Chapter 959

Huh.

Hss.

Between nose and mouth, the White Dragon spiraled.

Three steps away, the nine-beast-headed candle flames did not flicker; the rippling light on his knees matched his breath's rhythm. The night moon was waning; Liang Qu replaced sleep with meditation, nurturing his essence and sharpening his strength.

Gurgling, gurgling—the water boiled and steamed.

Long Long Eying set down her brush, lifted the teapot, and poured a cup of Xuan Kong Temple's specialty, Xiao Wu Dao tea.

This task should have fallen to Teta Kai, but since being knocked unconscious and dragged back by Scarface, he had been vanishing at dawn, appearing and disappearing without trace, no one knowing where he went.

A courtyard less than a hundred zhang from this place.

The candlelight dimmed; Cha Qing recited the purpose of the western journey word by word.

"Above the Huaijiang, the Snowland Lotus Sect defies submission, secretly plotting against the Northern Court, intending to stir rebellion. You three, backed by the Lanhu Hantai Prefecture, infiltrate the region, uncover local power structures, and investigate thoroughly."

Remember: the Bai clan of Hantai Prefecture are mixed-blood descendants—do not fully trust them. After reading this letter, you must no longer drink to drunkenness, nor seek prostitutes to babble. Violators, whether guilty of leaking secrets or not, shall be executed—"

Cha Qing stared at Kou Zhuang; Kou Zhuang stared at Fan Fan Zixuan; Fan Fan Zixuan frowned tightly.

What is "the rebellion of petty thieves in the pond"?

Cha Qing slapped his own forehead.

Kou Zhuang explained: "The Lotus Sect intends to launch a military coup."

Cha Qing's family were tea merchants; Kou Zhuang had a wolf-smoke master. Neither needed to worry about basic education.

A flicker of understanding passed through Fan Fan Zixuan's eyes.

"So it's a coup."

The three, six eyes, exchanged glances.

Clang!

The candlestand toppled.

Cha Qing scrambled to catch it, stamped out the spreading flame of spilled oil, then looked at the other two.

This, this—

They had anticipated the mission's secrecy would be unusual—perhaps arresting some high official, even a local military or civil leader—but never imagined the stakes were this immense!

Treason!

No wonder Pingyang never mentioned it—only revealing it once they reached Datong Prefecture, far from family and friends!

Heavy breathing filled the room; hearts pounded faster, palms sweated, blurring the letter's ink—but soon,

A spark of insight flashed in his mind.

The moment for opportunity is fleeting!

From Pingyang to here, the journey had taken more than half a month; all three had prepared mentally. Cha Qing drew a deep breath, then looked at the letter soaked in candle oil on the ground, snatched it up, and pressed it against the wick.

Boom!

Flames licked the paper; the pale letter turned black, shattered to the ground, then faded to gray-white.

He crushed the black ash underfoot, scanning left and right.

"Get some sleep."

A restless night.

The next day.

Liang Qu was absent from the scripture lecture assembly, drawing curiosity; many monks had hoped to seek his insight but found no chance.

Liang Qu's answer, compared to past patriarchs, was not more ingenious—but offered an utterly unique perspective.

He did not push the hundred-step path one step further; instead, he stepped off the Great Dao entirely and forged a three-step muddy trail. Many patriarchs had done similar things—like Danxia burning the Buddha—but compared to the Great Dao, such acts were far more inspiring, offering entirely new directions. If one could now ask him for guidance, the sudden awakenings of the thirteen from Xuan Kong and Fu Long temples would not be the end!

Too bad.

In both morning and afternoon sessions, the monks found no trace of Liang Qu. Only a few vaguely recalled: the Marquis of Baron Xingyi had reportedly made an appointment with the Dragon-Elephant Martial Saint on the eighteenth day?

Fingers tapped silently in calculation.

Heart lurched.

"Today is the eighteenth day!"

Dusk fell.

Bai Hu led the golden-furred tiger, squatting one before the other atop the cliff.

Xing Yuan and the old monk stood before Xin Yuan Lake; ripples shimmered, images slowly emerging.

The setting sun slanted beyond the trees, casting orange-gold light that turned the small lake into a boiling cauldron of gold.

"Is this the place?"

