Although he had discovered that tribulation cultivator, Gu Chengming had no intention of making a move.
He threaded through the crowded throng and soon found his own Elder in a corner at the stern that had both an excellent view and shelter from the wind.
Yu Wenqiu was at that moment sprawled utterly without dignity over the railing, half a pot of pilfered spirit wine dangling from one hand while the other held a half-eaten string of candied haws, pointing and commenting at the lotus lanterns drifting along the river's current.
"That lantern's set crooked—must've been some insincere soul praying for a marriage match."
Yu Wenqiu took a bite of candied haw and mumbled indistinctly.
Using the cover of his position, Gu Chengming sent a thread of condensed divine-sense voice-transmission straight into Yu Wenqiu's ear:
"Elder, don't turn around—just listen to me."
Yu Wenqiu's hand, just reaching for a second string of candied haws, abruptly froze. Her originally loose, languid silhouette tensed slightly for an instant, but quickly relaxed again, still keeping that lantern-admiring posture—only those peach-blossom eyes narrowed faintly.
"Something's happened?" she transmitted back.
"I've found that Third-Realm tribulation cultivator who escaped from the Jubo Commerce Guild half a month ago, right here on this boat."
Gu Chengming was concise and to the point: "On the second floor, the Heaven Number Three room. I've locked onto his aura—there's no mistake."
Yu Wenqiu masked that instant of astonishment with the motion of taking a drink.
"How do you mean to handle it?" she asked. "Though the Great Qian has its dragon energy standing guard, once a fight breaks out for real it's hard to avoid harming the innocent—and there's no telling whether someone might dump this whole mess onto the Wenjian Sect."
Gu Chengming replied: "No need to make a move ourselves. This boat belongs to the Harmonious Joy Sect, so naturally it should be theirs to fret over."
Hearing this, Yu Wenqiu was rather appreciative: "Not bad, Little Gu—your way of handling things grows steadier by the day. Quite the bearing this Elder had back in her own time."
"Since that's the case, then you go and notify that Steward Yun. I'll keep watch here—if that fellow makes any move, I'll be the first to strike and suppress him."
Though she loved to slack off in ordinary times, when it came to serious business this Third-Realm Elder Yu Wenqiu was still dependable.
With that promise of hers, Gu Chengming's heart settled completely.
"Then I'll trouble you, Elder."
Gu Chengming cupped his hands in salute, turned, and melted into the crowd.
In the first-floor main hall, the sound of strings and flutes grew ever more urgent; that much-anticipated "Flower-Courtesan Banquet" was about to begin.
Yun Wan was standing at the head of the stairs, a gilded gift-list in hand, quietly instructing several trusted handmaids on the order in which the dishes were to be served shortly.
Busy as she was today, the joy in her brows and eyes was hard to conceal—tonight's takings on this Drunken Dream Boat would likely match half a year's earnings of ordinary days.
"Steward Yun."
Yun Wan turned her head and, seeing that it was Gu Chengming returned after having left, her heart gave a lurch. A moment ago this man had said the banquet arrangements might carry some risk, and now in the blink of an eye here he was again—could something have gone wrong?
"Young Master Gu?" Yun Wan waved the handmaids away. "Is there something amiss with the arrangements in the rear chamber?"
Gu Chengming stepped to Yun Wan's side and, by voice-transmission, told of his recent discovery. When Gu Chengming mentioned the tribulation cultivator from the Jubo Commerce Guild half a month ago, Yun Wan's expression instantly stiffened, realizing the gravity of the situation.
Tonight was the fair Shangyuan Festival, and the boat was packed with sect disciples and officials. Should this tribulation cultivator embark on a killing spree or seize some honored guest, the Harmonious Joy Sect's century of careful cultivation in the Capital would be ruined in a single stroke.
Cold sweat seeping out, Yun Wan forced herself to calm down amid her shock and fury.
"Many thanks for informing me, Young Master Gu."
