amaotonovel Chapter 349 Who Plays the Ancient Tune of Zhaohua?
Chapter 349 Who Plays the Ancient Tune of Zhaohua?
Chapter 349 Who Plays the Ancient Tune of Zhaohua?
Inside the Tongtian Hall of the Wuyi Sect, remnants of the banquet arrangements still remained, but they had been torn to shreds by the previous fighting. Only a few palace lanterns that had miraculously survived swayed weakly in the wind and rain, reflecting the mess in the hall and making it appear even more desolate.
Even more shocking was the dragon-carved pillar in the hall. When Yu Zhenzi charged at it like a mad bull, the pillar collapsed with a crash. Now, the broken part exposed wood shavings, and a large hole appeared in the roof of the hall, through which one could see the starry sky.
The night grew deeper inside the hall, gradually enveloping everything, with only the twinkling lights shining in one corner—
It was a clean eight-immortal table with an iron charcoal brazier underneath. The brazier was filled with glowing red chestnut charcoal, which was burning brightly and occasionally crackling. A copper kettle sat steadily on the charcoal fire, its bottom gleaming from the flames and white steam rising from its spout.
Jiang Wen was sitting in the hall, his face gloomy, as if he was waiting for someone.
The martial arts tournament in Wuyishan has finally come to an end. The martial arts practitioners who bid farewell from here are all carrying unimaginable and bizarre stories, heading to every corner of the vast martial arts world, just waiting for them to spread the story of the Wuyi Sect far and wide.
Those who didn't leave, such as Gui Xinshu, Feng Daode, and Lu Feiqing, were all injured earlier and chose to stay in Xiamei Town to recuperate.
The mountain was quiet at this moment because even Jiang Wen's disciples and Lin Zhennan had temporarily left Dawang Peak at Jiang Wen's insistence. The dust and noise were washed away and the wind and smoke cleared, making the Wuyi Sect, which had been noisy for a long time, unusually quiet.
Yuan Chengzhi was also inside the hall, sitting thoughtfully, seemingly waiting for someone.
Yuan Chengzhi, who had narrowly escaped from the cliff, did not leave Wuyi Mountain immediately. Instead, he deliberately lingered on Dawang Peak, giving vague reasons for his actions. At this moment, he sat opposite Jiang Wen in the Tongtian Hall.
Based on his experience, Yu Zhenzi, who fell off the cliff, was most likely still alive. He worried that Yu Zhenzi might take his anger out on others, and deep-seated hatred was the best guide. As long as he was still on Dawang Peak, Yu Zhenzi would definitely reappear in front of him.
Luo Shuang'er was also in the hall, sitting facing Jiang Wen, but her aloof expression was lost in thought, clearly not waiting for anyone.
When all the Wuyi Sect members left Dawang Peak, only Luo Shuang'er stayed behind without saying a word. Even though Jiang Wen tried to communicate with her many times, it was to no avail. Luo Shuang'er was not like Yuan Ziyi and Yan Yongchun at all, and was willing to protect her disciples as they went down the mountain.
Jiang Wen appreciated their good intentions, but he had secretly asked Ding Dian to go and protect them. Now, even if Yu Zhenzi unexpectedly attacked the rear, Jiang Wen was sure he had enough strength to deal with it.
"...Shuangmei, it might be dangerous here tonight. Why don't you go down the mountain and wait for me? I'll come find you after this is over, okay?"
Jiang Wen's tone was almost pleading, but Luo Shuang'er listened quietly and looked at Jiang Wen.
"No. You were the one who asked me to come up the mountain in the first place. Now that we've encountered some setbacks, are you going to send me away?"
Luo Shuang'er's attitude was very firm, and even though Jiang Wen repeatedly explained his intentions, she did not back down in the slightest.
Jiang Wen turned to look at Yuan Chengzhi, ready to make the same request, but Yuan Chengzhi coughed twice, making Jiang Wen instantly understand that he had been forced to stay by him in the same way before, and there was no reason for him to leave now.
Jiang Wen sighed, slowly withdrawing his hand from adding firewood. A wisp of charcoal ash fell onto the glowing embers, instantly producing a thin wisp of smoke. He then changed his words.
“Master Yuan, you seem to be preoccupied today. If you’re tired, go and rest for a while. I’ll take over the night watch.”
Yuan Chengzhi, who had been listening intently as if lost in thought, was now somewhat embarrassed, not expecting his unusual behavior to be so obvious.
Seeing Yu Zhenzi again was a strange shock to him, as if the turbulent dreams of his first half of life had suddenly turned into a bone-chilling cold, reminding him that the past he had experienced was not a dream. At least in the past, after the passage of time, there were still some people who remembered him firmly and had never moved on.
Yu Zhenzi was filled with hatred, which allowed him to face things calmly. That intense, incomprehensible hatred would eventually seep into his bones, gnaw away his conscience, peel off his human skin, and turn Yu Zhenzi into a monster who only knew how to destroy.
Yu Zhenzi did everything without needing a reason or a goal. His only instinct was to drag everything that was still alive, still smiling, and still believed that there was even a shred of beauty in this world into the same hell as himself.
