Chapter 53 – Boundless Cang Sea, Underwater Rosy Haze
“He knows!”
Jun Changwei cut him off.
“What?”
“He knows when he’s about to lose control.” Jun Changwei stared at him, the veins on the back of his hand bulging like horned dragons. His linen robes stirred with a tide of killing intent. “He knows.”
“Nonsense!” The old man’s eyes widened like bronze bells. “Those who have fallen to karmic obstruction, there has never been one who…”
“Eleven years ago, he lost control once. In Taiyi.”
Jun Changwei gripped his saber hilt tightly. Otherwise, the Gold-Inlaid Saber would have already been drawn to slash the stubborn old bastard before him.
The old man froze. “Eleven years ago? Wasn’t that…”
“Yes.” Jun Changwei closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. “It was the year Undying City was nearly swallowed by the Great Wilderness. Elder He had no choice but to request the sword leave the mountain. The Taiyi Sword suppressed Undying City for a month, until you bird-people from the Heavenly Works Mansion finally repaired the Southern Chen Bow. That year, he was seven.”
“Seven?”
The old man’s brow twitched, his expression strange.
“We count the day Elder Gu brought him back as his birthday, so he was seven that year. He came up with seven or eight mischievous ideas a day, annoying even the Kui Ox into taking detours. On the day the Taiyi Sword acted up, he was watching the bustle in the morning training grounds. By noon, he had suddenly disappeared.” Jun Changwei opened his eyes. “He went to North Star Mountain.”
“He jumped.”
The little old man was completely and utterly stunned.
Beichen Mount Despair, just one meter from the sky.
Birds could not cross it, and old monkeys could not climb it. Vicious winds, sharp as knives, scraped up from the deep cracks in the earth below. If someone jumped, they wouldn’t even hit the bottom before being torn to pieces on the way down.
It was also the only place in all of Taiyi with no people.
“The one locking away the karmic obstruction was never the Taiyi Sword.”
“It was him.”
The old man staggered back two steps.
The Gold-Inlaid Saber was pressed against his throat, its edge tight. Behind the blade were Jun Changwei’s cold eyes. “Calamity? Disaster? You dare say that one more time, and I’ll kill you!”
Twang—
Another profound iron chain snapped.
Thunder roared, the sea howled, and the earth shook.
Jun Changwei grabbed the old man by the neck, flung him over his shoulder, and walked step by step toward the Taiyi Sword. The formation patterns in the stone house flickered, now bright as the blazing sun, now dark as storm clouds. The Taiyi Sword hummed incessantly, the Soul-Sealing Sigil twisting and flowing like a snake. A bone-deep, venomous malice surged from the blade, billowing his linen robes and making him stagger.
“What’s the damn use of throwing this old bag of bones at me?”
The old man slammed into the door and coughed as he climbed back up.
“If you’ve got the guts, go kill everyone in the world!”
Jun Changwei grabbed a broken piece of profound iron, which melted in his palm. “What do you know?”
He forcibly reconnected the broken profound iron and took another step forward.
“When he first came back, he was only this big,” Jun Changwei gestured. “We watched him grow, day by day, smiling more and more. We were so happy, thinking this was truly good. If he wanted to tear down the library pavilion, we’d set up a ladder for him. If he wanted to burn a phoenix’s tail, we’d chop firewood and hold it down for him.”
“I think I finally know how he became the number one profligate…”
The little old man muttered.
If he was going to be a profligate, Taiyi would be the tyrant backing him.
With the number one immortal sect aiding and abetting him, who could possibly compare?
“The ones who least wanted him to leave the mountain were us in Taiyi. In Taiyi, he could stir up whatever trouble he wanted, however he wanted. If you don’t remember anything, you don’t know anything. We thought it could really be like this forever, because he loved to smile so much… But when he jumped from North Star Mountain, he was smiling too.”
Jun Changwei tilted his head back.
“Why do you think that old fellow An Xue refuses to return to Taiyi?”
“He’s afraid. Afraid to see him. To see him like that…” Jun Changwei raised a hand and thumped his heart hard. “It hurts here! How could we bunch of wastes be so useless?”
The little old man said nothing.
“This time he left the mountain, we had it all figured out.” Jun Changwei didn’t look back, walking step by step toward the screeching Taiyi Sword. “If he becomes a demon lord, Taiyi will become the number one evil sect in the world!”
