Chapter 199: One Drunk In The Underworld

Chapter 199: A Drunken Underworld

Having dominated the world for so many years as a terrifying fiend, Suzaku was truly a woman of vast experience, a figure whose composure could rarely be shaken.

She had believed that even if Mount Tai collapsed before her eyes, it would not leave her so utterly distraught and soul-shaken.

Yet at this very moment, her mind was a complete blank.

Had a newcomer to the Four Symbols Sect—or even Xia Chichi—been put in this situation, the shock they experienced would not have been half as severe as Suzaku's. Others in the sect would likely think this was simply the legacy of the Night Emperor, bow their heads in immediate submission, and leave it at that.

But Suzaku's understanding was entirely different.

As a grandmaster of her generation and one of the world's few elite powerhouses, her understanding of martial arts was rivaled by almost no one beneath the heavens; when it came to the foundational principles of the Four Symbols Sect, even Xuanwu would not dare claim a definitive advantage over her.

In Suzaku's heart, it had never even crossed her mind that such a thing could ever happen.

Even if Xia Longyuan’s legacy possessed the magnificent grandeur to encompass a hundred rivers and the myriad manifestations of the stars, it could not possibly invoke the harmony of the constellations with such effortless ease. One had to know that the martial arts system of every single star was distinct; let alone Xia Longyuan being merely the undisputed supreme of this era, even in the previous epoch, barely anyone could achieve this—as far as Suzaku knew, the Night Emperor was the sole exception.

If anyone could truly reach this stage, Xia Longyuan could have simply strode openly into the Four Symbols Sect, declared himself the Sect Master, and caused everyone to fall to their knees in submission; absorbing the Four Symbols Sect would have been as simple as sharing a meal, so why would things have ever devolved to the present state?

At most, Xia Longyuan had harmonized with the aspect of the Azure Dragon, leading Chichi’s mother back then to mistake him for the Sacred Son of the Azure Dragon; it could not possibly be what was happening now.

Now, if it were the legacy of the Night Emperor, achieving this would indeed be possible. However, in Suzaku’s understanding, even if the Night Emperor himself were to perform this feat, it was not something that could be accomplished by someone who had practiced martial arts for a mere half a year and stood only at the fourth tier of the Mysterious Gateway.

Practicing martial arts for a mere half a year—how many styles could he have possibly seen?

With a cultivation of only the fourth tier of the Mysterious Gateway, even if you had glimpsed every martial art under heaven, how much of it could you actually comprehend?

By what right could he accomplish this?

It was utterly incomprehensible.

If... if he really was the successor to the Night Emperor, or perhaps even the Night Emperor reborn? What would that mean?

Should she kneel?

Fortunately, her mask concealed her expression, so Zhao Changhe only sensed that Suzaku was profoundly shocked, never guessing that she was so stunned she had lost the capacity for thought. Seeing her remain silent for a long while, he spoke up: "It seems the Venerable One is not entirely clear on my situation either?"

"Uh... yes." Suzaku offered a couple of vague, perfunctory nods, her mind wandering far beyond the heavens.

Zhao Changhe said: "I don't think you need to trouble yourself over it, Venerable One. Your original intent was quite simple—to give me a taste of sweetness so I would know the immense benefits of joining the sect, and also to see if I am compatible with the Four Symbols Sect's techniques to determine what position I might be given if I join. Am I correct?"

"Yes..." Suzaku murmured, still entirely lost in thought.

"Whether I am compatible is hard to say for now, but at least I have come to recognize the benefits of joining." Zhao Changhe stood up and bowed. "Thank you for your guidance, Venerable One. This method will greatly alleviate the difficulties I face in my internal cultivation. Regardless of whether I join the sect, I remain deeply grateful and owe you this favor."

Suzaku finally snapped out of her daze a little, thinking to herself that if he wasn't compatible with their techniques, the Sacred Sect's secret methods for aiding breakthroughs ought to be reclaimed; how could they be allowed to leak out for nothing?

And how would they reclaim it? Killing him would be the reclamation. The Demon Sect never minced words or acted with courtesy.

To this moment, Zhao Changhe had no inkling that Suzaku, who had been negotiating back and forth with him so amiably, had harbored a contingency plan to murder him just moments ago.

But at this very instant, all such thoughts vanished completely.

