Chapter 192: The Staff-Bearer of the State Religion
White Emperor City had been snowing for half a night and an entire day, turning every alley and lane into a blanket of white. The figures standing motionless outside the courtyard had long since become snowmen themselves, though wisps of steam occasionally puffed from their frost-covered mouths and noses, creating a somewhat eerie scene.
Countless gazes fell upon that courtyard, all wanting to know what the Demon Lord and Chen Changsheng were discussing. If they couldn't reach an agreement, when would the fighting begin?
Luoluo stood by the window, quietly watching the wind and snow. She didn't know what was being discussed in that courtyard, but she knew her teacher would never agree to anything the other party proposed.
Madam Mu was also watching that small courtyard through the snowstorm, sharing the same view as Luoluo. So she was waiting to see who would make the first move.
The courtyard gate was tightly shut, with no sound coming from within—only the pattering of wind-driven snow against the stone walls.
The ground was covered in yellow sand topped with white snow, as if it had become the snowy plains outside Snow Old City.
The single tree bore a heavy load of snow on its branches, like countless white pillars.
Chen Changsheng and the Demon Lord sat quietly in the wind and snow.
A moment ago, they had been speaking candidly, discussing cooperation and possible friendship, even saying that if they both managed to leave Snow Old City alive, they should keep in touch.
The next moment, the situation had turned extremely dangerous, as if either could strike at any moment, using their most powerful means to reap the other's life.
This shift was so sudden that anyone who wasn't directly involved would find it utterly absurd—but no one was watching.
Chen Changsheng and the Demon Lord didn't find this shift absurd at all, because from the beginning until now, from the observation platform to this place, they had always wanted to kill each other.
Whether it was negotiation or conversation, it was all just trivial matters surrounding the main goal of killing each other.
And they both had the ability to do so.
On the observation platform, after Chen Changsheng used the Nanxi Zhai sword formation to break the Demon Lord's technique, he hadn't continued attacking—because Madam Mu had summoned the city's flowing clouds to stop him, and also because he had vaguely sensed danger. The Demon Lord's sleeve likely concealed some means that could kill him, though he didn't know exactly what it was.
The Demon Lord knew more about Chen Changsheng's cultivation level, strength, and methods, but he also lacked confidence—especially after those five carriages arrived outside the courtyard.
He looked into Chen Changsheng's eyes and said, "Shang Xingzhou can't come, and Wang Po can't come either. So who is it that came today?"
Chen Changsheng replied, "In that case, the Black Robe and the Demon Marshal can't come either. Even if the Eight Mountain Lords were still alive, they probably couldn't make it."
On the observation platform, they had already discussed this issue.
Now they were bringing up these words again because they had decided to give up, yet felt some reluctance, so they wanted to make one final confirmation.
After saying these two sentences, Chen Changsheng and the Demon Lord fell silent for a long time again, then sighed simultaneously.
Those two sighs, representing their abandonment of the plan, were filled with regret.
Today's wind and snow were exceptionally fierce—the opportunity was too good.
The Demon Lord was far from Snow Old City, and the Pope was in a foreign land. Such a situation was extremely rare and might never occur again.
If they couldn't kill each other today, how could they not be disappointed?
"Thinking carefully, killing you really doesn't bring me much benefit. The human race would become more united and more enraged."
The Demon Lord looked at Chen Changsheng and said with emotion, "From this perspective, your existence really is quite meaningless."
Chen Changsheng's lips curled slightly, revealing a smile as warm as a spring breeze, and said, "I'm used to it."
From the moment he was born, his existence had been a conspiracy—a conspiracy aimed at Heavenly Sea Holy Maiden.
His existence had never had any meaning of its own. In other words, he shouldn't have appeared in this world at all.
But now he was searching for meaning, and it could be said that he had already found it.
The Demon Lord tilted his head slightly, looking at the smile on his face, confirming that there was no trace of forced cheerfulness, and raised an eyebrow. "You really are a monster."
Chen Changsheng had received many evaluations over the years, most of them positive: fresh, clean, steadfast, gifted.
