Chapter 702: Each Has Their Own Specialty
Snow fell on the streets, ice covered the water.
The early winter capital was so desolate and silent.
Wang Po and Chen Changsheng walked along the Luo River. The streets were empty of people, with only the snow falling endlessly, as if it had been falling for ten years.
In the civilian homes on both sides of the street, behind the walls, on the boats in the Luo River, behind the bridges, in the dark corners of the world, countless people were hidden.
Those people came from various prefectures, princely mansions, ministries, and government offices. There were yamen runners, constables, retainers, household servants, heroes, and gallants.
Yet, as the ice surface gradually softened under the winter sun and the withered willows swayed gently, still no one made a move. The two figures in the light snow were undisturbed.
Because the experts from the imperial court had yet to appear. How could these yamen runners, constables, retainers, and household servants dare to strike first?
As for the strong men from various prefectures who styled themselves heroes and gallants, where would they find the face to attack Wang Po and Chen Changsheng?
The assassination of the current Vice Minister of Rites was a grave crime. The Great Zhou court had ample reason to issue a warrant for Wang Po, and the Starry Sky Oath was thus concluded.
The court also had reason to demand an explanation from Chen Changsheng and the Li Palace.
The capital was already under martial law.
Outside the North Military Command Alley, the man reeking of iron and cold had opened his eyes.
Until now, the court had remained still, naturally because there were other reasons.
Before the Baohe Pagoda, the Imperial Guard, fully prepared to set out, was blocked by the State Church cavalry. Two cavalry formations, like black tides, could clash at any moment.
Before the City Gate Office, instructors and students from the Green Vine Academy filled the area everywhere. Xu Shiji’s face was ashen, but he had no way to order the cavalry to charge out.
In the wind and snow, Wang Po and Chen Changsheng continued walking, occasionally stopping to say a few words to the cold willows and snowy banks, like true tourists.
Where had they gone? What had they done? What was happening in various places? Why had no one intercepted them until now?
This intelligence, in the shortest possible time, gathered in that courtyard which had once been covered in crabapple blossoms but now held only withered branches.
Zhou Tong sat in his armchair. His crimson official robe had grown even darker, like real blood. His face had grown even paler, like real snow.
The entire capital was now watching those two by the Luo River.
The whole world knew that those two had come here to kill him.
Logically speaking, even if those two were Wang Po and Chen Changsheng, they had no chance of reaching the North Military Command Alley.
But today’s situation was somewhat strange.
The Li Palace seemed genuinely willing to go mad alongside Chen Changsheng.
And many others were watching coldly from the sidelines, as if watching a play.
…
…
Snowflakes fell from between the eaves of the Li Palace, painting a white pattern on the black ground. A woman full of noble bearing stood in the middle of the white pattern, thinking about the first and last snowman she had built as a child in the West Ocean Imperial Palace, thinking about her daughter’s aggrieved little expression before she left. She did not grow weak-hearted because of this; instead, her tone became even more forceful.
“Logically speaking, I am an outsider. I should just watch today’s play from the sidelines. But if something really goes wrong, it will affect the Northern Expedition.”
The Pope looked at her and said, “So Lady Mu came to see me?”
This noblewoman’s surname was Mu, because she was a princess of the West Ocean. The Pope and the former Heavenly Sea Holy Empress were both accustomed to calling her Lady Mu.
She had an even more remarkable identity—the Queen of the Demon race, a true Saint.
Thus, even facing the supreme Pope, she showed no intention of backing down.
“Do you wish for me to go see Chen Changsheng instead?” the Pope said. “Or perhaps you should go see Shang.”
Lady Mu raised an eyebrow slightly and said, “Right now, it’s him and Wang Po who want to kill someone.”
The Pope said, “We must first see if they can kill before discussing anything else.”
Lady Mu had not expected to hear such an answer. Her voice turned slightly cold as she said, “Young people are being reckless. Why must you interfere?”
“Everyone was young once. And is Wang Po an ordinary young man? No. Is Chen Changsheng? No. He is my successor, your daughter’s teacher.” The Pope’s smile gradually faded as he spoke slowly, “You should hope he succeeds.”
Lady Mu suddenly looked at him and said, “The Demon race has never asked you to do anything.”
A glint suddenly flashed in the Pope’s aged eyes, sharp and piercing.
Lady Mu’s expression remained unchanged as she said, “You understand what I mean.”
The Pope said calmly, “I know what you’re worried about. If I truly disregarded the greater situation, Zhou Tong would have died three hundred years ago.”
This was already a promise, but Lady Mu clearly felt it was not enough. She said, “Then who sent the State Church cavalry?”