Forget about killing him; Suzaku was currently pondering whether she ought to fall to her knees, and if she did, she would still have to repent for ever harboring a murderous intent.

No, this matter had to be discussed with Xuanwu; she could not make a judgment on her own. Before establishing contact with Xuanwu, she had to continue observing him to find out what on earth was going on!

Suzaku took a deep breath, feigning an air of indifference as she spoke: "That Zhao Changhe is a man who remembers favors, this Seat believes. However, this technique is ultimately not a permanent cure; finding a way to expand your meridians remains the fundamental solution."

"I understand."

"Since that is the case, mention no more of conditions like finding a cultivation partner. Let us leave this matter here for now; your situation is exceedingly bizarre, and this Seat must ponder it further."

Suzaku finished speaking and fled the room as though running for her life.

If she did not leave immediately to calm herself down, she feared that staying any longer would leave her lacking the courage to even look him in the eye.

Zhao Changhe had never imagined that the thoughts in Suzaku's mind could be so absurd, though he was currently just as perplexed about his own condition.

Unfortunately, this method of imparting techniques directly into the mind's eye was far too advanced; Zhao Changhe had no idea how to manifest it for the Heavenly Book to analyze, nor did he even know what to write if he tried to copy it down from memory...

In his own estimation, this bizarre phenomenon that even Suzaku could not decipher likely had something to do with his long-term companionship with the Heavenly Book.

This page of the Heavenly Book had originally been held by the Night Emperor, so it was only natural for it to share countless intricate connections with the Four Symbols Sect; there was a distinct possibility that it was the very source of the sect's martial arts. Having long occupied the macro-perspective of the Heavenly Book, which surveyed all martial arts under heaven, did his condition perhaps correspond to the stars filling the sky?

From this perspective, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to consider himself a successor to the Night Emperor. Of course, Zhao Changhe didn't dare voice such a claim; he wasn't even certain if this was the reason, and the probability of being hunted down for his treasure far outweighed the chance of others bowing their heads to him in allegiance.

Looking at it this way, once matters here were concluded, he ought to make another trip to the Ancient Sword Lake to see what else could be discovered within the sword chamber, and to visit an old friend while he was at it.

To explore the secrets of the eras and unravel the mysteries of the Heavenly Book was actually far more important to Zhao Changhe than whatever petty affairs the Wang family was involved in... If it weren't for the fact that both Chichi and Yangyang were here, he wouldn't have bothered at all with whatever schemes the Wang family was playing at.

Zhao Changhe stood silently in place for a moment. The fifth-tier internal true qi he had just broken through to began to slowly condense like mist, merging into the blood and qi around his body, transforming into a surging, tempestuous baleful aura.

The customary operation of using the Liuhe Divine Art to propel the Blood-Fiend Art...

Why had he been in no rush for so long, yet suddenly desired a breakthrough during these past few days?

Wang Daorong had just witnessed with his own eyes that he was merely a practitioner of the fourth tier of internal arts and the fifth tier of external arts; in the blink of an eye, he had advanced a step in both. He believed no one would ever be able to foresee this.

The sixth tier of the Blood-Fiend Art, right here and now.

...

Time flew by, and the birthday banquet of the Wang family's young master, Wang Zhaoling, finally arrived.

This banquet had caused quite a stir during this period. Not only had the Wang family dispatched men everywhere to seek out figures on the Hidden Dragon Rank with an incredibly arrogant and overbearing attitude, but even after others accepted the invitations, they still had to be "tested and evaluated" to be deemed worthy of attending. For a time, public opinion was in an uproar, and the entire world watched closely.

This was especially true under the grand premise of the barbarian invasion and the Maitreya rebellion, with mountain bandits and outlaws occupying various regions in numbers too vast to count, plunging the entire nation into utter chaos. At any moment, the barbarians might breach the pass tomorrow, and the Maitreya rebels might march north the day after. To still have such leisurely whims at a juncture like this truly caused the perceptive men of the world to shake their heads in dismay.

Some felt this was merely standard operating procedure for the great noble clans—so arrogant, overbearing, and utterly brainless that there was nothing special about it.

Others shared the same view as Guichen, believing that the Wang family was testing the hearts and minds of the people under heaven.

Yet whether they were numb to it or cursing it in rage, in the end, not a soul dared to say "no" to the Wang family.

