Chapter 667: Dragon-Tiger Eats People (2)

Chapter667: Dragon and Tiger Devouring Men (II)

The frenzy on the opponent's face was deeply etched into Tang Daocheng's eyes; the concealed pity and mockery in his gaze, coupled with the despair that rose from his very bones, left even Tang Daocheng, accustomed to all manner of spies, frozen in place.

Out of nowhere, an utterly absurd notion sprang up in his mind.

He actually felt that the person before him was not mad, and that everything he said might be the truth.

"Dou Sanque, you madman, what nonsense are you spouting? Quickly shut your mouth for the Daoist!"

A sudden roar of anger rang out, scattering the horrifying delusion that had crept into Tang Daocheng's mind.

Tang Daocheng followed the sound and saw a portly middle-aged Daoist, shoulders draped in a white crane-feather robe, shouting anxiously while hurrying toward them.

He was the master of this hermitage, his family having been devotees of Longhu Mountain for generations, so he had long abandoned his secular surname and taken an antiquated, elegant name: Dong Qiaozi.

As soon as Dong Qiaozi appeared, he swiftly sized up Tang Daocheng inside and out; the special pattern on the cuffs of his Daoist robe proved he was an enforcer from the Daoist Palace, and his heart immediately sank.

To be noticed by these enforcers meant, even if one didn't die, one would surely be flayed alive. It seemed today he was destined to shed blood.

Dong Qiaozi sighed inwardly, lamenting his ill fortune—how could he suffer such a calamity? Yet his feet did not linger; he strode forward, kicked the raving Dou Sanque aside, put on a smile, and bowed repeatedly to Tang Daocheng.

"Disciple did not know that the True Person had graced us with his presence; I failed to welcome you properly. Please forgive my transgression, True Person."

Dong Qiaozi's kick was not light; it sent the man named Dou Sanque clutching his belly, curling on the ground, his lips devoid of color yet still opening and closing, muttering those blasphemous ravings.

"Are you Dong Qiaozi? I am Tang Daocheng, an enforcer registered with the Floating Liang Daoist Palace."

Tang Daocheng gave Dou Sanque a deep glance, then rose slowly, casting a sidelong glance at the trembling Dong Qiaozi.

"What is the matter with this person?"

"True Person, you may not know: this Dou Sanque is an outsider believer; he once followed the Lingbao Dao, but after Mount Gere was incorporated into our Longhu Dao State, he turned from darkness to light and came here."

While speaking, Dong Qiaozi did not forget to glare venomously at the Dou Sanque lying on the ground.

"In the northern city he is notorious as a Dao madman; he sold all his property to obtain a chance to enter the Gere Cavern Heaven, hoping one day to break the seal and enter the Dao. Yet his innate talent was wretched; he suffered a hundred years of futile toil within the cavern heaven without even touching the threshold of entry. Perhaps unable to bear this blow, he has become the lunatic we see now."

"So that's how it is."

Tang Daocheng nodded, not doubting Dong Qiaozi's words.

In the present Longhu Dao State, people like Dou Sanque are not uncommon.

After the 'Four Mountains and One Palace' all submitted to Longhu, the Celestial Master's Mansion, seeking to revive the Daoist order, opened the immortal roads widely, granting free access to cavern heavens for Daoist believers worldwide—but thresholds still existed within.

Initially every believer had a single free chance to enter the highest-level Longhu Cavern Heaven; only those who distinguished themselves there, earning the favor of the Longhu Mountain Daoists, could continue to reincarnate freely within the cavern heaven, eventually break the seal, enter the order, and leap to become registered Daoists of Longhu Mountain—thus separating immortal from mortal, defying heaven and altering fate.

Those who toiled in vain within the Longhu Cavern Heaven, gaining nothing, were deemed fated-less and excluded from the universal grace of opportunity.

Of course, if one felt one had merely underperformed on a single attempt, unwilling to accept destiny, and wished to re-enter the cavern heaven for cultivation, that was not forbidden.

But this required speaking in terms of immortal essence!

As long as your purse held enough immortal essence, it proved your immortal affinity remained.