Yun Wan bowed deeply to Gu Chengming, then drew from her sleeve a warm-lustered message jade-slip, exhaled a trace of spiritual power from her fingertips, and ever so discreetly input a message.
"Rest assured, Young Master Gu. Tonight, on this Drunken Dream Boat, our sect has two more inner-gate Elders standing guard, both of Third-Realm cultivation. They were here originally to guard against rowdy drunkards causing trouble—who would have thought…"
Hearing this, the stone weighing on Gu Chengming's heart could at last be reckoned to have completely dropped.
"Two Third-Realm Elders, plus the suppression of this Drunken Dream Boat's own formation—dealing with a single early-Third-Realm tribulation cultivator should be a near-certain thing."
"Since Steward Yun has already made arrangements, then it would be improper for me to interfere." Gu Chengming cupped his hands.
Yun Wan nodded gratefully: "Do go and rest, Young Master. Once this matter is settled, this humble one shall surely prepare generous gifts and call upon you to give thanks."
Watching Yun Wan's figure hurry off to muster her forces, Gu Chengming let out a long breath.
But the so-called impermanence of worldly affairs is, more or less, this: just when you think you can pull up a stool and settle in to watch a good show, the stage collapses without the slightest warning, and buries you, the spectator, in the rubble along with it.
Just as Gu Chengming was standing in the shadow of the corridor, watching Yun Wan's hurriedly departing figure, the breath of ease and contentment in his chest only half exhaled—catastrophe erupted like a sudden thunderclap.
"Hummm—"
A buzzing droned out.
The rouge-and-powder fragrance and wine-fumes that had been drifting in the air were torn brutally apart by a rust-like, bloody sweetness, and the once-bright lantern-fire was in an instant stained with an eerie dark red, as though veiled over with a film of dried blood.
Right after, the formation that had originally enveloped this entire pleasure-boat turned, in that very moment, viscous and coldly sinister—like flowing fresh blood, spreading wildly along the grain of the hull, and in but the blink of an eye, wrapping this "Drunken Dream Boat" completely.
Surely things couldn't be this unlucky?
Gu Chengming's mouth fell open, and before he could even react, the formation had already activated.
And then, the world went quiet.
The once-clamorous sound of strings and flutes stopped abruptly, and the laughter of cups raised and exchanged fell utterly silent.
Gu Chengming's heart jolted, and he whipped his head around to look beside him.
He saw several young rakes who had been laughing and horsing around only moments before now frozen in place like figures of clay and carved wood. The smiles had not yet fully faded from their faces, but their eyes had already gone hollow and lightless, as though their three souls and seven spirits had been drained away in an instant.
"Steward Yun?"
Gu Chengming looked toward Yun Wan, not far ahead.
That Harmonious Joy Sect steward who, a moment ago, had been about to go notify the inner-gate Elders, had likewise halted her steps. Her body swayed slightly, and her whole person turned dull and numb.
Gu Chengming felt a chill run down his spine, and instinctively looked toward those positions on the second floor where the two Third-Realm Elders should have been standing guard.
There, too, was deathly silence.
Though he had not seen with his own eyes the fate of those two Harmonious Joy Sect Elders, judging by the situation all around, the enemy had clearly come prepared.
Within the viscous, coldly sinister pressure of the formation, the «Zhouli Heavenly Harmony Righteous Heart Method» held open for him a patch of clarity.
Perhaps thanks to the cultivation method, he had not been restrained.
But this gave him not the slightest cause to feel fortunate, because…
"Tap, tap, tap."
A burst of footsteps rang out, like those of walking corpses. Those controlled guests, handmaids, and guards—even including Yun Wan—now, astonishingly, began to move all at once.
Their movements stiff and their expressions numb, they turned in perfect unison and walked toward one and the same direction.
That direction was precisely the banquet hall where Gu Chengming had only just finished setting out his "grand ritual."
Watching this eerie scene, Gu Chengming felt his scalp go numb.
Mustn't be exposed…
Gu Chengming reacted with extreme speed. Almost the very instant those people set off, he mimicked the manner of those around him, stiffly stepping forward, and blended into that vast, surging "procession."
