Chapter 371: The Turtle Immortal

"Yingxin."

Yan Yan Chunyang closed his eyes, his heart thudded violently.

These forty-two days of silent sitting had nearly driven him mad; hearing Yingxin's voice now nearly broke his composure.

"Lord Hou, stabilize your spirit."

Yingxin was even more cautious: "Hold on a little longer—Master Mo Long arrives with the Emperor's edict; he'll reach Mount Hengshan in just a few days."

"Master Mo Long, where is my master…?"

Yan Yan Chunyang's nose warmed slightly.

Mo Long is the Grand Commander of the Dragon Shadow Guard—but he is not those Masters who died beneath my master's blade, nor those two Great Masters; he is my master's spiritual manifestation perfected.

Bearing the intent of the Demon-Slaying Blade, in some sense, he is as if my master himself has arrived!

"Lord Hou, do not panic—the Prince regards you as his own son; even Long Long Yingchan, as a Great Master, dares not lightly harm you."

A junior disciple glanced over, curious: "Senior Brother Wang, how does he know it's a fraud?"

Yingxin understood his thoughts but could only comfort: "Wait until Master Mo Long comprehends Yin and Yang—then revenge will not be too late."

"The late Emperor was assassinated; the Emperor has never forgotten. Delayed action does not mean no action."

But Yan Yan Chunyang suddenly called out to him: "By the way, have you ever used the Nourishing Stove to spy on anyone?"

His forehead was broad and slightly protruding, his face deeply wrinkled; when he smiled, it looked bizarre—and even stranger, in this bright sky, he held a tiny white umbrella, completely covering himself.

But he did not press further; he sat cross-legged, attempting to activate the unfamiliar Nourishing Stove—it was not difficult, for the stove recognized its master, and each time he urged it, it seemed to respond eagerly.

With a firm step, the boat reached shore; the boatman looked over and saw only an old man hunched over, wearing a bamboo hat, like a giant ghost wandering the riverbank.

Yet secretly, within each side's Daoist Tianyun Daoist Tianyun Xuanbing, lay a chance at trial within an ancient sect's ruins.

A fisherman was hauling his net when he heard the question and looked up.

"The Emperor is the late Emperor."

Bi Bi Xinlun's eyes brightened: "If Long Xi Xiang were here, and the Xieshen Sect moved…"

"How can the grudge of imprisonment go unavenged?"

"Useless—truly useless."

"Is this some kind of divination fee?"

"Wu Gong is tied to moral character."

In the great temple, Yan Yan Chunyang sat cross-legged; streams of light wove behind him into a scene—one of which was clearly Pei Pei Xingkong meditating in stillness.

"Who are these people?"

The old man smiled, gazing at Long Long Yingchan's retreating back, murmuring to himself.

"Huh?"

"What do you mean?"

The old man held his umbrella; his voice was deep and powerful.

"Where is my master? Still searching for the Four Temples?"

"If I truly win the top spot, it may not be bad—given my talent, if I enter one of these ancient sects, they may not abide by the rules…"

Long Long Yingchan could not argue further and had the boat dock; the disciples of Yiqi Mountain were overjoyed, grabbing their bags and leaping from the ten-zhang-high deck straight to the riverbank, drawing the gaze of many onlookers.

"Senior Brother Pei, have mercy on your junior brothers—we've been on this boat for seventy straight days, it's unbearable! Just stop for a day every now and then!"

"Hmm?"

"Senior Brother Pei, we've reached Fucheng—can we dock here for a few days?"

"Forgive the elder—my junior brother speaks without thought."

Hearing his sigh, Yan Yan Chunyang's head ached—he did not want to hear this old man complain and lecture, so he cut him off and changed the subject.

The old man smiled faintly; two banners fluttered down from beneath his tiny white umbrella, rising high in the wind.

"The many wonders of the Nourishing Stove cannot be fully wielded until one breaks through the Heavenly Gang barrier."

"Not yet!"

