Chapter 712: Two Paper Kites (Part 1)
Just as Chen Changsheng caught sight of Zhou Tong, a clap of thunder echoed from the street behind him, then landed somewhere far in the distance.
He sensed the battle at Luo River, felt the changes in the principles of heaven and earth, and also a blade intent that was closely connected to him.
That blade intent shattered in the next moment, and then a new blade intent emerged.
He was shocked, then invigorated, and he understood the current situation even more clearly.
Killing Zhou Tong was a matter between him and Wang Po. Now that Wang Po had removed the greatest obstacle to this matter—the Iron Tree—it was time for him to take over.
The wind and snow suddenly broke apart, and a blurry afterimage appeared in the courtyard.
Riding the momentum of the wind and snow, Chen Changsheng arrived before the armchair, thrusting the short sword in his hand toward Zhou Tong seated within.
With his sword intent came a wave of scorching heat and a burst of radiance.
This heat and radiance came from his true essence, which was burning fiercely.
The cold wind stirred Zhou Tong's official robe, and a great wave rose from the sea of blood.
The Stainless Sword pierced through the waves, plunging straight into the depths of the blood sea.
This was not Chen Changsheng's first time in this courtyard, nor his first attempt to kill Zhou Tong.
He had experience, was more cautious, and had prepared for this moment for a very long time.
This sword strike appeared simple, but in reality, it concealed countless follow-up moves.
This sword was the Wisdom Sword, but it was actually the vanguard of countless sword techniques.
The National Religion's True Sword, the Mountain-Toppling Staff, the Evening Clouds Withdraw from the Wenshui Three Styles, the Cold Branch Intent from the Zhai Sword—all were contained within this single strike.
Behind this sword, he had also prepared three of his most powerful and unknown methods.
No matter how Zhou Tong responded, he would be engulfed by the endless, cascading sword techniques like a raging river.
Or, he would be killed in a single blow.
However, what happened next exceeded his expectations.
It wasn't that Zhou Tong suddenly broke through to become a supreme expert of the Sacred Domain.
Nor was it that his teacher suddenly appeared on the scene.
Rather, Zhou Tong's response was strange.
Zhou Tong's response was no response at all.
He did nothing.
With a soft thud, the extremely sharp short sword easily pierced the official robe and stabbed into Zhou Tong's chest, as if stabbing into a patch of mud.
Perhaps because the official robe was too blood-red, it was hard to tell if there was any bleeding.
Zhou Tong's face was somewhat pale, his gaze utterly indifferent, and even with the blade piercing his body, there was no trace of pain.
He looked at Chen Changsheng, his eyes filled with mockery, as if looking at an incredibly foolish dead man.
Zhou Tong was a very sinister and powerful minister, a strong practitioner of the Star-Gathering Upper Realm.
The news that Chen Changsheng and Wang Po were going to kill him had already spread throughout the entire capital. There was no way he would be unprepared.
Even if Chen Changsheng had prepared thoroughly, he couldn't possibly kill him so easily.
The moment the short sword pierced that crimson official robe, Chen Changsheng knew something was wrong.
Either this whole matter was problematic, or Zhou Tong himself was problematic.
The next moment, Zhou Tong's body dissipated before his eyes.
That red official robe fell onto the armchair.
An extremely thick smell of blood, like water, flowed down the stone steps, then spread, enveloping the entire courtyard.
The Zhou Tong who had been sitting in the armchair all along wasn't a real existence at all—just a piece of clothing.
How had he done it? How could he have deceived so many subordinates? Most incomprehensibly, how could he have fooled Chen Changsheng's eyes?
Chen Changsheng was born in holy light, bathed in dragon blood, and had his internal organs cleansed by the Heavenly Sea Holy Empress. His eyes were incredibly sharp; it was very difficult for any formation or disguise to escape his notice.
That left only one possibility: what was deceived was not his eyes, but his consciousness.
Many people knew that Zhou Tong had cultivated a spiritual secret technique to a very high and terrifying level, called the Great Red Robe.
Perhaps this was the reason?
Chen Changsheng certainly knew that Zhou Tong's spiritual secret technique was powerful. He had once fought against the Great Red Robe right here, and had even experienced it twice before.
He truly hadn't expected that Zhou Tong's Great Red Robe had become so powerful, far surpassing the previous two times.
