Chapter 119: In the Depths of the Night, a Voice (Part 2)
Hearing these words, Xue Xingchuan’s eyes narrowed even further, and his grip on the iron spear tightened slightly.
He was the continent’s second divine general, his realm and strength far surpassing ordinary peak Star Condensation cultivators, vaguely exceeding those of the same level by half a tier. In the prime of his life, with his spirit and bearing at their absolute peak, many even believed his strength had already surpassed that of Han Qing, the divine general in the Heavenly Book Mausoleum.
Even if Mao Qiuyu and An Lin joined forces, along with that heavy treasure of the Li Palace, Xue Xingchuan was confident he could handle it. But could he really keep Chen Changsheng here?
Just then, a tremendous roar suddenly erupted from the long street parallel to the North Military Command Alley, followed by the sound of hooves, then the crash of collapsing buildings, and dust billowing everywhere!
The people around the ruined courtyard looked over and saw that the buildings along the street had been destroyed, revealing the scene on the main thoroughfare.
Candles flickered within lanterns, torches blazed, and the dim yellow light on the long street fell upon armor without any hint of warmth.
At one end of the long street stood eighteen high-ranking red-robed cardinals of the Li Palace, along with several hundred national religion cavalrymen armed with divine crossbows.
At the other end of the long street were the pitch-black, tide-like soldiers of the Kyoto City Gate Command and the exceptionally well-equipped Imperial Guard. At the very front was none other than Xu Shiji himself, his expression grim and murderous.
The standoff between the imperial court and the national religion had lasted an entire night.
At first, both sides were searching for someone. Now, they were at daggers drawn, ready to strike at any moment. In fact, they had already clashed. The collapsed buildings, the unsettled dust, the cavalry corpses lying in pools of blood on the street, the trail of blood at the corner of Xu Shiji’s mouth, and the three severely wounded red-robed archbishops were all clear evidence.
The atmosphere on the long street was exceptionally oppressive and tense. Even the warhorses sensed it, nervously pawing the ground with their hooves.
In the end, it was a person no one expected who brought this standoff to a close.
Covered in blood, Zhou Tong gasped out, barely alive, “I’m still alive.”
Yes, he was still alive. This was something Chen Changsheng could not accept, but it was something both the national religion and the imperial court were willing to accept, because it meant there was still room for compromise.
Now Zhou Tong himself had spoken.
A carriage drove out from the alley facing the street. The curtain was lifted, revealing the face of Prince Chenliu.
That handsome face was filled with worry, especially after seeing Chen Changsheng.
“I’ve come to take him back,” Prince Chenliu said to Xue Xingchuan, his gaze calm and fearless.
Xue Xingchuan was silent for a moment, then slowly lowered his right hand. He glanced at Chen Changsheng expressionlessly and ordered his subordinates, “Escort Lord Zhou Tong back to the palace.”
The sound of hooves rose again, still like thunder, but no longer as heart-stopping as before. The cavalry of the imperial court and the national religion, following orders, slowly withdrew into the night at both ends of the long street.
“I’ve caused everyone trouble,” Chen Changsheng said to Mao Qiuyu, then, supported by Prince Chenliu, he climbed onto the carriage.
Due to certain issues—both situational and psychological—he did not want to get too close to the Li Palace at the moment.
The night wind lifted the curtain, and he saw the North Military Command Alley and that courtyard, which he had never been able to see from the main street before. He saw the Imperial Guard lifting Zhou Tong onto a stretcher.
Zhou Tong’s eyes were closed, his face deathly pale, his body drenched in blood. He looked like a corpse.
Even if the imperial physicians in the palace could save him, half of this infamous traitor’s soul and body would be gone. He was essentially a cripple.
Yet the knot of gloom between Chen Changsheng’s brows still could not be smoothed away.
“Was I being reckless and disregarding the bigger picture?” he asked Prince Chenliu.
Prince Chenliu reached out and patted his shoulder, comforting him, “Of course Zhou Tong isn’t an ordinary minister, but to Her Majesty, she only uses him if he’s useful. If you had actually killed him just now, would Her Majesty really seek revenge for him? Would she start a war for him and kill the future Pope? Of course not.”
In truth, he hadn’t finished speaking. In his mind, if Chen Changsheng was Her Majesty’s biological son, then naturally his life was far more important than Zhou Tong’s—whether that rumor was true or not. Even if Her Majesty wanted to kill Chen Changsheng, in her heart, Chen Changsheng’s life was still a thousand times, ten thousand times more valuable than Zhou Tong’s.
Prince Chenliu’s gaze passed through the curtain and landed on Zhou Tong on the stretcher. He said in a deep voice, “He’s just a dog.”
“A dead dog is a dog. As long as it’s alive, it’s still a wolf.”
Chen Changsheng recalled a phrase Zhe Xiu had once said to him, and suddenly felt very weary. He said, “I didn’t manage to truly kill him tonight. I don’t know if there will ever be another chance.”
He knew very well that at the very least, he himself would never have another opportunity to kill Zhou Tong.
“A figure like Zhou Tong is naturally hard to kill. Pushing him to this point is already quite remarkable.”
As a member of the imperial clan, Prince Chenliu could not possibly have any fondness for Zhou Tong. He wished Zhou Tong dead more than anyone else, which was why he was more grateful than anyone for what Chen Changsheng had done tonight.