Huh-huh

"Boatman, go ashore, follow that rock, walk seven hundred and forty paces eastward, then dig down one zhang and eight chi…"

The shore had few people; upon hearing this, they began murmuring. The boatman froze, then immediately regretted it.

Yan Yan Chunyang's heart

Grew uneasy; over centuries, he had seen too many martial artists pay lip service while secretly defying orders—Longhu Temple even participated in the assassination of the late Emperor, proving their audacity.

"The Nourishing Stove is a sect's treasured artifact—how could it be used lightly?"

"Longhu Temple would never openly defy the imperial edict—but this matter has become widely known throughout the martial world; to ask them to simply release the man is unlikely…"

"Perhaps—but Wan Wan Zhuliu has not yet forged a Divine Palace; what merit do I have?"

The imperial court's younger generation had few outstanding figures; besides Shi Shi Qingyi of the Azure Dragon Pavilion, only Long Long Yingchan of Yiqi Mountain could rival Bi Bi Xinlun for the top spot.

Long Xi Xiang frowned deeply.

Long Xi Xiang nodded; if he were in their place, he too would abide by the rules.

Long Xi Xiang knew of his junior brother's minor grudge against Feng Yuanqing True Person and did not pursue it, shifting instead to talk of the Dao Competitions.

"Kill—of course we must kill."

Pei Pei Xingkong's heart stirred, surprised: "Does my master have no interest in this old turtle?"

Lord Hou's meaning is that I will invite Long Xi Xiang to ascend the mountain for a gathering; then, we will secretly infiltrate and rescue Bi Xin, avoiding direct confrontation and preventing Longhu Temple from striking at you covertly.

Bi Bi Xinlun sat with eyes closed, no longer challenging the lingering blade intent left by his master; instead, he calmed his aura and waited.

Long Xi Xiang sighed; sometimes he truly grew tired of explaining to those fools within the sect—it left him unsettled.

Yan Yan Chunyang had no understanding of this.

Bi Bi Xinlun wasn't too interested in this, asked a few casual questions, and Ying Xin had already taken advantage of the dark clouds covering the sun to slip away quietly.

Long Xi Xiang prepared to leave.

"Oh?"

This youth, with a sallow face, sat cross-legged beneath the deck, a long object on his back, only lacking a long sword held against his chest, seemingly breathing and practicing circulation.

A flash of killing intent crossed Yan Yan Chunyang's eyes: "Even if I were Wan Wan Zhuliu's own son, I still wouldn't have to die."

Saying so, he casually fished out a piece of broken silver, flicked it with a finger; the old man, quick of hand, grabbed the broken silver and weighed it in his palm:

"Speaking of which, those few families should have arrived by now too?"

"You always think too little."

"Let him try it on his own."

"When the time comes, Dragon Tiger Temple may not be in the mood to make a move against the Ink Dragon anymore — have you perhaps forgotten Fayin Fayin Tongzi and this Blood Vajra?"

This middle-aged swordsman gave a heavy cough, instructing the younger martial brothers and sisters:

In the Grand Canal, there were no lack of common folk who made a living by fishing; seeing this they found it quite strange, only some of the older ones had a hint of longing in their eyes.

"Not appropriate — if Dragon Tiger Temple secretly hides a Grandmaster in ambush and seizes the chance to strike, he may not be able to withstand it."

Ying Xin snorted coldly: "If Dragon Tiger Temple does not obey Your Majesty's decree, then the founding emperor's decree enfeoffing the realm would carry no weight either!"

"That old fellow…"

"If that's the case, winning first place is nothing much either way — it's just an opportunity for a True Transmission trial."

"The East Sea? That spirit turtle?"

Fucheng had many ships and many traveling merchants; at this moment quite a few people had their gazes drawn, including the disciples of Yi Qi Mountain Manor who had leapt down from the ship.

"Hoo~"

Hum~

Glancing at the great courtyard opposite, Long Xi Xiang felt a touch of regret: "A pity — Young Master Li is too young in years; if only it were pushed forward by ten years, that would be just right."

