Chapter 611: As Long as One is Alive, There is Hope

Chapter 611: As Long as You’re Not Dead, There’s Hope

Wan Dongliu was clearly just venting in impotent rage—where would he ever get the standing to march north?

Where there are people, there is the jianghu; within any faction or group, there are always tangled relationships. Especially for a force like this, united by the personal prestige of its leader—once that strong leader falls, it could shatter in an instant, with every head carving out their own territory and vying for the top spot, even coveting the leader’s position.

Wan Dongliu might be a notable Hidden Dragon among the younger generation, but he had yet to make the Human List, and his prestige was sorely lacking. In such a short time, aside from a madman like Zhao Changhe, how could anyone ranked beyond the top few dozen on the Hidden Dragon List ascend to the Human List now? Not falling off the list would already be a blessing…

Wan Dongliu wasn’t much younger than Tang Buqi; in two more months, he too would drop off the list. But his current ranking was worth noting.

Among his peers, most of the frontrunners had already made the Human List, while those behind had either risen in rank, aged off the list, or fallen in the jianghu—the Hidden Dragon List had always been the most volatile. And now, the first on the Hidden Dragon List was Xuan Chong, the second was Wan Dongliu himself, and the third was someone no one expected: a girl named Cui Yuanyang, who had reached the top three at the youngest age in history.

War had always been the greatest crucible.

For a normal young martial artist, Wan Dongliu’s achievements were quite impressive, but clearly not enough to command the millions of the Canal Transport Guild, let alone to suppress the arrogant generals and rebellious aristocratic officials within the territory during this time of war and division.

If it were really that simple—where the son could rally everyone at his father’s death—Wang Daoning wouldn’t have bothered to just assassinate Wan Tianxiong; he would have found and killed him long ago.

Now, Wan Dongliu was utterly tormented. He didn’t even know if the next assassination attempt might come from his own uncles and elders. If he hadn’t managed to secure a large contingent of the Four Symbols Sect’s core members to hold the line, the Canal Transport Guild would have already descended into chaos. March north? What a joke.

When he heard from scouts that Zhao Changhe had crossed the river heading north, he abandoned his father’s bedside and rushed to the ferry outside the city to intercept him, hoping his friend could offer some advice. He hadn’t expected the Venerable and the Holy Maiden to be there too… Their presence was a huge relief—after all, the Canal Transport Guild was subordinate to the Four Symbols Sect, and the Venerable’s arrival was a stabilizing force.

Wan Tianxiong had been ambushed in Yangzhou, where he was arranging river defenses against Tang Buqi. The attack from the north had caught him off guard.

Fortunately, it wasn’t far. Zhao Changhe entered the Wan estate and immediately saw Wan Tianxiong lying on the bed like a corpse—he didn’t even seem to be breathing.

The Turtle Breath Technique, inherited from the Black Tortoise—even the tortoise itself had never used it… In a martial world where the Chaos Chronicle blabbed everything, this technique was somewhat useless, but this time it had bought Wan Tianxiong enough time for help to arrive.

Zhao Changhe felt his pulse briefly, his expression dark.

Indeed, his chest had been crushed flat, ribs all broken, heart and lungs severely damaged—under normal circumstances, this would have been a fatal blow. The Wang family’s Heaven-Pushing Sea-Suppressing Palm was that brutal; with Wang Daoning having ascended to the Imperial Realm, its power could truly suppress the seas.

Wan Tianxiong’s deep cultivation and the Turtle Breath Technique barely kept a thread of life, but what good was that? Without a heartbeat, he was theoretically already dead—just not brain-dead. No medicine could cure this; even the Spring Return Art wasn’t at the level of raising the dead.

Zhao Changhe pondered for a moment, then fed Wan Tianxiong a bit of Blood Turtle’s blood. This substance was incredibly vital, and with the Spring Return Art, he could try to repair the organs as best he could. Of course, fixing them wouldn’t guarantee survival, but he had to start somewhere.

“San Niang.”

“Mm.”

“There’s a powerful water-element force wreaking havoc in Uncle Wan’s chest. Help me draw it out.”

“Alright.”

