Food Immortal Master

The voice rang like a mighty bell and a great chime, and Zhu Gaoyang suddenly came to his senses.

He jolted. The real scene entered his awareness, and as he looked blankly around, the memories of what had just happened flooded his mind.

Before him lay a scene out of hell. A huge millstone had smashed into the doorway, reducing the entire house to collapsed rubble. Blood was still slowly seeping out beneath it.

On the wall beside him, flesh and blood were thickly plastered in a vaguely human shape. On the ground at his feet lay small, torn-off limbs.

Zhu Gaoyang began trembling all over.

He looked at his bloodstained claws, feeling as though everything had happened in a dream.

"Do you want this to happen?" a gentle voice asked.

The voice had a remarkable power to soothe. Zhu Gaoyang turned blankly. "What?"

The entire scene faded away.

He was still standing outside the brushwood gate. The man inside had collapsed to the ground and was waving his hands in terror, crawling backward as he shouted for his wife and child not to come out.

The black-robed man's hand rested on him.

Zhu Gaoyang looked down.

The man was in his fifties or sixties, about as tall as Zhu Gaoyang had been a day earlier. His lean figure had an air of antiquity and ethereal detachment, yet his back stood straight as a pine, his bearing unmistakably noble.

His eyes were bright, his nose straight, his brows like swords. One could imagine the stern gravity of his frown, yet also see the profound calm and gentleness with which he would instruct the younger generation.

He was unfathomable, of course, but Zhu Gaoyang sensed no danger from him. He even had something of a scholar's air-his other hand held a book with a damaged cover and yellowed pages, but the binding thread along its spine was new, and the pages were neatly aligned. Clearly, a disordered ancient volume had been painstakingly rebound.

A small pocket had been sewn onto the chest of the old man's black robe. Ink stains along its edge robbed the garment of much of its dignity. Two strange, complicated bamboo pens stood inside, with only a third of their length showing.

For a moment, Zhu Gaoyang almost felt that a scholar of the classics from the Imperial College stood before him.

"I have two small gifts. Sorry for the trouble, but I'd like you to deliver them for me," the old man said.

"May I ask who you are, senior...?" The shock of that scene had yet to fade. Every detail had been so vivid that Zhu Gaoyang even wondered whether it had actually happened.

The old man did not answer. With a slight smile, he said something astonishing. "The first small gift is for your divine master."

He was not seeking Zhu Gaoyang's consent at all, merely offering a courteous notification. Before Zhu Gaoyang could ask anything, the old man patted him, sending something into his body.

"You needn't do anything. It will go where it belongs."

Chapter 66: Purpose

Zhu Gaoyang fell into a grave silence. His legs tensed, his claws curling slightly.

"The second was a last-minute decision... because I originally thought the one coming here would be that young man... but since it's Young Master Zhu-don't move." The old man gave a light squeeze, and Zhu Gaoyang's arm immediately went weak and numb.

He pointed into the courtyard and lifted his brown eyes in warning. "The moment you leave this hand of mine, the scene you just saw will happen."

Zhu Gaoyang quieted down.

"No need to be nervous." The old man lowered his head again, gently stroking and examining the hideous arm in his hand. "Where was I... ah, yes. The second small gift."

"I originally thought that young man would come here, which would have been of little value. But since you're the foremost disciple of Dragon Lord Dongting's sword lineage, I can give you a chance."

"What chance?"

"A chance to escape the fate you just saw."

"What's the price?"

"We'll discuss that later."

"I refuse."

"Heh heh heh." The old man chuckled softly, his wrinkles curving into gentle little furrows. "You can't."

"The second gift is both for you and for Dragon Lord Dongting-and that little gift is you." The index finger of the hand resting on Zhu Gaoyang's monstrous arm tapped lightly, and a miracle unfolded before Zhu Gaoyang's widening pupils.

He had never truly fought Qiongqi, nor had he seen the Immortal Lord after the eighth growth. This was his first glimpse of such power over flesh and blood.

But even Pei Ye, who had seen it several times, could not have faced this sight without astonishment.

For this manipulation was not simply liquefying flesh and blood to hide or evade attacks, as before. It targeted their smallest components, separating them bit by bit, changing their properties, and combining them anew.

Give different people a knife and a radish, and one could only hack it into two uneven pieces, another could peel it, another could cut it into fine strands, while yet another could carve magnificent towers and jade palaces.

It was a treatment of the utmost delicacy and precision, far more sophisticated than turning a tiger's body into internal organs that day.

