Food Immortal Master

"Did you forget the seed was on it? It must have gone back to complete the Torchworld Cult's ritual."

"Mm, then you're safe."

"I'm coming too."

"Huh?" Pei Ye sat up straight. "Why are you volunteering to get yourself killed?"

"Didn't you ask me to save you?"

"Ah..." Pei Ye was a little touched. "You don't have to risk your life coming here."

"We share a Shared Fate of Flourishing and Decline. Besides, if the Torchworld Cult's scheme succeeds, I won't escape either."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Play it by ear. The main thing is..." Black Chi hesitated. For the first time, Pei Ye heard a hint of embarrassment in its voice. "I ran too far away earlier. I might not get there in time."

"..."

"And I don't know the way."

"Fine, take your time, then. If you find out I've died while you're halfway here, just turn around on the spot," Pei Ye said irritably.

As their conversation ended, Zhang Siche had already returned victorious and was stepping into the grotto. He shook the blood from his hands. This fight had still been no more than a leisurely stroll through a courtyard to him.

"Your turn this time," he said with a smile.

At the same moment, the black-robed man's voice rang out. "Next pair: [twenty-four], [twenty-eight]."

Pei Ye stood and left the grotto. The night was entering its darkest hour.

His opponent this time was an old man-the father he had looked over when he first entered the grotto.

He walked the same path again. This time, the Purple-Robed Man's corpse had finally been removed.

Reaching the familiar grounds, the two entered the Flame Arena.

The old man's muscles were not particularly developed, and he had been injured in the first round. To have made it this far, he either possessed superb martial skills or an exceptionally outstanding Cocoon of Light in his abdomen.

Pei Ye cautiously settled into his fighting stance. If his previous two enemies had been a giant bear and a spider, then what he faced now was an old wolf.

Despite the arena's maddening stimulation, both watched their opponent with tremendous patience. Neither struck rashly.

In the end, Pei Ye broke the stalemate first, crossing the arena and driving a fist straight at the old man's sinister face.

The old man reached out and guided his arm aside, dissipating its force, then jabbed two fingers toward the crook of Pei Ye's elbow.

The old man was not someone accustomed to relying on true qi in combat. Clearly, he had lived through a long stretch of turbulent years before his Dantian Seed sprouted, and had studied fighting between "landlubbers" in great depth.

And this was precisely Pei Ye's strength.

Pei Ye ducked, slipped beneath the old man's arm like a loach, and kicked backward viciously at his shin. The old man pivoted on his left foot and lifted his right to evade the kick. Rather than putting it down, he kicked back at Pei Ye's supporting foot.

In an instant, their legs had exchanged more than a dozen dazzling moves.

Pei Ye had youth, quick reactions, and ample strength on his side; the old man had seasoned cunning, hiding three traps in every move and thinking three steps ahead with each step he took.

Fists, legs, palms, fingers... the two exchanged over a hundred moves, each gaining and losing ground, neither able to break away.

Ever since his Dantian Seed ruptured, Pei Ye had not enjoyed such a thoroughly satisfying hand-to-hand fight in a long time. Though he had Quail Head to rely on now, his pride made him unwilling to use it. He insisted on defeating this man with his fists and feet alone.

Sure enough, as they exchanged more and more moves, the advantage began to tilt toward Pei Ye. It was not a matter of stamina: sustained by the deep-blue liquid, both had plenty to spare.

Rather, the old man's advantage lay in the painstaking insights gained from hundreds, even thousands of battles. He possessed many techniques and routines Pei Ye had never heard of, never seen, or even imagined. Pei Ye was repeatedly caught off guard, relying on his reflexes several times to lessen the damage.

As the fight wore on, however, the old man's routines gradually ran out, while Pei Ye's defenses grew more complete. Pei Ye's superior reactions now came to the fore, and the old man began to struggle to fend him off on every side.

At last, all those minor setbacks and tiny openings accumulated and erupted. Pei Ye drove a full-force punch squarely into the old man's chest.

His short, thin body flew several yards and slammed heavily to the ground.

The outcome was decided.

The old man lay on the ground and no longer rose to resist. After two great, gasping breaths, he spoke his first words in a hoarse voice. "Fine skills."

Pei Ye smiled. He, too, was quite satisfied to have fought a proper arena bout here, and had no desire to inflict needless cruelty or humiliation on his opponent.

He walked slowly over, concentrated his strength in his fist, and aimed at the old man's throat.

Suddenly, everything changed!

The old man's fallen body sprang up like a venomous snake, and the cold gleam in his hand was its ghastly white fang!

Having endured the old man's tricks throughout the entire fight, Pei Ye had not failed to guard against a feigned surrender. But this piece of iron, honed to an incredibly sharp edge and thrust straight at his throat, was something he had never anticipated.

At that hairbreadth moment, Black Chi, who had been watching all along, activated Quail Head for him directly.

Everything seemed still. Pei Ye tilted his head aside to evade it, then shattered the old man's throat with a punch.

The little iron shard fell. Pei Ye caught it soundlessly and tucked it into his mouth.

Carrying a sharp weapon was, of course, against the rules. The old man's faith was clearly not devout enough. Had he hidden this little shard to survive a few more rounds? Or had he intended to do something to certain people in the final scene?

Pei Ye could no longer find out. Through the curtain of fire, the black-robed man outside could not make out the details within, and Pei Ye would not report this "faithless one" to him.

Now, this object that sullied the ritual's purity had merely passed from the hands of one "faithless one" into those of another.

The tentacles shot out from his abdomen. Another ravenous feast, another rise in level, another surge in strength.

