Chapter 158 – I Throw Ten Thousand Gold to the Wave Subduer

The depths of winter.

The ice season in the West Continent arrived earlier and left later than in the other continents, making for a long and cold winter. This year was the coldest winter since the Night of Dusk and Dawn’s Division, and also the coldest time of the year in Plum City. White snow swirled and covered the gray tiles, and icicles hung from the eaves.

Normally, Plum City would have quieted down by now.

Starting from the first light snow, friends and relatives would have gradually returned home. By the depths of winter, everyone who was supposed to be back would have returned. Every household would have closed its doors, gathering around the stove to wait for the long winter to pass. Apart from a few grocery stores, all other shops would have their wooden doors tightly shut. The entire city would be filled with only the soft rustling of snow falling on the eaves, occasionally interspersed with the meow of a cat by the stove. The long streets would be deserted.

But this year, Plum City was not quiet.

As far as the eye could see, the streets were filled with people.

Refugees in ragged clothes, their lips purple from the cold, their hands and feet chapped and bleeding, huddled together under the eaves, with their families in tow… They were all common people who had fled from the coastal cities. The southward-flowing hundred rivers and the vengeful sea demons had bloodied the coastal cities, and one after another, the sea cities had been ravaged. Hundreds of thousands, tens of hundreds of thousands, millions of refugees flocked inland.

At first, it was only the people from the submerged sea cities who fled. Soon, as the news spread, more and more people from near the coast also began to trek east. All the flying boats that could be bought with a travel permit were packed to the brim. Even the infamous “Startled Swan White Colt Boat” of the Mountain Sea Pavilion had its tickets sold for a thousand gold.

Plum City was located at the intersection of three escape routes.

Nearly a quarter of the refugees from the Changlan Strait, the White Wood Strait, and the Hongdou Strait had fled here.

“A bowl of congee, please, have mercy, give me a bowl of congee.”

A disheveled woman with a child on her back, wrapped in a dirty cloth strip, begged pitifully, squeezing through the crowd.

At the end of East Street, under a drooping plum tree.

The “Yang” brand breakfast stall was surrounded by refugees, their faces sallow from hunger. The old woman in charge of the ladle was tremblingly stirring a pot of soup. The congee in the pot was more like half a bowl of clear soup with a layer of rice grains floating on top. Even so, every time the old woman ladled out a bowl, a dozen hands would desperately reach out to grab it.

“Get back! Get back! Anyone who pushes the stall will be kicked out of Plum City!” At the Yang’s congee stall, a Mountain Sea Pavilion cultivator stood on a high place, scolding sternly.

Undoubtedly, if it weren’t for this cultivator’s supervision, the refugees present would have long since rushed forward and snatched all the congee in the pot.

The old woman’s adopted granddaughter, who was helping her, turned pale.

At first, the refugees waiting by the congee stall were not as orderly as they were now. The old woman and the young girl had been woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of their door being pried open. Some starving people had climbed into their courtyard, trying to steal the rice and flour from the congee stall. Fortunately, a few days ago, a flying boat almost half the size of Plum City had arrived.

Almost everyone in Plum City had clearly seen that flying boat.

It was the most exquisite and magnificent flying boat they had ever seen in their lives, a white jade ship with a golden tower. It landed outside Plum City, directly dispersing the ten kilometers of miasma floating outside the city. A group of cultivators in silver cloaks and monks in kasayas descended from the flying boat. As soon as these cultivators and monks entered the city, they immediately took control of the entire city.

They settled the refugees, organized relief efforts, and quelled conflicts…

With that, Plum City was barely stabilized.

“Here.”

The little granddaughter handed the woman with the child on her back a bowl half-filled with thin congee.

The woman thanked her profusely and retreated, protecting the bowl of congee. As soon as she stepped back, she held the bowl with one hand and with the other, she undid the cloth bag that held the baby. “A-Nuan, A-Nuan, we have congee, we have congee! Quick, quick, have a drink!”