A true bunch of lunatics.
The little old man silently watched his back, watched him being blocked by the karmic obstruction that was as solid as matter, watched him spin his Gold-Inlaid Saber, hacking away at the claws and fangs formed by the black mist, watched him grab the broken profound iron with one hand and forcibly reconnect the chain…
“Idiot!”
The little old man cursed loudly, then dashed across the room in an instant, his small frame casting a shadow as grand as a Kuafu Giant on the wall.
“If a handyman from the Heavenly Works Mansion twisted iron as haphazardly as you, his skull would have been cracked open long ago!”
He grabbed Jun Changwei’s shoulder, his hand as sharp and strong as an eagle’s claw. He lifted Jun Changwei and tossed him aside. He himself leaped up, his shoulder blades spreading left and right like a bat’s wings. Heavy iron armor flipped out from his flesh, completely encasing his withered arms.
Heavenly Soldier’s Crimson Armor.
Jun Changwei recognized it.
“Didn’t you say you were going to throw this thing away?” he shouted.
“Throw your head away,” the Old Heavenly Craftsman reached out and grabbed the hilt of the Taiyi Sword. “Once you put this damn thing on, you can’t take it off!”
In a few breaths, the blood-colored iron armor had completely enveloped him. The small hut suddenly became cramped and oppressive. The Old Heavenly Craftsman’s head touched the rafters, his feet stood on the red bricks. Countless vicious ghosts and fierce demons from the karmic obstruction pounced on him, only to be blocked by the blood-colored armor. He sank his waist and exerted his strength, forcefully pulling the Taiyi Sword from the profound iron chains and slamming it onto the cold iron anvil.
He reached out to the side.
Colorful rocks and metal powders flew into the air, landing on the sword’s body in an order Jun Changwei couldn’t comprehend, exploding in one brilliant flash of light after another.
Using iron as a brush, his strokes were as fluid as a dragon’s.
“What are you standing there gawking for?” the Old Heavenly Craftsman turned and yelled at him. “The waves are so big, they’re bound to alert those guys from the Mountain Sea Pavilion sooner or later. Aren’t you going to stop them?!”
***
On the city walls of Zhunan, at the Tide-Watching Tower.
Two disciples from the Mountain Sea Pavilion, dressed in narrow-sleeved yellow shirts, held compasses. They were frantically trying to get their bearings while looking up in a panic at the wind vane on top of the tower. “This-this isn’t right! The tide’s direction and the wind’s direction are completely opposite to what’s on the Sun and Moon Record Table.”
“Senior Brother, you said that sea duty was easy, just recording data, feeling the sea breeze, and taking a nap…” The round-faced disciple’s face was pale, his legs trembling as he looked at the ever-higher tides, his voice on the verge of tears. “Is this how you used to take your naps?”
The senior brother scratched his head. “I’ll be damned, this has never happened before.”
“What-what should we do now?”
A wave crashed against the base of the Tide-Watching Tower, and the round-faced disciple threw his arms around the wind vane’s pillar.
“Blow the sea horn!” the senior brother said uncertainly. “I remember if the wind is off by five or six marks, we’re supposed to blow the sea horn…”
With that, he put away his compass, rolled up his sleeves, and was about to walk toward the horn mounted on the corner tower. His composure filled the round-faced disciple with awe, who thought to himself that his senior brother was truly amazing.
A folding fan extended from the side and rested on his shoulder.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah—”
Zuo Liangshi quickly grabbed him by the collar. “Such a coward. You’re bringing shame to this Pavilion Master.”
The composed senior brother didn’t answer.
—He had already fainted from fright.
Zuo Liangshi shook his head, thinking that he needed to learn from the Taiyi Sect and add some courage-building exercises, like standing on a deserted island at sea in the middle of the night, with no boat and no company… As he schemed, he turned to look at the other disciple. “You take him back…”
A Gold-Inlaid Saber was pressed against his throat.
Jun Changwei held the saber in one hand and the round-faced unlucky fellow in the other.
Zuo Liangshi smiled faintly. “I knew you would come. However, I came here eagerly to help. Isn’t this greeting a bit much? It’s not good to repay kindness with malice, is it?”
“I would definitely remember the kindness of others, but you?” Jun Changwei snorted coldly. “You old fox only do business. Where’s the kindness in that?”