Under this treatment, Zhu Gaoyang watched in astonishment as his body underwent a tremendous change.

Bone spurs withdrew beneath his flesh, while his scales melted into liquid and seeped into his skin. The Dark Blue covering his whole body faded, revealing fair skin and muscle as his body gradually returned to its original appearance.

No, it was not a restoration, but an entirely new reconstruction.

The Dark Blue substance was compressed into a lump and buried inside his heart.

Only then did the old man's intent, slightly furrowed brows relax. He exhaled softly; clearly, even for him, this work had not been easy. With a light laugh, he asked, "Well? How do you like this gift?"

He took a pen from his breast pocket and a small notebook from his robe, then jotted down a few brief lines.

"One really does have to try..." he murmured to himself. Putting away the pen and notebook, he noticed Zhu Gaoyang staring at his breast pocket and explained with another smile, "Bamboo pens. I made a few little improvements. Inject ink into the tube, and there's no need to carry an inkwell. Unfortunately, they keep leaking. I've been thinking perhaps I ought to add a cap..."

"Oh, forgive me. Old people do tend to ramble." The old man smiled apologetically. "You have urgent business, and I'll be off to catch a few little animals shortly. Let's talk another time."

Without waiting for Zhu Gaoyang to answer, he raised his loosely curled hand and gently spread his fingers.

There seemed to be a faint pop. The Dark Blue inside Zhu Gaoyang's heart surged into his blood vessels like a wild beast released from its enclosure, flooding his limbs in an instant. The hideous mutations returned to his body.

At the same time, the Spirit in Zhu Gaoyang's mind sank into shadow.

He raised his indifferent golden eyes toward Fenghuai-there lay something his divine master wanted.

Beside him, a black-robed figure sat back down on the stone and opened the ancient book in his hands. Zhu Gaoyang glanced at him, then looked away.

A bent strip of beef jerky, he thought.

Fenghuai, the County Office.

Deputy Prefect Xu Weizhou, who had come from the prefectural seat, had arrived after Jing Ziwang's sudden death. Informed that morning that Pei Ye and the others had returned to the County Office, he had just hurried back from White Bamboo Village.

This vice prefect was much younger than Jing Ziwang, and was truly the foremost grandmaster in Bowang Prefecture.

Elegant and handsome, he came from a distinguished family and had studied under a major sect. At thirty-six, he had ascended the second level of the Profound Gate's jade steps, then used his family's political resources to secure a senior prefectural post. He was a perfect version of Shen Yanping.

Only he, Xing Zhi, Chang Zhiyuan, and Pei Ye were in the room, but just three of them spoke.

"This talk of a 'divine descent' is altogether too nebulous," the vice prefect said, tapping the table lightly. "All you've actually confirmed is that the seed can control people's minds, correct? Throughout six thousand years of history, countless occultists have sought immortality and the Way, yet no one has ever heard of any actual immortals."

"It's only a name." Xing Zhi clearly agreed on that point. "We aren't saying an immortal has descended to earth. But a powerful will has indeed awakened within that seed, and it is inextricably linked to the 'Immortal Lord' worshipped by the Torchworld Cult. Whether it is an 'immortal' doesn't matter, so long as you do not doubt its power, Deputy Prefect Xu."

"Of course I trust your judgment, Master Xing, and... Bright Sword Master's." Xu Weizhou nodded. "But whether it's powerful hardly matters to us now. What's done is done. The seed has awakened, and we lack the strength to hunt it down in the mountains... Master Xing."

Xing Zhi glanced at him. "I know, Deputy Prefect Xu. I'm not asking you to go into the mountains to find Senior Brother Zhu. He's already dead."

Xu Weizhou squeezed his teacup and smiled awkwardly. "Ah, Young Master Zhu is blessed with great fortune..."

"What I'm saying," Xing Zhi interrupted, "is that without knowing its purpose, we cannot anticipate its movements. How do you know it won't come to Fenghuai?"

"...What other purpose could it have? Naturally, after awakening, it will want to grow stronger as quickly as possible. Why would it come looking for us?"

"It can grow rapidly by devouring."

"But what-" Xu Weizhou had barely begun before his face turned deathly pale. "Master Xing, please don't joke."

Xing Zhi finished her point. "How many people are there in Fenghuai County?"

"More than thirty-two thousand in the town," Chang Zhiyuan said.

