Chapter 398: Qinglong Creek has so much water, the toad has four legs

Cloud Scenery Mountain.

A small, green, limpid pool of water.

The water color is emerald green and translucent, and though not large, it is clearly extremely deep.

Sitting by the edge of the green pool is a middle-aged Daoist, wearing a Longhu Mountain Daoist robe. His appearance is plain, the kind that would be lost in a crowd. His robe has patches, so it can only be considered simple; it is not the yellow and purple attire that best highlights the status of the Celestial Master Mansion.

The Daoist's expression is focused, facing the secluded pool, holding a green bamboo fishing rod in his hand as if fishing, the long line of the bamboo rod sinking into the pool. If someone's gaze could penetrate the deep, secluded pool to see the tip of the long line, they would discover there is neither hook nor bait.

A green leaf drifts by.

The middle-aged Daoist suddenly feels a stir in his heart, reaches out to pluck the green leaf into his hand, gazes at the shifting veins, and occasionally raises his hand to pinch his fingers to calculate the heavenly secrets.

At first, everything was under control; even with minor details, it did not affect the overall situation. The middle-aged Daoist's demeanor was leisurely, with a plan already in mind, when suddenly his brows furrowed, staring fixedly at the green leaf.

Yet he saw a vein abruptly spread out, extending in all directions, with a tendency to occupy the entire leaf, but then the green leaf turned withered and yellow, and transformed into a puff of powder that drifted away.

The middle-aged Daoist was stunned and speechless, watching the powder drift and scatter onto the surface of the deep, worried pool, his expression sinking slightly.

"A variable, a variable; how could such a variable emerge so abruptly?"

The Daoist's brows were tightly furrowed. He is already a figure like a god or immortal, overlooking the vicissitudes of the human world, and considers himself capable of calculating without omission, occupying the position of "Number Armor" among the different versions of the "Spring and Autumn Thirteen Armor."

What exactly is the matter that he failed to calculate?

And what exactly is the matter that would trigger such a change?

The middle-aged Daoist suddenly remembered something, raised his head to look in the direction of Huishan, and a pair of deep pupils seemed to ignite with dark flames that could pierce through all mysteries.

Originally, strands of Qi were rising from Huishan, some strong and some weak, the strength changing at every moment, filling the space beneath the firmament. But regardless of strength, they all appeared dim and inexplicable, as if the light of spirituality had been obscured.

But now, the dimness has been swept away. The originally tyrannical Qi belonging to Xuanyuan Dapan has dissipated, replaced by a righteous and majestic Qi that shocks the firmament, and faintly carries a strange and terrifying quality. This Qi is truly incomparably strong, absorbing the Luck from all directions, and actually seems to have the momentum of a Flood Dragon.

"This..." The middle-aged Daoist's expression changed slightly, his brows tightly furrowed: "If I am not mistaken, the owner of this Qi is undoubtedly Murong Tonghuang, who has recently been making a great stir on Huishan. But what virtue or ability does this person have to be able to turn into a Flood Dragon and swallow up Luck?"

"If such a tyrannical figure is not curbed, he will be another figure like the 'Human Butcher' Xu Xiao, shaking the Liyang National Fortune." The middle-aged Daoist sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, his expression solemn, as the Qi from all directions gathered toward him.

About a quarter of an hour later, a ripple suddenly appeared at the center of the middle-aged Daoist's brow.

Invisible Qi circulated, and the ripple flew off into the distance, like a stream of light projecting onto that strand of Luck on Huishan, staining it with a faint trace of blood and black gas. And like a leech, it continuously absorbed and grew stronger.

"This strand of Luck is still weak, and it just so happens that I discovered it; it ought to be used by me."

The middle-aged Daoist exhaled a breath, his mind returning to a state of stillness: "However, since such a major event has occurred, it is time to go to Huishan to take a look."

Longhu Mountain is the main court of the Daoist Canon, and the Daoist Zhao Family, which shares the same surname as the Son of Heaven, has been a hereditary Daoist lineage for over sixty generations.

Broadly speaking, everything west of the Shejiang almost entirely belongs to this Daoist immortal capital.

