Chapter 1011: A Graceful Refusal
“Wait a moment.”
Zhang Ruochen called out, catching up and appearing before Ling Feiyu. After a moment of consideration, he smiled and said, “This time, I’ve done you a considerable favor. Could you perhaps do me one in return?”
Ling Feiyu stood straight, her body’s aura as sharp as a sword drawn from its sheath. She replied succinctly, “Speak.”
Zhang Ruochen then made a request, hoping that Ling Feiyu would look after Mu Lingxi upon returning to the Moon Worship Demon Sect.
Mu Lingxi’s situation was dire. If Zhang Ruochen could leverage any connections, he naturally wanted to help her.
Ling Feiyu was not only the Palace Master of the Saint Maiden Palace but also one of the top-tier experts of the Demon Sect. With her intervention, no one in the sect should dare to trouble Mu Lingxi.
Ling Feiyu’s clear, black-and-white eyes gave Zhang Ruochen a deep glance, revealing a meaningful expression. “Taken a liking to the little saint of the Saint Maiden Palace? I didn’t realize you were such a sentimental person.”
Zhang Ruochen merely smiled faintly, offering no further explanation.
Whether sentimental or heartless, as long as his conscience was clear, that was enough.
“You killed two saints of the Divine Sect, and you will surely become a public enemy of the entire sect.”
Before Zhang Ruochen could respond, Ling Feiyu continued, “They brought it upon themselves and deserved death. I will report this matter to the Sect Leader. Additionally, you took Ouyang Huan’s Realm Son Seal. Have you considered returning it to him?”
“Why would I willingly return something I’ve taken?” Zhang Ruochen said.
Ling Feiyu nodded. “Ouyang Huan is the Divine Son of the Moon Worship Divine Sect, backed by a vast power. Even if the Sect Leader doesn’t hold you accountable, Ouyang Huan and the experts behind him will surely see you as an enemy. Given your current cultivation, you’ll be in great danger. As a token of gratitude, I can point you toward a clear path.”
“What clear path?” Zhang Ruochen asked.
Ling Feiyu said, “Come back with me to the Moon Worship Divine Sect. I will do everything in my power to support you in seizing Ouyang Huan’s position as Divine Son. Once you become the Divine Son, you can choose a saint from the Saint Maiden Palace as your Dao companion. For instance, that little saint, Mu Lingxi.”
Hearing this, Zhang Ruochen merely shook his head with a smile, gracefully declining Ling Feiyu’s invitation.
Ling Feiyu said, “Are you doubting my ability to contend with the forces behind Ouyang Huan? You should know that I am not only the Palace Master of the Saint Maiden Palace but also the current head of the Ling Clan. With the Ling Clan’s influence, should that be enough?”
“The Ling Clan, as descendants of the Demon Emperor, naturally hold an extraordinary status. However… I truly have no interest in the position of Divine Son of the Moon Worship Demon Sect,” Zhang Ruochen said.
“Very well. Since you’ve made your decision, I won’t force you.”
With a “whoosh,” Ling Feiyu transformed into a sword-shaped streak of light, shooting into the sky, and vanished without a trace in an instant.
Chu Siyuan rolled up the “Seven Lives Seven Deaths Diagram,” looking quite displeased, and snorted coldly, “I helped her with such a big favor, yet she didn’t even say a word of thanks. A generation’s Sword Saint, the granddaughter of the Demon Emperor, and still so lacking in manners?”
Luo Xu laughed. “Someone like Palace Master Ling doesn’t voice her thanks; she repays kindness through actions.”
“You seem to have great confidence in her.”
Chu Siyuan snorted again. “Now that Ling Feiyu has returned to her peak, she will surely seek out Lin Suxian for revenge and reclaim what belongs to her. Aren’t you the least bit worried?”
“This grudge must eventually come to an end. Since Palace Master Ling has recovered, I should indeed go there,” Luo Xu said.