"Yes, yes!" The little Shen Dragon nodded vigorously, peeling an orange. "Boss said to ask the Dragon-Elephant Martial Saint to stand right here and wait for him."

Zhang Zhang Longxiang looked around.

This place lay behind Fu Long Temple, where a mountain stream cascaded into a clear lake.

"Want some?" The little Shen Dragon tossed the peel into the water, broke open half the orange flesh.

"Oranges in May?"

"Offerings from temple visitors. I stole one. Don't know where it came from—said to be some late-ripening variety, watery, but not sour."

A moment of silence.

"Are you a descendant of the old House Dragon?"

"Probably. I don't even know how I was born—but I was born handsome! Jealousy follows me!" The little Shen Dragon shoved an orange segment into his mouth, flicked his tail, then sighed. "Now, the entire glory of the Shen clan rests on me alone. Sometimes I think—pressure's heavy."

Zhang Zhang Longxiang said nothing, standing still, waiting.

Soon after.

Miji miji.

A dense clinking of iron rings echoed from the woods, carrying a sharp thread of killing intent.

Is he here?

Zhang Zhang Longxiang released his perception—then frowned.

Approaching from afar.

A four-foot river otter, shouldering a six-foot nine-ring tin staff, walked toward them, tinkling through the trees.

Seeing the little Shen Dragon by the lake, Teta Kai showed slight surprise, nodded, passed the lake, brimming with killing intent, and continued up the mountain.

Mili miji.

Zhang Zhang Longxiang: "... —."

The little Shen Dragon muttered: "A thirty-refined black iron Chan staff? No—where did he get the money?"

He seriously suspected Long Eying had secretly given Teta Kai a raise in pocket money—and didn't tell him!

Damn it!

A full quarter-hour passed.

Zhang Zhang Longxiang suddenly looked up, smiling brightly.

"That's right!"

"Hm?"

The little Shen Dragon gazed skyward, pupils contracting sharply.

Whooosh!

Wind surged; Liang Qu, shouldering a long spear, stood atop a dragon's head. His figure rose and fell as the scenery behind him blurred into streaks.

Beneath the sky, amid flaming clouds, a vast azure dragon leapt from Xuan Kong Temple, circled once, then plunged straight down!

On the floating steps, countless descending monks stared open-mouthed. As the azure dragon appeared, they all rushed en masse to one side of the stairs.

"This is—"

"The Marquis of Baron Xingyi!"

"He went to the back mountain!"

"What power! What majesty! Not seen all day—what's he doing now?"

Noise and clamor rose, but no one needed to ask—they all knew soon enough.

Boom boom boom!

Birds scattered in panic; around the mountain stream and lake, countless trees and rocks were shredded into ash by the gale, revealing a perfect "circle."

"It's the Dragon-Elephant Martial Saint!"

The floating steps had no railings; those with insufficient cultivation dared not rush forward, fearing being shoved off by those behind. Hearing the cry, they scratched their heads in agitation.

What's going on?

Such killing intent! Such majesty! Are they about to duel?

On the long dragon, robes flapped fiercely.

Liang Qu dove faster; his aura soared higher. The spear tip of Fu Bo glowed with dark-gold brilliance; within the sea of clouds, blazing golden fire raged!

Suddenly.

Zhang Zhang Longxiang's voice echoed in his ear; in his vision, Zhang Zhang Longxiang had unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his muscular bare torso.

"My martial bones are called Ding Zhen Shanhe. Once, I rubbed my flesh and bones against sand from the Sha River, forged my meridians with hidden currents, and nurtured them with earth veins. When I reached the Elephant stage, the old supervisor of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau weighed my bones—he calculated one finger bone weighed eighty-one jin. Now, it's likely multiplied several times over."

"My destiny is marked by the 'Xiao Shen Du Shi' pattern—each bloody battle lets me devour three parts of blood qi, strengthening my bones by three parts."

"My external cultivation has two forms: first, the Dragon-Elephant True Martial Scripture; second—"

"My Gangfeng —transforms blood into Chanjia —."

One by one, they were counted out, one by one, they were named.

Until Liang Qu grew puzzled.

Whoosh.

The fierce winds within the forest vanished without a trace.

Zhang Zhang Longxiang struck his chest, the sound muffled like thunder, echoing through the deep mountains.

"Today, I discard them all, fall silent and still. Come, cut me a bloody gash!"