From the Longhu Cavern Heaven above, to the Gere, Mao, Qingcheng, and Yongle Palaces in the middle, down to the modest cavern heavens of small sects and temples, all could be entered and exited by means of essence.

"Dou Sanque, this wretched soul, refuses to admit his lack of affinity for the Dao; he lingers in the cavern heaven linked to this hermitage of the disciple, wandering and cycling through rebirths, growing ever more mad, ever more obsessed—trapped in a loop, sinking deeper, unable to free himself."

Dong Qiaozi feigned a sigh: "Disciple pities him, a sincere seeker of the Dao, so I have not expelled him, hoping he might listen to a few lectures on the sutras for solace—doing my bit for fellow Daoists. Never did I expect him to become such a lunatic, and today he even offended the True Person; truly he deserves death!"

"Someone, throw Dou Sanque out!"

As Dong Qiaozi's words fell, several burly Daoists with tiger backs and bear waists rushed out from behind the hermitage's screen wall, seized Dou Sanque on the ground, and dragged him outward.

"Wait a moment."

The one who had been coldly listening to Dong Qiaozi's self-talk, Tang Daocheng, finally spoke; his attendant behind him stepped forward at once, raising a hand to block the hermitage's guardian Daoist.

"True Person, why do you do this?"

Dong Qiaozi wrung his hands nervously, his face tight as he watched this cold-faced enforcer.

"I have just heard your meaning: since Dou Sanque came to the Dao State, he has been cultivating in your hermitage all along?"

"Yes, that's right."

Dong Qiaozi, unable to fathom the other's intent, hastily explained: "True Person, if you do not believe me, the hermitage keeps records of every Daoist's entry and exit from the cavern heaven; they can be consulted at any time."

Tang Daocheng smiled thinly: "That won't be necessary; given your character, Dong Qiaozi friend, you would hardly deceive me over such a trifle."

"Of course, of course." Dong Qiaozi gave a sheepish grin.

"However," Tang Daocheng shifted his tone: "I observe Dou Sanque's demeanor; he bears no resemblance to an ordinary one who has lost the Dao, but rather closely resembles those whose minds have been bewitched by the Yellow Millet Ghost."

Tang Daocheng laughed: "Since you admit he has been cultivating all along in this hermitage, is it that he simply ran ill‑luck into a newly spawned Yellow Millet Ghost, or that your hermitage conceals a forbidden, inferior cavern heaven?"

"Injustice, True Person!"

Dong Qiaozi let out a mournful cry, bowing repeatedly with clasped hands.

"Disciple's family has served the Longhu Dao lineage for generations, our faith sincere and steadfast. Even in the difficult years when Longhu faced calamity, our Dao heart never wavered by even a fraction—how could we dare violate the Celestial Master's Mansion's edicts?"

Tang Daocheng watched Dong Qiaozi, who seemed ready to swear an oath on Longhu Mountain to prove his innocence, and could not suppress a cold smile.

From his experience, a small hermitage set in a slum that only linked to the orthodox cavern heavens sanctioned by Longhu Mountain could hardly make any profit.

Nine times out of ten, they secretly set up crude, shoddy Yellow Millet dream realms, masquerading as cavern heavens capable of refining the spirit; outwardly they claimed to be the secret realms left by some ancient Daoist sect destroyed centuries ago, efficacious as the proper cavern heavens but priced at a tenth, or even a twentieth, of the genuine article.

In truth, these secret realms not only fail to aid in breaking the seal and entering the order, they readily breed vicious Yellow Millet Ghosts; a moment's carelessness can cause the dreamer to lose both life and Dao.

Tang Daocheng could almost certainly affirm that this hermitage was indeed engaged in such Dao‑violating practices.

But today he had no leisure to quarrel with Dong Qiaozi over such trifles; his mission entailed far more important matters.

"Oh? Then it seems I have misunderstood; please, friend, do not take offense."

"True Person, what words are these? I dare not blame you; as long as the misunderstanding is cleared and my innocence restored, that is sufficient."