To Wan Dongliu’s utter astonishment, the Black Tortoise Venerable obeyed like a meek little wife, doing whatever Zhao Changhe said. She reached out and pressed a finger to his father’s chest.

Before long, a hazy orb of water gathered in the Venerable’s hand, then dissipated without a trace.

From that move alone, she was clearly a top-tier, freakishly powerful expert—manipulating water-element force as easily as plucking a flower. Only the true Black Tortoise Venerable, or perhaps the former Dragon King Hai Pinglan, could have done that. The Wang family mainly suppressed such force, not wielded it—there was a subtle difference.

The real Black Tortoise Venerable… why was she acting so obedient?

Wan Dongliu looked dazedly at the Holy Maiden beside him. Xia Chichi sat nearby, watching with some concern—she was worried about the life or death of a sect general, seemingly oblivious to the man-woman dynamic before her.

Wan Dongliu rubbed his eyes, wondering if the shock of his father’s near-death state had caused hallucinations.

But soon, he had no mind for such thoughts.

Sweat beaded on Zhao Changhe’s forehead, his complexion growing paler—a sign that he was pushing his soul power to the limit.

If this continued, he might even damage his own soul.

Wan Dongliu pressed his lips together, a strange feeling rising in his heart… For the sake of the public good, with the Venerable and Holy Maiden here, the Jianghuai region was already destined to stay calm. Zhao Changhe didn’t need to risk his own safety like this; no one would blame him if he couldn’t save his father.

From a darker perspective, his father, unlike himself, hadn’t believed in the Four Symbols Sect since childhood. To the sect, he might not even count as one of their own—perhaps even a destabilizing factor that would need to be replaced eventually. Now that Wang Daoning had done the job for them, wasn’t that perfect? Letting him die naturally would have been the most beneficial outcome for the Four Symbols Sect.

Yet he was still fighting. For what?

He glanced at San Niang and Xia Chichi; both seemed to have something to say but held back.

“Brother Wan.” After who knows how long, Zhao Changhe suddenly spoke, his voice unconsciously hoarse.

Wan Dongliu jolted upright: “Here.”

“If… your father were to lie like this forever… could you… accept it?”

Wan Dongliu stared at him blankly, his lips moving but unable to form an answer.

Zhao Changhe said wearily, “I did my best, but my cultivation is still lacking… Give me some more time? Maybe I can try again.”

Wan Dongliu took a deep breath and reached out to feel his father’s breath.

The Turtle Breath had been lifted; breathing was returning, faint but real…

Wan Dongliu’s mind went momentarily blank as Zhao Changhe continued, “I’ll prescribe some medicine… From now on, have someone dedicated to feeding him food and medicine. As long as he’s not dead, there’s hope.”

As long as he’s not dead, there’s hope.

Wan Dongliu, a stalwart man, felt an inexplicable sting in his nose and said in a low voice, “Brother Zhao’s kindness, I will remember.”

Zhao Changhe shook his head, simply saying, “We are friends.”

Wan Dongliu pressed his lips together and said nothing.

Zhao Changhe, his hands trembling slightly, took a pill from his ring and swallowed it—clearly, he had expended too much. After a long while of recuperation, he said quietly, “As for Jianghuai, San Niang, can you stay here to hold things down?”

San Niang asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t understand the situation here; staying would be of little use. You’re the one suited for this…”

“I don’t know how either.”

“Just put on the mask and stand there. Your presence alone is enough. Leave the rest to Dongliu. Once things are sorted, whether to strike Langya directly or head to Puyang, act according to circumstances.”

San Niang pouted: “And you?”

“Wang Daoning suddenly ascended to the Imperial Realm and then came south to eliminate threats from the rear. The most likely scenario is that he’s heading to the capital now… We never considered this possibility before. I don’t know what other backing he has besides his Imperial Realm that makes him bold enough to go to the capital… But since he dares, he must have some confidence.” Zhao Changhe rubbed his head tiredly. “Uncle Wan was attacked the night before last. At Wang Daoning’s pace, he might already be near the capital by now. I have to leave immediately, or I fear I’ll regret it.”