What left Yuan Chengzhi somewhat dazed was the Chongzi Battalion, which had been completely annihilated in a single battle against the elite troops of the White, Blue, and Bordered White Banners, personally commanded by Prince Ying, Ajige. Those were the men who had placed high hopes on him. He thought of Sun Zhongshou, Luo Daqian, Zhu Anguo, Ni Hao, and countless other soldiers whose names and faces he could no longer recall.
A defeated general, alas! In that great battle, even though Yuan Chengzhi killed countless enemies, he was powerless to turn the tide. He exhausted his inner strength and was hit by several arrows in the back. In the end, he collapsed to the ground and was fortunately buried by a pile of Qing soldiers' corpses, which saved his life.
People of the martial world are inherently among the most deeply entrenched in grudges. From the very first day they enter this world, they live amidst the clash of swords and the endless cycle of killing each other. If even those of the martial world can hold such deep grudges, what about those who followed them in raising the banner against the Qing dynasty? After their deaths, will they also harbor such resentment towards themselves in the afterlife?
Yuan Chengzhi suddenly asked, "He will definitely come, right?"
His voice was flat, devoid of anger or fear, only a mixture of weariness and clarity, thick with the grievances of half a lifetime.
"Master Yuan, he will definitely come."
"He was a dead man, so naturally he came with the deepest and most vicious hatred he had accumulated over decades—hatred for the living, for humanity, and for the whole world."
"He wants to watch us die, so that we can be burned to ashes with him in the end, leaving nothing behind."
Jiang Wen slowly stood up, and the Zhanlu sword seemed to emit a very faint hum at his waist.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the hall. They came very quickly, so close that one could almost hear the wind rustling the fabric of clothing.
As they approached the Tongtian Hall, the voice suddenly slowed down, stepping on the broken tiles and debris, and also on everyone's heartbeats.
Finally, the footsteps stopped at the entrance of the hall, making Jiang Wen's standing seem like a welcoming ceremony.
"Now that we're here, there's no need to hide."
………………
However, what followed was neither the murderous roar they had expected, nor the sharp clang of metal striking metal, nor even the sound of their clothes brushing against each other.
With a creak, the dilapidated palace door was gently pushed open, and a person walked in.
Unsurprisingly, the newcomer looked exactly like Dongxuan, the leader of the Xiandu Sect.
He had the same thin, refined features and the same simple, ancient face, but he was no longer wearing the tattered, pale white Taoist robe. Instead, he was wearing a gray garment that was clearly a size too big. The cuffs were loosely rolled up twice, revealing a section of pale wrist, and the hem dragged a little past his waist, so it was covered with a lot of mountain dew and mud.
He stood there at the palace gate, rubbing his hands together somewhat awkwardly, a touch of just the right amount of shyness on his face, like a traveler from a remote mountain village who had accidentally wandered into someone else's private residence.
His gaze swept over the broken walls and ruins in the hall, then fell on the three people, without the slightest surprise or malice—this action made the three people in the Tongtian Hall instantly realize that the person in front of them was not Yu Zhenzi.
Because his temperament was too serene, like a mountain stream flowing through the air, like the lingering mist of early morning, every move he made carried a kind of inexplicable reassuring and approachable charm, as if everything was meant to be this way, as if everything should have been this way all along.
Luo Shuang'er felt a chill run down her spine, as if the hairs on her body stood on end.
It was a sharp, needle-like pain that spread from the top of her head to her heels, as if countless cold, fine needles were piercing through her skin and slowly penetrating her bones.
Her body was trembling uncontrollably, not from the cold, but from the reminder of the Divine Illumination Scripture she was practicing, a kind of instinctive fear of apex predators etched into her genes.
Yuan Chengzhi was even more vigilant than she was.
He had spent half his life wandering the martial world, encountering countless masters, and even recently had a direct confrontation with Yu Zhenzi, who had gone mad with internal energy, yet he could not describe this feeling at all.
If Jiang Wen were to describe this matter, the person in front of him clearly did not exude the slightest killing intent, but his very existence was like a black hole hanging overhead, ready to collapse at any moment. In the blink of an eye, this Tongtian Palace, along with the three of them, would be reduced to nothingness without even a speck of dust.
However, Jiang Wen sat down naturally, without showing any abnormality on his face. He even smiled at the newcomer, raised his hand to indicate the empty seat opposite him, and spoke in a calm tone, as if he were greeting an old friend he hadn't seen for many years: "Distinguished guest, you have come from afar. Please have a cup of hot tea to warm yourself up."
The newcomer smiled calmly, walked a few steps to the table and sat down. His movements were so light that he made no sound. He looked exactly like Dong Xuan, but his temperament was completely opposite. He had neither the perfect hypocrisy of Fu Yushu nor the cruelty and viciousness of Yu Zhenzi.
He carefully gathered the overly long hem of his robe to his legs, then smiled sheepishly, revealing two shallow dimples: "I'm sorry to bother you all. I got lost in the mountains and saw a fire here, so I took the liberty of coming over."
