Chapter 72

But if they wouldn't step up, naturally someone else had to.

Murong Fu leaped onto the great bluestone, grabbed a white piece from the large bamboo basket beside him, and precisely tossed it onto the 7-9 point of the "go" position.

Suxinghe nodded inwardly—this move was precisely the key to breaking the "Zhenlong Chess Game."

Clearly, Murong Fu's attainments in the Way of Go were extraordinary as well.

Just as he was about to play a black piece, a black piece suddenly flew out from the large bamboo basket and landed in Kurong Zhizhi's hand.

It had been snatched away by Kurong Zhizhi using the "Crane-Catching Art."

Kurong Zhizhi smiled slightly: "Young Master Murong, though your Wu Gong is strong, I'm afraid your skill at Go is merely ordinary. This humble monk will take the liberty of playing a few moves against Mr. Su in your place."

As he spoke, the black piece landed on the 8-8 point of the "go" position—precisely where Suxinghe intended to play.

Murong Fu's gaze turned cold, and he said icily: "Not necessarily a loss to you."

With a sweep of his hand, a white piece landed on the 5-6 point of the "go" position.

Kurong Zhizhi followed by placing a black piece on the 4-5 point of the "go" position.

The two went back and forth for three moves, then Murong Fu suddenly stopped.

078 Kurong Zhizhi: Murong, I'm your uncle!

Before stepping up, Murong Fu had carefully observed Suxinghe's patterns, and had pondered this game at length, confident he had already worked out the solution.

But Kurong Zhizhi's move had taken him completely by surprise.

The entire strategy he had planned fell through completely; he had to start over from the beginning, and his heart grew increasingly irritated, his disgust with Kurong Zhizhi deepening.

But with all eyes upon him, he could not give way to his temper, so for now he could only force himself to be patient and rethink.

After a long while, he played another piece.

By contrast, Kurong Zhizhi thought extremely fast and played immediately after.

One fast, one slow, they played over twenty pieces, when Kurong Zhizhi suddenly burst into laughter: "Young Master Murong, let's call it a draw!"

Murong Fu raged: "You're just messing about blindly! Then you come and solve it yourself."

Kurong Zhizhi took no offense and laughed: "This chess game—no one in the world can solve it to begin with; it was made to toy with people. This humble monk knows his own limits and doesn't wish to waste more effort on a futile matter."

"But Young Master Murong, you can't even shake off my entanglement on the edges and corners—do you still dream of contending for the Central Plains?"

Kurong Zhizhi's face carried deep meaning, his words carrying a double meaning, but to Murong Fu's ears it struck like a bolt from a clear sky, and he stood rooted to the spot in a daze.

His mind went blank, and over and over again those two sentences echoed: "You can't even shake off my entanglement on the edges and corners—do you still dream of contending for the Central Plains?"

For a moment, his heart turned to ash, a hundred feelings welling up at once.

Gradually, his vision blurred, and the white and black pieces on the board seemed to transform into generals, officers, soldiers, and conscripts—here a clump of troops, there a stretch of camp, you surrounding me, me surrounding you, tangled together in an indistinguishable slaughter.

Murong Fu watched helplessly as his own white-bannered, white-armored troops were surrounded by the black-bannered, black-armored enemy; they charged left and broke right, yet could never fight their way out of the encirclement.

Murong Fu's heart grew more and more anxious: "The Mandate of Heaven has abandoned the Murong clan; all my scheming is in vain. I have spent my whole life striving with all my heart, only for it to dissolve into a spring dream! Such is fate, such is destiny—what more is there to say?"

Suddenly he let out a great cry, drew his sword, and slashed at his own neck.

This turn of events caught everyone completely off guard; startled by the sudden change, they cried out in low voices.

The four great retainers rushed forward together to save him, but it was already too late.

Just then, a voice was heard calling urgently: "You mustn't—!"

Then came a "hiss," Murong Fu's long sword wavered in his hand, and with a "clang" it dropped to the ground.

Along with it fell a small, fine pebble.

The crowd all turned to look at Hearing Xu Zhu.

It was he who had just thrown the stone as a hidden weapon to save Murong Fu.

Jiang Sishui was also watching this honest Monk, his heart full of wonder.

Murong Fu being stirred by the chess game into his inner demon, losing all will to live and attempting to slit his own throat—this also happened in the original work, and Kurong Zhizhi had also been the one stirring up trouble back then.

But that time it was Duan Yu who saved him with the "Six Meridian Divine Sword," whereas now Duan Yu hadn't even come.

Jiang Sishui had originally thought Murong Fu was doomed, but who would have thought Hearing Xu Zhu would leap out as well.

It seemed this fellow truly was not fated to die.

Murong Fu's long sword slipped from his hand; startled, he awoke from the Illusionary Realm, yet his expression remained blank: "What happened to me?"

Ah Zhu explained: "Just now, Young Master was bewitched by this chess game and nearly slit his own throat. Fortunately, this little Master threw a stone and knocked the sword from Young Master's hand."

