Chapter 110: Tang Buqi

Chapter 110: Tang Buqi

Zhao Changhe rode his horse back into Yangzhou City, his mind in a state of utter daze.

The matter of altering his meridians was simply too critical, leaving his thoughts far more tangled than usual, and he had drifted in a trance the entire way. It was only when he re-entered the gates and the distant, undulating clamor of the city filtered into his ears that he snapped out of it, silently chiding himself for still lacking sufficient composure.

Thus, one should not mock how foolish others were for blindly believing in the deceptions of a cult; it was merely a matter of whether they happened to strike at the thing you cared about most.

In truth, careful reflection made the answer obvious: even Cui Wenjing, with his immensely vast power, believed that changing the meridians was impossible without supreme heavenly treasures, and even Tang Wanzhuang, who commanded the nation's martial resources, avoided the topic. How could an ordinary sect of the jianghu solve this so easily? Even if they could, the price would surely be practically unbearable.

Either they truly possessed some ultimate treasure but would require you to become an absolute, groveling dog to ever lay hands on such a resource—a low probability—or it was a pure grift. When a man harbored a deep desire, his mental defenses would naturally be pried open bit by bit, sliding him step by step into an abyss from which he could never break free.

Last night, he had eavesdropped on Wan Dongliu and the pimp mentioning control through secret arts. Combined with what was said today about "someone coming to impart the law," it was basically a certainty: some celestial maiden would arrive to preach the faith and exchange fluids with him... Driven by his own desperate desire, he naturally wouldn't stiffly refuse her.

Furthermore, these dual-cultivation, essence-draining secret arts usually carried effects of spiritual control, or perhaps some method to leave one utterly obsessed and unable to break away. It was almost certainly that kind of routine.

Zhao Changhe let out a self-deprecating laugh; it seemed he still possessed some value after all...

As he was pondering, a sudden shout boomed from above to his right: "He who rides beneath the bridge, are you the Blood-Drenched Asura, Zhao Changhe?"

Zhao Changhe turned his head to look. It was a tavern, open-air on the upper floor without walls or windows, meant for guests to drink wine and admire the scenery. A young man stood with one foot on the railing, casting a slanted, disdainful gaze downward.

Behind the youth ran Wan Dongliu, anxiously pulling at him: "Brother Tang, Brother Tang, harmony breeds wealth..."

It appeared Wan Dongliu had invited this man to a meal, only for the man to spot Zhao Changhe passing beneath the bridge and fly into some unknown madness to initiate a provocation.

Zhao Changhe said flatly: "I am Zhao Changhe, but no Asura. And you are?"

The youth declared proudly: "Tang Buqi of Gusu."

"Understood." Zhao Changhe waved a hand: "Twenty-four years old, rank one hundred and twenty on the Hidden Dragon Rankings. You ought to learn more from your elder sister instead of coming out to drink flower wine."

"Sister?" The youth choked, his face turning rigid as he murmured: "Chief Tang is my grand-aunt."

"Cough, cough cough..." Zhao Changhe almost choked on his own spit. Inexplicably, Cui Yuanyang flashed through his mind, and he secretly wondered why she didn't have a grander generational status; it would be quite amusing to see a bunch of white-bearded old men calling her grand-aunt. Well, perhaps such people did exist, he just hadn't met them yet.

The stray thought flashed and vanished, and he teased aloud: "Be a good grand-nephew. Yangzhou is a place for grown-ups to play. Go home and drink milk."

Tang Buqi flew into a rage: "Rebellious rogue, how dare you speak such impudence! Take my sword!"

A stream of spring water seemed to cascade from the sky, hurtling straight toward Zhao Changhe upon his horse.

The railings upstairs were packed with people, and the surrounding pedestrians halted, tilting their heads to watch.

This was a clash between heroes of the Hidden Dragon Rankings! A rare sight indeed!

"Brother Wan," someone in the tavern remarked, "why does Young Master Tang's sword look so slow? Even I could dodge it."

Wan Dongliu smiled and sipped his wine without answering.