He didn't know that the reason he had escaped unscathed from Zhou Tong's Great Red Robe the first two times was because the Heavenly Sea Holy Empress had wiped a drop of clear tea on his brow.
And now, she was gone, and the tea had grown cold.
...
...
Zhou Tong was not there.
Chen Changsheng's sword naturally struck empty air.
All his preparations, the countless sword techniques hidden in reserve, those methods—all came to nothing.
Most importantly, his spirit, will, and determination all landed on nothing.
The cold wind howled, the crabapple tree swayed, and Xiao De arrived through the air, another fist coming.
Chen Changsheng's sword had gone too far, so naturally, he couldn't withdraw it too quickly.
Driven by the force of the fist, his clothes fluttered, making his movements seem very slow.
But within this slowness, there was a very steady rhythm.
He turned his wrist, gave a light flick, and the yellow paper umbrella in his left hand rested on his shoulder.
This series of movements was very clean and crisp.
Xiao De's fist smashed onto the yellow paper umbrella again, an immensely powerful force landing squarely.
Chen Changsheng, like a kite with a broken string, was blasted into the air and fell into the main hall that had only been rebuilt a few dozen days ago.
Amidst the dull crashing sounds, his body smashed through several hard stone walls before falling heavily.
Dust billowed, and the buildings collapsed one after another.
He stood up from the rubble.
Xiao De, covered in blood, came behind him like a true demonic beast.
The sound of breaking air rang out continuously as dozens of experts took their positions on the walls and in the trees, surrounding the courtyard.
The weakest of these experts were at the Star-Gathering Realm.
They came from various ministries of the imperial court, the military, the Heavenly Mechanism Pavilion, and some originally belonged here—assassins of the Qingli Department.
Zhou Tong was not there.
He had used the Great Red Robe secret technique to create a grand illusion.
Today was clearly a trap.
Chen Changsheng had stepped right into it.
Faced with such a reality, many people would panic, their minds in turmoil.
Even if they didn't panic, they would feel some frustration.
Even if their will was far stronger than ordinary people's, since they had fallen into the enemy's trap, they would show some vigilance.
Even if their Dao heart was clear and could dispel all these negative emotions, they would still feel some regret, at least wanting to know: since Zhou Tong wasn't here, where was he now?
Chen Changsheng did not.
He put away the yellow paper umbrella, combined the sword with its sheath, and then looked at Xiao De and the experts from all directions.
His movements were unhurried, his expression calm. His face showed no trace of frustration, nor any vigilance toward the conspiracy.
He had absolutely not anticipated beforehand that the Zhou Tong in the courtyard was a fake, which was why he had unleashed such a thunderous sword strike.
Why was he so composed now, as if he had already foreseen all of this?
Xiao De couldn't understand his calmness and grew wary, asking, "Did you guess it?"
Chen Changsheng said, "I had considered this possibility beforehand, but this place is hard to enter. If I wanted to fight my way in, I couldn't afford to think that way, so I didn't."
These words were a bit convoluted, but Xiao De understood them clearly.
If Chen Changsheng had truly believed Zhou Tong wasn't here, even if only with a one-in-ten-thousand chance, he wouldn't have been able to charge forward with such abandon as before.
And if he couldn't charge forward with abandon, he would never have been able to reach this courtyard and thrust that sword at the Great Red Robe on the armchair.
Xiao De said, "Then why can you be so calm?"
Chen Changsheng said, "I have done my best and have a clear conscience. Naturally, I can be calm."
Xiao De sneered, "That clichéd saying again."
"I'm not talking about my state of mind. I'm saying I have already achieved my goal."
After saying this, Chen Changsheng coughed, looking somewhat pained.
He had taken two punches from Xiao De head-on, and despite the protection of the yellow paper umbrella, several of his ribs were broken.
No blood was visible—that was just his combat habit. In fact, the flow of true essence in his meridians was gradually becoming sluggish.
Xiao De slowly narrowed his eyes and said, "You don't even know where Zhou Tong is, yet you dare to claim you've achieved your goal?"
"A kite with a broken string—no one knows where it will fall. But he's not that; he's just a dog, and I've scared him so badly he doesn't dare stay here."
Chen Changsheng said, "A stray dog—how much longer can it live?"