Chapter 146: The East Sea Falls Silent

“I’ve crossed over again.”

“Wait, where am I now?”

Chu Tianshu squinted and realized that after this crossing, he had not appeared amid any landscape of mountains or rivers.

The situation was peculiar: all around him swirled thick, radiant mist and fog, colorful and constantly churning and drifting.

Yet Chu Tianshu felt no wind—he instead felt as if he were deep beneath the sea.

Those mists, like dense undercurrents, surged and rocked him, making it hard to keep his footing.

“Huh?!”

Chu Tianshu instinctively exerted his strength to resist, yet though he felt his body tensing, he still floated slightly within the mist.

He looked down at his hands and sensed the problem.

Now he seemed not to be in physical form, but more like a dream.

He had rested well and replenished his spirit just before attempting the crossing—how had he suddenly fallen asleep and slipped into a dream?

But if this were merely his own dream, he should have realized it at once.

Moreover, since age ten, his dreams had gradually become structured.

They usually began with wilderness, then added various scenes and beasts.

This was not like that—nowhere was there only swirling colored mist and smoke.

As Chu Tianshu’s thoughts multiplied, the colored mists surged from all directions in greater volume.

Bright red, dark red, pale blue, deep blue, luminous gold that seemed to lift the soul, thick green that looked nauseatingly oily…

He had never seen so many colors crammed into one place.

Nor had he imagined that mere shifts in shade within each hue could produce such starkly distinct sensations.

The seven emotions and six desires surged to his heart; fragmented associations poured in endlessly.

“Lin!”

Chu Tianshu suddenly made a judgment—he formed a sword seal with his fingers, uttered a true incantation, his expression calm, his gaze clear.

Focusing entirely, he traced four vertical and five horizontal lines forward.

Interwoven, repeatedly inscribed, his fingers moved slowly but with unwavering resolve.

The burden brought by these mists resembled the chaotic dreams he had as a child when afflicted by external yin evils.

But their activity far exceeded those childhood dreams, thus exerting far greater pressure.

Especially since the mists had no visible boundary—he could not tell if this was a small patch or a vast expanse.

Thus, it was easier for fear of infinite pressure to take root.

Yet Chu Tianshu’s will remained resolute, and he quickly steadied his mind.

The sudden surges of mist gradually slowed, drifting apart, no longer converging toward him.

Distractions attract these mists.

Chu Tianshu thought slowly, with low-frequency mental fluctuations.

After shedding the overwhelming mists, his sense of his physical body became clearer.

He could even perceive his heartbeat, the movement of his internal organs, and the flow of qi and blood.

Yet for visual and auditory senses—the channels through which his body perceived the outside world—the feedback remained vague.

He continued sensing, and beyond his body, he sensed his martial soul.

This meant his consciousness still lingered beside him—or perhaps overlapped entirely upon him.

But for some unknown reason, his conscious perspective and his body existed on different planes?

Most likely, this world possessed some universal peculiarity.

“By counting heartbeats and aligning the Vertical-Horizontal Incantation with the rhythm of qi and blood, I can still escape this strange state and fully return to my body.”

Chu Tianshu analyzed his current situation.

He sensed his mind and body were reuniting, though he could not yet say how long it would take.

“Should I just let my body lie idle in some strange place… Got it!”

At dusk.

The air was warm, trees lush, wild grass thick as a green carpet.

Along a packed, solid dirt road, Chu Tianshu suddenly opened his eyes and sat up silently from the grass.

“He” raised his palm, studying the lines, knuckles, and skin texture, then turned it over to examine the back—his eyes filled with wonder.

Hands, legs, then his waist.

Chu Tianshu looked at the Three-Seven Divine Sword strapped to his waist, and an unconscious smile spread across his face.

Like stepping out of his home for the first time and turning back to look at it.

So this was how his home looked from the outside.

The master’s instructions: avoid getting splashed with filth, avoid being picked up by strange people, evade danger… and…

Then just sit here for a few days.

His physical stamina was excellent—sitting on the grass for days posed no problem.

Pure consciousness shaped his body into a meditative cross-legged posture.

He gazed at the scenery ahead and was already deeply satisfied.

Each blade of grass, each tree, possessed its own unique beauty.

The clouds overhead and the distant sunset brought him genuine joy.

Thus, he did not hurry to look behind.

In truth, three or four li behind him lay a city.

The city walls were not very tall, but guarded by soldiers; the gate bustled with people, lively and noisy.

Soldiers atop the walls had slightly crooked topknots, unkempt beards, leaning sideways with their weight on their spears.

One, bored, shouted to a nearby companion, raising a hand to point beyond the city.

