Chapter 89: Future Plans

Chen Zhao sipped two mouthfuls of spirit wine, and a bad feeling stirred in his heart.

Two great karmic debts both converged on Shanlian — even a fool wouldn't rush there rashly.

"Wait until the Shanlian storm settles before going. It won't be too late then."

His mind made up, he was about to speak again.

Suddenly he felt a gust of wind behind him; turning his head, he found a letter already in his hand.

He tore it open and read.

It confirmed the secret treasure was safe, along with a few lines of small text.

"This item is not a secret treasure from the vault. The hidden compartment contains an unorthodox Secret Technique, which has already fallen into the hands of the Wusheng Sect."

"Although the cultists at the hideout are dead, you two must still be extra careful."

Chen Zhao read silently to this point, and a sudden clarity welled up in his heart.

From the letter, it was clear.

The small seal was most likely a genuine Zhenwu antique.

Which orthodox sect, barring a traitor within, would hide unorthodox arts inside a secret treasure for no reason?

He formed a hand seal and probed with his senses.

He only felt that the ink mark had vanished, unsure whether Juekong was dead or alive.

Immediately after.

Without a word, he grabbed Liu Chen and ducked into Han City.

Yuhua Lou was already gone without a trace; only half a wing of Baixian Tower remained, and even that was an "open-air view" — thoroughly shabby.

Fortunately, the two only came to drink their sorrows away, so they cleared a single Eight Immortals table and made do sitting down.

"Brother Chen, why so cautious? Surely you're not afraid of that bald donkey?"

Liu Chen couldn't hold his liquor well, and his tongue was a bit thick.

He couldn't figure it out no matter how he turned it over.

Chen Zhao, honored as a True Disciple — let alone an outer-branch Elder like himself, even Li Zhiwei had to obediently call him Senior Brother Chen.

If he took Mo Shouzhuo as his master, he'd be the next Hall Master of Dan Tang!

Add to that the Sect Master's favor, and his immortal path could be called smooth and open all the way.

"Brother Liu, in your view, what kind of person is the Sect Master?"

Drunken words speak the heart's concerns. Chen Zhao laid out porcelain bowls and filled Liu Chen's to the brim.

The two clinked bowls, and Liu Chen let out a wine-burp before saying:

"Forming a Nascent Soul over a third-grade Spirit Pulse — a true man should aspire to that."

Chen Zhao gave a light laugh and kept his mouth shut.

He wasn't afraid of Juekong at all — he was afraid that the moment this man appeared, the karmic tribulation would already have begun.

Even a powerhouse like the Ancestor had been annihilated in the great tribulation.

Nascent Soul alone was still far from enough.

He lifted his bowl and slowly walked to the edge. There were almost no obstructions around; at a glance he could see the pedestrians on the street, or the waves of Han Hu.

But back then, there was no shortage of true men like us who carried great opportunities.

Several gatherings had been grandly held right here; now the old friends were gone, leaving only a perilous tower.

Zhao Dehai, Chen Qingmeng, the He Family Brothers... all dead, while Zheng Daocai's whereabouts were still unknown.

Of the 136 in their cohort, only he, Liu Chen, Xin Tong, and Jiang Yanqiu had broken through to Foundation Establishment; the rest had already passed the halfway mark of their lifespans.

And beneath his feet.

The long street was shoulder to shoulder, Immortal Seedlings streaming without end, as if they meant to trample the ruins into a thoroughfare.

But among these people, would there be future Nascent Soul mighty figures?

Chen Zhao narrowed his eyes slightly, and only one thought remained in his heart.

Longevity!

Unfettered longevity!

He had to outlive these surging river currents, and also course through them as wantonly as they did!

Before that, he had to be cautious and protect himself.

Liu Chen shook his head, gazing at the busy pedestrians below:

"Once timid and trembling, now even more like a mouse afraid of its own shadow — what's the point of us cultivating, beyond the growth of our cultivation?"

He was different from himself.

Many of his worries ultimately stemmed from the word "knowing" — yet knowing inevitably invited karma, and he could not speak of it to others.

Chen Zhao sighed, tipped his head back, and drained the wine in his bowl.

Wine does not intoxicate; man intoxicates himself.

As the two sat in silence, a few Immortal Seedlings happened by to rest their feet; as time went on, the little wing-room was packed to bursting.

"Fellow Daoist, I heard the Tian Kui disciples' trial is right here in the city?"

A young man in a straw raincoat whispered.