Dong Qiaozi drew a breath, gesturing to the bewildered guardian Daoist to drag Dou Sanque away.

"He who eats ten becomes a disciple; he who eats a hundred becomes a feathered scholar; he who eats a thousand becomes a high master; he who eats ten thousand becomes an immortal."

Dou Sanque was seized by both arms, his feet dangling, yet he continued to shout loudly.

"Make him shut up!"

Dong Qiaozi's hair stood on end with rage, a fierce light flashing in his eyes as he glared at the two Daoists.

The two received the order; silently they shook a thunder talisman from their sleeves and affixed it to Dou Sanque's abdomen.

The electric arc exploded, piercing skin and flesh, savagely tearing at the Dao foundation hidden within.

Dou Sanque's body spasmed incessantly, blood mixed with white foam spurting from his mouth.

"The Longhu demon seeks immortality; sever the Dao, dispel the dream, preserve peace. Myriads, myriads—do not become like me, waiting until it devours my wit, drains my strength, only then to awaken—by then it is too late to repent. Breath short, hair long, like a ghost; a skeleton with two streams of tears."

"Cultivating the Dao is like traveling a reverse road; there is no shortcut whatsoever. The cultivator of the Dao seeks nothing outward."

The shouting voice faded as the receding figures grew distant.

"True Person, do not listen to his ravings. In our Daoist order, cultivation is about affinity; the cavern heavens are the ladders bestowed by the immortals to ascend to heaven. This man merely resents his failure to attain the Dao, and his death is of no consequence."

"Do I not understand this?"

Tang Daocheng impatiently waved his hand, casting aside this interlude, shoved Dong Qiaozi aside, and strode toward the inner depths of the hermitage.

"True Person, True Person."

Dong Qiaozi hurriedly followed, muttering incessantly: "I have devoted myself to the Orthodox Unity tradition since childhood, laboring diligently for years, never daring to violate any edict of the Celestial Master's Mansion; I beseech you, True One, to see clearly."

Upon entering the antechamber of the sanctum, directly to the north stood a long counter, laden with myriad depictions of gods and Buddhas, soothing incense, golden-thread mats, and bronze gongs that could sound on their own—every implement to aid cultivation lay in abundant variety, nothing lacking.

Behind the counter rose a floor‑to‑ceiling red‑wood rack, holding chilled boxes of assorted elixirs and ostentatiously named artificial dao foundations—Heavenly Spirit Root, Earthly Spirit Root, Immortal Spirit Root, either claiming to embody the Five Phases or bearing the mystic appellation of Xuanhuang.

Moreover, numerous dossiers hung from the rack, displaying the names of the pocket realms entered by visitors and the timing of their reincarnations.

Tang Daocheng glanced over and saw nothing suspicious about the pocket realms; the cycles of rebirth were all ordinary.

“True One, I truly lack the audacity to defy the Daoist Palace’s orders; you must believe me, disciple.”

Behind him, Dong Qiaozi’s clamor never ceased, yet Tang Daocheng ignored it, having completed his circuit, he turned toward the practice area meant for ordinary patrons.

Those who cultivated here were linked chiefly to the lowest tier of pocket realms, and the treatment they received was correspondingly poor.

Within a cramped space no more than five zhang square, nearly a hundred people pressed together, each possessing nothing but a tiny mat beneath them.

No windows pierced the walls; the left and right entryways were draped with eight‑trigram curtains, while at the center stood a human‑tall bronze cauldron bristling with countless sticks of incense, its thick smoke roiling like fog in the sealed chamber, instantly inducing a faint dizziness upon inhalation.

The throng of believers entered dream‑state cultivation amid this wretched setting, their limbs nearly pressing against the shoulders of those before them, yet every face bore an expression of utter serenity and contentment; some seemed to have gained something in their dreams, their breath growing sharp, swallowing clouds and exhaling mist, whence a faint whistle could be heard.

“Heh, these incenses are solely for calming the spirit and aiding sleep; they fully meet the Daoist Palace’s standards and possess no hallucinatory effect.”

Dong Qiaozi feigned composure, yet his hands ceaselessly rubbed together in nervous agitation.

