Cultivating for a hundred lifetimes to ascension Chapter 1459 - 789: A Chilling Realization

Descending a short distance from the arched bridge, Zhao Sheng halted along the riverbank, standing there in anticipation.

The boat topped with black tiles drifted leisurely toward the edge, as the scholarly middle-aged figure gathered his robe's edge, alighted from the prow, and positioned himself firmly on the land.

With a quick scan, Zhao Sheng observed the individual, detecting the sharp clarity in his gaze, suggesting no spark of recognition.

Hmm?

This sight caused a ripple in Zhao Sheng's thoughts, prompting him to clasp his hands abruptly and inquire, "Brother, might I learn your name?"

Rather than replying directly, the middle-aged scholar gestured toward a close-by teahouse and proposed, "Shall we take a seat over there? I have quite a few inquiries myself."

"Very well." The phrasing struck Zhao Sheng as oddly recognizable, heightening his unease, yet he consented without delay.

Moments later, the pair stepped into the establishment and selected a secluded chamber to occupy.

Once the server had poured the tea, Zhao Sheng directed Chen San to depart, ensuring the space held just the two of them.

At that point, Zhao Sheng uncovered a startling truth: the middle-aged scholar retained no recollection of "yesterday."

To put it another way, yesterday's events lingered in Zhao Sheng's mind alone, while the other man drew a blank!

This twist deepened the enigma surrounding everything.

As Zhao Sheng mulled over the underlying cause, the middle-aged scholar lifted his teacup with a booming laugh, "Haha, I am Nangong Wuliang—greetings to you, fellow Daoist."

Snapping out of his reverie, Zhao Sheng mirrored the gesture with his own cup, chuckling in response, "I am Zhao Gongzhu—greetings to you, fellow Daoist Nangong Wuliang."

What followed in their exchange echoed yesterday's dialogue remarkably closely.

As Zhao Sheng floated the idea of stirring up a disturbance to draw in additional fellow Daoists, a flash of insight appeared to strike the middle-aged scholar.

Yet, what unfolded next caught him completely off guard.

Before Zhao Sheng could bring up the fire-starting tactic from yesterday, the middle-aged scholar beat him to it, declaring, "A method just occurred to me?"

"Do tell—I'm listening." Zhao Sheng's gaze sparked with curiosity, his expression betraying keen eagerness.

...

One hour passed, and right outside the teahouse, the clamor of gongs and drums erupted suddenly, fireworks exploded in the air, while three endearing large-headed lions cavorted and frolicked charmingly across the plaza.

Simultaneously, a massive banner cascaded from the rooftop of the three-story teahouse, boldly displaying the four bold characters "The Way of Nature."

The vibrant lion dance spectacle unfolding at the teahouse drew crowds of local onlookers in droves.

Before long, an ever-growing throng gathered to witness the uncommon lion dance spectacle.

Meanwhile, from a nearby second-floor fabric shop, Zhao Sheng sat across from the middle-aged scholar, both leaning toward the window to survey the gathering at the teahouse.

The middle-aged scholar murmured under his breath, counting softly, "One, two, three..."

Zhao Sheng also spotted a handful of "familiar faces," such as the woman from the hidden room, the middle-aged merchant, and the ferryman.

Curiously, the woodcutter failed to make an appearance.

The young urchin did show up, however, weaving through the masses as if pilfering something.

The moment Zhao Sheng caught sight of the young beggar's features, shock gripped him entirely, for the crimson stain on the beggar's brow had disappeared entirely.

Noticing the odd shift in his demeanor, the middle-aged scholar queried quietly, "Daoist Zhao, have you noticed anything unusual? Maybe—"

Without letting him complete the thought, Zhao Sheng cut in sharply, "It's nothing—just taken aback. I never imagined so many fellow Daoists would reveal themselves so readily."

The middle-aged scholar absorbed the response and wisely held back further questions, resuming his watchful gaze.