“Look, isn’t that someone over there?”

“It is. What of it?”

“Just now, that spot was all grass—suddenly a person appeared. I’d bet he’s a martial artist with great skill. Let’s wager on whether he enters the city.”

“There’s nothing major happening in the city lately to attract martial artists—who knows if he’ll enter?”

“Exactly because we don’t know is why we bet.”

As they chatted, they suddenly saw a large crowd emerging from the woods, sprinting frantically.

The soldiers on the wall were startled, unsure what was happening.

Those fleeing poured every ounce of strength into running, quickly approaching Chu Tianshu’s location.

Hundreds of gasping breaths, children wailing, women shrieking in high-pitched tones surged toward him.

Most had crude topknots tied with thin hemp rope and cloth strips; their skin was dark, hands scarred and cracked—clearly poor folk.

Yet their clothing had few patches; most still looked strong, not emaciated.

They were likely commoners living tolerably well.

Among them were some wearing long boots, accompanied by sturdy servants.

Whatever had happened, it had driven these disparate people to flee together.

Chu Tianshu watched them silently.

A dozen or so ran fastest, darting past him.

The dust kicked up by their feet made him frown—he considered moving farther away.

A denser crowd had now reached close range.

A man carrying a shoulder pole with baskets of children on either end, seeing Chu Tianshu sitting motionless by the road, shouted out.

“Pirates are coming! Run!”

Behind him, a thin-limbed boy reached out, trying to grab Chu Tianshu’s arm.

Chu Tianshu’s right hand touched his shoulder, index finger lifting slightly.

The boy, intending to seize his shoulder, suddenly froze—he felt as if his palm had brushed against something, yet also as if it had touched nothing, slipping past the man beside him.

At that moment, the city gate erupted into chaos.

As the fastest runners neared the gate, soldiers shouted at them.

Before anyone could reply, soldiers atop the wall also cried out.

“Pirates! No—Japanese pirates! Japanese pirates are chasing them! Close the gate!”

The soldiers on the wall stood high and saw far.

They had already spotted, behind the fleeing crowd, dust rising as a dozen figures pursued them.

Those dozen rode horses or donkeys, struggling through the woods, their bodies trailing broken branches and leaves.

Most were short in stature, bouncing atop their mounts—seen together, they looked comical.

Yet each of them held a gleaming long blade, flashing brightly in the sunlight.

Their swords were slender, like crescent moons.

Pirates were terrifying, but Japanese pirates were far worse.

Civilians near the gate, hearing the shouts from above, panicked and surged desperately toward the entrance.

The soldiers below were shoved and toppled, unable to close the gate.

The man carrying the baskets of children, seeing the chaos at the gate, stamped his foot in frustration, abandoned any thought of Chu Tianshu, and shouted to his companions as he fled.

Chu Tianshu stood up, preparing to walk into the woods to avoid the dust.

“Hahahaha, kill the chicken and give it to me!”

A dozen Japanese pirates rode in swiftly, all laughing with excitement.

They drove the common people toward the city gates to create chaos within the city; once the panic spread, they could plunder freely that night and then withdraw calmly.

As long as they didn’t encounter any gangs that had taken over a city, the inept Ming local officials had no way to stop them.

This was the secret passed down by our predecessors—tested a hundred times and never failed!

The lead pirate spotted Chu Tianshu and swung his sword at him on instinct.

Chu Tianshu had already turned to enter the woods, more than five feet away from the pirate vanguard.

The pirate tilted his body, most of his weight leaving the saddle.

Only by gripping the reins with his hands and bracing his feet on the stirrups could he reach Chu Tianshu with that slash.

His movement was extremely skilled, his posture remarkably agile—clearly, this technique was frequently used in actual combat.

But as the sword swept through, the man suddenly vanished.

The pirate vanguard froze, his body instinctively pulling back onto the saddle; he tried to glance elsewhere, but suddenly felt darkness descend over his head.

Crack!!

Chu Tianshu stood atop the horse, directly behind the pirate, his left hand pressing down on the pirate’s skull and twisting.

The pirate vanguard made no sound—he died instantly.

The master’s order: leave if threatened.

Yet, with the purity and sharpness of the soldier-soul, he had already sensed these men posed no real threat—he only avoided them to keep from getting dirty.

Chu Tianshu stood on the horse’s back, scanning the other pirates, who now regarded him as if facing a dire enemy.

Like a pack of cunning, vengeful, and cruel monkeys, even in their cowering postures, they radiated malice.

Why do such weak creatures attack me?

This malice is still growing, focusing entirely on me.

No—if I wait for them to strike first, it will surely get dirty!

(End of Chapter)