Ying Xin instinctively lowered his voice: "I heard from the Marquis that this Wu, the Mirror Lord, was in closed-door cultivation for four years before divining that this spirit turtle's body contains a great secret of ascending to the heavens…"

"Perhaps Wan Wan Zhuliu's illegitimate son?"

Bi Bi Xinlun set his mind at ease — not inferior to them, this one clearly had no chance of becoming a Dao Child, so it wouldn't hurt the mood.

"Old man, help me divine something…"

On the Grand Canal, one towering ship after another came from the south; a great vessel standing a full three stories tall slowly docked at the shore.

Ying Xin had something in mind, yet was quite wary, and turned to say:

"Watch your words and conduct."

"What you say is not wrong."

"Then forget it."

"This man dared to rape and murder a woman in our Mount Hengshan city — if he is not killed, it will be hard to appease the public's anger!"

Hearing this, he opened his eyes.

"Just some undead vengeful ghosts — killing them or not makes no difference."

"Not the head of the household, how would one know the head's difficulties?"

Pei Pei Xingkong frowned inwardly, feeling it was not appropriate:

"Old man, help me divine too — where is there gold?"

"Oh oh, that should be a disciple of Yi Qi Mountain Manor — look, on that ship, the flag hanging…"

Long Xi Xiang pinched his long brows, his gaze deep and dark: "That Wan Wan Zhuliu truly dotes on this disciple of his — to actually send a Spirit Aspect personally to make this trip…"

The two exchanged a few words, and the light and shadow before them dispersed.

Yan Yan Chunyang shook his head inwardly; although he could not recall what had happened over those seventy-odd years, he vaguely had some impression.

Fucheng, situated where the Moon-Gloom River meets the canal, was closest to Mount Hengshan Dao, so merchant caravans were never in short supply stopping here year-round.

At a glance, he spotted the painted pleasure boats moored by the river — each one graceful and beautiful, some floral, some crimson.

Pei Pei Xingkong calmed himself and asked again:

"Boatman?"

In the martial demonstration of the various Dao, the openly stated prize was that each house put up one supreme divine weapon; the lowest-ranked put up two, after which the winning Dao Sect received three, the next received two, and the one after that received one.

A middle-aged swordsman gave a cold laugh.

"Just one day…"

"Junior Zhang, this is your first time leaving the manor, but remember — any fortune-teller on the jianghu, every single one of them, is a fraud."

Long Xi Xiang commented: "Especially Long Long Yingchan — they say this youth quite has the bearing of Feng Yuanqing True Person, and has no interest in matters of men and women, with a steady temperament."

"Should be inferior to you and me."

"The Azure Dragon Pavilion is a long journey; Yi Qi Mountain Manor was delayed by some matter — I heard Feng Yuanqing True Person was blocked at his door for several months by an old flame from his early years…"

On the great ship, someone was pleading — it was a youth with delicate features, tugging at a young man with a sallow complexion; beside them were several youths carrying long swords and long sabers on their backs, who all looked over as well.

"This place — the people here have rather shallow blessed affinity." Bi Bi Xinlun frowned: "The atmosphere of pleasure-houses here is too strong, not suitable for docking; wait until we enter Mount Hengshan Dao, then find a city to dock — it's not too late."

He flicked a finger, and all the scenery dispersed, leaving only Pei Pei Xingkong's figure rapidly enlarged to over a man's height; Yan Yan Chunyang took one look and had already spotted that faint, half-real shadow:

The young disciples, hearing this, all felt it made sense.

Bi Bi Xinlun warned him with a glance: "After I go up the mountain, there may be some changes; when the time comes, you may handle it as you see fit — act cleanly and decisively, lest people gossip — that is best."

"Living immortal!"

Rules are rules — a True Transmission trial opened by a Weapon Lord, winning or losing is nothing much; but if a candidate for Dao Child enters the ruins of one's own sect, then those rules are worth nothing at all.

Is that a fortune-teller?

"Very good talent?"

