Chapter 185: King Of Hell's Invitation

Chapter 185: The Death Note

The boat owner, initially furious after being struck, held his temper, covering his cheek and swallowing his anger without a word. The Cao Gang wasn’t exactly afraid of the Wang family, but they weren’t keen on escalating a minor scuffle among underlings into a real conflict—most likely, the blow would go unanswered.

The man’s gaze swept across the bow, landing first on Xuan Chong, who had risen to his feet: “Daoist Xuan Chong, indeed here.”

Xuan Chong was taken aback: “Your tone suggests you came looking for me?”

“Correct. We went to Mount Tai a few days ago; your master said you’d been wandering south for some time, so we followed southward. By chance, we heard someone say they saw you on a Cao Gang boat, so we came specifically to meet you.”

Xuan Chong frowned slightly: “What’s so urgent that you must find me?”

The man produced something that looked like an invitation: “Our young master’s birthday. He specially invites peers of the Hidden Dragon List to a feast. Our group was assigned the task of inviting those ranked tenth to twentieth—we cannot fail.”

“Just for that? Blocking someone’s boat, forcing your way aboard, and striking people?”

“A mere boatman dares defy the Wang family’s will? A beating is nothing—what of it?”

Xuan Chong’s expression darkened. Because of him, his friend’s subordinate had been struck, and he was deeply angered. Yet, his Taiyi Sect and the Wang family were within the same province—not close, but they’d cross paths often. A fight would bring trouble to his sect, so he held back, merely flicking his sleeve: “I have no interest in associating with your young master. I won’t attend the feast. Please leave.”

The man sneered: “Not everyone on the Hidden Dragon List is guaranteed a spot at our young master’s banquet. Understand, the Hidden Dragon List only measures potential, not strength. But potential might never turn into strength before one dies—what’s the point? The young master’s intent is that if someone’s so-called potential is mere fame, they’re not worth inviting.”

Even a clay figure would be riled by such words. Xuan Chong finally erupted in fury: “So you mean to test my mettle first?”

The man said arrogantly: “Exactly. If you can best me, even if you’re not on the Hidden Dragon List, you’ll be qualified to attend. If you can’t, it’s not about whether you accept the invitation—it’s that you have no qualification!”

Xuan Chong had no desire to take the invitation, but goaded by these words, he couldn’t help drawing his sword with a clang, sneering: “Then I’ll just snatch the invitation and tear it up.”

Before his words faded, the burly man who had been sitting by the chessboard, hands tucked, suddenly stood up. He swept a leg in a horizontal kick, aimed straight at the man’s crotch.

Startled, the man twisted to dodge, but the swift kick naturally transformed into a step like walking on waves. The seemingly clumsy, stout man moved nimbly to his side, and a palm as broad as a winnowing fan came crashing down toward his face.

The man dodged again in haste.

The palm turned into a phantom; fingers bloomed like flowers, brushing against the vital acupoints on his chest.

The man’s body went numb, strength draining in an instant.

The big man leisurely grabbed him by the collar with his left hand and, with his right, rained a flurry of slaps across his face, knocking out a tooth.

The big man chuckled: “I thought you were something. With skills like this, you dare to weigh the heroes of the world? What a joke!”

The next moment, the man felt as if he were flying through clouds, and with a crash, he was thrown into the river.

The big man clapped his hands and spat into the river: “The barbarians are storming Yanmen Pass, and your young master is so mighty—why not go measure up against Chi Li? Damn it, tell your young master to save his banquet for his mother. Idiot!”

The man floundered in the water, shouting: “Who are you, daring to provoke the Wang family? Dare you leave your name?”

Xuan Chong finally laughed out loud: “You’re in charge of inviting ranks ten to twenty, right? He didn’t offend you—you were going to test him anyway, just a bit early.”

The riders on the shore stared at the big man’s face, suddenly recalling a name.

“The Bloodthirsty Asura, Zhao Changhe…”

A man’s name, a tree’s shadow.

Most figures on the Hidden Dragon List actually had few battle records. Many were recognized early on for a single outstanding feat acknowledged by the Book of Chaos, with few notable deeds afterward. Wan Dongliu and Tang Buqi were typical examples—one kept a low profile, the other truly stagnated. The young master’s testing wasn’t entirely baseless; Xuan Chong hadn’t shown much lately, reportedly humiliated by Chi Li—perhaps he was just coasting on reputation.