Gongye Qian, one of the four great retainers, also advised: "Young Master, this chess game bewitches the mind—it seems to contain Illusion within it. Young Master need not trouble himself further."

Murong Fu, upon learning the full story, was both startled and afraid. He turned to look at Hearing Xu Zhu, his feelings somewhat complicated, and said in a clear voice: "Many thanks, little Master, for your righteous aid. The Murongs of Gusu will bear this in mind!"

Because two days ago, in the Contest of Lightness Skills, it was Murong Fu who had won, and toward those beneath him, Murong Fu had always been rather magnanimous.

Thus this word of thanks came from the heart.

Hearing Xu Zhu, seeing this, hurriedly pressed his palms together in return: "Amitabha, saving one life is worth more than building a seven-tiered pagoda—this is what this humble monk ought to do."

The gathered heroes, seeing this, couldn't help but smile.

This ugly Monk really was a rare sort of simpleton, utterly unlike those old bald thieves they had seen who had Mankou of compassion and a belly full of bad water.

Murong Fu withdrew his gaze, shot a sideways glance at Kurong Zhizhi, and said: "I, too, will engrave today's 'instruction' upon my heart, Master."

Kurong Zhizhi's eyes darkened, and with a smile that didn't reach them, he said: "This humble monk has had decades of friendship with your late father, Young Master Murong—no need for such formality."

This was a way of elevating his own seniority, putting himself above Murong Fu—it was all but pointing at his nose and saying: I am your uncle, you are my nephew, my teaching you is only proper, no need for thanks!

Murong Fu's face turned iron-blue, he gave a cold snort, and leaped down from the great bluestone.

Kurong Zhizhi also retreated with a smiling face.

Suxinghe looked at the others once more.

The gathered heroes looked at one another, yet no one stepped forward.

With Tang Bohu's earlier mad display and disgrace, and now Murong Fu's fall into inner demons and attempted suicide, the heroes also knew this "Zhenlong Chess Game" seemed even more uncanny; they had their misgivings and dared not step forward.

"Obsession… inner demons…"

Huang Rong recalled the information about Murong Fu from the diary, connected it with his earlier performance and Tang Bohu's demeanor, and vaguely understood.

So she feigned surprise and said to Huang Yaoshi, "Father, won't you go up and try?"

Huang Yaoshi fell silent for a moment, shook his head, and said, "I cannot solve it; trying would be useless."

Huang Rong made an "Oh" sound, glanced at Feng Heng once more, and then said nothing.

On the other side, Hu Hu Tiehua sighed heavily: "It's a pity it's not a chess game; otherwise, with Old Stinker's brain, he would surely open the eyes of all the heroes present."

Chu Chu Liuxiang smiled slightly: "We came only to watch the excitement."

Hu Hu Tiehua lamented: "It seems the secret behind the 'Zhenlong Chess Game' cannot be solved again. By the way, are you not curious at all?"

Speaking thus, Hu Hu Tiehua looked at Gao Yanan with suspicion and said, "Yanan, I feel as if you already know."

Gao Yanan rolled her eyes at him and retorted, "What is my origin?"

Hu Hu Tiehua was stunned, not understanding her meaning, but still said, "A disciple of the Huashan Sect."

"Then what relationship does the Huashan Sect have with the Xiaoyao Sect?"

"Relationship? You are in Shanzhou, the other in Suzhou, separated by tens of thousands of li; what relationship could there be?" (Wang Hao)

Gao Yanan said impatiently, "Since there is no relationship, and I am not a disciple of the Feixiaoyao Sect, how could I possibly know the secret behind the chess game?"

Hu Hu Tiehua had no rebuttal, but still muttered quietly, "That is true, but I just feel you know."

Seeing Hu Hu Tiehua stubborn, Chu Chu Liuxiang could not help but laugh.

Gao Yanan, however, felt a chill in her heart.

This enemy's intuition is truly sharp.

Not knowing what she thought of, Gao Yanan secretly sighed.

Seeing that no one at the table stepped forward, Su Suxinghe was just about to rise when suddenly a voice drifted lazily from afar: "The Zhenlong Chess Game; I would like to try it."

Zhao Qiying recognized the voice and turned to look at Jiang Sishui.

Jiang Sishui happened to be looking at her and whispered, "You have come at the perfect time; we shall avenge the grudge of that day together."

Zhao Qiying nodded her head lightly.

A sound of breaking the air was heard, and three figures arrived side by side.

It was precisely Duan Yanqing, Ye Mengse, and the South Sea Crocodile God.

079 Jealousy Takes Hold, Murong Fu's Challenge

As the Three Great Evils appeared, the South Sea Crocodile God's voice, like metal scraping against metal, shouted out—

"Our boss saw the invitation and was very pleased; he put aside all other matters and rushed here to play chess. His Wu Gong is invincible under heaven, even more powerful than I, the Second Brother Yue."

"Whoever is dissatisfied, come up and play three moves of chess with him."

"Do you wish to fight one by one, or all together? Why do you not yet draw your weapons?"