In truth, there was no need to answer, for before the man could even finish his words, the Longque blade upon Zhao Changhe's back suddenly leapt from its scabbard. It slashed right beside the path of Tang Buqi's sword; though they appeared inches apart, a crisp, sudden clash of iron and steel rang out.

Staring closely, the blade and sword had struck dead center, as if Tang Buqi had altered his sword's path at the last second just to deliver it into Zhao Changhe's blade.

The tavern instantly erupted into an uproar.

This clash between mere Fourth-Grotto fighters was already beyond the comprehension of most onlookers!

Unable to sustain his momentum in mid-air, Tang Buqi flew backward and landed firmly back on the tavern railing. He glared sharply at Zhao Changhe below, the disdain in his eyes vanishing entirely, replaced by utmost solemnity.

This man could actually see through the Spring Water Sword Technique at a single glance... And his blade momentum, though perhaps it was an illusion, why did it seem to carry a hint of the Tang family's intent?

The man who had previously asked Wan Dongliu why the sword looked slow had long since gone mute, well aware that had he been the one to receive that strike, his throat would already be a bloody hole. Looking with awe at Tang Buqi's back, he asked Wan Dongliu in a low voice: "Brother Wan, how do you explain this sword and blade?"

Wan Dongliu smiled and said: "The Spring Water Sword Technique is shimmering and unpredictable. If its path were so easily discerned by the likes of you, you too would be on the Hidden Dragon Rankings. Furthermore, Brother Tang's strike has formed its own aura, already possessing the air of a master. Even if I were to receive it, I would be left in great disarray."

Hearing this, Tang Buqi turned and gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, showing he accepted the praise.

After all, he had been forced back by a single blade strike on an open stage; everyone knew he had the disadvantage. Wan Dongliu's words prevented him from losing face.

Wan Dongliu continued: "As for Brother Zhao, his blade pierces illusions to strike the core essence. This is a combat intuition forged from a sea of blood in the jianghu, unmatched by ordinary men. Were you or I in his place, we could not achieve such effortless weight. What is particularly precious is that Brother Zhao seems to have glimpsed the path where rigidity and flexibility complement each other. In my view, eighty-eighth on the Hidden Dragon Rankings is too low for him; he ought to be ranked higher."

Zhao Changhe looked up at him and offered a faint smile, accepting the sentiment.

Helping him flex his might, wasn't it... Otherwise, since he didn't want to hurt Tang Wanzhuang's grand-nephew, this strike wouldn't have looked particularly powerful, and the display would have fallen flat. Having an amazed onlooker explain it was rather convenient.

Though it was hard to tell whether that last sentence held a hint of malice meant to remind others that Zhao Changhe was no longer what he used to be.

With his thoughts turning over, Zhao Changhe laughed aloud and rode off: "Grand-nephew, your sword isn't bad, but it still needs polishing."

Tang Buqi roared after him: "If I ever hear you speak irreverently of my family elder again, it will be a fight to the death between us!"

So it turned out that because he had mouth-offed about his aunt a few times before, this brat had come looking for trouble to defend his elder's honor... Your aunt herself doesn't even mind, so why are you so knotted up about it... Still, it was a decent reason. Zhao Changhe waved a hand carelessly, leisurely striking his horse across the bridge and vanishing into the streets in the blink of an eye.

As it turned out, he had still overestimated these young masters. Not long after leaving, a middle-aged man blocked the end of the street ahead: "A former wanted criminal, riding a horse through a bustling market, engaging in armed brawls... Your Excellency had better come with us to the Fiend Suppression Bureau."

"..." This Tang Buqi didn't entangle himself openly, yet he covertly summoned the Fiend Suppression Bureau to apprehend him. What kind of urban novel had he dropped into? Zhao Changhe was utterly speechless.

He had originally planned to find the Fiend Suppression Bureau to share some intelligence, but he couldn't exactly ask around openly for directions, making it impossible to execute. Now it seemed there was no need; the Bureau here might not even be reliable.

"My arrest warrant has already been revoked; my status now is no different from an ordinary citizen. If I am to be arrested for an armed brawl, then what of Tang Buqi's sword provocation? Is the Fiend Suppression Bureau the Imperial Court's Bureau, or the Tang family's Bureau?"