Only two rounds remained. If he wanted to carry out his own plan, he would have to act in the next round; if he wanted to wait for Zhu Gaoyang, he could only win the next round as usual.

Weighing his options, Pei Ye walked out of the arena. Suddenly, a rushing wind sounded overhead, as though something enormous were beating its wings. He looked up and saw two tiny points of gold flash across the night sky.

Qiongqi had returned.

Back in the grotto, the remaining people could be counted on his fingers. Everyone was silent except Zhang Siche.

"You took so long I was worried you were done for."

"Nearly." Pei Ye discreetly tucked the iron shard behind his waist. "If we each win one more round, will the final fight be between us?"

"Yes." Zhang Siche sighed, then continued through voice transmission. "I've thought it over. I'd better give you this artifact."

"?"

"Think about it. Zhu Gaoyang already knows me, so he'll naturally take me with him. But he doesn't know you. At that critical moment, how would I have time to tell him to bring someone else?"

"But if you use this artifact, it'll identify you. Then he won't overlook you."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me. I've already thought of a brilliant solution."

"..."

Sad news: I have to go away for four or five days next week, so I need to build up a backlog over these next two days.

There'll only be one chapter today and tomorrow. Two chapters a day will resume on Sunday.

Even at only four thousand characters a day, I can't build up a backlog. Parrot Bites Tongue, when will you ever manage ten thousand a day?

Chapter 46: Revenge

"Here, this is the artifact." Zhang Siche took Pei Ye's wrist and guided his hand toward his own stomach.

Pei Ye touched a sheet of belly skin.

Then that belly skin collapsed.

Pei Ye stared at Zhang Siche, his eyes wide.

"Shh!"

Beneath the skin was a warm abdominal cavity. It was an unimaginable wound: his abdomen had been almost entirely mangled, concealed beneath nothing more than a sheet of skin.

Pei Ye could not understand how he had chatted and laughed so easily, and even fought three bouts, with an injury like this.

From that bloody mess of an abdominal cavity, Pei Ye took out a small iron talisman.

"I'll pass you some true qi as well. When the time comes, just pour it into the talisman to activate it." Holding his wrist, Zhang Siche guided the true qi over. "Once you activate it, no one will be able to hurt you for at least ten breaths."

"But I have to tell you a cruel truth," he added, looking somewhat ashamed. "As we said earlier, the more people we take, the longer Luminous Spirit Illuminates the World, Unbound by Dust takes to prepare. So Zhu Gaoyang may not have time to bring you along. You might have to rely on this artifact and escape on your own in the chaos."

Pei Ye nodded and offered his sincere thanks.

He had never expected to do nothing and have a god descend from heaven to rescue him without so much as a scratch.

With this artifact, Pei Ye officially abandoned his bizarre idea of playing dead and decided to escape in coordination with Zhu Gaoyang's attack.

"Soon now," he sighed.

"Yes. So I'd better hurry up with the story." Zhang Siche patted his shoulder. "We've only reached the tenth installment. I'll have to abridge the rest."

The trial went extremely smoothly. Witnesses and physical evidence were all present. Though Gao Muzhen cursed and threatened in anguish, he could not stop the execution tally marked "behead" from being cast down from the bench.

The scholar's tearful bows of gratitude needed no recounting. Li Zhang also recovered the pearl and returned it to him.

The pearl remained pure and radiant, but to the scholar, seeing it now only brought back memories of its owner. After another bout of bitter weeping, he insisted on giving it to Xi Wuchou.

A day later, Gao Muzhen was publicly beheaded at the street entrance. To preserve the princely household's dignity, his identity was still not announced, but neither Xi Wuchou nor the scholar cared about such trifling details anymore.

Xi Wuchou comforted the scholar, saying that he would introduce him to a divine physician who could heal his fingers. He urged him not to let his ambitions fall, but to continue pursuing success in the imperial examinations.

The scholar nodded through his tears.

The two parted there. The scholar returned to town, while Xi Wuchou built a hut in the nearby mountains to settle his mind and prepare to break through.

Setting aside worldly thoughts, Xi Wuchou gave himself freely to nature each day, seeking that thread of transcendence amid shimmering lakes and mountain scenery.

After four or five days of this, Xi Wuchou had reached a state in which he could freely follow his heart. He no longer needed to deliberately withdraw from the world, but simply obeyed his innermost wishes and acted as he pleased.

Sometimes he danced with his sword on a mountaintop on a rainy night; sometimes he helped an old farmer hoe his fields at dusk. At times he spent a night dead drunk in a tavern, and at others he fished on the lake all day.

One day, Xi Wuchou suddenly missed that old friend buried nine years earlier in a southwestern mountain town. This naturally brought the scholar to mind, so he took a roast chicken and some wine and went to find him for a chat.

Arriving in Kuiju Town, he went straight to the little courtyard at the edge of town. Yet no one answered his repeated calls. He pushed open the gate and found the courtyard empty.

He was just leaving to search elsewhere when an old man suddenly threw his arms around his legs and cried, "Benefactor! At last, I've waited long enough to see you!"

The old man was the scholar's father-in-law. He said that a few days earlier, several people had come and carried the scholar off bound. They had no accents and wore ordinary clothes. He had reported it to the authorities, but still had heard nothing.

Xi Wuchou immediately agreed to take on the matter. Drawing on the skills he had used during his service at the Immortal Platform, he searched carefully for gossamer clues and made inquiries at the magistrate's office. In the end, every thread seemed to point faintly toward the Prince of Zhenbei Residence.

This was rather puzzling. Could the Prince of Zhenbei Residence truly be so petty that they would vent their anger on a scholar without rank?