Chapter 144: Following the Right Person

A difficult beast-fight had come to an end.

A young Yuan Yi and a young Yuan Dashang walked through a deserted alleyway.

Yuan Dashang was covered in wounds; every step it took tugged at them, making it wince in pain.

Yuan Yi felt his pocket, where he had only three and a half spirit stones.

He gritted his teeth and finally said, "Dashang, you stay here. I’ll go check that medicine shop over there; I should be able to buy at least one plaster for you!"

Yuan Yi left, and Yuan Dashang leaned its back against the cold wall, slowly sitting down.

It panted heavily; the act of sitting down also tugged at its wounds, making its heart race with pain.

The alley was deserted and dim, as if it were the only thing left in the world.

Suddenly, a gong sounded.

Yuan Dashang instinctively looked up; the sound came from behind the wall opposite.

Then, drums beat, and a voice announced: "We now invite Master Li Leifeng to perform a puppet show for the old master. The play is 'Qin Lie Marches to Battle'!"

A moment later, a mechanical stage rose slowly. The puppets were of various shapes and sizes, dazzling to the eye, and the performance began.

Yuan Dashang looked up, peering through the gaps in the trees at the puppets acting like real people—talking, fighting, and fleeing—a lively scene.

Li Leifeng’s puppetry skills were superb. Amidst the gongs, drums, and strings, Yuan Dashang gradually forgot its pain and became mesmerized.

The play progressed, reaching its most climactic segment.

The treacherous villains set a trap, falsely accusing the general Qin Lie of harboring ulterior motives. The young lord issued three imperial decrees, ignoring the fact that the veteran general Qin Lie was severely wounded, and insisted he charge into battle.

The veteran general Qin Lie had three battle flags stuck to his back. He stood up with great difficulty, raised his heavy spear, and marched toward the battlefield with steps as heavy as mountains.

He sang:

"Raised by the grace of the late lord since youth, his kindness is etched deep in my heart. He taught me loyalty to protect the land, and bestowed wisdom and courage to stand in this world."

"The late lord's grace, like a father and brother, raised me; he taught me loyalty and duty, and gave me wisdom and courage..."

The gongs were steady and powerful, as if declaring the gravity and tragedy of this battle.

He sang again:

"I supported the young lord in his youth, serving with all my heart like a father and brother. Though I face suspicion, I hold no resentment, only wishing for the nation to stand firm forever."

"The young lord is small; I supported your ascension, like protecting a sapling and hoping it becomes a forest. Though I face suspicion, I hold no resentment, only wishing you can restore the nation's fortune..."

The jinghu fiddle produced a high, clear sound—sometimes mournful, tugging at the heartstrings; sometimes soaring, expressing Qin Lie’s expectations.

General Qin Lie fought his way into the battlefield, looking like a majestic lion, killing until heads rolled and the enemy trembled.

He sang once more:

"Though my body is old, my ambition does not fade; I spill my blood on the battlefield to repay the nation's grace. The late lord's spirit smiles in heaven; I march to the battlefield with no regrets."

The drums began to beat—deep and impassioned, like galloping warhorses, magnificent in momentum. Yuan Dashang felt its blood boil!

Qin Lie fought long without retreating, but his wounds worsened and his strength was exhausted. He finally fell on the battlefield, unable to break through the thick enemy lines despite his efforts to charge.

Knowing his end was near, Qin Lie looked up and sang:

"The late lord's grace is etched forever; my heart is tied to the young lord's restoration. Spilling blood on the battlefield is not in vain; my soul returns to the homeland to comfort the late lord."

"Why fear the enemy? Ten thousand armies are nothing to fear!"

"My death is not for fame or wealth, but for a heart of pure loyalty."

"Recalling the late lord's heavy grace, how could I retreat in the face of national crisis?"

"Young lord, know this: a loyal subject has no regrets even if he gives his life. After I die, I hope you understand: a loyal heart protects the nation."

The rhythm of the gongs and drums shifted, capturing both the tension of battle and the tragic desolation of parting.

Finally.

Qin Lie and the enemy general perished together.

In his final moments, he faced the capital, knelt on one knee, and bowed: "My lord, this subject departs!"

A heavy drumbeat shook the entire stage.

Suddenly, the suona horn wailed—high, piercing, and tragic, as if piercing through time and space to strike Yuan Dashang’s heart.

The suona continued for a moment, joined by the flute. The flute was crisp and pleasant, sometimes winding and low, sometimes soaring and impassioned.

Finally, the sound rose high, like a blue bird flying into the sky, disappearing into the vast blue expanse.

Yuan Dashang looked up, speechless for a long time.