“That’s going too far,” Zuo Liangshi protested. “A fox is a fox, why must you add the word ‘old’? This Pavilion Master is still dashing and elegant, a true and bona fide handsome young master.”
“You should go say that to your wife,” Jun Changwei said.
“…Then an old fox it is.”
Zuo Liangshi coughed and put on a serious face.
He extended a finger, pressed it against the flat of the blade, and pushed it aside. With a smooth motion, he hung the Mountain Sea Pavilion disciple he was holding by the back of his collar onto the tip of the saber.
The corner of Jun Changwei’s eye twitched.
With a Pavilion Master like this, the Mountain Sea Pavilion deserved to be finished.
Zuo Liangshi turned to face the churning sea. A line of waves rushed in from the horizon. Even from so far away, they were nearly a hundred meters high upon arrival. One could only imagine how terrifying the scene must be at the source of the storm.
“I’ve opened the sea boundary and withdrawn the sea-watching disciples,” Zuo Liangshi’s blue robes whipped in the wind. “I also woke the Black Tortoise and asked it to stir up the sea winds and currents. No one can find where they are now, so you can rest assured.”
Jun Changwei’s brow furrowed even tighter.
The Black Tortoise carries Zhunan and suppresses the Cangming Sea.
Just like the Kui Dragon at the foot of the Taiyi Sect’s mountain, they were never to be disturbed unless it was a matter of heaven-and-earth importance. Zuo Liangshi was the Pavilion Master of the Mountain Sea Pavilion, a merchant’s pavilion, and merchants never made losing deals. For him to even mobilize the Black Tortoise, the deal he was trying to make must be absolutely massive.
“Cut the crap,” Jun Changwei said, tossing the two disciples into a corner. “What exactly do you want?”
“First, let’s go watch a show,” Zuo Liangshi said lightly.
He raised his eyes and looked toward the eastern part of Zhunan. In the direction of Red Railing Street, the firelight was gradually dimming.
***
Qin Tower.
A dark figure behind a white paper screen.
“Mister, the Heavenly Maiden acted on her own and was taken away by Zuo Yuesheng and Lu Jing.” Meiniang knelt respectfully, bowing deeply until her forehead touched the wooden floor. “Should we send people to bring her back?”
“No need.”
Mister Xi picked up a shard of ice glaze with silver tweezers and examined it against the candlelight.
“But…” Meiniang hesitated. “A-Lian is not very obedient. It would be bad if she delayed Mister’s plans because of her.”
“It’s alright,” Mister Xi said gently. “She will be a good girl.”
“Yes.”
Meiniang dared not say more.
She could only sigh softly in her heart for the girl who still harbored some girlish dreams… All of their fates were like threads under Mister Xi’s fingers, pulled and manipulated by this always-smiling man. Anyone who thought they had broken free from the puppet strings would only follow the script he had written, step by step, towards their death.
“You like that child.” Mister Xi turned the shard. “Is it that you can’t bear to see her throw herself into the fire?”
Meiniang was not surprised.
She was already used to Mister Xi’s profound insight into the human heart.
“When Wu Mei sees her, it’s like seeing my old arrogant self, not knowing that Mister’s plans never fail,” Meiniang said. “Back then, Mister was merciful and spared Wu Mei once. Wu Mei can’t help but want to plead for her forgiveness as well. It was Wu Mei who was reckless.”
“Meiniang, you overestimate me,” Mister Xi laughed. “I just failed spectacularly a few days ago. How could my plans never fail?”
Meiniang was shocked and almost looked up at him.
How could that be possible? In this world, how could anyone escape his control?
Mister Xi sighed. “I taught a student. He was such a good boy, humble and intelligent, with a talent that surpassed my own back then… I spent a full hundred years teaching him evil, instructing him in sin, and sculpting him into a lovable form.”
He might have genuinely liked that student, as his tone was filled with so much admiration.
“Unfortunately, he was too deeply influenced by his former teacher. Only after he personally killed that old fellow would he realize that man was just an old coward, and only then would he become truly perfect.” Mister Xi spoke leisurely, as if he were a dedicated teacher, like a father or an older brother. “So, I busied myself again, planning a grand ceremony for him, helping him sever his past, helping him make a stunning debut.”
Meiniang’s blood ran cold.
“Unfortunately, in the end, he was never my student.”
