Chapter 50: Chapter Fifty: Dou Sister—Dou Taizhen

Late night.

The chaos gradually subsided, the burning flames continuously extinguished.

A great disturbance had completely vanished.

Dou Changsheng sat upon a long bench, the Hero Sword resting across his knees.

Tell a joke.

He personally guarded the luxurious carriage, protecting Prince Beiyang and the Princess of Beiyang.

The strongest enemy, Jin Sanming, was slain by Dou Changsheng with a single sword strike—neither the horses were startled nor a single drop of tea spilled—yet Princess Chen Taizhen had tragically perished at the hands of the Blood Hand Jin Sanming.

This was no rumor, but witnessed by countless eyes under open skies.

The once-famous demoness, younger sister of Chancellor Chen Qingyao, was now gone, her fragrance extinguished.

Dou Changsheng’s eyes locked onto the man before him, observing every expression of this Grand Manager—down to the flicker of his eyeballs, every subtle shift in his demeanor meticulously noted.

This Grand Manager was also a witness to Chen Taizhen’s demise.

Fuck.

This man’s acting is too exquisite.

Every detail he described was flawless.

Because Dou Changsheng had already heard several versions, mostly identical; the only differences lay in the varying distances and angles from which witnesses stood, leading to minor discrepancies.

Ma Liren, his expression tense and bitter, spoke: “The Princess was brutally slain by Jin Sanming.”

“When this reaches the imperial capital and reaches the Emperor and the Chancellor, what shall we do?”

Dou Changsheng’s face darkened as he listened to Ma Liren’s endless rambling—he longed to slap the man across the face. There were no outsiders here; what the hell are you pretending for?

Soft footsteps approached; a middle-aged man with a refined appearance, holding a book and a brush, walked slowly forward. Upon seeing Dou Changsheng, he praised first: “The martial world speaks of Dou Changsheng.”

“His strength is unfathomable.”

“He always brings surprises.”

“This time, you merely accompanied the caravan back to Beiyang on official business.”

“Yet on the road, you encountered Jin Sanming, the seventy-ninth name on the Ren List, in an ambush.”

“A renowned Ren List martial artist proved no match for your single sword strike.”

“According to our Wulin Tower records, although your combat prowess is unmatched, your realm is merely Xiantian.”

“An eighteen-year-old Xiantian is exceedingly rare, yet we failed to gather complete data—you are not merely a Xiantian cultivator, but a Xiantian True Realm cultivator with Five Qi Aligning.”

“Your profound Xiantian true qi, at your age, is unparalleled under heaven.”

“Tomorrow is the day Wulin Tower reorders the Ren List. I received this news tonight and personally sent a homing pigeon message to the capital headquarters.”

“Tomorrow’s Ren List will place you at seventy-ninth, replacing the Blood Hand Jin Sanming.”

The visitor expressed regret: “With your abilities, you certainly deserve more than seventy-ninth.”

“But newcomers are typically ranked lower, as those ahead of you hold verifiable combat records. Suddenly lowering their ranks would invite trouble for you.”

“Since ancient times, scholars have no first, warriors have no second—it easily breeds grudges, escalating into bloody feuds, which violates Wulin Tower’s principle in establishing the Heaven, Earth, and Ren Lists.”

Ma Liren slightly raised his head, glancing at Dou Changsheng.

The Ren List.

He couldn’t help but feel a hollow loss.

He recalled how, in days past, he too had once entered the Ren List.

But he had only lingered near the bottom, reaching eighty-second at nearly thirty.

He was even lower than this man’s debut ranking—yet even then, he was hailed as a genius, the peak of his glory.

For the martial world, someone like him was already quite good.

Countless others couldn’t even make the Ren List, let alone condense their spiritual intent and break through to the Divine Realm to become a Patriarch.

But compared to Dou Changsheng before him, what was he but an ordinary fool?

An eighteen-year-old Xiantian True Realm cultivator already possesses strength sufficient for at least the top fifty of the Ren List; by twenty, he will surely enter the top ten.

Fire Cloud True Person’s words held not a drop of falsehood.

The next decade belongs to Dou Changsheng.

To be born in the same era as Dou Changsheng—how despairing it must be for these geniuses.

He is the next Demon Master.

Ma Liren sighed inwardly.

One man suppresses all the world’s strong ones, leaving them gasping for breath.

The mighty Lord of the Grasslands, with hundreds of thousands of iron cavalry, sweeping the steppes and establishing unparalleled achievements, hailed as a lord born once in a thousand years.

Yet such a terrifying figure was merely second on the Earth List.

Such a person, if he survives, is destined to tower above all four nations.

Though his strength surpasses Dou Changsheng’s, Ma Liren still felt a vast chasm between them—one heaven, one earth.

The Wulin Tower official came swiftly and departed just as quickly, vanishing soon after.

After watching the man’s back disappear, Ma Liren turned to Dou Changsheng and said: “Tonight’s upheaval has been taxing, Hero Dou.”

“Your sister must have been frightened as well. Leave this to me—you should go see her.”

“If you need anything, just send someone to find me.”

Dou Changsheng’s face remained expressionless; having accepted Chen Taizhen’s death at Jin Sanming’s hands, he accepted that he now had a sister.

Dou Changsheng inquired after someone, then arrived before a carriage. An elderly swordswoman personally lifted the curtain, and Dou Changsheng saw Chen—no, Dou Taizhen—once more.

Dou Taizhen raised her hand, signaling Dou Changsheng to sit.

Holding a scroll, she brushed her bangs behind her ear, never looking at Dou Changsheng, her gaze fixed on the book as she spoke: “Your abilities are somewhat unexpected.”

“Not only did Wulin Tower misjudge you, but I did too.”

“An eighteen-year-old Xiantian True Realm cultivator.”

“You surpass ninety-nine percent of the world.”

“In my lifetime, I’ve seen only a handful such as you.”

“You have the right to make me change Chen to Dou.”

“I borrowed your fortune to evade the Thunder Tribulation—I will not betray you.”

“Chen Qingyao once demanded this Great Jin. I promised him—he had the right to substitute himself, replacing Liu with Chen.”

“Master Jin was a stubborn man. I tormented him for years, agreeing to many conditions, just to secure Chen Qingyao one chance.”

“You, too, have one chance—but the drawbacks are clear.”

“My last Thunder Tribulation barely passed, damaging my cultivation. Evil thoughts frequently arise, and my behavior turns vile—you may not survive the ordeal and perish midway.”

“Few in the world grow as smoothly as Chen Qingyao did.”

“Our fortunes are linked.”

“You’re fortunate—you caught me in a lucid state. Otherwise, she would never have offered you this chance. Consider carefully.”

The four nations, the grasslands, even the entire world.

Such vast powers must be backed by a Heaven List cultivator.

Yet these strong ones, due to the Thunder Tribulation, rarely involve themselves in worldly struggles.

Chen replacing Liu.

Without the support of the Immortal Witch, it would be pure fantasy.

But if she nods, you gain the right—this is the power of a Heaven List cultivator: a nation’s rise or fall hinges on a single will.

Wait.

Fortunes linked.

Dou Changsheng had initially thought misfortune had struck.

Suddenly, he realized it was not so.

His gaze fixed on Dou Taizhen, he spoke firmly: “Fine.”

One knows one’s own affairs best.

Just ask.

My dozens of Dou misfortunes in one punch.

Can you withstand it?