As he drifted forward along with the current, he observed his surroundings without betraying anything—this formation was indeed exceedingly eerie.
Those cultivators below the Third Realm, though they had lost consciousness, could still move; whereas those cultivators who possessed Third-Realm cultivation had their auras turn, in an instant, exceedingly faint, as though sunk into deep slumber.
The procession passed through the corridor, crossed the deck, and at last poured into that spacious banquet hall.
The banquet hall at this moment was brilliantly lit, already filled with that crowd of walking-corpse-like people.
The crowd surged in like a tide, yet without any sound of collision—only the soft rustle of fabric and the perfectly uniform footsteps.
The bloody reek in the air grew ever thicker, even coagulating in mid-air into a faintly red mist visible to the naked eye.
They did not take their seats; rather, men and women alike, as though on pilgrimage, gathered in a ring at the center of the hall. And directly above that hall, upon the host's seat that had originally belonged to the "Flower Goddesses'" performance—
A cyan-clad figure stood with hands clasped behind his back, his back to the crowd, wearing no mask and making no deliberate effort to conceal his frame.
It was a face that looked rather scholarly and refined, that of a middle-aged man—only at this moment that face was covered with eerie black markings, and within his eyes there were no whites at all, only an expanse of heart-stopping pitch-black.
It was none other than that Third-Realm tribulation cultivator whom Gu Chengming had glimpsed earlier at the stairway, and who had escaped from the Jubo Commerce Guild.
Before him hovered a small black cauldron the size of a palm.
That small cauldron was ceaselessly devouring the blood-qi and soul-force drifting loose in the surrounding air, giving off a "glug, glug" sound, as though gestating some terrifying demonic embryo.
As the small cauldron devoured, those ferocious reliefs carved upon its body seemed to come alive, writhing and roaring without cease. With every "glug" that sounded, the crowd within the hall would shudder in unison, as though their very life-force were being drawn away bit by bit along with that rhythm.
Several of the lower-cultivation handmaids in the front row gave a violent shudder, and wisps of white mist drifted up from the Baihui points atop their heads.
Gu Chengming's heart clenched, and his palm instinctively gripped the sword-hilt hidden within his sleeve.
He could wait no longer—if he let the man begin drawing in soul-force on a large scale, then even if he wanted to keep up the pretense, he wouldn't be able to.
Yet just as Gu Chengming was still weighing whether to burst out and stake everything on a single strike—
The tribulation cultivator's gaze, suddenly and without any warning, came to a halt. His line of sight passed through the layer upon layer of the crowd and fell upon Gu Chengming.
Without a single word of superfluous talk, and without any probing.
The instant the tribulation cultivator laid eyes on Gu Chengming, he actually, without betraying a thing, struck straight out to kill Gu Chengming.
Gu Chengming cursed inwardly, no longer able to spare any thought for his disguise.
A clear, resonant sword-cry rang out as the Wave-Listening Sword left its sheath. At the same time, Light-Splitter and Stone-Render, two second-grade Dharma Swords, likewise came whistling out from his storage pouch. The three swords cried in unison, instantly forming a "sword formation" that barred the way before Gu Chengming.
Clang!!!
An ear-splitting clash of metal rang out.
Gu Chengming felt only an overwhelming, irresistible force transmitting along his sword-bodies; his figure slid backward several zhang, unable to stop, before he barely steadied himself.
His chest churned with surging blood-qi, the tiger's-mouth of his sword-gripping hand had already split open, blood dripping down along the hilt—and his heart was filled with surprise.
In truth, the tribulation cultivator's heart was even more aghast, for from the very first instant Gu Chengming appeared, he had known Gu Chengming was not controlled by the formation.
He had forcibly suppressed the emotions in his heart, kept his face composed, and then suddenly launched his attack.
On the one hand, he had recognized Gu Chengming as the very sword cultivator who had spoiled his good deed at the Commerce Guild last time; on the other, knowing that Gu Chengming was not controlled by the formation, he grew all the more certain of his earlier conjecture.