No matter how small the rule, the small one is Daoist Tianyun Daoist Tianyun Xuanbing.

That is the lack of communication between the Qixiaodao Sect, and also the reason for delaying the screening out of those from the imperial court.

"Just imagine, once he has the ability to tell fortunes, does he hide it for his own use, or does he point out to the rest of us how to get rich, in exchange for this bit of divination fee?"

"Enough, listen to him."

"But…"

The Gusu Dao is situated in the southeast, with little water and many mountains within its borders. The Pingjiang Grand Canal runs through the various Daos, and since it has been entrenched in this Dao the longest, the various great and small cities of Dacheng are all located beside the canal, hence commerce is extremely prosperous.

Yan Yan Chunyang was somewhat suspicious, but Long Xi Xiang had warned him once, and was already drifting away.

Bi Bi Xinlun frowned.

"Hard to say."

But he saw a banner that read: "What do you ask?"

"Oh, thank you."

Pei Pei Xingkong nodded, deeply agreeing.

A smile appeared on Bi Bi Xinlun's face.

The boatman felt disappointed in his heart, but someone grinned broadly, and following the direction the old man had indicated, walked slowly. Zhong Gong was quite good; in a short while, exclamations came from over there.

"Yo, a swindler."

The boatman was stunned: "Why, why?"

"Whoosh~"

"Yiqi Mountain Manor…"

"What?"

"Senior Brother Wang is right."

Suddenly, the old man turned his head back, and the boatman was so startled he gave a shudder, hurriedly squeezing out a smile.

Yan Yan Chunyang sized him up carefully; under the interplay of light and shadow, it seemed as if he were face to face with Pei Pei Xingkong: "This person's appearance seems somewhat similar to Wan Wan Zhuliu."

Another one read: "Don't ask what?"

Long Long Yingchan's brow furrowed slightly, he gave a soft rebuke, then cupped his hands in a bow toward the old man who had looked over:

……

The old man glanced over, and on the banner of the great ship, the character "—" was prominently inscribed in a bold and vigorous hand, quite imposing.

"—"

No one spoke, but the crowd all began to egg each other on.

On his body, only that one spiritual pill remained.

"The Dragon Shadow Guard is indeed hard to kill, no wonder the nerve is so great."

Watching the various scenes woven from light and shadow, Yan Yan Chunyang relaxed his brow, captivated by these images:

The Hengshan Dao is situated east of the Grand Canal, bordering the Eastern Sea; to its south lies the Gusu Dao.

The boatman, as well as the traveling merchants who had been drawn by him, all watched attentively.

Ying Xin comforted softly: "Not to mention there is still Your Majesty's decree."

"Seventy taels of gold!"

"Originally it was, but later it was diverted to the shores of the Eastern Sea."

"Yes, Senior Brother Pei."

"Several months later, the Qintian Supervisor, Supervisor Wu, came out of seclusion."

Yan Yan Chunyang's heart gave a jolt: "Could Your Majesty intend…"

Yan Yan Chunyang gave a cold snort. He and this True Person Feng Yuanqing could be considered half of the same generation, and had some friendship back in the day, but it was a friendship of fists and feet.

Bi Bi Xinlun stood to one side, explaining the use of the Yangsheng Furnace to him.

"Is that so?"

"Hmm?"

"These men of the jianghu acknowledge neither ruler nor father; I'm afraid they may not necessarily care about Your Majesty's decree?"

Bi Bi Xinlun was slightly taken aback: "I suppose so, but Pei does not have anything he wishes to divine."

"True Person Feng Yuanqing's talent is extremely good, his opportunities also good; if not for being too dissolute and unrestrained, he might have long since broken through the mysteries of the 'Divine Palace.'"

A flat-bottomed boat went up with the current, on which stood an oddly-dressed old man. He was short and small, slightly stooped, wearing a brownish-yellow garment, with a bamboo hat on his back.

"That old fellow is lecherous by nature, often dashing and free; in old age, he will inevitably have to pay it back."