The woman’s withered hand trembled as she brought the dirty, broken bowl to her little daughter’s mouth, urging her anxiously.

The thin congee spilled from the child’s mouth.

“A-Nuan, A-Nuan, have a drink.”

A dark, rough hand reached out from the side and snatched the bowl of congee.

“Give it back! Give it back!” The scrawny woman, like an enraged wild dog, burst out with terrifying strength and pounced on the man who had snatched the congee, fighting him. “How dare you steal my A-Nuan’s congee! How dare you!”

“Crazy woman!” The man who had snatched the congee was afraid she would knock over the bowl, so he held it high, kicking her hard while cursing, “Can’t you see your kid’s already frozen to death! She’s all purple! Get lost! Get lost!”

The woman was kicked to the ground, and the child in the swaddling clothes rolled a few times, slipping out of the fabric. The small face was a deathly purple, completely lifeless.

“A-Nuan… A-Nuan…” The woman crawled on the ground, holding the cold child in her arms, and suddenly began to cry her heart out. “My A-Nuan…”

Her hoarse cries echoed over the congee stall.

The surrounding refugees were unmoved and surged forward, holding their bowls, crowding around the congee stall, waiting for the next bowl of congee.

The inns and post stations were overcrowded. The wealthier merchants were a little better off than the refugees outside, at least they had a place to shelter from the wind and cold. But from time to time, a sharp scream would announce that some unlucky person had been robbed of their belongings in the chaos—after all, Zuo Yuesheng didn’t have enough men to be everywhere at once.

“The third wave of refugees is expected to arrive in two days.”

Zuo Yuesheng and Monk Budu sat opposite each other.

Both of their expressions were very serious.

“It’s a lot more than we budgeted for,” Monk Budu said in a low voice. “The West Sea Demons are advancing too quickly, and the Beast Taming Sect isn’t slow either. The first wave of Beast Taming Sect disciples has already clashed with the sea demons near Taiyin. The people in the surrounding cities, afraid of being caught in the crossfire, have also started to flee.”

“Three hundred and forty thousand,” Zuo Yuesheng closed his account book. “So far, the number of refugees gathered in Plum City has reached three hundred and forty thousand. If it increases any more, fights will break out soon.”

The number of refugees had already exceeded Plum City’s capacity.

The city’s food supply was rapidly dwindling, and the people were becoming increasingly restless.

“Let’s stabilize the general situation and do what Chou Bodeng instructed us to do first,” Monk Budu said.

Zuo Yuesheng nodded. “The Heavenly Works Mansion has seen the blueprints left by Young Master Chou. I need to seal off the entire Heavenly Lake Mountain. The city dwellers within a three-kilometer radius of the foot of Heavenly Lake Mountain also need to be temporarily relocated. The commotion from the Star-Setting Dial Anchor will be too great to cover up completely. The guys hiding in the dark will show themselves then… Can you hold them off?”

“I can probably hold them off for a while,” Monk Budu didn’t shy away. “But if you expect me to hold out until the end by myself, I’m afraid even burning me into a holy relic won’t be enough. It depends on whether that bull-nosed Half-Diviner can make it. If he can, then it should be fine.”

“Ghost Valley set out three days ago. You have to block the first part.”

“Alright.”

Monk Budu nodded in agreement.

Finally, he couldn’t help but shake his head and smile bitterly. “These refugees are just the first wave… How tragic. The teeming masses, bustling about, for what do they strive, for what do they contend, all in a state of boundless, endless ignorance.”

Zuo Yuesheng sighed and turned to look at the foot of the Heavenly Mountain. He could vaguely see the heads of people crowding the streets. He murmured, “A lot of people are going to die, right? It’s all blood… Tell me, what do you think Young Master Chou is trying to do by letting the situation worsen?”

“I don’t know,” Monk Budu said, turning the white bone beads on his wrist. He paused for a moment before saying, “But I’ve seen a saying in some of our Buddhist sect’s forbidden scriptures.”