Tang Daocheng, after a single sweep of his gaze, withdrew his eyes and turned toward the other side, where a staircase led up to the second floor.

Below the steps, the projections of two golden‑armored deities kept watch; upon seeing Tang Daocheng approach, they cast reverent gazes, as if welcoming the descent of a lofty immortal.

“True One Tang!”

Tang Daocheng halted his stride, only to see Dong Qiaozi dart from behind and block his path.

“I have spoken nothing but kind words all along, yet you, True One, remain heedless, rampaging recklessly through the sanctum—what principle is this? If I have broken any rule, you may plainly state it; there is no need to humiliate me thus.”

Dong Qiaozi shed his former timidity, his tone turning cold and hard: “If there is nothing, then I advise you, True One, to return to your abode and not stir trouble that would embarrass us all. Since I am able to establish this sanctum within the borders of the Dragon‑Tiger Dao State, I am no soft persimmon anyone can squeeze; on Dragon‑Tiger Mountain there are immortals willing to hear my grievance.”

This shift in Dong Qiaozi’s demeanor was not because he hid some shameful secret on the second floor of the sanctum, fearing Tang Daocheng might seize a handle.

Rather, in the span of this moment he had already had someone investigate Tang Daocheng’s background.

The other party indeed served the Fusang Daoist Palace on errands, yet he was merely the lowest‑ranking executive daoist, his station barely above eight; he possessed no formidable pedigree, being simply one of the first ordinary daoists who fled with the virtuous families of Qingcheng Mountain, and upon joining Dragon‑Tiger Mountain was assigned to a post at the Fusang Daoist Palace.

In terms of status, Dong Qiaozi naturally falls short of Tang Daocheng.

After the Daoist ranks were unified on Dragon‑Tiger Mountain and the Dragon‑Tiger Dao State established, a wholly new hierarchy of rank and deference came into being.

The most exalted are naturally the immortals within the Celestial Master’s Mansion; next come the native daoists of Dragon‑Tiger Mountain; then those daoist lineages that have sought refuge there; followed by the mortal kin of those enrolled lineages; below them lie the faithful who have generationally served the Orthodox Unity tradition; and last of all are the ordinary believers.

Dong Qiaozi himself has not yet entered the ranks, falling far short of Tang Daocheng, who serves in the palace.

Yet when it comes to background, Dong Qiaozi fears nothing from him.

He has an elder who is a bona fide disciple of Dragon‑Tiger Mountain, once belonging to the Dragon‑Tiger Nine Divisions; although those divisions suffered grievous losses in the demon‑subduing battle and their stature waned, they remain bona fide members of the sect’s direct line.

Should the matter come to blows and the lawsuit be taken to the mountain, Tang Daocheng might not be able to withstand it.

“Dong Qiaozi, are you threatening this humble daoist?”

“I dare not.”

Dong Qiaozi snorted coldly: “As a True One bearing the duty of investigating, you may scrutinize any suspicious person within the Dao State’s borders; how could I, a mere disciple, dare to obstruct you?”

Tang Daocheng narrowed his eyes and said: “If you understand, then step aside.”

“I dare not obstruct, but if you are to act, you ought to produce a plausible justification—just which precept of the sect has my sanctum violated? Or perhaps—”

Dong Qiaozi had not finished speaking when Tang Daocheng’s iron‑like five fingers closed around his throat, his face instantly flushing crimson.

“An explanation?”

Tang Daocheng’s eyes gleamed ferociously, his voice low and grim: “Listen, Dong Qiaozi, I speak plainly: the affairs surrounding your sanctum—no matter if you have elders on the mountain, even if a relative of yours cultivates in the Celestial Master’s Mansion, they cannot save you.”

“The Fusang Daoist Palace has already secured concrete evidence: the Great Peng is hidden within your sanctum, and even those illicit pocket realms you have furtively cultivated were deliberately sold to you at low cost by them, their aim being to delude the devout believers of Dragon‑Tiger Mountain and spread slanderous rumors against the Celestial Master Zhang.”

“That very Dou Sanque from just now is the prime example!”