“I admire you greatly,” he said, looking at Chen Changsheng.
Thinking of the turmoil in Kyoto tonight and the tense, explosive situation on the long street earlier, his expression grew several degrees more solemn. His appearance on the long street earlier, and now sitting in this carriage with Chen Changsheng, leaving under the escort of the national religion cavalry, was effectively a formal declaration of his stance to all of Kyoto and Her Majesty the Saintess.
Chen Changsheng didn’t think there was anything admirable about himself.
Because he still hadn’t killed Zhou Tong.
Back at the National Religion Academy, Zhe Xiu had said that he would kill Zhou Tong before going to Lishan to pick up Qijian. At the time, Chen Changsheng and Tang Thirty-Six had thought it was an impossible task.
A big shot like Zhou Tong was naturally very hard to kill, but tonight he had almost succeeded. If not for that last patch of night blocking his way.
If not for a voice from the deepest part of the night directly entering his mind.
It was a voice he knew very well, a voice he hadn’t heard in a long time.
……
……
At that time, in the courtyard shrouded by night, only Chen Changsheng and Zhou Tong remained.
Chen Changsheng heard that voice, and Zhou Tong heard it too.
At that moment, he thought it was a hallucination brought on by the brink of death.
The night was so deep, so cold. He didn’t want to die, because death was an even deeper, even colder abyss.
In that moment closest to death, all his sinister, terrifying shells were shattered, leaving behind the venomous, despicable, cowardly him.
After confirming that the voice was real, he agreed to that person’s conditions without hesitation.
Sure enough, that patch of night preserved his life. Yet he could not feel even a trace of warmth from it; instead, he felt even colder.
The world said that he, Zhou Tong, was a schemer on par with the demon race’s strategist, Black Robe. But after hearing that person’s voice, he realized that this claim was nothing but a joke.
Before that person in the depths of the night, how could he even qualify to talk about schemes? How could he be considered cold and heartless? In that person’s eyes, he was probably just a dog.
A dog that was still somewhat useful.
But even if he really was a dog, he still had to live.
Even if he had to wag his tail and beg for mercy before the entire world, with a pitiful look in his eyes, he still had to live.
Thinking of these things, his mind grew even more agitated. Zhou Tong could no longer resist the onslaught of his injuries and fell into a coma.
Under the personal escort of the two divine generals, Xue Xingchuan and Xu Shiji, the severely wounded Zhou Tong was sent into the imperial palace.
Only there, only in this place, could his survival be ensured.
News of Zhou Tong’s severe injuries must have already spread. Under the night sky of Kyoto, who knew how many people wanted him dead.
It was just like the situation Su Li had encountered on his journey south.
Looking at Zhou Tong on the bed, barely breathing and a gruesome sight, Xue Xingchuan and Xu Shiji remained silent for a long time, never speaking.
They didn’t know what to say.
How had Chen Changsheng managed to do this?
The terrifying, miserable wound from Zhou Tong’s left cheek down to his ribs lay exposed under the lamplight, shocking to the eye.
Xue Xingchuan and Xu Shiji both thought they knew Chen Changsheng well, especially the latter. They could never have imagined that Chen Changsheng possessed such a formidable side.
The holy light master supported by the imperial court arrived, as did the best imperial physicians from the palace. That old eunuch leader also came, representing Her Majesty the Saintess.
It was only after the diagnosis and treatment were complete, confirming that Zhou Tong should be able to cling to life, that Her Majesty still did not appear.
“I’ll go handle matters first.”
Xu Shiji, perhaps affected by something, his expression somewhat grim, left the palace city like that.
Xue Xingchuan did not leave. He carefully cleaned Zhou Tong’s wounds, then moved a chair and sat down at the main entrance of the hall.
He closed his eyes, his iron spear resting horizontally across his knees.
No matter who else came to kill Zhou Tong, they would have to kill him first.
Because he was Zhou Tong’s only friend in this world.
Zhou Tong had only this one friend in the world.
If even he abandoned Zhou Tong, then Zhou Tong would truly be left all alone.
……
……
The world knew that Xue Xingchuan was Zhou Tong’s only friend.
This was also something the world had pondered for decades without understanding.
Xue Xingchuan was the continent’s second divine general. With Han Qing guarding the mausoleum for centuries, he was effectively the foremost among the divine generals. Whether in terms of strength, realm, battle achievements, or merits earned in the north, he could bear this illustrious reputation without any shame. In fact, there had always been a saying that he and Wang Po were the two most likely to break through that threshold and enter the sacred domain.
Moreover, his reputation was quite good. Whether in commanding the army or managing his household, he was extremely disciplined. Yet, paradoxically, he was close friends with the infamous Zhou Tong. Some had speculated in the past whether this was due to Her Majesty the Saintess’s influence. But other divine generals loyal to Her Majesty, though wary of Zhou Tong, never actively sought his company and never showed him a friendly face.
No one knew why.
The imperial physicians in the palace were indeed highly skilled, and the holy light also played a significant role. Despite such severe injuries, Zhou Tong actually woke up after not too long.
Xue Xingchuan stood up and walked back to the bedside. Looking at Zhou Tong’s pale face, he said, “Don’t rush to speak. Focus on healing first.”
Zhou Tong ignored him, his voice weak as he said, “Do I look like a dog right now?”
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