Together with the Zhang Family in the north, who produced the Most Holy Master and Teacher of Ten Thousand Generations, they are known as the "Northern Zhang and Southern Zhao"; the Northern Fuzi and Southern Zhenren have shone together for a thousand years.

On the Shejiang, a small boat traveled up the river.

"The rolling Changjiang flows eastward, the waves wash away the heroes, right and wrong, success and failure, turn your head to look..."

Yu Liancheng stood on the boat with his hands behind his back, the river wind blowing his clothes, his black hair flying, a faint smile on that incomparably beautiful face, elegant and peerless.

Suddenly, his heart sank slightly, and a faint sense of warning arose, as if someone were plotting against him, but it vanished in an instant, as if it were just an illusion.

He pinched his fingers to calculate, already having a plan in his heart, though he was not in a hurry to deal with it, just a cold smile appearing at the corner of his mouth inadvertently.

"Good lyrics. I didn't expect that not only is the Young Master's martial arts extraordinary, but his literary talent is also romantic; reciting it casually, it is a classic for the ages..." Dressed in a black dress, Xuanyuan Qingfeng, who looked like an elf, stood behind Yu Liancheng, her beautiful eyes shimmering with a glistening luster.

She had a Confucian Sage for a father and had been influenced by him since childhood, so she had quite an accomplishment in literature. Moreover, even a wild fisherman could taste the extraordinary nature of this poem.

"It's not just something I heard someone else recite by chance." Yu Liancheng shrugged and laughed: "If I were to write it, it would probably be 'Shejiang has so much water, the turtle has four legs'."

A giggle came, and it was Murong Wuzhu, who was holding her long skirt and sitting at the bow of the boat. She put her white and tender little feet into the water, kicking the spray, swinging them back and forth.

"Tonghuang, you clearly have a way with words, yet every time you say you heard someone else recite them. Sister has lived with you since childhood; why haven't I heard them?" Murong Wuzhu blinked, her long eyelashes fluttering, and her eyes seemed to ripple with something called innocence.

"Mind your own business, you talk too much." Yu Liancheng tapped Murong Wuzhu on the head.

"Hmph, I am the older sister; I said you aren't allowed to tap my head." Murong Wuzhu pouted and kicked water at Yu Liancheng with her bare feet.

"Hmph, take this."

Yu Liancheng did not show weakness and reached out to splash water on Murong Wuzhu.

Xuanyuan Qingfeng looked enviously at this pair of siblings. Although she had many cousins on Huishan, they were almost all on good terms only on the surface, and everyone had their own agenda. For the sake of a tiny bit of profit, they would rack their brains to plot against each other.

And this water fight ended quickly. How could Murong Wuzhu be Yu Liancheng's match? Before long, she was soaked all over, her hair sticking to her cheeks. Her plain white dress clung to her body, outlining her graceful figure. Far from being disheveled, she instead had a hint of alluring beauty, making one afraid to look directly but unable to look away.

"Stinky Tonghuang, I'm ignoring you." Murong Wuzhu ran into the boat to change her clothes, kicking Yu Liancheng on the way. But she couldn't bear to kick too hard, and she was almost caught by her bare feet, hurriedly running away like a little rabbit.

"Qingfeng, Longhu Mountain and Huishan are old neighbors. Are you familiar with Longhu Mountain?"

Yu Liancheng looked at Xuanyuan Qingfeng with a smile, the sunlight falling on his face, appearing exceptionally warm and gentle, as if it could melt ice and snow.

But Xuanyuan Qingfeng knew that this gentle face could be torn off at any time, turning into a strange and domineering appearance, completely disregarding anyone.

But this was also one of his charms.

"I know a little." Xuanyuan Qingfeng nodded and recounted everything she knew one by one.

"The Daoist schools of the world form a tripod. Longhu Mountain is valued by the current Imperial Court and has been the leader of the Daoist orthodoxy for hundreds of years. The Four Great Heavenly Masters are each more profound and mysterious than the last, and geniuses emerge in succession; almost every generation, one or two peerless geniuses with the potential to become the Sect Leader emerge."