"Word just came from the prefectural seat that the Vermilion Bird has been released. Someone from the Divine Capital could arrive as early as tonight. And since that Immortal Lord didn't pursue you last night, perhaps it has no such intention. Even in the worst case, let it swallow people one by one to its heart's content-how many could die before someone arrives from the Divine Capital?" Xu Weizhou drained his tea. "There's no need to frighten ourselves."

Pei Ye frowned. Xing Zhi likewise took a sip of tea, her face expressionless.

-Even if only five people die, that is still your dereliction of duty, Deputy Prefect Xu.

The vice prefect's post carried no standing authority; it existed to retain powerful experts for emergencies. Yet when she had passed through the Prefectural City on her way to Fenghuai, she had already learned that this man treated the position entirely as a convenience for his pleasures. When Fenghuai's urgent report arrived that day, he had been holding a literary gathering aboard a pleasure boat, drinking himself senseless with a crowd of young gentlemen and ladies.

Had he come with Jing Ziwang that day, matters would not have deteriorated so swiftly. Even a single day's delay would have given the Divine Capital time to respond.

"I have a proposal." She set down her teacup. "Deputy Prefect Xu, please enter the mountains alone. If you encounter Qiongqi, lure it in another direction to buy time for Fenghuai."

Chapter 67: Seeking Vengeance

Xu Weizhou's face abruptly took on a livid hue. He lowered his voice. "What sort of joke is this, Master Xing? Even Bright Sword Master couldn't stand against it. How am I supposed to lead it around?"

"This isn't a question of whether you have the ability, Deputy Prefect Xu. You've been an official of the Great Tang for three years. Is your brain still back on the Southern Peak of Kunlun?" Xing Zhi said coldly.

It was the first time Pei Ye had seen Xing Zhi so merciless. He wondered whether a Black-Sashed Warlock of the Immortal Platform outranked a prefecture's vice prefect. Glancing at the silent Chang Zhiyuan, he pondered the question with his meager common knowledge.

"This is your duty, and only you can do it. You're an imperial official drawing a salary. Now that danger is upon us, if you refuse to face it because you lack the ability, who has the ability to take your place? Commissioner Zhao? The army advisers? Magistrate Chang? The soldiers? Surely not Fenghuai's thirty thousand people?"

Xu Weizhou's face grew still more livid, with a tinge of pallor besides. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Bright Sword Master! Someone like Bright Sword Master, she could-"

Halfway through, Xu Weizhou realized his mistake. He broke off and lowered his head, turning his teacup between his fingers in silence.

Xing Zhi gave him a cold look and let out a short laugh. "I had no idea the Kunlun Sunlit Palace possessed such confidence. Or perhaps your Xu family has two more heads apiece than everyone else-to dare ask the Sword Lord's sole beloved disciple to die in your place, Xu Weizhou."

Those words truly left Xu Weizhou ashamed and angry. The earlier remarks had been one thing; he knew perfectly well that he had come here to enjoy himself. Had he genuinely wanted to advance his career, would someone with his qualifications need to come to this remote prefecture?

During his pleasure-seeking in the Prefectural City, he had long since grown numb to people pointing accusing fingers at his back. A few words from Xing Zhi meant little. His earlier expression had merely reflected the pressure of the dire situation.

But his family background, upbringing, sect, and talent-the very things that gave him such superiority and composure when dealing with others-being mocked like this did genuinely anger him. Yet he had nowhere to vent it. He had said something foolish first, and beside Bright Sword Master, those things truly were no more than a heap of mud.

Watching Lord Xu's expression from the side, Pei Ye thought that he probably could not master Clouded Sky Obscures Eyes, Lost Feathers.

When it came to "stripping everything away," the lighter and fewer those things were, the easier success became. He himself had been destitute at the time. No wonder Grandpa Yue had said, "At least now you have a chance of learning it."

But surely the things Grandpa Yue had stripped away back then far exceeded even what this Deputy Prefect Xu possessed?

At that thought, Pei Ye looked up at the sky. He felt it was about time for the old man to wake. He had already said everything he needed to say; he could leave the subsequent response to "those who eat meat to devise."

He stood and bowed to the three officials, taking his leave.

He fetched a basin of hot water from the boiler room, but as he carried it across the courtyard, the number of people gathered beneath the pear tree startled him. Clerks from both the county and the Prefectural City huddled together, speaking in low voices. They were so quiet that Pei Ye almost wondered whether he had come to the wrong place.

He looked at them curiously, found a familiar face, and asked softly, "What are you doing?"