Chapter 74: Passed Out at the Foot of the Mountain

The wind and rain dispersed.

Autumn Moon Market’s river was a complete mess. Many spots along both banks had been smashed in, but fortunately, the houses beside them weren’t hurt.

It was time for Moyuan to finish his Water Crossing. He couldn’t delay it anymore. After telling the gentleman, he followed the river toward the great river. This time, Zhao Yuqing didn’t try to stop him; he only watched quietly.

The black flood dragon’s figure grew farther and farther away until it vanished from sight.

“Drip… drip…”

Rainwater fell from the eaves, making dripping sounds.

Zhao Yuqing stepped forward, coming to Chen Changsheng’s side.

“You won again.”

Zhao Yuqing spoke, adding, “One sentence from the ‘Dragon Scripture’ shattered my Immortal Sword Immortal. Besides you, no one else in this world could manage something like that.”

Chen Changsheng looked at him. “If you hadn’t held back, how would he have survived this disaster?”

Who was Zhao Yuqing? Lord of Cloud Floating Mountain. A Demon Sovereign who single-handedly destroyed two great factions. A mere flood dragon that hadn’t undergone Transformation (into human form)? If he truly wished to slay it, one casual strike of his sword would have been enough.

From start to finish, he didn’t really care whether this flood dragon lived or died. He’d only wanted to match powers with Chen Changsheng. But when Chen Changsheng didn’t take action, Zhao Yuqing stopped then and there.

The reason was simple: Chen Changsheng wanted this flood dragon to live.

Compared to not knowing him, Zhao Yuqing didn’t want to build resentment with him over this.

He looked toward the river and raised his hand.

The Immortal Sword, split into two halves, flew up from beneath the river water and landed in his palm.

“What a pity.”

Zhao Yuqing sighed deeply. “This sword stayed with me the longest.”

Chen Changsheng looked at the sword in his hand. “You don’t lack a sword like this. Why did you want to sacrifice the flood dragon to it?”

“A gift.”

Zhao Yuqing sighed lightly and looked at Chen Changsheng.

His gaze was profound, the previous anger gone, replaced by unusual calm.

Chen Changsheng’s heart lurched slightly as their eyes met.

Zhao Yuqing stretched out his hand, offering the broken sword.

Chen Changsheng did not take it.

Then, Zhao Yuqing’s voice was heard: “Three hundred years after you left, I borrowed the Fate Stone of Tianji Mountain just to learn a thing or two about you. I returned wishing to use this flood dragon to complete the sword, repaying the debt I owed you. Who knew you already had an Immortal Sword in hand? And… that you don’t want this one of mine.”

He sighed. “Forget it, forget it. I’ll repay the debt somewhere else.”

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng frowned.

“What happened back then? What debt did you owe me? Who was I originally?”

Questions filled Chen Changsheng’s mind. This feeling of being kept in the dark really gnawed at him.

Once, twice, three times, four times…

It felt like Heaven was playing a joke on him.

“Who are you?”

Zhao Yuqing suddenly laughed upon hearing this.

“Who could you be? You’re Chen Changsheng! There may be thousands of Immortals in the heavens, but the Path of Immortality… exists only in you.”

After speaking, Zhao Yuqing stepped away, transforming into a wisp of smoke.

He clarified nothing, seeing no point – remembering the past or not, the people and events were already gone from this world. What was done couldn’t be undone. Speaking of it now would only add nothing but trouble.

Chen Changsheng didn’t stop him, watching as that wisp of smoke faded away.

He stood alone on the riverbank for a long time.

It seemed everyone in this world knew him, yet he knew none of them.

Who was Yu Xuan? Who was Hu Yu? What relationship did Zhao Yuqing have with him? What did the Old Dragon King know?

Where did the method come from? Where did the spirits come from?

The answers seemed almost within reach, yet he couldn’t grasp them.

As if fated, he wasn’t supposed to know any of this.

“Just what happened?”

Chen Changsheng muttered, frowning, but got no answer.

The Old Dragon King descended the pavilion to the riverbank of Autumn Moon Market.

He came to Chen Changsheng’s side and gently reminded him: “The rain has stopped, sir. It’s time to go.”

Yet just as his words fell…

A sudden sword cry was heard!

“Shwing!”

The Rain-Listening Sword transformed into a glimmering streak and landed in Chen Changsheng’s hand.

The sword came to a halt, pressed against the Old Dragon King’s neck.

The abrupt turn of events stunned the Old Dragon King. He glanced down at his neck, but felt no fear, just great calm.

“Sir, do you mean to kill me?” the Old Dragon King asked.

“Tell me!” Chen Changsheng’s voice was icy cold. “Everything you know!”

Gone was Chen Changsheng’s usual gentle look. Now he was full of malice, his eyes utterly cold.

The Old Dragon King did not speak, just looked quietly at Chen Changsheng. He didn’t get angry; showed understanding instead.

He reached out and pushed aside the blade at his neck.

“This is the first time someone has held a sword to this old man’s neck.”

The Old Dragon King looked at Chen Changsheng. “But if it’s you… I have no complaint.”

The Rain-Listening Sword lowered.

The cold look in Chen Changsheng’s eyes slowly faded as he snapped back to himself.

Chen Changsheng now seemed utterly dejected, stripped of all his vigor.

The Old Dragon King began, “You need to discover everything for yourself, sir. Of the full story, I know only two parts. I can’t speak of it. Dare not speak of it.”

Chen Changsheng sheathed the Rain-Listening Sword.

A long time later, he lifted his head. “My apology…”

The Old Dragon King smiled. “A cup of wine, sir. Will you drink?”

Chen Changsheng lifted his gaze to meet his.

Under the night sky.

Their figures reflected in the large puddles on the ground.

The dark clouds overhead parted.

The moonlight left two long shadows stretching across the wet earth.

…

“The rain stopped!”

Tong Zhihuan saw not a trace of wind or rain at the horizon.

He asked the young lady beside him, “Miss Tao’er, sir should be alright, right?”

Tao’er shook her head. “Dunno. How could I see that far?”

“You really can’t?” Tong Zhihuan blinked.

Miss Tao’er also blinked. “Do I look all-powerful to you?”

Tong Zhihuan looked at Miss Tao’er. “Guess not…”

“Silly.”

“Miss Tao’er, honestly, I’m not really that dumb.”

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“Silly.”

“Sigh…”

Tong Zhihuan scratched his head. He wasn’t normally like this, but somehow, whenever he talked with Miss Tao’er, he felt foolish and acted foolishly.

“Sir will probably be back soon. Let’s wait.”

Miss Tao’er said this, and the two began waiting in front of the Taoist Temple gate.

…

The two waited until midnight. Tong Zhihuan yawned repeatedly, but there was no sign of the gentleman.

Tong Zhihuan gave another big yawn. “Is he… not coming back?”

Miss Tao’er was about to reply when a glance down the mountain path caught her eye.

“Sir reached the foot of the mountain!”

“Where? Miss Tao’er, I thought you couldn’t see far?”

“Silly! Go meet him!”

The two quickly went from the temple gate down the mountain.

But at the foot, they beheld an unexpected scene.

Their gentleman was lying on the ground at the foot of the mountain, completely dead drunk. His robes were soaked through, both shoes caked in mud.

It appeared…

He had passed out drunk!

This was likely the most undignified moment ever seen of the gentleman.