Mister Xi let out a long sigh.
“What a pity.”
Meiniang’s back was drenched in cold sweat. She wished she had never heard these words.
—She had guessed the true identity of this “Mister Xi.”
Mister Xi seemed not to notice her abnormality, his gaze fixed on the empty space.
“But it’s a good thing I saw another student worth teaching today, a child who has not yet had a teacher, as pure as paper.” He slowly withdrew his gaze and said in a warm voice, “Meiniang, you’re a smart person, aren’t you?”
“Wu Mei understands,” Meiniang replied, her voice trembling.
“Don’t be so afraid. It’s just telling a story.” Mister Xi smiled. “Have someone repair the Dome Pearl. Without the Dome Pearl, this Myriad Phenomena Peeker is useless… Pavilion Master Zuo has come to Qin Tower so many times, he probably never imagined that what he uses is such a simple mortal device, without a trace of spiritual energy.”
On the low table to his right, the glass sphere, about a meter in diameter, was now dim and lusterless.
“Immortal Elder Chou shattered the Dome Pearl. It’s still unknown whether it was intentional or not. Using the Myriad Phenomena Peeker again might risk exposure.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Mister Xi put down the shard of ice glaze.
“Someone is here.”
Before his words had faded, Meiniang heard a long string of chaotic footsteps mixed with curses.
Meiniang was startled.
The interior of Qin Tower was actually full of hidden mechanisms. Behind many of the private rooms were secret passages separated by thin wooden panels. The secret passages wound around several times before leading to this most hidden chamber. Now, the footsteps were chaotic, as if dozens or hundreds of people were rushing straight over. She immediately stood up. As she did, the corner of her eye caught the figure behind the screen fading like ink in water.
Bang—
The wooden partition shattered.
A figure flew in, arms and legs flailing, and crashed right into Meiniang, whose hair was half-undone and robes were disheveled.
Before Meiniang could speak, she was sent crashing into the wall with him.
“Heroes, spare my life!” Monk Budu, who had just smashed through the wall, cried out dramatically. “It’s not easy for this poor monk to earn three hundred taels of silver! Hit me gently!”
The people behind him had been led on a wild goose chase all over Qin Tower for half the night. Now that they had finally caught him, they weren’t about to let him talk. With a great rush, they surrounded him three layers deep, not even looking at who he had dragged down with him as a cushion, and began to punch and kick, their curses endless.
“Don’t hit the face!”
Monk Budu shouted, then “unintentionally” rolled over, his elbow slamming hard into Meiniang’s face. The impact made her jaw snap shut, and the words she was about to shout with her gathered qi rolled back down her throat.
After a while of punching and kicking, someone rushed over.
“Everyone, make way for me!”
Taiyu Shi, his golden crown askew, had a white face that was purple with rage, the same color as his clothes.
This Monk Budu was a real scoundrel! He shouted “I am a Buddhist Saint of the Buddhist Sect, whoever bullies the young with their age is going against the Buddha,” making the high-cultivation elders of Qin Tower hesitate to act, while at the same time using his unparalleled lightness skill to provoke others, leading them on a merry chase…
Among them, Taiyu Shi had been tricked the worst. He had been schemed against by Monk Budu and kicked into a latrine…
This was why Taiyu Shi had arrived half a day late.
As soon as Taiyu Shi arrived, the crowd that had been surrounding them in three layers immediately held their noses and dispersed. It couldn’t be helped. Taiyu Shi was in a hurry to settle scores with Monk Budu, so he had jumped into the lotus pond and swam a few laps before coming over. The “fragrance” on him was “wafting for ten li”…
Taiyu Shi, long accustomed to the smell, was not bothered by it. Seeing the crowd disperse, he was even quite pleased with himself.
He lifted the hem of his robe and was about to stomp on the bald donkey’s face.
“Ah!”
The crowd suddenly let out a gasp of astonishment.
“Meiniang?!”
Just as Taiyu Shi’s foot shot out, it was grabbed forcefully. He looked down and saw Meiniang, her face bruised and swollen, her hair disheveled, her inner robes in disarray. She was looking at them with a ferocious expression, her eyes as if they wanted to eat them.
The crowd was inexplicably frightened by her and took a step back.
“How-how is it you? Where’s the bald donkey?”
Someone asked timidly.
The fire on Red Railing Street was mostly out.
