Chapter 538: Liu Canyang
When Zhu Luo opened Su Li’s letter, the fat old man sat nearby with a faint smile, not particularly worried. He naturally knew that Su Li was formidable and that Su Li’s sword was terrifying, but this was, after all, just a letter. Even if it contained Su Li’s sword intent and divine soul, the medium was limited—how could it truly harm Zhu Luo?
The fat old man even felt a trace of disdain for Zhu Luo’s hesitation, thinking to himself that perhaps the matter in the capital would need alternative arrangements.
However, when that sword intent burst forth from the letter, plunging the entire Ten Thousand Willow Garden into darkness, the fat old man realized he had been wrong.
Su Li’s sword was far more powerful and fearsome than he had imagined.
Could a mere sword intent on a piece of paper actually suppress a super-strong expert at the Eight Directions Wind and Rain level?
Although Zhu Luo was injured, this was still utterly unbelievable.
The realm within that sword intent seemed to have even surpassed Zhu Luo’s by an entire level!
Even the will of a sage might not be able to achieve this.
Aside from legendary powerhouses of the caliber of Zhou Dufu, Chen Xuanba, Emperor Taizong, or Wang Zhice, who could accomplish such a feat?
Su Li was no sage, yet his sword path had nearly reached the divine!
As the golden crows burst forth in the Winter Garden, the bright moon in the night sky suddenly dimmed. The fat old man’s face showed shock, and without a second thought, he drifted over.
Zhu Luo was already in peril; if he didn’t act now, it would be too late.
With a sharp howl, the fat old man’s palms tore through the air before him and slammed toward those golden-crow-like, blazing sword intents!
He looked like a mountain of flesh, yet his drifting movement was remarkably light, and his palms descended just as gently, flapping slowly like a true bird.
The Golden Crow Sword was a secret sword technique of Lishan, originating from Su Li. Its sword intent was immensely scorching; once unleashed, it continuously spewed light and heat outward, unstoppable.
Back in the Grand Court Examination and the Zhou Garden, Chen Changsheng had used the Golden Crow Sword several times, forcing opponents stronger than him to temporarily evade its edge.
Today, these Golden Crow sword intents came from Su Li’s hand, and their power was beyond imagination.
If an ordinary cultivator were to touch them, they would likely be burned directly into green smoke.
Even a profoundly skilled expert could only contend with them using techniques like Zhu Luo’s Moonlight Sword Intent, without daring direct contact.
Yet, for some reason, though the fat old man’s face showed caution and fear, he still struck down at those golden crow sword intents.
An indescribable aura emerged in the courtyard of the Ten Thousand Willow Garden, now reduced to ruins.
That aura was powerful, but in truth, it was still inferior to Zhu Luo’s Moonlight Sword Intent. Yet it carried an ancient feeling.
A sun, seemingly real, appeared between the fat old man’s palms, blindingly bright and dazzling!
Under the illumination of those rays, the fat old man’s face no longer held any trace of joviality. His kind brows and eyes became immensely dignified, and behind him, the images of a dragon and tiger manifested.
At this moment, where was the country rich man one might see in a village? This was clearly an emperor!
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Three powerful auras converged in the Ten Thousand Willow Garden.
Moonlight struggled to cast its silver glow across the sky.
The blazing sun constantly pushed back the falling night.
Countless sword intents, like firebirds, wove between the sky and the sun.
Tens of thousands of cold-resistant weeping willows began to burn.
This was not the fire of twilight, but true combustion.
The cold Winter Garden seemed to plummet instantly into a scorching abyss of hell.
With a thunderous roar, flames scattered wildly, charred willows toppled, wells cracked, and walls collapsed.
No one knew how long passed before those violent and raging auras gradually subsided.
The estate had become ruins, and the cold pond could no longer reflect anyone.
Zhu Luo leaned against a remnant willow by the pond’s edge, his face pale, his chest stained with patches of blood. More critically, his left hand had been severed at the wrist.
The fat old man stood within a broken table, his obese body straining the table’s remaining edges to the limit, as if it might shatter at any moment. His fleshy face no longer held any trace of joviality or imperial dignity—only exhaustion and ugliness remained.
From many years ago, he had already glimpsed the threshold of the Sacred Domain. If not for his fear of the reaction from that person in the capital, he might have crossed it long ago. In this battle, he had even displayed strength not inferior to the Sacred Domain.
Yet he and Zhu Luo had still lost, and lost so miserably. If that sword intent hadn’t been aimed at Zhu Luo, and if his family’s inherited technique hadn’t been close to the source of the Golden Crow Sword’s path, he would surely have been severely injured. Even with his help, Zhu Luo might already be dead by now.
And their opponent was merely a letter from Su Li.
Zhu Luo slowly stood up and gazed at the surrounding wilderness.
The once infinitely beautiful Ten Thousand Willow Garden was now a scorched wasteland, with some willows still burning in the distance.
The Ten Thousand Willow Garden still existed, but it no longer lived up to its name.
Just like him now.
He knew clearly that this was Su Li’s revenge.
To this, he had nothing to say.
“I’m afraid I cannot participate in the capital’s affairs.”
Zhu Luo said to the fat old man without turning around, his expression desolate.
The fat old man knew this was inevitable. Not to mention that Zhu Luo might never recover his peak strength, he might even fall from the ranks of the Eight Directions Wind and Rain.
For Zhu Luo, the most important thing now was how to arrange for his family and the Absolute Emotion Sect’s future, for that was his true legacy.
The fat old man shook his mountain-like body and walked out of the Ten Thousand Willow Garden.
Outside Hanqiu City, with the help of his subordinates, he climbed with some difficulty onto a massive carriage.
A middle-aged man with powdered face and a somewhat sharp voice asked in a low tone, “Your Highness, what happened?”
“Do you know? I originally thought that if the great plan succeeded, the first thing I would do was seize that great carriage from the Prince of Liang’s mansion.”
The fat old man squinted toward the direction of Xunyang City, speaking sorrowfully. “Now I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to sit in it in this lifetime.”
He was looking toward Xunyang City, but in truth, he was looking toward the capital.
He spoke of the Prince of Liang’s carriage, but in truth, he meant the throne in the capital’s imperial palace.
The middle-aged man had already been deeply unsettled by the strange events at the Ten Thousand Willow Garden, and now the prince’s lament made him even more anxious.
He and those officers and civil officials were all retainers of the prince’s mansion, yet they could only obey the capital’s orders. Over the years, he and his subordinates had taken immense risks, traveling far and wide to rally support for the prince. If the prince’s great plan failed, where would they find a way out?
“Wujiongbi has entered the capital.”
The middle-aged man wanted to restore the prince’s confidence and quickly shared the news he had just received.
The fat old man was somewhat surprised. Although Wujiongbi was also one of the Eight Directions Wind and Rain, she had never been among his recruitment targets—because she was also a woman.
What was that old Daoist nun doing in the capital? Could there be some unforeseen change?