This was its first time watching a puppet show; it understood human speech, and its body and mind were deeply shaken.

"Dashang, Dashang!" Yuan Yi ran back, holding a few plasters.

He laughed: "Good luck, the medicine shop was clearing stock, so I got a bargain and got a few extra plasters!"

"Come, let me apply them."

Yuan Dashang let Yuan Yi treat its wounds. It looked at Yuan Yi, then at the puppets on the stage. The lantern light felt like fire, reflecting on its face, and the sounds of the crowd cheering and applauding behind the wall lingered in its ears.

"Let's go, why are you still sitting there?" Yuan Yi stood up and walked away.

Yuan Dashang reached out and pointed at the stage opposite.

Yuan Yi looked back and dismissed it: "Oh, it's just a puppet show."

Yuan Yi took another look: "It's the 'Qin Lie Marches to Battle' song, a very famous piece."

"What a pity, he didn't follow the right person."

Yuan Yi walked in front, and Yuan Dashang followed behind.

Just as they were about to leave the alley, it turned back for one last look at the mechanical stage.

The stage was slowly lowering, and the puppet playing the veteran general Qin Lie was still kneeling.

Yuan Dashang looked at Yuan Yi’s back and let out a few soft grunts.

Yuan Yi turned around, puzzled, not understanding what it wanted to say, and just waved: "Hurry up, let's go home, fill our bellies, and get some sleep!"

Relying on each other, beast-fighting, the Monkey Head Gang.

"Look, Dashang, this is my child, he is my child!" Yuan Yi was ecstatic. "I have a child, I have an heir in this world."

"I named him Yuan Er. Dashang, my life isn't as long as yours."

"If one day I'm gone, let Yuan Er take Yuan Yi's place and keep you company."

Yuan Er was hungry and began to cry.

Yuan Dashang squeezed juice from a peach the size of a basin, but ended up drenching Yuan Er like a drowned rat.

Yuan Er fell ill.

Yuan Dashang raced through the city at night like the wind, burst into the clinic, grabbed the apothecary by the throat, and sprinted and leaped all the way back, the apothecary’s screams shattering the silence of the night.

Yuan Er began to climb.

He grabbed Yuan Dashang’s thick fur to challenge the heights, and every time he fell, Yuan Dashang’s palm would catch him precisely.

Yuan Er could walk and jump.

"Monkey Uncle, they bullied me!" Yuan Er brought Yuan Dashang to settle the score, scaring the other children until they wet themselves and broke down in tears.

Yuan Er began to be combative and curious about a question: "Monkey Uncle, who is stronger, you or my dad? Have you ever fought? I ask Dad, but he never answers."

Yuan Er ran to Yuan Dashang, full of admiration and excitement: "Monkey Uncle, you are so amazing, so fierce! When can I be like you?"

"Dad, I heard you're looking for demonic cultivation techniques for Monkey Uncle? Don't do that!" Yuan Er burst into the study, shouting.

Yuan Yi’s face turned livid, and he roared: "Silence! Who has been whispering nonsense in your ear again?"

"Dad, Monkey Uncle’s strength is already beyond anyone’s control. Those monkeys of his—calling them pets is more accurate to say they are the masters, and those cultivators are just slaves responsible for feeding them."

"The situation is already like this; letting Monkey Uncle’s strength soar will only make it worse."

"By then, whose gang will the Monkey Head Gang be?" Yuan Er pleaded.

Separated by a few houses, Yuan Dashang, who had mastered demonic arts, heard every word.

Its brows drooped; it no longer lay down but sprawled on the ground, head bowed, emitting a whimpering sound.

Its monkey kin were killed, and Yuan Dashang pointed a finger at Yuan Er’s heart.

Yuan Er’s assassination attempt failed, and Yuan Dashang wounded its own soul to guard him.

During the Fire Persimmon Festival explosion, Yuan Dashang held Yuan Er in its arms.

On its deathbed, Yuan Dashang pointed a finger one last time. In a trance, it seemed to hear the melody of "Qin Lie Marches to Battle."

Yuan Er was dead.

After a brief chaos, the Monkey Head Gang was taken over by a senior elder who stabilized the situation.

Yuan Dashang was also dead!

This was Ning Zhuo’s greatest realization.

He had recovered the Tree Martial Fighting Ape Dashang and repaired the entire mechanism, but he couldn't find a trace of spirituality, as if it had never existed.

"Sun Lao’s secret mark hasn't changed."

Ning Zhuo clenched his fists. Every time he wanted to step in personally to investigate Sun Lingtong’s actual situation, the My Buddha Heart Demon Seal in his divine sea would vibrate, emitting brilliant Buddha light.

My Buddha Saves Himself!