The Pope sighed, no longer answering this question. He turned and walked deeper into the palace.
Mao Qiuyu appeared from somewhere, extending his arm with great courtesy toward Lady Mu and said, “Please, this way.”
…
…
The attitudes of the Demon race and the West Ocean could not change the Pope’s thinking, but as the Pope himself had said, he had always valued the greater situation above all else.
In the capital under the first snow, the Li Palace had solved many problems for Wang Po and Chen Changsheng, prolonging the cold emptiness of the long streets. But no major figure from the State Church would lend a hand.
If they did, the State Church and the imperial court would truly tear each other apart, affecting the greater situation of the future Northern Expedition against the Demon race, as Lady Mu feared.
Lady Mu was not very satisfied with the current situation, because she neither wanted Wang Po and Chen Changsheng’s mad act to succeed nor wanted them to die.
Now that the court was fully prepared, countless experts were surely lying in ambush in the North Military Command Alley. Most crucially, Iron Tree would definitely appear.
No matter how one looked at it, Wang Po and Chen Changsheng were doomed.
Many people thought so.
Thus, as they watched those two figures advancing on the cold, empty long street amid the drifting light snow, they could always sense a certain tragic grandeur.
The wind howled mournfully, the Luo River was cold.
But Wang Po and Chen Changsheng did not feel this way.
They walked along the Luo River, chatting about old stories from dusty archives—how Wang Zhice had been back in the day—and about changes in recent years, like how many times the Naihe Bridge had been hit by boats last year.
Walking and chatting, treading on snow without seeking plum blossoms, glancing around without arrogance. They simply lifted their feet and set them down, naturally adjusting, gradually harmonizing with heaven and earth.
Then, they arrived at the North Military Command Alley.
They did not see cavalry like a tidal wave, nor crossbow bolts like a rainstorm.
On the clear, empty snow-covered street, they saw only one person.
That person radiated coldness, his sharpness hidden beneath his clothes, not belonging to the same world as the light snow, possessing an otherworldly detachment.
This was a Saint Domain expert.
“Iron Tree, with an extremely profound cultivation base. He does not rely on subtlety, only on force. In terms of combat power, he can rank among the top three of the Eight Winds and Rains.”
Wang Po said to Chen Changsheng.
Back in Xunyang City, when he and Chen Changsheng had joined forces against Zhu Luo, there had been no chance of victory, not even a sliver of opportunity.
Today, Iron Tree, who appeared on the snow-covered street, was on par with Zhu Luo in terms of realm and strength. He was younger, and his blood energy and will were at their peak.
As Wang Po had commented, in terms of pure combat power, Iron Tree, Bie Yanghong, and one other old monster were the strongest.
Even if the Heavenly Mechanism Old Man were resurrected, he might not be stronger in this regard.
Today, they had to face such a person.
Iron Tree was not standing on the street. He was sitting at a table by the roadside.
There were several chairs beside the table.
“Let’s part ways here.”
“Alright.”
“I’ll go sit for a while.”
“Alright.”
With these two simple exchanges, it was over.
Chen Changsheng and Wang Po separated on the street.
Wang Po walked toward the roadside.
Chen Changsheng walked toward the courtyard at the end of the street.
Wang Po was going to sit at that table for a while.
Sitting for a while meant having a confrontation.
He was going to confront Iron Tree.
Although he was the top of the Carefree List, the unquestioned number one expert of the younger generation, he was still far from matching a legendary expert like Iron Tree.
Yet, no one dared to say he would definitely lose.
Because he was Wang Po.
His family had been destroyed, his relatives killed. He had drifted to Danshui, walked to the Tiannan. His entire life, he had been fighting against a powerful fate.
Whether it was the Great Zhou court or experts like Zhu Luo.
Until today, he had never truly won a single battle, but he had also never lost.
The sky is cold, Wang Po prevails—he was most skilled at overcoming the strong with the weak.
At the end of the street, that courtyard, once full of crabapple blossoms, was now covered in snow.
Chen Changsheng walked toward it, his expression calm, his steps steady, his breathing and heart at ease.
He knew that countless assassins, killers, and experts were surely hidden in that courtyard, along with Zhou Tong, a Star Gathering upper-level expert.
But he felt no fear, because he had been here before.
That time, he had failed to kill Zhou Tong. Today, he would definitely succeed.
He had confidence that he could take Zhou Tong’s head amidst ten thousand troops.
Because the Dao he cultivated and the sword he learned were precisely meant to face ten thousand enemies alone.
It was just that, aside from the time he killed people at a tea stall on the southern return from the wilderness, he had never had the chance to show this to the world.
State Church Chen Changsheng—most skilled at facing many with few.