The imperial court remained silent, and the various noble houses were quiet. Even Tang Wanzhuang, who was currently in Jinling fighting the Maitreya rebels, merely shook her head and remained silent when asked about the matter. Of the invited Hidden Dragons, apart from those who could not be found like Han Wubing, or those tied down by urgent matters like Tang Buqi and Wan Dongliu, the rest all accepted the invitation.

Well, that was what the Wang family claimed; as for whether those who failed to appear truly couldn't be found or simply refused to come, no one knew for certain.

Outside the Langya Wang Mansion, countless vagrants and martial artists from all over had gathered to watch the spectacle, forming dense rings of crowds three layers deep, primarily to guess who would show up; some had even set up betting pools for it.

Judging solely from this bustling, fervent scene, no one would ever imagine that this was a nation plagued by internal strife and foreign aggression, tottering precariously in the wind and rain.

"They're here, they're here!" a wave of whispers rippled through the street.

A young Taoist priest and a man carrying a massive broadsword walked side by side into the city, laughing and talking. Upon seeing the crowd parting to left and right to gaze at them intently, the expressions on both their faces stiffened slightly.

What kind of grand display was this?

Yet someone in the crowd remarked: "That is Daoist Master Xuanchong of Mount Tai. I met him once before."

"Tenth on the Hidden Dragon Rank!"

"Of course he would come. Mount Tai is in the neighboring commandery; they see each other all the time."

"Then the one beside him, carrying that blade... could it be one of those imitators playing around lately?"

"Don't be foolish. That is a Hidden Dragon attending the banquet, traveling alongside Xuanchong! Who else could it be but the true Blood-Drenched Asura?"

The utterance of those four words actually caused the atmosphere to chill slightly, and quite a few people revealed expressions of dread and fear.

Zhao Changhe was somewhat speechless. Is my reputation truly that ferocious?

Xuanchong was equally speechless: "Fellow folks, we're all neighbors from the same region. Don't crowd around to watch us. What is there to look at?"

The martial artist who had met him once before smiled and said, "Daoist Master, we didn't gather here specifically to watch who is attending the banquet."

"Oh? Then what is it for?"

The man pointed at the Wang family mansion at the end of the street: "Do you see, Taoist? The door is shut. Such a thick solid wood door—it would be inelegant to have to ram it open or chop it down. It seems the Wangs want the banquet guests to show off their lightness skill; we're all here to observe the Hidden Dragon's lightness skill."

Xuan Chong's face turned unpleasant.

Was the Wang family going too far, truly treating the Hidden Dragon like a monkey to be watched?

He turned to look at Zhao Changhe; that fellow had already gripped his sword hilt, looking as if he intended to chop the door down.

The crowd was just showing expressions of anticipating a good show when from behind the two men a tattered drunkard stumbled and squeezed through, his foot slipping as he nearly collided with Xuan Chong.

Xuan Chong kindly steadied him: "Brother, you're this drunk—drink less."

The drunkard still held a gourd of wine in his hand; upon hearing this, he took another swig, then continued stumbling forward, muttering indistinctly: "Life has wine, one must get drunk—not a single drop ever reaches the Yellow Springs..."

Look at him—he could barely walk straight; if he kept drinking, he might as well go straight to the Yellow Springs...

"Hey, hey, hey!" A passerby kindly tried to pull him back: "Old pal, ahead is the Wang family gate—it's closed, closed, hey hey hey!"

That man darted forward, dodging the kind pull, but lost his balance even more, hooked his foot on the step, and flew straight forward, his head about to smash into the gate.

The people all showed expressions of not bearing to watch.

With a "bang," that man's head indeed made a solid, intimate contact with the gate.

Yet the expected bloody head did not come; instead, the door bolt behind the gate snapped directly, and the gate swung wide open.

The drunkard rubbed his head and continued staggering inside: "So it really is a person's home... I thought dogs lived here, blocking people from entering..."

Inside the gate, the Wang family guards exchanged glances, surprisingly not stopping him; instead, someone quickly ran inside to report and ask what to do now... Why bother guarding the gate? The first person, and the gate was already broken...

The whole street fell silent.

Someone quietly asked: "Who is that?"

"Who else could it be? Only the former fourth of the Hidden Dragon, now the second—Drunkard of the Yellow Springs, Situ Xiao."

Zhao Changhe released his sword hilt and beamed: "Just this one scene—worth the trip!"