Before leaving, Luo Xu looked toward Zhang Ruochen and asked, “Zhang Ruochen, what are your plans next?”
“I should be heading to Saint Ming City,” Zhang Ruochen said.
“Heh heh.”
Chu Siyuan chuckled. “What a coincidence. I happen to be going to Saint Ming City as well to visit an old friend. How about we travel together?”
“That’s inconvenient,” Zhang Ruochen said.
Zhang Ruochen’s trip to Saint Ming City was primarily to sweep the tomb of his mother at the Imperial Mausoleum and also to meet Kong Lanyou. Naturally, he couldn’t travel with Chu Siyuan.
Chu Siyuan’s old face darkened, and he flicked his sleeve in annoyance, feeling a bit humiliated.
As the esteemed leader of the Painting Sect, he had personally invited a junior to travel with him. Shouldn’t that junior be flattered?
Instead, he had been rejected by that junior.
“Inconvenient or not, I insist on traveling with you.” Chu Siyuan’s face was cold, his tone stubborn.
Zhang Ruochen found it headache-inducing, feeling that Chu Siyuan was not only an old stick-in-the-mud but also thick-skinned. He said earnestly, “Senior Chu, you are the leader of the Painting Sect, and I am a wanted criminal of the imperial court. Traveling with me, aren’t you afraid of outside criticism?”
The title “Senior Chu” still pleased Chu Siyuan, who felt that Zhang Ruochen was finally showing some respect. He said lightly, “Zhang Ruochen, if you won’t let me travel with you, is it because you’re going to Saint Ming City to do something unspeakable?”
Chu Siyuan was an old monster who had lived for centuries, highly alert. He quickly sensed something amiss and grew suspicious.
Luo Xu said, “Zhang Ruochen, you carry many treasures that would tempt saints. There are surely some greedy individuals watching you in secret. Traveling with Brother Chu to Saint Ming City would provide you with some protection.”
At the same time, Luo Xu secretly transmitted a message to Zhang Ruochen, urging him to seize this opportunity to learn from Chu Siyuan.
After a moment of thought, Zhang Ruochen finally agreed.
If he continued to refuse, it would certainly arouse Chu Siyuan’s suspicion, and the old man might secretly follow him anyway.
That would only cause Zhang Ruochen more trouble.
Luo Xu and Luo Shuihan departed. Zhang Ruochen and Chu Siyuan boarded the green wooden boat, drifting downstream along the ancient river toward Saint Ming City.
Behind them, on the riverbank.
At a slightly elevated spot, three figures stood, gazing at the receding green wooden boat.
They were Kong Hongbi, Guigu Saint General, and an elderly saint-level figure from the Bright Hall.
Guigu Saint General said, “Luo Xu has left, but Painting Saint Chu Siyuan remains on the boat. That old man’s cultivation is unfathomable; a single painting can annihilate a hundred-thousand-strong army of the Undying Blood Clan. It won’t be easy to make a move.”
Kong Hongbi crossed his arms over his chest and said, “Where are they headed?”
“Downstream along the Tongming River. They’re likely heading to Saint Ming City,” the elderly saint-level expert speculated.
Kong Hongbi revealed a cold, sharp expression. “Going to Saint Ming City? Zhang Ruochen is walking right into a trap.”
Guigu Saint General also laughed. “Our Bright Hall has developed in Saint Ming City for countless years, with a vast and deeply rooted power. Once he’s in Saint Ming City, even the Painting Saint won’t be able to protect him.”
Kong Hongbi said, “The Painting Saint has no real connection to Zhang Ruochen. He’s likely only escorting him out of respect for Luo Xu. Once they reach Saint Ming City, the Painting Saint will surely stop interfering. That’s when we strike.”
The three figures retreated and soon disappeared into the forest, preparing to return to Saint Ming City ahead of time to set their plans.