"Especially fifty years ago, there was Qi Xuanzheng, who slaughtered the six protectors of the Demon sect with his own strength. His cultivation was heaven-reaching, but it is a pity that until he ascended at the Demon-Slaying Platform on Longhu Mountain, this Zhenren never competed with Wang Xianzhi; otherwise, the title of world's number one would not have remained vacant."

"The Four Great Heavenly Masters are Zhao Xiyi, Zhao Xituan, Zhao Danping, and Zhao Danxia. Zhao Xiyi has the highest seniority and seems to have never had any news leaked; he is mysterious and unpredictable. Zhao Xituan ranks second in seniority but has the least real power. National Master Zhao Danxia leads the Daoist schools of the world, with power equal to that of a prince, and has earned the reputation of 'Feathered Minister and Prime Minister.' National Master Zhao's younger brother, Zhao Danping, spends more than half the year in the Capital preaching, and his reputation is not a bit inferior to Zhao Danxia's."

"Zhao Family clansman Zhao Jingchen is responsible for the mansion's reception, and Bai Yu, who was awarded purple and given a title by the Son of Heaven, is responsible for academic debates and often opens altars to lecture on scriptures. Qi Xianxia, who is a Daoist with a different surname like White Lotus Master, only cares about practicing sword techniques and occasionally teaches sword techniques to Daoists below the 'Jing' generation..."

Clearly, Xuanyuan Qingfeng had done her homework before following Yu Liancheng to Longhu Mountain. At this moment, she introduced the important figures of the Celestial Master Mansion one by one, and the division of factions was clear and distinct.

"The various branches of the Celestial Master Mansion are of the same breath and branch, each enjoying their own glory, complementing each other, which is why Longhu Mountain, the leader of the Daoist schools, has such monstrous glory today."

Speaking of this, Xuanyuan Qingfeng suddenly revealed a smile, carrying a bit of schadenfreude: "Of course, the Celestial Master Mansion is by no means a monolith. Fifty years ago, there was Qi Xuanzheng suppressing the Celestial Master Mansion, and now White Lotus Master and Qi Xianxia are both outsiders with the surname Zhao. With the main branch weak and the branches strong, the infighting within is, I fear, no less than that of the Xuanyuan Family."

When she said the four words "Xuanyuan Family," her face had no extra fluctuations; it is unknown if she truly did not care anymore, or if her thoughts were hidden even deeper.

The small boat went down the Shejiang, merged into the Longwang River, and entered the Qinglong Creek. The scenery along the bank was like a painting, the light shifting. When they looked up again, Longhu Mountain was already not far away.

A bamboo raft drifted down the Qinglong Creek. On the raft stood a young Daoist wearing a yellow and purple Daoist robe. He was very tall and did not use a pole, just drifting with the river, a dashing smile on his face.

The yellow-and-purple-robed Daoist is named Zhao Ningyun, and his background is quite significant.

His father is Zhao Jingchen, who ranks first among the "Jing" generation, and his grandfather is the sect leader of Longhu Mountain, the Feathered Minister and Prime Minister, and one of the Four Great Heavenly Masters, Zhao Danxia.

Zhao Ningyun stood with his hands behind his back, his Daoist robes fluttering, and with a rather ethereal face, he possessed a somewhat transcendent and dashing air. Some scholars and refined gentlemen seeking immortals on Longhu Mountain, upon seeing this scene, all revealed expressions of admiration and longing.

Zhao Ningyun enjoyed such gazes, but soon discovered that the crowd's attention had shifted toward a boat that was about to pass his, their eyes fixed and their expressions filled with astonishment.

But when Zhao Ningyun saw the three figures on the boat, he could not help but reveal an expression of astonishment himself.

One was in a white dress, drifting and ethereal, with beauty that could topple kingdoms.

One was dressed in plain black, with a face of absolute beauty.

One was peerless in grace, transcendent and refined.

There are many Daoist sisters and aunts on this Longhu Mountain, but it seems no one can compare to these three.