The middle-aged man looked somewhat embarrassed, glancing left and right at the distant onlookers, and could only say: "The revocation of your warrant was the Chief granting face to the Cui family; it does not mean you have been pardoned of guilt. Moreover, you come from a bandit background; what is your purpose in entering the city? It is the duty of this Bureau to question you clearly."

"I entered the city first for the romance of Yangzhou, and second for the talents of the south." Zhao Changhe reined his horse to change paths, too lazy to pay him heed: "Now that I have seen both, the romance is commendable, but the talents are mediocre."

The middle-aged man sighed helplessly, then suddenly transmitted his voice secretly: "The Maitreya Cult possesses spiritual illusions that will make you perceive them as close and reliable figures. Be absolutely careful, do not blindly trust them."

Zhao Changhe froze, though his face maintained an indignant expression as he rode away.

So this man was actually a true confidant of Tang Wanzhuang, likely aware of his "secret agent" identity. He too had been looking for a chance to communicate but found no opportunity; complying with the young master Tang's profligate demand conversely allowed him to meet openly.

This city... it seemed everyone lived under a grueling exhaustion. Whether orthodox or demonic, everyone was putting on an act.

Dark clouds gathered overhead, weighing down so heavily that everyone felt suffocated.

Meanwhile, Yue Hongling had followed Zhao Changhe all the way into the city. When Zhao Changhe was entangled by Tang Buqi, she did not wish to be discovered by Wan Dongliu and the others trailing behind. After a brief deliberation, she headed first to the Xiaoxiang Pavilion.

With a bit of scouting, she indeed quickly discovered several women bearing a strong aura of the Maitreya Cult's arts, laughing and changing their clothes.

One of them was particularly tall and handsome, her features lightly made up to reveal a vibrant, heroic spirit. Several brothel madams smilingly draped a red martial robe over her, tying her hair into a ponytail and straightening her collar: "Look at this appearance, is it not the living spitting image of Yue Hongling?"

Presumably, this was the so-called Flower-Picking Celestial Maiden. Even Yue Hongling had to admit the resemblance was striking.

The Flower-Picking Celestial Maiden said: "Mainly, this heroic spirit is a bit difficult to mimic; we aren't of that mold... Furthermore, if things truly become intimate with him, what kind of posture should I adopt? That part can't be hidden."

"It matters not. His mind is currently entirely consumed by the matter of his meridians. With the woman he secretly loves comforting him and imparting the faith, he will only sink deeper and take it for truth. Besides, what Yue Hongling looks like in bed, he doesn't know either. Even if you act a bit more seductive, it can just be blamed on your affection for him."

Yue Hongling: "..."

This was beyond endurance. Not only were they going to impersonate her, they actually intended to make Zhao Changhe believe he was coupling with Yue Hongling!

The Flower-Picking Celestial Maiden finished adjusting herself, looked into the mirror, and smiled: "It really is quite similar; even I can barely tell the difference."

The crowd laughed: "Let alone him, how well can he truly know Yue Hongling? Once the secret art is deployed with a bit of guidance, he won't be able to tell at all. Word says he is currently held up by Tang Buqi at the bridge fighting. You might as well go wait in his room. The moment that door opens and the girl of his dreams is sitting right there, the young lad's heart will probably melt."

The group smilingly escorted the Flower-Picking Celestial Maiden into Zhao Changhe's room before dispersing.

Inside the room, the Flower-Picking Celestial Maiden gestured through a few poses by herself, seeking the feel of Yue Hongling. Suddenly, her eyes blurred, and another Yue Hongling seemed to appear in the mirror.

She turned her head in horror, only for her vision to suddenly go black as she lost consciousness.

His mind heavy with worries, Zhao Changhe returned to the Xiaoxiang Pavilion and pushed open his bedroom door.

Yue Hongling sat by the table, pouring and drinking wine by herself. Seeing him enter, she offered a faint smile: "You're back?"

Holy shit, this illusion looks so fucking real! Zhao Changhe's heart pounded wildly. How the hell did they make her look so exactly like Yue Hongling!