’ll be called Qisheng—a humble name that might help you live better. Chen Qisheng, starting today, you are my disciple, Sun Lugong.”

“I shall obey the Immortal Master’s command.”

“From now on don’t call me Daoist Master; just call me by my name.”

“But according to Dragon Tiger Mountain’s rules, I should address you as Immortal Master.”

“We’re human, not immortals. Save that title for the day we truly become immortals—or just call me Master.”

“Master, why can’t I, like my fellow disciples, go to the Armaments Bureau to receive cybernetic implants?”

“Body, hair, and skin are received from one’s parents.”

“That saying comes from the Confucian Classic of Filial Piety, but I am a sweep‑boy and have no parents as defined in that text.”

“You little brat, still talking back? Come on, tell me what good those foreign implants do.”

“Master, it hurts… I just think that after implantation cleaning will be easier.”

“You’re not just a sweep‑boy; you’re my disciple, Sun Lugong. I am an old‑school cultivator, so you must be one too!”

“I understand, Master, but why did I suddenly sprout an extra spiritual aperture on the back of my head? Look, right here.”

“Pay no attention to that; besides this, you must not touch any other cybernetic augmentations!”

“Master, what exactly is an old‑school cultivator?”

“First answer me: do you know why our sect is called Dragon Tiger Mountain?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because we old‑school cultivators are the dragon and tiger! The new‑school cultivators are merely the mountain.”

“What mountain?”

“A puny little twerp.”

“Master, ah”

“Where do you get all this talk?”

“Master, ah”

“Huh? Why are you looking so dejected?”

“They say we old‑school cultivators aren’t really dragons or tigers at all, just relics of a bygone era. If it weren’t for the Celestial Masters’ mercy, our names would have been erased from the nine divisions of Dragon Tiger Mountain long ago.”

“Who’s spouting this bullshit? Come on, let’s go find him, Master.”

“Don’t.”

“Hey, what happened to your face? Did you get into a fight?!”

“Master.”

“Ah, never mind, Master doesn’t blame you. I just want to know: did you win or lose?”

“I won—I took on three of them and came out on top!”

“Winning is good! From now on, if anyone dares to talk nonsense, give them a good thrashing; if anything happens, Master will cover for you.”

“Master, are old‑school cultivators really that formidable?”

“First wipe the cat urine off your face, then Master will explain it slowly.”

“Master, look, I’ve wiped it clean.”

“Martial Sequence—have you heard of it?”

“I have! My fellow disciples say they were once the fiercest sequence, smashing the immortal elders of many temples to pieces.”

“We old‑school cultivators are the sole entity among the Buddhist, Daoist, and Confucian schools capable of facing them head‑on.”

“That formidable? Then why… now.”

“When the birds are gone, the fine bow is stored away.”

“Master, I don’t understand.”

“You dimwit, we eat too much; they can’t afford to keep us—surely you get that now?”

“Huh? Then I’ll eat less from now on.”

“Enough, what could a belly like yours possibly hold? Hurry up and go practice internal alchemy in the cave‑heaven.”

“This month the sect’s allotted time for us has run out; we can’t get in, Master.”

“Then go practice swordsmanship!”

“Master, ah”

“What’s wrong now?”

“Someone’s knocking at the door.”

“Damn the Dao Ancestor’s grandma, they dare show up here? Grab your weapons!”

“Master, Master!”

“What’s all this wailing and yelling, you brat—did you stir up trouble again?!”

“No, I… I’ve been promoted to a new sequence!”

“Really or fake?”

"It's true!"

"Good boy, worthy of being the disciple of my, Sun Luyou's."

"Heheh."

"Here, take this thing."

"A longevity lock? Master, I'm not a child anymore, what are you giving me this for?"

"What do you know? Remember to carry it with you from now on, don't take it off even when eating or sleeping, you hear me?"

"I remember."

"Master."

"Hmm?"

"It's snowing."

"I'm not blind."

"Don't you think these snowflakes look like woodblock talismans?"

"...I have no money."

"But you are the grand Chief of the Dou Department!"

"You brat, what are you trying to say?"

"Last time my senior brothers and I picked a fight with people from the other departments, but before we could even get close, we were smashed black and blue by their talismans."

"Stupid! Who told you to run in a straight line? Don't you know how to flank them from behind?"