Especially the last one; although Zhao Ningyun clearly recognized him as a man, he still had to admit that every movement he made exuded a charm that made people sink into it, transcending the beauty of mere appearance.

Longhu Mountain does not forbid female company; if one could embrace these three beauties and taste their fragrance, it would be a great joy in life.

Where there is a thought, there is action.

The young yellow-and-purple-robed Daoist, who is very favored on Longhu Mountain, flicked his arm and landed lightly on the small boat opposite, saying with a smile: "I am Zhao Ningyun of the Celestial Master Mansion. May I ask if the three of you are here to tour Longhu Mountain? I can act as your guide."

Murong Wuzhu pouted her rosy lips and said with a ripple in her eyes: "You Daoist, we didn't invite you onto the boat, so why did you run up here yourself?"

It was Xuanyuan Qingfeng, who is always cold and arrogant, who said in a slightly gentle voice: "We come from Huishan to visit the Four Great Heavenly Masters, wishing to request a Flood Dragon." In reality, she was worried that the temperamental master would suddenly flip his lid and offend Longhu Mountain for no reason.

Zhao Ningyun was clearly stunned when he heard the two words "Huishan."

But hearing that they came to request a Flood Dragon, he couldn't help but chuckle in his heart.

A Flood Dragon is a spiritual treasure of heaven and earth, raised in the Dragon Pool, and is extremely precious.

So what if they are from the Xuanyuan clan of Huishan? Can they compare to Longhu Mountain, the "home of immortal guests in the Celestial Master Mansion, and the home of prime ministers on Longhu Mountain"?

The Edo says that Huishan and Longhu Mountain are in a standoff. But how could the foundation of Longhu Mountain be compared to a mere little Huishan? Who knows how many gods have emerged from here in the past.

But it must be said, the girls on Huishan are truly fresh and lovely.

Zhao Ningyun's mind turned, and he already had a plan, revealing a face he thought was dashing: "The three of you might as well come with me. I will report to the Four Great Heavenly Masters. However, the Four Great Heavenly Masters are high above and busy with affairs, so the three of you might have to wait a while. During this time, I will entertain the three of you and let you fully enjoy the beautiful scenery of Longhu Mountain."

Yet he still had not given up his plan to taste their fragrance, and even wanted to have them all to himself.

Yu Liancheng said indifferently: "A good dog doesn't block the road. Get lost!"

Zhao Ningyun's expression changed instantly.

Xuanyuan Qingfeng sighed and said: "Daoist, the one we are looking for is the Great Heavenly Master. If you are not the Great Heavenly Master of the Celestial Master Mansion, then please step aside."

Zhao Ningyun, who ranks among the best of the "Ning" generation on Longhu Mountain, looked at Yu Liancheng gloomily: "How dare you impersonate the Xuanyuan clan of Huishan! Watch as I capture you and send you to Huishan for punishment."

After Zhao Ningyun finished speaking, he struck out fiercely. His words were quite a true inheritance from his father: first throw a big hat on them, not giving them a chance to explain before attacking, just to vent the foul air in his heart first.

As for whether these three were truly the Xuanyuan clan of Huishan, it would just be a misunderstanding.

However, these three were all delicate beauties, so he did not use lethal force in his attack, instead carrying a hint of teasing, wanting to take advantage of them.

Splash!

Then, for some reason, Zhao Ningyun fell into the water, struggling constantly and gulping down mouthfuls of river water. With his martial arts and swimming ability, falling into the water would not have been a big deal.

But for some reason, he could not raise any True Qi in his dantian, his limbs were weak, and he just kept bobbing and struggling like a drowning dog.

Yu Liancheng smiled: "It seems the verse I made earlier is still quite fitting, though it needs a slight change."

"I know how to change it," Murong Wuzhu said hurriedly: "Qinglong Creek has so much water, a toad has four legs, splash, it jumps into the water..." Before she could finish, she burst into a charming laugh, as vibrant as ten thousand flowers blooming at once.

Xuanyuan Qingfeng sighed and shook her head. They were clearly here to ask for help, yet they offended someone the moment they arrived, but the corners of her lips could not help but lift into a smile.