Jiang Wen didn't reply. He simply picked up the copper kettle from the stove, took out a heavy teacup made of purplish-black clay, flicked his wrist to sprinkle in tea leaves, and then poured boiling water into the teacup in front of him.
The brown tea swirls in the cup, the patterns on the cup wall flowing with the flickering firelight, like a galaxy spanning the night sky. A rich and mellow tea aroma instantly fills the air, overpowering the faint smell of dust in the hall.
"Wonderful, wonderful! These luminous changes are indistinct, sometimes clear, sometimes unclear, sometimes elusive, mysterious and profound. They can be described as forms without forms, shapes without shapes..."
The visitor looked at the teacup and exclaimed in admiration, his tone full of genuine surprise: "I never expected to find such a treasure in these deep mountains—a bound-mouth Yao Bian Tenmoku teacup, originally a royal tribute. It is truly a great pleasure in life to be able to enjoy tea with it today."
Jiang Wen reached under the table and pulled out three more Yao Bian Jian ware teacups, speaking calmly.
"You have a good eye, esteemed guest. Actually, the Yohen glaze is not a natural kiln transformation, but rather a silver glaze applied by hand. It is then fired a second time by precisely controlling the glaze formula and temperature. There are some tricks to it, but once you explain them, it becomes worthless."
The visitor, however, remained solemn and took the teacup that Jiang Wen pushed towards him with both hands, holding it in his hands and smelling it carefully.
"The osmanthus fragrance is clear and penetrating, its aroma lingering and not dissipating. It is mellow and sweet upon tasting; it is indeed a fine tea. But I wonder what it is called?"
Jiang Wen smiled and replied, "The Rougui rock tea from Dawang Peak is too good for your kind guest."
The visitor sighed softly, held the teacup, gently blew on the steam, took a small sip, closed his eyes, and sighed contentedly again.
And so, the other person seemed to be immersed in the happiness of fine teaware paired with fragrant tea, savoring it and reluctant to swallow, until he recovered from his emotion and opened his eyes after a few more moments of contemplation.
The newcomer's gaze casually swept over the golden snake sword at Yuan Chengzhi's waist. He paused for a moment, then smiled and nodded, his tone still gentle and shy: "In the old land of Cangwu, there is actually such a Dragon Essence Sword."
Yuan Chengzhi was slightly surprised, knowing that the other party was referring to his Golden Snake Sword.
However, his sword came from Xia Xueyi, the Golden Snake Swordsman, who stole it from the Five Poisons Sect in Yunnan. The Five Poisons Sect only knew that it was originally one of the Three Treasures. As for how this sword came about and who forged it, almost no one in the world knew. Only the person in front of him seemed to know very well.
Seeing the other person's smile, a sense of terror spread through his body again. Yuan Chengzhi's hand gripping the sword tightened quietly, and his knuckles began to turn white. Luo Shuang'er also sensed something was wrong. She quietly placed her left hand on Han Wang Qing Dao, ready to draw her weapon at any moment.
The atmosphere inside the hall instantly became heavy, with only the crackling of the stove fire and the low bubbling of the remaining boiling water in the kettle.
Jiang Wen's smile remained unchanged. He leaned forward slightly and reached out his hand, as if to brush the dew off the other person's shoulder, and said in a natural tone, "Look, the dew on the mountain is heavy. If your clothes get wet, you'll easily catch a cold."
"Ah, no need to trouble yourself, young master!"
The newcomer smiled somewhat embarrassedly, his cheeks slightly flushed. Despite his middle-aged appearance, his expression carried a youthful shyness, and he subconsciously shrank his shoulders to the side, looking exceptionally harmless.
But just as Jiang Wen's fingertips touched his robe, a line of semi-transparent text cascaded out and suddenly appeared before Jiang Wen's eyes.
All the information on Tianyancha was filled with dense question marks, like wisps of fog that were impossible to see clearly. Only the bottom line was written in a glaring, burning blood red:
【Dongxuan (Nute)】
If you had to give it a suitable description, you might call it "the sublimation of martial arts."
Jiang Wen had seen countless people's status bars, and even the unfathomable Zhao Wuji could see a few bits of information. But this person in front of him had no information at all except for these two lines of blood-red text.
What does "Martial Arts Ascension Body" mean?
The charcoal in the stove crackled and suddenly burst into a large spark. The remaining boiling water in the copper kettle was still bubbling softly, and wisps of steam rose up, enveloping the four figures in a hazy mist.
The newcomer smiled gently, seemingly aware of the slight unease that had occurred just moments before. He simply picked up his teacup again, took a sip, and looked at Jiang Wen with clear eyes: "Young Master's tea is truly excellent. By the way, may I ask your esteemed name? Are you waiting for someone here?"
My surname is Jiang.
Jiang Wen spoke slowly, his gaze falling into the other person's clear, unfathomable eyes—
They were originally waiting for Yu Zhenzi, the demon filled with hatred and determined to destroy everything, but what came seemed to be something a hundred times more terrifying than Yu Zhenzi.
Jiang Wen then calmly withdrew his hand, turned his head and lowered his eyes, using the fire poker to slowly stir the chestnut charcoal in the basin.
"They're probably waiting for Godot."