Where people gather, a world springs up — gossip and strange tales are inevitable.

"That's right — my father spent ten mid-grade Spirit Stones greasing the right palms. How could it be wrong?"

The handsome young gentleman beside him hid his face behind a jade fan; though his voice was soft, it brimmed with self-satisfaction.

"The chief examiner is a legendary figure within the sect — achieved Foundation Establishment young, peerless in skill, however..."

At these words, many sharp-eared listeners swallowed hard, their hearts itching unbearably.

"However what?"

"However, my mouth is parched — I need fine wine to wet my throat."

The dashing young lord let out a boisterous laugh, turned around, and looked back.

He was quite the hail-fellow-well-met sort; he walked right up and clapped Chen Zhao and his companion on the shoulder:

"Friend, would you sell me some of that Sword Bamboo Spring?"

The two had been lost in reminiscence; suddenly hailed like this, they couldn't help but exchange a glance, both wearing the strangest expressions.

You think you're the chief examiner?

I'm a True Disciple — why would I need to bother with these Immortal Seedlings?

Chen Zhao tugged at the corner of his mouth, then promptly produced a jar of Sword Bamboo Spring.

"I happen to have some to spare, so I'll gift you a jar."

"How generous!"

Unexpectedly, after accepting the wine, that fellow simply plopped himself down beside the two of them, gave a sheepish chuckle,

"Friend, how could Liu Cong accept such kindness for nothing?"

"They say that chief examiner is graceful and elegant, but couldn't care less for pills or Dharma Treasures — instead, she's fond of Spirit Stones."

"If we want to suit the remedy to the case, I, Liu, can lend the two of you a few Spirit Stones."

So he really does think of himself as an Immortal Seedling.

Chen Zhao smiled in amusement; Liu Chen, too, was uncommonly intrigued, and sent a voice transmission:

"This fellow is Liu Zhang's son. Once he lavishly tossed out thirty mid-grade Spirit Stones in a single night, just to have a famed beauty ride his Spirit Beast through the streets in full regalia."

"That Spirit Beast eventually went for fifty mid-grade Spirit Stones, and to this day Liu Zhang still hires women to interact with Spirit Beasts, using it to draw attention."

What a piece of work.

Still, from this fellow's description, why does the chief examiner sound so much like Xin Tong?

"If we had the wealth to bribe a Foundation Establishment examiner, why would we still need to join a sect?"

The onlookers all slapped their thighs, groaning that it had been a waste of expressions.

Chen Zhao couldn't help but laugh.

Given Xin Tong's temperament, the issue was never about the amount — pity this fellow was holding a card close, and didn't spell it out.

The crowd instantly dispersed, leaving only Liu Cong and the youth in the straw raincoat.

The latter wore an honest, guileless look, as if ignorant of the ways of the world, which actually made Chen Zhao take a few extra glances.

"Cong-ge, I can't pay back that many Spirit Stones — is there any other way?"

"In the past, with our dashing looks, we might have made something of it, but alas we were born at the wrong time — the beauty already has an owner."

Hearing him lament that the gentleman was born before his time, the straw-coated youth woodenly nodded, then abruptly shifted the topic.

"Right — if it's by this brother's looks, there really isn't much chance."

Having said that, he pointed at Chen Zhao.

Liu Cong cut in with a slap of his palm, hastily saying:

"Brother Lengzi is still young and doesn't recognize the two of you — please don't take offense."

He was playing nice with his mouth, but in his heart he was also somewhat surprised.

Every year Tiankui gets a few cultivators trying their luck — already advanced in years, hoping to leap to the heavens in a single bound, only to end up as a Handyman at best.

The man before him had an unkempt, bristly beard, the other wore a stony face; their cultivation was only at Qi Refining, yet their speech was far from ordinary — as if there were stories behind them.

"The two of you must have some confidence coming here — care to share what avenues you have?"

"Nothing else — it's purely on the strength of our ability."

Isn't that just stating the obvious?

Liu Cong's smile stiffened, and he quietly retreated a few steps.

If his own cultivation weren't so poor, why would he be resorting to tricks and back doors?

But he had a mission of his own — he needed to climb to the position of Elder, so the Liu Family could replace the Su Family and claim a share of the training opportunities in the relic secret realm.

Thinking of this, Liu Cong found an excuse and turned to head for the next table.

Just at this moment.

"Those who wish to join Tiankui, come forth and pay your respects to the examiner."