"They had talismans on their backsides too..."

"Whose disciples are so rich? Tell your Master, I'll go demand compensation for medical expenses right now."

"Master..."

"Alright, alright, look at your face, your Master was just joking with you. Look at what this is."

"A flying sword?!"

"That's right, its name is Zhuangyuan. In the future, if you fight with others again, just stab them with the sword!"

"Awesome!"

"Master, why are there fewer and fewer people in our Dou Department? Where did all the senior and junior brothers go?"

"Qisheng, if I asked you to go practice in another department, would you be willing?"

"No."

"Why?"

"We have our own home, why should I go anywhere else?"

"Isn't your biggest dream in this life immortality?"

"Yes, but my name is Qisheng, after all. When you become an immortal in the future, I'll just beg you for it. Could it be that you won't give it to me?"

"You brat, can't you have a bit of backbone!"

"Master."

"Hmm?"

"Even if one day only the two of us are left in the Dou Department, it's actually enough, right?"

"Yes, fewer people means peace and quiet."

"Don't be discouraged, Master, look at what this is?"

"So many talismans?! Did you boy rob the Celestial Master Mansion?"

"Heheh, a portion of these really did belong to a kid surnamed Zhang."

"Your courage is truly getting bigger and bigger, you even dare to beat up people from the Celestial Master Mansion?"

"Master... someone is knocking on the door."

"Say I'm not here."

"Master, this time in Chongqing Mansion I met a practitioner of the martial sequence."

"What, did you lose the fight?"

"We didn't fight, he was actually quite decent."

"Then making a friend is not a bad idea."

"Master, I'm leaving for the Japanese Sector."

"Understood, come home early."

"Master, I can't return home anymore."

Frames of past memories flowed past his eyes one by one, weighing down inch by inch upon Chen Qisheng's heart.

"The only valuable thing on the old man was that Earth Immortal seat. If your Zhang family wanted to take it, you could have just taken it. Why did you have to kill him?"

His calm gaze pierced through his disheveled, hanging hair, staring fixedly at the figure standing before the Zhulu Platform.

The successor of Mount Longhu's Celestial Master Mansion, a Dao Rank Four Youhai Jade Pilgrim, the eighty-fourth seat among the Baiyuqing Earth Immortals, Zhang Qingsheng.

"Why? WHY!!!"

The tone of his interrogation grew higher with each shout, until at last he was practically screaming himself hoarse, the sound echoing continuously down the desolate, empty street.

Zheng!

The flying sword Zhuangyuan lunged out furiously from behind Chen Qisheng, the whipping wind it carried plowing a deep trench into the street surface, sending bricks and stones turning up to trail behind its fiery tail like a roaring dragon of dust, its momentum terrifying.

"Sun Luyou, Chief of Mount Longhu's 'Dou Department', Daoist name Xuandou, was detained by the Celestial Master Mansion for violating sect rules. During his detention, he confessed fully to his crimes. He brought it upon himself, and his death is not to be pitied!"

Zhang Qingsheng's voice was frigid, his figure completely motionless as two talismans rose of their own accord behind him, spewing columns of scorching fire at the incoming Zhuangyuan.

Cishi!

As the two collided, Zhuangyuan seemed to plunge into a quagmire, struggling violently and continuously, yet utterly unable to advance a single inch further.

Weng...

The black flame-light at the sword's hilt quickly dissolved under the washing fire, and a tiny crack emerged from the tip of the sword, spreading across the entire blade in the blink of an eye.

"Shut up!"

Chen Qisheng dashed at full speed, both sleeves of his Daoist robe exploding into fine powder to reveal two arms carved completely with tiny seal script characters.

On the left arm, the Scripture of Severing Evil Entities; on the right arm, the Incantation of Demon Slaying and Evil Extermination.

This was precisely the final life-saving treasure that his Master, Sun Luyou, had left for his disciple Chen Qisheng in the past—a Fourth-Grade Daoist Patriarch Dharma Artifact.

"No wonder we searched the entire Dou Department and couldn't find it. So this Longhu Daoist Mechanism was on you all along."

Zhang Qingsheng spoke expressionlessly, "Today it is only right that it be reclaimed by the sect together."

"To hell with your sect, and to hell with your Mount Longhu!"