“What is it?”

“Good and evil are born of each other; gods and demons are no different.”

Zuo Yuesheng’s gaze suddenly sharpened, a hint of disbelief in it. For a moment, he couldn’t say anything.

Monk Budu stood up, clasped his hands together, and bowed slightly:

“This humble monk will go and recite a few more scrolls of the Great Compassion Sutra.”

***

Black clouds hung over the main sect of the Beast Taming Sect, blurring the line between day and night. The disciples within the sect even had the illusion that the world was left with only gales and downpours. The wind and rain were ceaseless. The water level of the sea-river within the sect rose higher and higher, and the surging river water submerged the mountain peaks one by one.

The mountains were submerged in water, and the sea and rivers merged into one.

The mountain tops floated on the water’s surface, large and small, like an unprecedented chessboard.

The first batch of disciples to respond to the battle had already left the sect, riding their newly contracted flood dragons.

The remaining disciples were both terrified and excited.

You see, even the inner disciples were not all able to contract a flood dragon. However, this time, in order to deal with the aggressive invasion of the West Sea Demons, the sect master announced that everyone would be given a dragon to contract. When the first batch of disciples soared into the sky, a hundred dragons roared in unison, echoing the thunder and lightning in the clouds. The scene was indescribably magnificent.

“…I just don’t know what kind of flood dragon I’ll get. I like the green ones.”

“Green flood dragons are pretty common, right? I saw Senior Sister Mu’s flood dragon had silver scales. It was so beautiful…”

The disciples on duty at the eight trigram mountain floodgates whispered among themselves while resisting the lashing rain.

“Wake up, you guys,” someone shivered. “I don’t want to sign a contract with those flood dragons. Once you’ve contracted a flood dragon, you have to go fight those sea demons from the West Sea. That’s a war! People will die! Didn’t you see what the Western Continent Gazette said?… The West Sea Demons are as huge as mountains, coming down with icebergs. They destroy cities as they pass, and break mountains they encounter. I don’t want to go.”

“Coward!” someone immediately sneered. “Then you can just stay in the mountain gate. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, this time the sea demons are heading for the main sect. Sooner or later, you’ll have to fight them.”

The frightened person shrank his neck and couldn’t help but mutter, “Strange, how come the West Sea Demons weren’t this strong before.”

“I heard it’s because the Heaven Beyond Heavens used to suppress the Twelve Continents. The Hundred Clans of Kongsang made a deal with the Heaven Beyond Heavens, and they used the Heaven-Herding Rope to restrict the Demon Race… Well, didn’t you see, twelve years ago, the Thirty-Six Islands also communicated with the Heaven Beyond Heavens before joining forces to attack the mortal realm?” The person explaining paused, scratched his head, and added, “But, according to the White Deer Scholarly Villa, the sudden increase in the strength of these demon races is probably related to the Great Wilderness. Most likely, they have also fallen to demons… Hmph! As expected, not of our race, their hearts must be different. It’s impossible to expect demons to guard the mortal realm.”

As they spoke, a tidal wave from the river crashed down.

A dozen or so people in rain cloaks, holding lanterns, came riding the waves.

The leader shouted, “Sixteen from Stopping Clouds Peak, on duty for the hours of Xu and Hai.”

“Elder’s token!” the disciple on duty stepped forward.

A dozen or so disciples from Stopping Clouds Peak who were on rotation landed in front of them. The leader was Fang Ying, a disciple from Stopping Clouds Peak—this guy was also a famous person in the Beast Taming Sect.

When the disciple on duty saw him, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. This famous inner-sect waste from Stopping Clouds Peak was really unlucky. To be kicked out to stand guard on such a windy, rainy, and cold day.