The treasure seal was warning him!

It warned Ning Zhuo that stepping in now meant falling into someone else’s trap.

Qi Bai’s face was livid.

He looked at Sun Lingtong, unable to believe that someone could withstand his soul torture!

Sun Lingtong’s hands and feet were pierced with coffin nails, pinning him to the pillar.

His brows were furrowed, his eyes rolled back, and due to the torture of a certain spell, his body trembled from time to time.

After all this, Qi Bai had gained nothing.

To maintain the Inspector Judge, he had to sacrifice more and more soul power and magic power.

On any other day, he might have stopped torturing Sun Lingtong. After all, interrogating Sun Lingtong for information on the "Tress-Haired Guest" was only to facilitate recruiting Han Ming.

It was a completely losing proposition.

But in the "Sit on the Mountain and Watch the Tigers Fight" luck field, Qi Bai had developed a competitive spirit, and the desire to win was especially intense.

"Perhaps his breakdown is just a moment away!" Qi Bai expected, roaring with a ferocious face, "Good, I like a tough nut like you."

"Next, you will endure ten times the pain!"

"Hehehe."

"Death would be a blessing for you. Unfortunately, you have angered me."

Qi Bai activated a spell, striking Sun Lingtong directly.

Sun Lingtong felt as if a mountain were pressing down on him; the pain was so intense it made him hallucinate, as if his body and mind were being crushed by the mountain.

Boundless pain seeped into every inch of his skin, but he couldn't pass out.

He was like a small boat in a storm, falling into an endless abyss.

Past memories were like a beam of light, weak yet stubborn, shining in this boundless darkness.

They were all about Ning Zhuo.

"Others can control the black market, why can't we?"

"Interesting, let us brothers work together to rule the black market!"

"Xiao Zhuo, don't show your true face; use the Cang Iron Han Armor to disguise yourself. I’m already known to others, so it doesn't matter."

Ning Zhuo laughed and changed his address: "From now on, I'll just call you Sun Lao!"

"Lao, the goods aren't right."

"Sun Lao, I'm right behind you."

"Lao, charge!"

"Sun Lao, don't worry, I'll always follow you."

Agony like the sea and abyss submerged Sun Lingtong.

He opened his eyes, his once-lively pupils filled with blood.

Sun Lingtong smiled tragically, knowing the Empty-Empty Heart Seal had limited effect and he couldn't hold on much longer.

He unleashed his final resort!

Qi Bai noticed the anomaly and was shocked: "What? You are destroying your own soul!"

Sun Lingtong triggered the Empty-Empty Heart Seal, attacking his own soul to resist Qi Bai’s soul-searching.

Qi Bai’s eyes widened in disbelief: "Who exactly is that Tress-Haired Guest to you? You would rather have your soul scattered than let me have him?!"

"Are you even a member of the Empty Gate? Are you even a demonic cultivator?!"

"Could it be that he is your fellow disciple? Is he the Saint Son of your Empty Gate?!"

"Hehehe." Sun Lingtong bared his teeth, struggling to let out a final laugh. "He is not a fellow disciple; he is my brother."

"Brother?" Qi Bai was even more confused. "Aren't brothers meant to be sold out? You’d throw your life away for a bit of information? What exactly do you want?"

Sun Lingtong lowered his eyelids, too weak to speak loudly: "I... I just want to prove... that he didn't... follow the wrong person."

Qi Bai listened intently, only to hear these words.

"Unreasonable!" Qi Bai was furious to the extreme.

Never in his life had he been so offended!

He felt deeply violated.

He completely lost his patience.

At this moment, he forgot about recruiting Han Ming, forgot about the Tress-Haired Guest.

He pointed his fingers like a sword and stabbed fiercely at Sun Lingtong’s brow.

This strike would pierce Sun Lingtong’s forehead and truly kill him!

BOOM!!!

An explosion occurred suddenly.

Qi Bai sneered, ignoring it, determined to kill Sun Lingtong.

But the next moment, formation patterns appeared, protecting Sun Lingtong firmly and blocking the fatal blow.

The violent shockwave of the explosion surged over, accompanied by surging heat.

The explosion sent Qi Bai flying, then engulfed him.

Conversely, Sun Lingtong was protected by the formation and teleported out of the room.

A moment later, he landed beside an old man.

This old man was decrepit, his face weathered, his eye bags dark and purple, his wrinkles deep enough to trap mosquitoes.

His hair was black and messy, spreading from the top of his head to his shoulders and hanging down to his feet, like a large black cloak.

He leaned on a cane, his back hunched severely, his entire posture bent like a lobster.

He called himself the Tress-Haired Guest.

He was Sun Lingtong’s... brother!