Next to him, Zhao Sheng sank into deep reflection, pondering, "That blood mark on the young beggar's forehead has vanished; only two explanations seem plausible. Either he located the exit and broke free successfully, or he's deceased—probably slain by fellow guests of the Immortal Ruins."

Delving into the matter, Zhao Sheng leaned toward the latter scenario as most probable, and testing it proved straightforward. Simply select a target, eliminate them, and check the "following day" for confirmation.

For instance, the woman from the hidden room who had seized the Vajra would serve as an ideal subject.

Shortly after, the middle-aged scholar whipped his head westward, his face altering subtly as he bellowed, "Wait—no, check that direction."

Zhao Sheng's musing shattered, and he followed the indicated path with his eyes, spotting thick smoke rising several li to the west, resembling a blaze engulfing a building.

The inferno raged so fiercely that it illuminated the whole town.

A spark ignited in Zhao Sheng's mind, linking the dots swiftly, and he proclaimed resolutely, "Come on, we must connect with the other fellow Daoists. Delay any longer, and we'll miss our chance."

The middle-aged scholar's sharp intellect grasped the implication at once, deducing that one of the fellow Daoists had set the blaze.

To snag a few before the rest of the Immortal Ruins visitors got lured away, they needed to act fast, or all would be lost.

Hastening from the fabric shop, Zhao Sheng and the middle-aged scholar soon crossed paths with the middle-aged merchant, the woodcutter, and the woman from the hidden room.

From there, they proceeded into the teahouse and located the reserved chamber.

Chen San stood vigil outside the door. Spotting Zhao Sheng's arrival, he advanced promptly and bowed, "Young Master, I've carried out all your directives. Any further commands?"

As he spoke, Chen San stole furtive looks at the middle-aged scholar and the rest, displaying clear confusion. He couldn't fathom what ailed the young master today or the identities of these strangers.

"Excellent work—you'll receive a reward back at the estate. Stay below." Zhao Sheng acknowledged him with a nod, deftly dismissing Chen San to the lower level.

Entering the chamber were Zhao Sheng, the middle-aged scholar, the woman from the hidden room, and five more, all settling into their places.

The discussions that ensued mirrored "yesterday's" once more.

The woman from the hidden room produced the "Vajra" just as before, igniting the group's collective wonder.

In the end, the assembly dispersed again, each citing reasons to depart.

This round differed in that Zhao Sheng didn't linger; he exited soon after the woman from the hidden room.

...

The woman appeared to sense a tail on her trail. No sooner had she left the teahouse than she veered sharply into a cosmetics store.

Witnessing this, Zhao Sheng realized his scheme had crumbled.

He had always respected others' cunning, knowing full well that once she vanished from view, the woman possessed countless means to slip away from the shop.

"Back to the estate—now!" Zhao Sheng summoned Chen San without a second thought and pivoted toward home.

Halfway down the street, a prickling awareness hit him of a pursuer. A sidelong peek confirmed two shadowy forms trailing discreetly.

None other than the ruffians from "yesterday"!

Surprisingly, they had set their sights on him.

No,

Rather, that "enigmatic figure" had singled him out.

...

After traversing a few blocks, in a narrow lane scarcely half a li from the Zhao Mansion, the pair of master and servant found themselves hemmed in from both sides.

Three or four thugs brandishing broad blades closed in from the alley's mouth, with one jabbing his weapon at Zhao Sheng, smirking as he taunted, "Mr. Zhao, we're short on silver. Mind lending us some to enjoy?"

Before Zhao Sheng could respond, Chen San, driven to shield his lord, lunged ahead of him, roaring defiantly, "You scoundrels! Do you grasp our master's ties to the Black Tiger Hall Master? Blocking the Young Master's way—you're begging for death. Scram, now!"

"Pah! Craving death? Laozi will grant it!" The head thug hawked a glob at Chen San's face, hoisted his blade high, and swung viciously toward Chen San's torso.

A gleam of steel sliced the air, followed by a shrill cry that rent the silence.