Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
“Zhao Yang, get up!” The voice of Scholar Xiu rang out from outside the window.
Zhao Yang looked up at the eaves and realized that it was already bright outside. He hadn’t noticed that he had been cultivating all night long. They had taken over Song Qianqiu’s small courtyard, with Scholar Xiu and Long Xiao Wu each occupying a room while they had driven Song Qianqiu out. The two maidservants were sleeping in the fourth side room.
Zhao Yang dispersed a corner of the Imperial Scripture's technique, and the remnants of crimson gold instantly vanished, restoring him to his original state. He got up and pushed open the door, but the sudden glare of sunlight made it difficult for him to open his eyes. It felt as if he hadn’t seen light in a long time. Zhao Yang recalled the fleeting glimpse of the woman in black from last night, still feeling a lingering fear.
“What’s wrong, Zhao Yang? Why do you look so pale?” Scholar Xiu asked with concern.
Zhao Yang shook his head. “I’m fine. I just learned too much in one night and feel a bit tired. Today’s challenge will be no problem; let’s get ready to set off, or they’ll say I fled without a fight.”
Scholar Xiu looked at Zhao Yang with a strange expression, sensing something was off. However, since Zhao Yang said he was fine and he couldn’t see any abnormalities, he felt somewhat relieved.
At that moment, Zhao Yang felt neither joy nor sorrow; he was deep in thought about what had happened last night and how he felt when he saw Scholar Xiu—suddenly perceiving the hearts of others. Everything around him played out in his mind; there were too many images and pieces of information for him to process all at once, and he needed time to adapt.
When Zhao Yang arrived at the Offering Camp challenge arena, he saw countless female disciples cheering for him, while a few male disciples were also shouting his name, though it didn’t seem like a warm welcome.
“Look at him! He’s handsome, but who would have thought he’s such an idiot? It’s heartbreaking to see such a suicidal act,” one female disciple gushed.
“Sigh, just a fool. You can tell by his dazed expression that he must have grown up on pig milk powder. What a pity,” another disciple remarked.
“Come on, come on! Let’s place bets! The rules are to guess in which round Zhao Yang will fall and which Grand Offering will defeat him. If you guess right, you win ten times your bet! If someone bets on Zhao Yang winning, it’s one hundred times your bet for each match won!” someone announced as they started gambling.
Long Xiao Wu heard this and hurried over, saying, “Hey brother, I want to place a bet—two Yuan Yang Sacred Fruits!”
"Xiao Wu, didn't you say you didn't have any left? You ungrateful thing, you must return the one you took from me!" Scholar Xiu shouted as he chased after Long Xiao Wu.
Zhao Yang stared blankly at them, then glanced at all those who were excitedly discussing, some looking at him while others ignored him.
"Look at him, he actually seems quite pitiful. Sigh, such a handsome young man, relying on the support of the Three Elders, he doesn't know how high the sky is and challenges the Inner Courtyard's Nine Great Offerings. I fear he'll end up regretting it."
"With that dazed look on his face, he probably has already lost control of himself. I've heard that when people realize they are about to die, they become weak and lose all sense of bodily functions."
"I heard he's a Mixed Spiritual Root waste, yet he's called the tyrant of the Outer Sect."
"I think he's more like a turtle, haha!"
The crowd buzzed with chatter, their voices noisy with laughter and insults, all mocking him. Zhao Yang paid no mind; he slowly walked through the crowd, seemingly recalling a scene from his past life. He stood amidst the throngs in a bustling marketplace, surrounded by the shouts of vendors, women haggling over vegetables, and the raucous voices of quarrelsome women. The sounds of laughter from young people in nearby taverns drifted past his ears and into his mind.
Zhao Yang slowly raised his head and looked toward the southern sky. Some people followed his gaze and were surprised to see a group flying overhead; it was the high-ranking members of the Inner Courtyard, including Master of the Myriad Spirits Sect Ji Wudao. They flew over the heads of the crowd and landed on the Viewing Platform, their radiant aura gradually fading to reveal their true forms.