This cur was a prodigy whose body had been seized by some old monster.
Why had he appeared here? Had he learned of some plan? What was his relationship with the Great Qian?
Thoughts whirled rapidly through his mind, and in the end all the confusion and dread turned into killing intent.
No matter what he was after, an old monster of this sort—one who had seized a body to begin cultivation anew—wielded endless tricks and was the most troublesome of all.
If he did not seize this day, before the man had grown into his strength, to strangle him—then once he let him escape, there would surely be endless retaliation in the days to come, perhaps even ruining the Honored God's grand design!
At this thought, the tribulation cultivator gave Gu Chengming no chance at all to catch his breath. The black cauldron hovering in the air spun abruptly, its mouth aimed straight at Gu Chengming.
"Woo woo woo—"
Countless shrill ghostly wails rang out, and streams of malice, black as ink, gushed forth from the cauldron, transforming into ferocious black dragons that bared fangs and brandished claws as they pounced to kill Gu Chengming.
"Sword formation! Drive!"
Gu Chengming gritted his teeth and barked low, activating the Primordial Imperial Merit amid his frantic parrying—only to discover that the enemy was far stronger than last time.
The tribulation cultivator gave a stern shout, his figure exploding into motion. No longer casting spells from afar, his whole body transformed into an afterimage, hurtling at Gu Chengming to kill.
Black qi roiled all about him, and at some unknown point a long saber of white bone had appeared in his hand, wronged souls coiling along its edge; every slash he swung came accompanied by ghostly wails that stabbed agonizingly at the spirit and soul.
Gu Chengming fought and retreated, running the Three Talents Sword Formation to its utmost. The Flowing Cloud Moon-Following movement art let him dodge and weave within a hair's breadth, and the [Clinging] sword intent, like a malignant ulcer clinging to the bone, sought to slow the enemy's onslaught.
But the gulf between their realms was simply too vast.
Every slash of the enemy's was mighty and heavy, carrying a sinister, venomous force that corroded spiritual power.
Though Gu Chengming barely held on by relying on the sword formation, in the span of mere dozens of breaths he was already beset by peril on every side, the Night-Patrol Guard brocade on his body slashed open in several gashes, blood staining his lapels red.
"Damn it! Is this Capital's dragon energy dead?!"
Gu Chengming cursed inwardly even as he parried, in sorry straits, that lethal slash.
Wasn't it said that the Great Qian Capital's dragon energy was so abundant that no evil could invade it? Wasn't it said that if any evil dared employ power above the Third Realm within the Capital, the dragon energy would instantly be drawn down to suppress it?
Now this tribulation cultivator was right here setting up his altar and working his rites, embarking on a killing spree—so where on earth was that legendary dragon energy?
That cold, sinister aura invaded his meridians along the path of the sword intent. Gu Chengming clenched his teeth, the true essence within his body already running to its utmost, yet it still seemed on the verge of collapse beneath that overwhelming, mountain-toppling, sea-overturning offensive.
The tribulation cultivator's offensive grew fiercer and fiercer; on the blade-body of the Stone-Render sword a faint hairline crack had already appeared.
Just at this hair's-breadth instant of crisis.
That "dragon-shaped qi seed" deep within Gu Chengming's dantian—the one that had unexpectedly condensed through the resonance of the «Zhouli» when he broke through to the Second Realm—suddenly seemed to sense something.
At the same moment, in the Great Qian's Imperial City, the Taiji Hall.
The dragon energy that had originally coiled above the imperial palace—visible only to aura-reading adepts—came pouring down toward the direction of the Qinhuai River.
The dragon energy of the entire Capital was, in this instant, utterly stirred into motion, heaven and earth resonating as one.
—How is this possible?!
On the Drunken Dream Boat, that tribulation cultivator's face changed drastically.
He had suppressed his true Fourth-Realm strength down to the Third Realm, and had even borrowed the concealment of that demonic cauldron, all to evade the perception of the Great Qian's dragon energy.
