Chapter 1117: Who Won?
The broken stones were blown by the wind, rolling across the ground with a rumbling sound, mingling with the wind cut by swords in the sky, making it all the more mournful.
Maple Forest Pavilion was very quiet. Tang Thirty-Six and Xu Yourong watched Shang Xingzhou and Chen Changsheng, saying nothing.
Only Wang Zhice's voice drifted in the wind.
This battle, which would change the course of history, had finally reached its conclusion.
But what exactly had happened in that moment just now?
Now Shang Xingzhou had Chen Changsheng by the throat, holding the decisive position over life and death, yet Wang Zhice said he had lost?
Shang Xingzhou looked at Chen Changsheng and suddenly asked, "When did you learn it?"
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In the Hundred Herbs Garden, Yu Ren stood by the stone table, looking at the courtyard wall, saying nothing.
Above the clouds, Zhi Zhi looked down at the garden below, also saying nothing.
The world was vast, and there were many people, but only they understood what Shang Xingzhou meant.
Before the final battle began, Shang Xingzhou had spoken a single word—simple yet infinitely complex, extremely difficult to comprehend.
That word contained a wealth of information.
It was Dragon Speech.
The content of that word was an exceedingly ancient Daoist art.
This art was recorded in a volume of Daoist scriptures.
Many years ago, by the stream beside the old temple in Xining Town, Chen Changsheng and Yu Ren had also looked at that volume of Daoist scriptures.
The characters in that volume were unfamiliar; they did not recognize them.
They went to ask their master.
Their master told them that this was the final volume of the Three Thousand Daoist Canon, one thousand six hundred and one characters, within which the ultimate meaning of heaven was hidden, and no one had ever been able to fully comprehend its meaning.
Only today did Chen Changsheng confirm that what his master had said back then was not true, or at least had been held back.
Shang Xingzhou had clearly studied that volume of scriptures and had learned a great deal from it.
That ancient Daoist art, carrying a sense of age and vicissitude, allowed him to unleash abilities beyond his realm, successfully breaking the Southern Streams Nunnery Sword Formation and reaching Chen Changsheng.
If nothing unexpected happened, he would have won this battle between master and disciple.
But at that moment, Chen Changsheng also spoke a single word.
That word was equally complex, difficult to understand, containing what seemed like endless information.
It was also Dragon Speech.
It was also an extremely ancient Daoist art.
Two dragon roars harmonized.
Two auras reflected each other.
Two Daoist arts canceled each other out.
A rain of swords fell from the sky.
If Shang Xingzhou had still suppressed his realm, he would have certainly lost, and might even have died.
So at that final moment, he lifted the suppression on his realm and used power beyond the Sacred Domain.
A thousand swords cut through his Daoist robe, but also released a radiance of ten thousand feet.
Dew meeting sunlight, beauty turning to smoke, even a snowfield would melt.
Chen Changsheng's talent, brilliance, and Daoist arts were directly crushed by a power of a higher level.
Shang Xingzhou's hand seized his throat.
But he did not seize the throat of fate.
He had used the power of the Sacred Domain.
So he had lost.
The true turning point of this battle was when Chen Changsheng spoke that word.
Shang Xingzhou wanted to know how this had come about.
"The year I first arrived in the capital."
Chen Changsheng turned his gaze toward the courtyard wall, a look of recollection on his face.
That was the Hundred Herbs Garden, and further beyond was the Imperial City.
"One night, Mo Yu tricked me into the Tong Palace. I only later learned that it was actually the intention of my junior master."
That night was the Ivy Banquet. The name Chen Changsheng spread across the continent for the first time. Only a very few knew that before the banquet began, Mo Yu had imprisoned him in the Tong Palace, where he encountered the legendary Frost Giant Dragon, nearly being killed and eaten, but in the end, he gained a great deal.
That was the first true life-or-death trial Chen Changsheng faced after arriving in the capital. In the years that followed, he would often think back to what happened that night—like his impassioned speech to the little black dragon—the more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he felt. Occasionally, he would also wonder why the Pope had arranged for Mo Yu to do this back then.
Besides making the little black dragon the protector of the next Pope, was there some deeper meaning?
Chen Changsheng couldn't figure it out, so he stopped thinking about it.
Flowers floated on the stream.
He walked along the stream.
Not of his own volition, he began to learn Dragon Speech.
This process was not smooth; compared to the delicacies he bought in the various streets and alleys of the capital, it could even be called difficult.
But as time passed, occasionally when he recalled the volume of scriptures he had memorized in the old temple in Xining Town, he suddenly found that he vaguely understood something.
During the three years in the Snow Ridge, every night, he continued to learn Dragon Speech from the little black dragon, and then recalled that volume of scriptures.
It was really hard, whether it was Dragon Speech or that volume of scriptures.
In the end, he still hadn't learned much, whether it was Dragon Speech or that volume of scriptures.
But it was enough for him to counter that Daoist art, catching Shang Xingzhou completely off guard.
It was at the moment he spoke that word that Chen Changsheng finally understood why the Pope had made that arrangement back then.
The Pope wanted him to gain the little black dragon's help, and also wanted him to learn Dragon Speech.
The Pope hoped he could comprehend the final volume of the Three Thousand Daoist Canon, and was also reminding him that Shang Xingzhou had likely understood certain ancient Daoist arts from this volume.
Why the reminder? This was also a warning.
Clearly, long ago, the Pope had already foreseen that master and disciple would turn against each other due to ideological differences.
Understanding all this, Chen Changsheng said these words to Shang Xingzhou.
"You were right to say that I was indeed raised by you. But I was not brought up by you, because you never took care of me, never managed me, and never taught me anything. I was brought up by my senior brother; he taught me many things. Senior Su Li also taught me many things, and my junior master as well. What they taught me far exceeds what you have given me."
Shang Xingzhou looked at Chen Changsheng and said nothing.
He had lost.
He had lost to this disciple he disliked the most, and also to that other disciple he liked the most, who was on the other side of the wall.
He had lost to his junior brother, whom he had once despised the most.
What should he do now?
Let go, and leave, like an old dog slinking away, or...
Shang Xingzhou closed his eyes.
This was very sudden.
Whether it was Wang Zhice, Tang Thirty-Six, or Xu Yourong, they were all somewhat surprised.
Only Chen Changsheng remained calm, as if he had long anticipated this scene.
Shang Xingzhou closed his eyes, but did not let go.
His hand rested on Chen Changsheng's throat, very steady.
Like a tough pine tree, or like a hard iron shackle.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes.
In the depths of his serene pupils, it seemed as if a bloody hue was spreading, meeting the black pupils and turning brown.
That was the resin oozing from the cracks of an old pine.
That was the rust on the surface of an iron shackle.
He looked at Chen Changsheng, his gaze calm and resolute.
Killing intent, completely undisguised.
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"Pay up when you lose."
Wang Zhice shouted.
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The crutch was placed on the stone table.
Yu Ren was no longer there.
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Pure white wings traced two trails of fire.
Xu Yourong vanished from where she stood.
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Wind surged and clouds gathered.
The mountain-like body of the Frost Giant Dragon pressed down toward the National Academy.
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Tang Thirty-Six made a deep bow to Shang Xingzhou and said earnestly, "Why must it come to this?"
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Chen Changsheng said nothing.
He looked at Shang Xingzhou, his gaze equally calm, even more resolute.