A patrol team from the Mountain Sea Pavilion failed to catch the arsonist and left, cursing. Just as they left, a person with powdered face, flowers in their hair, and an utterly garish appearance emerged from a corner.
“This poor monk is truly wise beyond compare.”
Monk Budu saw them walk away, pulled his wig down more securely, and, wearing the outer robe he had stripped from Meiniang, slunk along the base of the wall.
“Time to go collect my fee from Benefactor Zuo.”
After walking for about five hundred meters, the Buddhist beads on his wrist suddenly stirred, as if wanting to fly toward the distant Cangming Sea. The sound of Buddhist chants faintly echoed, like a Vajra’s wrath.
Monk Budu’s expression changed, and he quickly pressed it down.
“No, no, no! This demon is not for us to subdue, and this evil is not for us to handle.”
As he muttered nervously to himself, he took to his heels and sprinted in the opposite direction of where the beads wanted to go.
“Please don’t go subduing demons at a time like this.”
The sea of suffering is hard to cross, and all beings are hard to protect.
The Cang River is boundless.
***
Where was he?
It was as if he were by the water, yet also at the edge of the sky… He felt himself falling, with the sound of the tide in his ears, and in the tide, there were so many whispers.
“How terrifying, the young master of the Chou family, to be so cold-hearted…”
“No matter who dies, it won’t affect his eating, drinking, and merrymaking.”
“…”
Oh, right, he seemed to be drinking.
In the wine lounge.
The owner of the wine lounge was a madman. He had opened his lounge at the bottom of the sea, believing that drinking with tens of thousands of tons of seawater overhead would give people a sense of being cut off from the world. So, many artistic youths would come here, leading their sweethearts across the white sand, looking up at the sky’s light through the glass, reciting a line or two of poetry, and pledging their love for ten thousand years amidst the shimmering water ripples.
There was also a species of red fish in this sea area that, when they gathered, looked like sunset clouds wandering at the bottom of the sea. Chou Bodeng liked the color red, and his love for red extended to the fish, and thus to this wine lounge.
So he bought the entire sea and closed it to the public.
The artistic men and women lost their sacred place and cursed him countless times behind his back.
The original owner of the lounge was tragically demoted from boss to servant. His former swagger, leading new guests proudly through the underwater world, was gone forever… Young Master Chou never listened to his flowery explanations of ocean currents and fish shoals, tides and sea breezes. His only purpose was to present a few bottles of fine wine when Young Master Chou graced him with his presence, and then disappear without a sound, leaving the entire seabed to Chou Bodeng alone.
Chou Bodeng opened his eyes.
Before him was layer upon layer of blackness.
To his left was a wine bottle, to his right was the button to turn on the lounge’s lights. The original owner had installed the lights with the idea of two long, bright tracks stretching out in parallel when the seabed was dark at night.
Unfortunately, scientists believed the light would affect the fish shoals’ reproduction, and after environmentalists protested with signs for half a month, he had no choice but to turn them off. Later, the original owner complained online using a throwaway account, saying sourly: It’s great to be rich and powerful, a whole sea lit up for just one person to see. The environmental warriors can’t even protest… It’s a private sea, they can’t even get in.
In fact, if the environmental warriors could get in, there would be nothing to protest.
When Chou Bodeng was alone in the lounge, he would get drunk in the shimmering daylight and wake up in the dark, lightless night. When he woke, he never turned on the lights.
He couldn’t have been more environmentally friendly.
Chou Bodeng leaned against the glass, wondering on which day the iron frames supporting the glass would be corroded and rusted through by the seawater, or on which day one of these glass panes would fail to withstand the pressure and shatter.
As he thought this, he heard the sonata of metal and glass.
He looked up and saw the iron frames, said to be of great “geometric aesthetic,” begin to twist. A fine, dense white web rapidly spread across the glass. Ten thousand tons of seawater were about to come crashing down.
He reached for a bottle of wine and drank it down in one go.
One must drink the strongest wine, wear the fieriest red robes, so that one won’t be cold when sinking into the deepest darkness.
One must live in drunkenness and die in dreams, live a lifetime of intoxicated absurdity.
One must…
The lights of the underwater lounge suddenly came on, two tracks of light splitting the darkness. The moment the seabed was illuminated, he was forcefully pressed into an embrace.
“You’ve come to save me.”