Chapter 67: Treasures of the State 1

When Xu Yuan bit down on the strange mass, Wang Shen could no longer hold back and was about to rush out.

But Master Shen stuck out his foot and tripped her.

She crashed to the ground, scattering everywhere with a clatter.

“What’s the rush?” Master Shen drew on his cigarette. “I think the kid has his own plan.”

Wang Shen, assembling herself while muttering complaints, said: “Men are always heartless—I and Xiao Mo can’t stand seeing Yuan take risks.”

He’s only a teenager, still a child—what if he’s just showing off, acting impulsively…?”

Master Shen snapped: “Don’t forget the kid’s destiny.”

Wang Shen fell silent, her head floating upward, eyes fixed anxiously on Xu Yuan, her hands beginning to “blind-assemble.”

Every time Xu Yuan swallowed a clump of water, she misplaced one piece.

But since Master Shen had said that, she forced herself to hold back.

…

The flesh deformations beneath Mr. Gao had spread upward, covering his entire abdomen.

The strange crimson threads on his skin had crawled up his neck and now spread across his cheeks.

The figures hanging from the red threads had dwindled to just two.

When Xu Yuan swallowed the first clump of “water,” Mr. Gao lost focus for a moment and nearly got swallowed whole by the flesh carpet beneath him!

Mr. Gao had seen much in Beidu, but never anything like this!

After draining the blood of two men and steadying his composure, Mr. Gao had already written the boy off as a reckless fool, certain he was as good as dead.

But the brat’s insolent smirk, his comment about “pigskin jelly,” made Mr. Gao sneer inwardly and urged the flesh idol to continue forming in the courtyard!

Today was a grand performance—since turning twenty-nine, Mr. Gao had spent decades preparing for this “grand show.”

He could not tolerate Xu Yuan’s contempt.

Again and again, the forming clumps of “water” were swallowed by Xu Yuan as if they were pigskin jelly.

By the third time, Mr. Gao had focused nearly all his attention on Xu Yuan’s courtyard, even delaying progress at the main battlefield—the county yamen.

When Xu Yuan swallowed the sixth pigskin jelly, Mr. Gao snapped awake: He couldn’t waste any more time on this boy!

The flesh idol’s power had already dropped by nearly forty percent!

The most important target was Ma Tianshou.

From the moment the boy swallowed the first clump of water, his fate was already sealed.

If he had only waited patiently, the boy might have mutated into a malevolence and become his own ally.

Yet he’d wasted so much time and power over a moment of pride.

“I can’t entirely blame myself—no one could have resisted such a bizarre sight.”

Mr. Gao shifted all his attention to the county yamen.

…

The floodwater inside the yamen had risen to waist height.

Despite a three-foot drop outside, the water strangely did not flow outward.

Instead, surrounding floodwater continued to converge into the yamen.

All the buildings within the yamen had collapsed.

The three-year-old child still stood atop the water, his intense hatred manifesting as hundreds of yin hands extending from his eyes, like two enormous antlers clawing at the void.

Only a small patch in the yamen’s back courtyard remained blackened by ink.

But it was now only the size of a single room, insignificantly small compared to the entire yamen.

Yan Lao rapidly calculated with one hand on his abacus beads, while with the other, he manipulated eight counting rods—each strike landing precisely where needed, forcing back the sudden gaping mouths rising from the water.

Beside Yan Lao, only Fu Jingyu and the crippled Song Lu remained.

Ma Tianshou was intently writing a calligraphy scroll.

He gripped a large brush as if a weight of ten thousand jin pressed upon his arm—sweat poured from his body, his arm trembling slightly as he slowly drew each stroke.

In the water, three gaping mouths occasionally submerged, then erupted from unknown spots.

Like three sharks lurking beneath the surface.

They had no bodies, not even heads—only rows of razor-sharp teeth.

They had devoured their own bodies!

One could barely guess their original forms: two had been human, one a dog.

They had no consciousness, yet were vicious and cruel.

They would suddenly lunge sideways, swallowing entire collapsed buildings in a few bites.

Though they had no bodies, the things they devoured vanished mysteriously, their destination unknown.

The floodwater beneath the three-year-old child flowed, pushing him forward.

As he advanced, Ma Tianshou’s ink boundary shrank further.

Crack!

Crack!

Cracks appeared simultaneously on Ma Tianshou’s inkstone and inkstick.

Yan Lao felt a powerful hunger surge into his mind, nearly robbing him of reason.

He gritted his teeth, rapidly clacking the abacus, then drove one counting rod into a point atop his head, severing his sense of hunger!

Without looking back, he flicked his hand—two counting rods shot backward, pinning Fu Jingyu and Song Lu to the ground.

Song Lu was hopping toward Ma Tianshou, mouth dripping slime, ready to bite his master.

Fu Jingyu had silently slipped behind Yan Lao, his eyes glowing sickly green—he lunged to bite, but the counting rod dragged him back a step.

Snap!

A mouth bit empty air behind Yan Lao.

“Old Master!” Yan Lao was barely holding on.

Though he’d severed his hunger, this strange technique was more than mere physical hunger—he still felt himself slipping out of control.

Suddenly, behind him, Ma Tianshou let out a cold snort.

The final stroke was complete.

The scroll shot upward, hovering high above everyone’s heads.

On the scroll, a bold, powerful character:

Thunder!

No other characters followed.

Boom!

Lightning struck from the heavens!

Brilliant blue electricity spread through the rain like radiant spirit serpents.

The largest bolt struck directly atop the three-year-old child’s head.

Three more curved and coiled, each striking one of the three mouths in the water.

Thunder Art was the true supreme orthodox method!

Fierce and unmatched, purging all evil!

Though countless “methods” falsely claimed the name of Thunder, true Thunder Art was exceedingly difficult to master.

Ma Tianshou’s “Thunder” scroll carried roughly seventy percent of the power of true Thunder Art.

The three mouths shattered instantly in the brilliant lightning.

The three-year-old child absorbed most of the Thunder’s force—his body disintegrated, the water composing him vaporized completely, and the entire yamen suddenly cleared!

The green glow vanished from Song Lu and Fu Jingyu’s eyes; their reason returned.

Yan Lao laughed triumphantly: “Hahahaha! Old Master has turned the tide!”

Ma Tianshou was soaked through—rain and sweat alike.

His right arm, which had just written the scroll, trembled uncontrollably.

Yet his face showed no relief—he reached behind him and drew his official seal.

All his calligraphy scrolls and powerful Craft-Xiu artifacts had been expended in the prior battle.

Drawing the seal was his final resort.

The seal was a “treasure of state,” granted by the imperial court.

The county magistrate’s official seal and the plaque reading “Upright and Bright” hanging in the yamen’s main hall were both treasures of state.

Both had already been devoured.

The Old Master’s seal was far superior to those two—but to draw it now made him seem desperate, cornered.

Yan Lao gasped: “Old Master…”

“Chen Liangxuan knows I am a Sixth-Rank Literary Xiu,” Ma Tianshou said grimly. “If he moved against me, he must have been certain he could kill me.”

Yan Lao fell silent.

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(End of Chapter)