Thepent-up fury and hatred in Chen Qisheng's chest burst forth at this moment, Dao patterns flowing through his body as he surged headlong into the blaze, gripping the hilt of the Collision Abyss sword with both hands, he cleaved straight at Zhang Qingsheng's head.

Pfft!

A filament-thin golden ray swept across the sky above the long street, vanishing in an instant.

Street lamps, buildings, signs, and pillars on either side of the avenue—anything touched by the golden thread—showed a flawlessly smooth incision, all tilting and collapsing in unison.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Amidst a succession of explosions, Chen Qisheng's figure was enveloped in a cloud of gunpowder smoke, tumbling backward and hurtling away.

The blade of the Collision Abyss had been utterly shattered, leaving only its hilt still clutched in Chen Qisheng's hand.

A scarlet line of blood traced from his left abdomen up to his right shoulder; were it not for the Dao patterns covering his whole body, Chen Qisheng would surely have been split into two icy corpses.

The clouds parted, moonlight poured down, illuminating the blood‑stained silhouette standing amid the ruined street.

A sudden wind rose, sweeping down the street, brushing his hair, fluttering his robe’s hem, scattering loose stones that rattled across the ground, while the lingering banner of the Guest‑Luring snapped in the gust.

A heavy, oppressive pressure that made the heart pound descended from the heavens.

If anyone looked up now, they would be startled to see that the night sky had suddenly blossomed with a dazzling array of stars.

“A star‑official spirit who relies on the protection of my Zhang ancestors, and moreover an antiquated cultivator who ought to have been discarded long ago, dares to wield a Dao‑Ancestor artifact from the Heavenly Tracks before my very eyes?”

Zhang Qingsheng ignored the celestial portent before him, his expression contemptuous, and with a casual flick of his hand toward the firmament...

In an instant, the flowing night wind ceased abruptly; though the stars and moon overhead had not yet faded, their former oppressive force was gone.

Just as everything seemed to be settling back into calm under Zhang Qingsheng’s sweeping sleeve, a startling change erupted once more!

A sudden weight descended like a mountain landing on Chen Qisheng’s shoulders, bending his spine.

Thud.

Chen Qisheng slammed onto one knee, head bowed, blood pouring from his body like rain.

“Now I, Zhang Qingsheng, acting in the stead of the Dragon‑Tiger Mountain Celestial Master’s Office, strip Chen Qisheng of his Dragon‑Tiger Mountain Dao status, reclaim all his Dragon‑Tiger Mountain Yellow‑Millet privileges and his right to use Dao‑Ancestor artifacts; my word is law, effective immediately.”

As the chilling words left his lips, the stars hung in the heavens flickered in unison.

A bolt of lightning split the night sky, falling from the firmament and instantly engulfing Chen Qisheng’s silhouette.

Boom‑rumble!

The blinding white light of the thunder vanished in a heartbeat; in a crater a zhang wide, instead of the charred corpse Zhang Qingsheng had expected, flickering azure‑crimson Dao patterns danced.

Composed of countless minute Dao sigils, the pattern spread up Chen Qisheng’s arms, flowing and intertwining, devouring the lingering lightning still clinging to his flesh.

“How dare you arbitrarily alter the ownership of a Dao‑Ancestor artifact?!”

Zhang Qingsheng’s face darkened, his voice icy: “Sun Luk‑you, you truly deserve death!”

As Zhang Qingsheng, blazing with rage, prepared to point his halberd at the sky to summon more thunder, a cold gleam slipped into the corner of his vision.

A long sword thrust forth silently from the darkness!

Yet just as the blade’s edge was a hair’s breadth from Zhang Qingsheng’s neck, a dense mesh of metallic threads erupted from his Dao robe, instantly enveloping the sword.

Dragon‑Tiger Talisman Record, Golden Seal: Binding Shackles!

Hum!

The sword hummed, and in the instant the surrounding metal wires were about to close inward, it whirled in a circular slash, severing every strand, breaking free and hovering beside Chen Qisheng.

Zhang Qingsheng touched his throat; the dampness on his fingertips made his expression grow ever grimmer.

“You are a Black‑Armor of which branch of the Ink‑Sequence Matrix Hall, yet you dare to meddle in this affair?”

“The Central Branch, Changjun. What still, you’ll go tell on me? Go ahead— isn’t there an Ink‑Three hiding nearby? You don’t know? Oh right, you’re not even qualified to converse with the great masters of Sequence Three.”