But Zhao Changhe, in over half a year, had galloped and slashed, truly a butcher. Just days ago, he’d killed a general before a fortress and escaped unscathed. In that environment, even if he’d only cut down a watermelon, it would be worth boasting about for a year. Had they known he was here, these men might not have dared to “test” him—his heavy battle record needed no verification.

Yet this fellow carried no signature broadsword, and his moves were elegant—who would recognize him?

The man slapped and thrown into the river fell silent, letting his companions rescue him. Only when ashore did he say meekly: “Had we known it was Young Master Zhao, we wouldn’t have dared to test. Our young master instructed us to invite you without fail—no invitation needed.”

“Damn,” Xuan Chong laughed in exasperation, shaking his head as he sat back by the chessboard, too annoyed to speak further.

Zhao Changhe also laughed in anger: “I still liked your arrogant attitude from before. But to me, your young master’s actions are as stupid as they come—I’m afraid of catching it. I’m not going.”

The man touched his cheek, sensing the task slipping away. His mind raced for a solution, then a flash of inspiration struck: “The young master will have many old acquaintances present. Are you sure you don’t want to see them?”

Zhao Changhe said: “Yue Hongling isn’t even on the Hidden Dragon List anymore, and I doubt she’d care for such nonsense. Xia Chichi—I suspect you can’t even find her, and if you did, she wouldn’t bother. What other old acquaintances? Cui Yuanyong or Han Wubing?”

The man forced a smile: “Young Master Cui won’t come, as he’s engaged to our young lady—etiquette forbids meeting before the wedding. But Miss Cui Yuanyang of the Cui family will attend.”

“…” Zhao Changhe hadn’t expected Cui Yuanyang to be allowed out so soon; he hadn’t thought of her. Stuck for words, he waved a hand after a long pause: “I’ll see how things go.”

His expression had drifted off, even unconsciously showing a hint of a fond smile.

It had been so long—he really wanted to see that little girl, wondered if she was still as adorable.

The onlookers all thought: We liked your arrogant attitude from before too…

The farce ended like that. The remaining riders helped the one with the missing tooth onto his horse, and the group slunk away.

The boat owner came forward to thank them: “Thank you both for avenging me.”

Xuan Chong waved dismissively: “I’m ashamed—I couldn’t openly defy them, only drew my sword when pushed too far. Far less heroic than Brother Zhao, who gave the Wang family no face at all.”

“I just couldn’t be bothered to wait for them to swagger up and say they wanted to test me. What a joke!” Zhao Changhe said. “Brother Dao, since you know the Wang family, any idea what this feast invitation is really about? Just a party? That’s too idiotic, isn’t it?”

Xuan Chong gave a wry laugh: “More likely, he’s inviting them as sparring partners to test his sword. Going out alone for training isn’t convenient, so he gathers the Hidden Dragon List talents from all over to practice with. There have been similar cases before—people even killed by accident. In a way, this invitation might as well be called a death note…”

Zhao Changhe was stunned: “That’s too outrageous. Isn’t he afraid of offending the whole world?”

“Generally, receiving an invitation from the Wang family is considered an honor. Going for a sword test doesn’t mean you’ll be killed by mistake. If you can build a good connection, it benefits the future.” Xuan Chong sighed. “Not everyone is like you, who had ties with the Cui family from the start, and doesn’t look up to these top-tier clans. Most people are either afraid or eager to curry favor.”

“Too arrogant. Seems like the Cui family has better upbringing.”

Xuan Chong thought to himself that wasn’t necessarily true—Cui Yuanyong and Cui Yuanyang might be decent, but others? Individuals never represent the whole class. To outsiders, the Cui and Wang families are no different, and the Wang family’s behavior wouldn’t faze the Cui family—after all, they’re still marrying into each other.

Besides, the Wang family was the empress’s clan—the late crown prince’s biological mother.

The true circumstances of the crown prince’s death were now the subject of hundreds of theories, with no one certain. Tang Wanzhuang had never mentioned it to Zhao Changhe; perhaps even she didn’t know.

Seeing Zhao Changhe lost in thought, Xuan Chong said: “Of course, I’m not sure if that’s the purpose this time—just guessing. Maybe it’s nothing. Brother Zhao, does this mean you’re actually considering going?”

Zhao Changhe snapped back to reality, grinning: “I hope it is. I want to see just how much of a death note they can be!”