The ancient river was called the Daming River, originating in the desolate wilds, flowing through three prefectures of the Central Domain, and nurturing many ancient civilizations.
The river’s flow was sometimes as calm as a lake, sometimes as turbulent as a waterfall.
Zhang Ruochen stood at the bow, practicing his sword techniques, striving to fully integrate the insights he had gained from the “Seven Lives Seven Deaths Diagram.”
“Sword Four.”
Zhang Ruochen formed a hand seal with an ancient sword, thrusting forward. A brilliant sword light transformed into a white thread, flying ahead.
“Boom.”
A hundred miles away, on the right bank of the ancient river, a black cliff over a thousand meters high let out a thunderous roar.
At the cliff’s waist, a massive hole appeared, dozens of meters in diameter, piercing straight through the entire mountain.
Zhang Ruochen sheathed the Abyssal Ancient Sword, glanced toward the peak, and smiled with satisfaction, muttering to himself, “Using Sword Four to condense sword energy, the penetrating power is three to four times stronger than Sword Three.”
Zhang Ruochen continued his practice, not only refining Sword Four but also the Nine Lives Sword Technique and the True One Thunder Fire Sword Technique.
Both of these sword techniques were at the sacred art level and had reached great mastery. Now, only practice and refinement were needed to master them fully.
Chu Siyuan sat in the cabin, sipping tea while watching Zhang Ruochen, feeling quite astonished.
Other half-saints would be impressive if they could master a single sacred art to great mastery.
Yet Zhang Ruochen, at the Fourth-Step Half-Saint level, had already mastered two sacred art-level sword techniques.
And that didn’t even include the Luo Water Fist Art or Sword Four from the “Wordless Sword Manual.”
“This kid’s talent is astonishing. If I can steer him onto the right path, he could become a top-tier expert in the future fight against the Undying Blood Clan and the undead of the Underworld.”
Chu Siyuan had always felt that Zhang Ruochen wasn’t entirely upright, but neither was he an evil person.
With proper guidance and discipline, he could be led onto the right path and become a pillar of talent.
“As the saying goes, ‘Near vermilion, one becomes red; near ink, one becomes black.’ When we reach Saint Ming City, I must introduce him to some outstanding peers of his generation. Through mutual acquaintance and the influence of the environment, he should come to his senses,” Chu Siyuan thought to himself.
Over the next few days, Zhang Ruochen tirelessly practiced his fist and sword techniques. At night, he refined divine blood to enhance his cultivation.
Finally, the green wooden boat drew closer to Saint Ming City, and the number of vessels on the river increased.
Some of these ships were enormous and lavishly decorated, with handsome men and beautiful women reciting poetry and practicing swordplay aboard, brightly lit. They clearly hailed from saintly clans or medieval aristocratic families.
Saint Ming City, once the imperial capital of the Saint Ming Central Empire, was not only a convergence point of spiritual veins but also the birthplace of many ancient families.
Even though the Saint Ming Central Empire had fallen, these ancient families had not declined.
“Zhang Ruochen, I have a spiritual power sacred artifact I can lend you.”
Chu Siyuan emerged from the cabin, taking out a golden metal mask and handing it to Zhang Ruochen.
Zhang Ruochen showed a suspicious expression. “What kind of spiritual power sacred artifact is this?”
Chu Siyuan’s forehead darkened with lines, and he said sternly, “You are a heavily wanted criminal of the imperial court. With your current appearance, you’d be captured before you even set foot in Saint Ming City.”
“This Illusion Gold Mask of mine can not only conceal your aura but also blur your figure and features. Even a spiritual power saint would find it hard to see through your true form.”
Zhang Ruochen grumbled inwardly, “If it weren’t for you, old man, insisting on traveling together, I would have already transformed into Gu Linfeng’s appearance and entered Saint Ming City openly.”
In the end, Zhang Ruochen still took the Illusion Gold Mask and put it on, covering most of his face and exuding a mysterious aura. (To be continued.)