Chapter 394: A Cool Day for Wang Po (Part 2)
Decades ago, in Tianliang County, a young man emerged. His name was Wang Po.
From the day he appeared, the era of wildflowers blooming in the cultivation world officially began. He was a genius in Dao cultivation and a prodigy in combat. Whether in terms of cultivation talent or battle prowess, among his contemporaries, he was always the strongest. After Zhou Dufu, he was the only unquestionable strongest who surpassed the boundaries of his era. From the Azure Cloud Ranking to the Golden Touch Ranking, and then to the Carefree Ranking, he always topped the lists, even more illustrious than the current Qiu Shan Jun and Xu Yourong. Neither Xue Xue Xun Mei, who once claimed first place in the Grand Court Examination, nor Liang Wangsun, whose family heritage had accumulated over a millennium and burst forth in a single moment, could ever hope to catch up to him. Xun Mei, because of him, had toiled bitterly in the Heavenly Book Mausoleum for over thirty years without finding a way out. Xiao Zhang, known for his arrogance and madness as "Painting Armor," nearly went insane and became a waste in his desperate attempt to surpass him.
Now, Wang Po had cultivated to the peak of the Star Gathering Realm, second only to the five saints and the eight winds and rains. Apart from Su Li, a wandering unparalleled powerhouse, or Han Qing, a legendary figure of a previous generation, no one was stronger than him. And let us not forget, he had only formally begun his cultivation a few decades ago. The human world believed he was destined to enter the Saintly Realm, becoming the next saint or succeeding one of the eight winds and rains, and might even go further, entering the legendary Divine Concealment Realm!
The streets fell into utter silence.
People stared at the middle-aged man in green robes standing amidst the ruins of the inn, not daring to make a sound. At one end of the street, Liang Hongzhuang's expression was extraordinarily complex. Thinking of events from many years ago, an unhealthy flush crept across his face, which was so delicate it didn't seem like a man's. His mind was clearly in turmoil. At the other end of the street, Xue He, the divine general, looked at the blade casually held in Wang Po's hand, recalling what Su Li had said to him a few days ago, and felt an overwhelming sense of defeat.
Back then, Xue He had asked Su Li why everyone believed he could never catch up to Wang Po. Su Li told him that whether it was the blade or the man, he was too far behind Wang Po. When Xue He pressed for the reason, Su Li said it was because he needed seven blades, while Wang Po only needed one. This exchange gave Xue He a glimmer of understanding, thinking he had grasped something. But it wasn't until that moment, watching Wang Po's blade send Xiao Zhang flying twice, shattering walls and collapsing courtyards in Xunyang City, that he realized Su Li's answer had been a dismissal.
His inferiority to Wang Po had nothing to do with the number of blades. Even if Wang Po were willing to use three hundred and sixty-five blades, swapping one each day, Xue He would still be no match for him. The gap between them was too vast—it had nothing to do with perseverance or will, only talent. This realization was both despairing and heartbreaking.
Wang Po's appearance brought immense spiritual shock to Liang Hongzhuang and Xue He, who were preparing to leave, and even greater pressure to the entire Xunyang City, especially those who wanted to kill Su Li, plunging everything into silence. Only Chen Changsheng, amidst his shock, felt an indescribable warmth.
Yes, not ecstasy, but warmth.
Ecstasy often comes from surprise, from the unexpected. Warmth is calmer, deeper, more enduring—a comfort that comes from the perfect alignment of hopes and reality. Chen Changsheng didn't know why Wang Po had appeared in Xunyang City, but he was grateful for it—grateful on behalf of Su Li, on behalf of himself, and on behalf of those naive, childish ideals.
Just then, Wang Po's body swayed slightly, and he began to cough.
He coughed up blood, each mouthful carrying his spirit and vitality.
Everyone could see that with every cough, he grew more weary and haggard. Even for Wang Po, facing opponents of Xiao Zhang and Liang Wangsun's caliber, especially fighting one against two, victory was far from certain. To drive them back with a single strike, he had resorted to the harshest measures, suffering wounds he shouldn't have had to bear.
A gentle breeze stirred the ruins of the inn. The white paper on Xiao Zhang's face rustled loudly, but the confusion in his eyes refused to dissipate. Liang Wangsun's expression was more serious than ever, also filled with profound shock and bewilderment. During the battle, both Xiao Zhang and Liang Wangsun had cried out in alarm—they thought Wang Po had gone mad.
All three were on the Carefree Ranking and had sparred frequently since youth. They knew Wang Po well—his temperament, his realm, his allegiances, his likes and dislikes, his style of conduct. They knew that although Wang Po was now half-master of the Huai Academy, he never considered himself a Southerner. Moreover, Wang Po couldn't possibly have any fondness for Lishan. Most crucially, Wang Po didn't like Su Li—Su Li was too carefree, like drifting clouds, while Wang Po was too disciplined, like a ledger read over and over. So why would he save Su Li?
All were peak Star Gathering Realm experts, and they clearly understood Wang Po's level of cultivation. Of course, Wang Po was outrageously strong, but there was no way he could so effortlessly defeat their combined forces, even inflicting injuries that wouldn't heal quickly. The only possibility was that Wang Po had used his most forceful methods, at the cost of severe wounds to himself.
Xiao Zhang and Liang Wangsun were now badly injured, unable to continue fighting. Wang Po seemed to still have strength left, but in truth, he had paid a greater price, one that might even affect his future cultivation path. Why? Why was he so resolute and ruthless, willing to pay any price? Why would he sacrifice so much for a Southerner?
"Why are you saving him?" The white paper was dotted with bloodstains like plum blossoms, making Xiao Zhang's eyes seem even more bloodthirsty and terrifying. He stared intently at Wang Po, feeling the rampant true essence in his meridians, and shouted hoarsely, both angry and confused.
Wang Po looked tired. The ends of his eyebrows drooped further, making him seem even more shabby. Paired with his slightly faded green robe, he truly looked like an ordinary innkeeper. He countered Xiao Zhang: "Why do you want to kill him?"
Xiao Zhang didn't hesitate, speaking with righteous indignation, even grandly: "Because I don't like him."
Wang Po was silent for a moment, then ignored the madman and turned to Liang Wangsun.
Liang Wangsun's face was pale, his eyes shifting from dim to bright as he said, "I have a grudge against him."
This was a calm and powerful reason.
Wang Po said, "Don't fight for a moment."
Liang Wangsun replied, "Only fight for the present."
Wang Po said, "It goes against righteousness."
Liang Wangsun said, "Your righteousness is not my righteousness."
Wang Po said, "Righteousness is great benefit."
Liang Wangsun said no more.
Wang Po turned back to Xiao Zhang, looking into the eyes behind the white paper, and said, "You don't like him, so you come to kill him. I don't like you killing him, so I won't let you kill him."
Just like the exchange between Su Li and Chen Changsheng earlier, many things in the world were that simple.
A cool day for Wang Po—indeed, not simple at all.
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(Hello everyone, my name is Not Simple. See you tomorrow. r1148
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