Even his enemies would at most call him somewhat dull or overly stubborn, or question his lack of wisdom in handling his relationship with Shang Xingzhou.
But being called a monster—this was truly the first time.
Chen Changsheng wasn't angry. Instead, he found the Demon Lord's view quite interesting, or rather, somewhat close to what he himself believed to be true.
As the saying goes, the person who knows you best isn't necessarily your friend, but your enemy.
Then perhaps the Demon Lord was his true adversary.
Thinking about these things, he picked up the cup of tea before him, which was nearly frozen solid, and poured it onto the snowy ground in front of him.
This was a libation—for those who had died under the Demon race's wolf cavalry.
He was the guest, so it was fitting for him to take the initiative to leave.
He stood up, brushed the snow dust off his clothes, nodded to the Demon Lord, and turned to walk out of the courtyard.
Watching his retreating figure, the Demon Lord suddenly said, "White Emperor will surely be very disappointed."
Chen Changsheng stopped walking and asked, "Why not Madam Mu?"
The Demon Lord said, "Since you're unwilling to cooperate with me, then Madam Mu is my most steadfast supporter."
Chen Changsheng was silent for a moment, then asked, "What exactly does Madam Mu want?"
"The Great Western Continent's royal family has always prided itself on its orthodoxy, and her lineage even has Xiuling blood. Do you think she would like the human race?"
The Demon Lord said with emotion, "And besides, she's an Aquarius—who knows what she's really thinking?"
Chen Changsheng knew that the Demon Lord was referring to the zodiac signs popular in Snow Old City, but he had no idea what Aquarius meant.
He shook his head in confusion and continued walking toward the courtyard exit.
The Demon Lord's hand slowly caressed the two cold stone statues inside his sleeve, a look of disgust appearing between his brows.
Then he looked at the straight footprints on the snow, as if measured with a ruler, and muttered to himself, "He actually moved the entire Li Palace here. He really is afraid of death."
...
...
With a creaking sound and a few snowflakes falling, Chen Changsheng pushed open the courtyard gate and walked out.
This sound and scene quickly spread throughout all of White Emperor City.
Most people felt greatly relieved, a few felt very disappointed, and there were also emotions like shock and confusion.
People began to descend from the five carriages.
The Hall of Folding Thrust's master, Daoist Priest Siyuan.
The Holy Mandate Archbishop Anlin.
The Hall of Heavenly Judgment's master, Linghai Zhiwang.
The newly appointed Archbishop of the Hall of Proclaiming Literature, Hu Sanshier.
The five great figures of the State Religion—except for Mao Qiuyu, who remained behind at the Li Palace—had all rushed to White Emperor City, thousands of miles away, each carrying precious treasures.
Chen Changsheng first bowed very respectfully to the blind zither player, then spoke with Linghai Zhiwang and the others.
The green curtain was lifted slightly, shaking off accumulated snow, and a graceful young gentleman stepped down from the last carriage—it was Tang Thirty-Six.
In his right hand, he held an unremarkable-looking short staff.
Chen Changsheng was about to say something to him when Tang Thirty-Six directly tossed the short staff over.
Seeing this scene, Linghai Zhiwang's face turned extremely ugly, and Anlin couldn't help but let out a soft gasp.
That unremarkable short staff was the State Religion's Divine Staff.
If Chen Changsheng hadn't reacted quickly, it would have fallen into the snow—and what if it got damaged?
Tang Thirty-Six acted as if he hadn't seen the looks from Linghai Zhiwang and the others, saying irritably, "Don't make me do this kind of thing anymore."
To break the Red River prohibition, the Divine Staff's light power had been completely depleted. These past days, it had been receiving offerings at the Western Wilderness Dao Hall.
Today, Chen Changsheng was meeting with the Demon Lord and needed to be fully prepared. The only person he trusted and who was qualified to hold the staff was Tang Thirty-Six.
Even Linghai Zhiwang and the others, no matter how much they disliked Tang Thirty-Six, couldn't deny this.
Because Tang Thirty-Six had done this kind of thing before.
Back then, the person who received the Divine Staff from the Pope's hands wasn't Chen Changsheng—it was him.