Light and shadow played along the blade, projecting forth an unremarkable man who squatted beside the pit, utterly vulgar, casting a contemptuous glance at Zhang Qingsheng and spitting fiercely.

“We’re all Dao‑sequents of the same sect; must we drive our own people to such extremes?”

Zhang Qingsheng snapped coldly: “This is an internal matter of Dragon‑Tiger Mountain; it’s not your place as an outsider to interfere. I advise you to step aside, or you’ll bear the consequences.”

“And that iron lump behind you locking up my elder brother—could you do me a favor and get the hell out of my face? Your mouth is full of filth, what nonsense.”

The wraith known as Changjun, heedless of whose words were more vulgar, turned his gaze to the figure that had risen again in the pit: “Kid, can you still fight?”

Thud.

A bloody, glistening cerebral mechanism was tossed into the dust, fragments of flesh and nerves still twitching upon it.

The gruesome sight made Changjun’s eye twitch involuntarily, and he muttered to himself: “Abandon the Yellow‑Millet dream, revert to pure flesh and blood? This kid is truly ruthless.”

The simultaneous surge of agony in soul and flesh made Chen Qisheng lurch forward a step, yet just before he would have fallen he planted his foot firmly, steadying his swaying body.

The long sword slid slowly before him, its light revealing a tattered Dao robe and a pair of eyes weary and weak yet still icy.

“Help me kill him. I give you this life.”

Chen Qisheng seized the hilt with his right hand’s five fingers; in that instant a ripple spread from the blade’s tip, instantly reaching the arm that gripped it.

Amid the clamor of densely meshed machinery, a suit of silver‑white armor encased Chen Qisheng’s entire form; the azure‑crimson Dao patterns no longer clung to his skin but were etched, character by character, into the left and right arm plates, extending from wrist to shoulder.

Profound and solemn, dignified and austere.

Chen Qisheng’s tightly shut eyes snapped open, his gaze sharp as a blade slicing through the dim night, fixed upon the damned man!

“Zhang Qingsheng!!!”

Clang!

The spear’s tip swept aside, lifting a massive beast’s claw; Zou Jiujiu’s eyebrows shot up as he used the momentum to spin mid‑air, planting his feet against the towering cliff behind him like an arrow loosed, and brought the swinging spear crashing down upon the monster’s grotesque head.

Bang!

The beast winced in pain, yet instead of retreating it lunged forward, flinging its head sideways to slam straight into Zou Jiujiu.

A fierce gust blasted his face; suspended in mid‑air, Zou Jiujiu had nowhere to dodge, so he gritted his teeth, braced his spear before him, and prepared to meet the impact head‑on.

Thud.

Zou Jiujiu’s body, flung backward, slammed hard into the rock face, from which a vast web of shocking cracks spread outward.

“Damn it, it’s just a single rank difference—why is the gap so huge?”

Zou Jiujiu, in a sorry state, dodged Lü Chou’s sudden pounce that followed close behind, stifling the urge to cough up blood, he gripped his spear and sprinted wildly across the circular arena forged for this death match.

Lü Chou, transformed into a vicious beast, trailed behind at a leisurely pace, apparently savoring the cat‑and‑mouse thrill.

“Could it be that this time, Lord Zou, I am truly going to fall here?”

Zou Jiujiu lifted his head, unwilling, and glanced at the enormous seal characters floating in the sky.

Si Er Jiu.

This is his current Zouzi ranking, signifying that he has already exhausted seventy‑six back‑door techniques, yet……

“Damn it, I’m already in this state—how can that woman’s rank still be so high? It makes no sense!”

Yi Yi Er.

After this fierce battle, Lü Chou has lost only four of his back‑door tricks.

Roar!

The evil voice came again from behind, and Zou Si-jiu hastily turned to block it, only to be slammed forward as if a beast's claw the size of a carriage had swept him away.

"Even if you've been taunting me with words, made me fall for the 'anger' backdoor, temporarily locked up my other simulation choices, and forced me into a beast form, what difference would it make? The gap between you and me is still insurmountable, do you understand? Three-five-three."

The giant beast, resembling a hyena, opened its bloody maw, but the words that emerged were Lü Chou's mockery: "No, I should call you Si Er-jiu now."