At the forefront was Ji Wudao, a handsome middle-aged man with a slightly pale face. Beside him were five elders. The Grand Elder had white hair and long eyebrows but was clearly blind as his eyes lacked pupils, only showing white. The Second Elder was Duan Wude, dressed in an extravagant robe with an air of arrogance. The Third Elder and Fourth Elders also exuded an ethereal presence with sharp gazes; their cultivation levels were both at the late Core Formation Stage. The Fifth Elder had died in an incident involving a sect disciple's betrayal a hundred years ago, while the Sixth Elder was a beautiful Female Daoist.
When Zhao Yang saw a stunning girl next to the Female Daoist, he couldn't help but be taken aback. This girl resembled someone he had seen in a dream last night—a powerful woman in black robes who seemed to have discovered him through ten thousand years of void with just one glance that nearly shattered his Divine Soul!
This girl before him bore some resemblance to that woman in black; aside from their age difference, they both shared an icy demeanor and unparalleled beauty. However, this girl had delicate features that did not instill fear like the black-robed woman did—who radiated an overwhelming aura of dominance and arrogance. Zhao Yang even suspected that a fragment of the Imperial Scripture might have originated from that black-robed woman; perhaps she was an Empress!
"Hmph, turns out he's just another lecher; look how long he's been staring at Sister Qingsnow without blinking!"
Amidst the myriad of messages flooding his mind, Zhao Yang caught a particular phrase. If anyone could comprehend his feelings at that moment, they would likely have gone mad; the sheer volume of information crashing into his brain was far beyond what one person could bear.
However, at that moment, Zhao Yang noticed someone beside the elders—a youthful boy he had bribed during his Spiritual Root assessment years ago, the Mischievous Boy. The boy seemed perplexed by Zhao Yang's gaze, his eyes widening with excitement as he fidgeted restlessly. Suddenly, he transformed into a streak of light and leaped off the stage, landing in front of Zhao Yang with a grin. "Well, look who it is! I thought it was some fool my adoptive father sent me to laugh at. Turns out it's you!"
Zhao Yang smiled in return. He had learned from Song Qianqiu that the boy was connected to the Grand Elder of the Myriad Spirit Sect. Hearing him mention that his adoptive father sent him here likely meant that the Grand Elder was indeed the boy's adoptive father; otherwise, he wouldn't be sitting among the elders. Zhao Yang wondered about the boy's cultivation level.
Realizing this, Zhao Yang said, "I've tried to inquire about you a few times since I arrived at the Sect but couldn't find any news. I owe you for what happened back then. How's that book I gave you, The Gentleman? Is it really a secret not shared in the cultivation world?"
The quirky boy's face flushed slightly as he chuckled. "It truly is a secret! I owe you big time, brother. I never imagined there could be such wonderful things in this world. Don't worry; since you're the one challenging today’s fool, I'll make sure you don't die. But afterward, you'll have to give me another book—no, two art albums. What do you say?"
Zhao Yang nodded. "That's no problem; you can count on me."
"You're a great brother! By the way, I'm Nangong Wuxin," he said with a bright smile, patting Zhao Yang on the shoulder. "And that beautiful girl you were just looking at is Sister Qingxue. She's the daughter of the Lord of Yuwang City, but she has to call me Shixiong—even though she's never done so or paid me any attention. The woman next to her is her master, the Sixth Elder of our Sect; she's quite fierce, so be careful! I'll find a way to stir up trouble on the challenge stage and get you out of here—no one dares mess with me!" With that, Nangong Wuxin flew back to his seat among the elders on the Viewing Platform and sat down with an expression of utmost seriousness, like a true gentleman.
"Nangong Wuxin... Qingxue... Yu Qingsnow..." Zhao Yang repeated to himself.
Comment 0 Comment Count