Chapter 80

Nine Yin Manual!

Mysterious flood dragon!

These keywords instantly became the focus of discussion throughout the entire Wu Lin.

The Great Song Wu Lin, being located on the coast of the East Sea and closest to Peach Blossom Island, was the most shaken.

Countless martial artists were discussing this matter, guessing the origin and purpose of that flood dragon.

Next was the Great Ming Wu Lin; after all, the secret agents of the Dragon-Protecting Villa had also perished there, and this news naturally caused a huge uproar.

For a time, the entire Central Plains Wu Lin became turbulent and filled with undercurrents due to this shocking news from the East Sea.

At the same time, the major top-tier forces had various reactions upon learning this news, and the situation was turbulent.

Western Xia, deep within the imperial palace.

Inside a palace decorated luxuriously yet exuding a cold aura.

A woman dressed in magnificent palace attire, with a beautiful face but an indescribable, eerie temperament, was leaning on a soft couch, listening to her subordinate's report.

She looked to be only in her twenties, with skin whiter than snow and eyebrows like a painting; every smile and frown radiated a deadly allure.

But in her deep eyes, there flickered a world-weariness and ruthlessness inconsistent with her age.

This person is none other than the Western Xia Empress Dowager, a former disciple of the Carefree Sect, and the junior sister of Tianshan Tianshan Tonglao—Li Li Qiushui!

She is also the true mastermind behind Western Xia's Hall of One Grade!

Her cultivation base has long reached the realm of Grandmaster, unfathomable!

"Oh? Duan Duan Yanqing, that piece of trash, also died on Peach Blossom Island?"

After hearing the subordinate's report, Li Li Qiushui asked in a flat tone, as if speaking of a trivial matter.

In her eyes, the Four Evils were merely dogs she could drive at will; if they died, they died, nothing to regret.

"Reporting to the Empress Dowager, according to the news sent back, Duan Duan Yanqing has indeed perished."

A subordinate in black replied respectfully, their body trembling slightly with fear.

"Not only that, the experts our Hall of One Grade sent to Peach Blossom Island were almost... completely wiped out."

"A flood dragon?" Li Li Qiushui's delicate eyebrows arched slightly, and a glimmer of interest flashed in her eyes.

"A black flood dragon that can speak human language, cultivate Wu Gong, and even suppress a Grandmaster?"

"This is interesting."

She extended her slender fingers and tapped lightly on the jade table beside her, pondering for a moment.

"The Nine Yin Manual, although known as the general outline of Wu Gong, is of little use to this palace."

"My North Dark Divine Art and Small Formless Art are already the top-tier martial arts in the world."

"However... if what that flood dragon said is true..."

"The flood dragon pill within its body, as well as that pure flood dragon essence blood, might be far more valuable to this palace than that so-called Nine Yin Manual..."

"If I can obtain that flood dragon pill, perhaps... it could help me break through the bottleneck that has troubled me for years and truly step into the realm of Land Immortal!"

She muttered to herself, her eyes flashing with a strange light.

Immediately, as if recalling something terrifying, a trace of deep fear and apprehension flashed in the depths of her eyes.

"No... time waits for no one..."

"If I don't ascend to the realm of Land Immortal soon, and that old, immortal bitch gets there before me..."

"By then, I fear... my life will be in danger!"

The old, immortal bitch she spoke of was naturally that Tianshan Tianshan Tonglao, who had cultivated the Eight Desolations and Six Harmonies Only I Am Sovereign Art and regained her youth!

"Perhaps... I should go to Peach Blossom Island myself and see with my own eyes what kind of sacred being that flood dragon is."

"If I can subdue it, or... take its flood dragon pill, my cultivation will surely advance by leaps and bounds!"

A trace of ruthlessness and determination flashed in Li Li Qiushui's eyes.

To pursue a higher realm, she would stop at nothing!

At the same time, Great Song, a branch of the Songshan Shaolin Temple on Mount Song, inside a remote meditation courtyard.

In the Scripture Library, a middle-aged monk dressed in a gray monk's robe, with a refined face but bright, piercing eyes, was sitting cross-legged, holding a Buddhist scripture, but unable to read it.

His face was filled with gloom and anxiety.

This person is none other than the head of the Gusu Southern Murong clan, who had faked his death and hidden for many years under the alias "Nameless Old Monk"—Southern Murong Bo!

He listened to the little novices in the temple, as well as some martial artists who came to offer incense, discussing the legends of the Peach Blossom Island flood dragon.

His heart was already churning, unable to calm down.

"Fu'er... Fu'er, he actually got trapped on that Peach Blossom Island?!"

"This idiot! He fails at everything he attempts!"

"What is there to snatch about a mere Nine Yin Manual?! Has he forgotten the ancestral teachings of my Southern Murong clan to restore the Great Yan?!"

Southern Murong Bo was both angry and anxious, unable to help but curse in a low voice.

He was truly disappointed in this son of his.

He knew deeply that with Southern Murong Fu's meager Wu Gong and shallow schemes.

Getting involved in a struggle involving top Grandmasters, and even a legendary flood dragon, was simply courting death!

Although he was quite dissatisfied with this son, he was, after all, his own flesh and blood.

He could not watch Southern Murong Fu die out there.

"No! I must go to Peach Blossom Island myself!"

Southern Murong Bo stood up abruptly, a trace of determination flashing in his eyes.

"I want to see what kind of monster that so-called flood dragon is!"

"If Fu'er is still alive, I will definitely bring him back!"

"If... if he has already met with misfortune, then I, Southern Murong Bo, will definitely make that Peach Blossom Island pay in blood!"

Although he had been in hiding for many years, the heroic ambition in his heart had not diminished in the slightest.

After making up his mind, Southern Murong Bo did not hesitate.

He quietly left the Scripture Library and, like a ghost, disappeared into the depths of the Songshan Shaolin Temple.

Not long after Southern Murong Bo left.

In a corner of the Scripture Library, an ordinary old monk dressed in a simple monk's robe, holding a worn-out broom, was silently sweeping the floor.

Those eyes, which appeared cloudy but actually contained endless wisdom and compassion, lifted slightly and glanced in the direction Southern Murong Bo had left.

He shook his head gently and recited a Buddhist name in a low voice:

"Amitabha, when will the cycle of vengeance end."

"Two benefactors, leaving one after another, their worldly ties are not yet severed; I fear that this Wu Lin will again be filled with more grudges and slaughter."

The broom in his hand swept gently.

The withered yellow leaves scattered around seemed to be guided by some invisible force.

They gathered under his broom on their own, without raising a speck of dust.

All of this happened silently, and no one noticed.

The distant Great Ming Dynasty.

Inside the heavily guarded Dragon-Protecting Villa.

In a magnificent hall filled with majesty and a murderous aura.

Zhu Zhu Wushi, the Iron-Gall God of War, dressed in a black brocade robe with a cold and imposing face, sat in the upper seat.

The domineering aura he exuded, along with his unfathomable cultivation, made people afraid to look directly at him.

He quietly listened to the detailed report from his secret agents about the battle on Peach Blossom Island.

When he heard that the four secret agents he had sent, along with many experts from the Dragon-Protecting Villa, had been completely wiped out and lost on Peach Blossom Island.

His face, as calm as an ancient well, still showed no change in expression.

As if those who died were merely insignificant ants.

He only tapped his long fingers lightly on the armrest of his chair, making a "du-du-du" sound.

"A flood dragon?"

"A black flood dragon that can speak human language, cultivate Wu Gong, and even suppress a Grandmaster?"

The corner of Zhu Zhu Wushi's mouth curled into an elusive arc, and a glimmer of interest flashed in his eyes.