So by what means—by what means could this Great Qian dragon energy detect him?
"Crack! Crack!"
That Myriad Spirits Blood-Sacrifice Grand Formation enveloping the Drunken Dream Boat—the one claimed to be able to block all detection—began gradually to melt and crumble.
Patrolling the Dao on Heaven's behalf, borrowing the dragon to slay evil!
Once he reacted, the tribulation cultivator—who knows what came to his mind—wore an expression that grew yet more aghast:
"You're a fucking body-seizure by the Great Qian imperial ancestor!!"
Before he could even puzzle out the crux of it, an aura even more despair-inducing than the dragon energy of a moment ago came sweeping horizontally from the direction of the Capital.
It was a saber intent pure to the very extreme; wherever it passed, all sound fell utterly still.
Merely the backwash of that aura made this enormous Drunken Dream Boat groan as though under an unbearable load, as if the very next second it would break apart.
The tribulation cultivator's pupils instantly shrank to pinpoints; he knew this aura all too well.
The Great Qian Night-Watch Bureau's Director, Zhou Qingmu.
Without any hesitation, without any wishful thinking, the instant this aura appeared the tribulation cultivator knew the mission had utterly failed.
Forget refining the demonic cauldron—half a breath later, and his very life would be left behind here!
The tribulation cultivator no longer cared about that so-called dragon-energy suppression; an aura belonging to a Fourth-Realm cultivator vented forth without the slightest reservation.
He suddenly bit through the tip of his tongue, fusing his essence-blood into the demonic cauldron in his hand.
—Essence reversed in its turning, reflecting back to the Hollow Mulberry.
As a violent roar issued forth, the space behind him was actually torn forcibly open into a pitch-black rent.
Heedless of the slicing of that spatial turbulence, his whole person transformed into a streak of blood-light, about to bore into that void-fissure—and yet.
Just at the instant half his body had reached into the fissure.
Between heaven and earth, light bloomed.
Not lantern-fire, not moonlight, but a stroke of saber-light that slashed in from the distant horizon, yet seemed as near as right before one's eyes.
"Clang—"
No earth-shaking roar, only a single crisp, melodious saber-hum.
Gu Chengming instinctively raised his head and beheld a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life.
The originally ink-black night sky was like a sheet of xuan paper sliced open by a sharp blade, split cleanly into two halves down the middle.
Wherever the saber-light passed, the black night drew back and broad daylight descended.
That was… [Severing Night].
"Squelch."
A soft sound.
Just like slicing open a block of tofu.
Right after, that suffocating Fourth-Realm pressure instantly vanished like smoke into thin air.
The rift in the sky slowly knitted closed, and the radiance that had cleaved the black night into broad day gradually withdrew.
Upon the Qinhuai River, tranquility was restored once more.
That small black cauldron, having lost its master's support, shattered with a "crack" into countless grains of powder that scattered away on the wind.
Gu Chengming stood where he was, watching the gradually calming night sky, his sword-gripping hand trembling faintly, sweat having long since soaked through the back of his robe.
[Hundred Bones Resonance cheers: Heavenly Emperor Gu, mighty and majestic!]
Mighty and majestic my arse—anyone who didn't know better would think that slash was mine.
Still, watching the way Hundred Bones Resonance carried on, Gu Chengming's mood lifted considerably, and at last he let out a breath as if relieved of a great burden.
Though he'd won by lying down, it wasn't quite so much a lie-down win.
At least it was a touch better than Elder Yu.
Thinking of Yu Wenqiu, who at this very moment might be trapped by the formation somewhere on the boat, sleeping away to her heart's content, Gu Chengming felt a bit of a toothache.
He sighed, and answered Hundred Bones Resonance: "To this sovereign, it was but a touch of wind and frost."
Hearing words come out of his own mouth utterly different in meaning from what he had meant to express, he only then remembered that he was, at this moment, in his Sovereign state.
—Once this is all over, I'm taking some leave.
Gu Chengming looked up at the heavens, at a loss for words.
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