However, this was an internal matter of Stopping Clouds Peak, and people from other peaks couldn’t say much. The disciple on duty checked the token, nodded, and handed him the magical artifact that monitored the water level of the floodgates. The two shifts changed, and the newly arrived “Stopping Clouds Peak” disciples replaced them, taking up their positions at the opening and closing of the floodgates. The previous shift of disciples was freezing from the wind and rain. As soon as the handover was complete, they hurriedly returned to their own courtyards, preparing to meditate and regulate their breathing.

They left in a hurry, and because the sky was dark, they didn’t notice that the accumulated water where the disciples of Stopping Clouds Peak, following Fang Ying, were standing, had a hint of red.

The dark red was quickly washed away by the flowing water.

The sound of water rumbled around the floodgates.

Beyond the eight trigram mountains, in the dragon-rearing pool enclosed by them, the water level had already dropped by two-thirds. The copper net hung high above the heads of the many entangled flood dragons. A silver inner pill, as bright as the moon, its brilliance passing through the gaps between the mountains, shone on the sixteen “Stopping Clouds Peak” disciples.

“It’s almost the hour of Xu.”

Fang Ying’s face was slightly pale as he looked at the person beside him.

He was a little nervous.

Fortunately, his image as a waste from Stopping Clouds Peak was deeply ingrained in people’s minds. If he could remain unfazed after being thrown out to guard the dragon gate on a rainy day, that would be strange.

“Wait a moment,” the person to his left said in a low voice. It was a woman’s voice.

The Eldest Senior Sister of Changyu Peak, Bai Chongqin.

Her Changyu Peak was one of the few remaining pro-friendship factions in the Beast Taming Sect.

Fang Ying nodded and mustered the courage to turn his gaze back to the towering mountain floodgates. As the two spoke, the brilliance of the silver dragon pill in the dragon-rearing pool flowed with the wind and rain. In the sky, amidst the layers of black clouds, lightning flashed and intertwined, as if tens of thousands of thunder palaces were brewing and about to fall.

The river waves rose one after another.

The entire area of the Beast Taming main sect suddenly became a sea.

As the lightning flashed intermittently, the glint of scales could be vaguely seen turning in the waves of the sea.

***

In the highest, highest clouds, the white clouds still flowed slowly.

The map of the West Continent’s land lay spread out. In the northwest corner, lead-gray clouds gathered, and lines of white had completely surrounded the dragon-head mountain range where the Beast Taming Sect was located. Wind, rain, thunder, beacon fires, and waves of blood drowned the ants and common folk on the land of mountains and seas. The suffering of millions, when viewed from the highest, brightest point, shrank to the size of mud tiles.

What shrouded the mountains and rivers of the West Continent were dark clouds; people could no longer speak their longings to the clouds. What swept across the mountains and rivers of the West Continent was a bitterly cold, harsh wind; the gods would no longer place their responses in the wind to blow from the high heavens to the ground.

Morning to heaven, evening to heaven, heaven and man, morning have words, evening have words[1]… All of this, from now on, was just a fragmented inscription on the Records of Ancient Stone Steles.

The era of morning and evening conversations, of gods and men never being apart, was over.

The cries on the mud tiles, the wailing on the mud pellets, could not reach the heavens.

Only the clear wind was left on the clouds, only the vast expanse.

The wind whipped the red robes, fluttering like fire.

The Divine Lord sat high in the clouds.

“I throw ten thousand gold to the wave subduer,” he used the wind as strings and played them casually, smiling to the side while singing in a clear voice, “to buy the autumn light as a guest in my hall.”

He started the tune extremely high, so high that he needed no mortal audience.

The Heavenly Dao, in blood-red robes and black hair, was by his side, gazing at his unrestrained brows and eyes, at his rapidly plucking fingertips, being his only audience. Listening to him sing his wild sorrow as wild joy, as a song above the clouds.

“To buy the autumn light, ah—”

“Autumn light—”

Shi Wuluo’s ten fingers suddenly spread wide, turning downwards.

“Will not sell to me!”

Boom!

Ten thousand thunders fell upon the West Continent!