Cultivating for a hundred lifetimes to ascension Chapter 1465: 793: Killing to Unseal

Mingxi Town features a thick web of rivers, where the primary roads spread out alongside the channels, twisting through endless bends.

As one strolls down the central avenue, fresh vistas appear every hundred paces, transformations occur every thousand, offering scenery that's delightfully diverse and rather graceful.

Situated at the close of the main thoroughfare, the Weng Pavilion stands opposite a stone arch bridge just a few dozen steps distant, where crowds of walkers on the span drive plenty of visitors to the bookstore.

Zhao Sheng hastened to the bookstore's doorway and entered promptly.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the shopkeeper spotted him right away and rushed from behind the counter to welcome him warmly: “This morning, I heard magpies chattering and thought it was some great news. It turns out Mr. Zhao has arrived.”

The shopkeeper possessed an agreeable look and an air of learning, but his speech carried the strong tinge of a trader, making it a bit grating on the ears.

“I see Young Master looking radiant, it seems your health has greatly improved. Truly a cause for celebration!”

Zhao Sheng dismissed it with a wave, replying casually: “Manager Chen, I came today to personally visit Old Shopkeeper Chen. Could you please inform him on my behalf?”

At these words, Manager Chen's face shifted suddenly. He paused briefly before responding, “He is feeling a bit under the weather now and it’s inconvenient for outsiders to visit him. Perhaps another day, Mr. Zhao.”

Zhao Sheng creased his brow lightly but quickly composed himself, offering a smile: “No problem, no problem. Since that’s the case, I shall come with ample gifts to visit once the Old Shopkeeper is feeling better.”

Having said so, he cupped his hands to take his leave.

Right at that instant, a blue-robed fellow staggered into the store, his features twisted in alarm, yelling: “It’s bad, you must go back and see!”

Manager Chen's countenance grew grim: “What’s got you so riled up? Calm down and speak slowly.”

The blue-robed man gulped deeply, his visage etched with sorrow: “The… the old master has passed away. You must hurry—”

“What?! My father is dead! Say that again!” Manager Chen's expression twisted sharply as he demanded fiercely.

“Yes… yes, just a short while ago, we found the old master’s study wide open. I thought it odd and went in to check and found… found that the old master had already passed away,” the blue-robed man stammered, voice quivering.

Manager Chen's complexion drained of color, and he bolted from the shop without a sound, dashing toward his home.

Zhao Sheng watched the scene and trailed after him silently.

The Chen Mansion lay just beyond the river, a mere half-mile trek once the stone arch bridge was crossed.

When Zhao Sheng got to the Chen Mansion, chaos had already gripped the place.

With Manager Chen's arrival, the household staff gained some calm and clustered around their leader, moving toward the study.

Zhao Sheng slipped into the mansion without trouble, keeping pace at an easy gait.

Before long, they went through the courtyard entrance and reached a tastefully ornate study, its door flung wide.

Manager Chen ordered the others to remain without, then proceeded inside alone.

As Zhao Sheng prepared to follow, a household servant caught sight of him and blocked his path at once: “Hey, who are you? Leave quickly, this is no place for spectators.”

Zhao Sheng had no desire to argue with the servant, merely explaining that he was a longtime acquaintance of Manager Chen and had come to offer aid upon learning of the old master's demise.

The servant ignored his words, intent only on shooing him away.

Zhao Sheng cast the servant a flat glance.

With that single gaze, the servant froze as if thunderstruck, rooted to the spot with beads of icy sweat forming on his brow.

Afterward, Zhao Sheng brushed by the servant and marched into the study, unchallenged by anyone.

Inside the study, everything appeared remarkably neat, far from the look of foul play, as the shelves brimmed with assorted old tomes, and off to one side, a stand showcased seven or eight relics like jade stamps, bronze pieces, stone inscriptions, and more.

An aged gentleman with silver locks slumped halfway in the chair behind the desk, his complexion ashen and bloodless, his lifeless gaze fixed forward, seemingly fixed on some unseen sight.

At that juncture, Manager Chen, face clouded in grief, leaned close, probing under the elder's nostrils with a finger, testing over and over for any sign of life.

Observing this, Zhao Sheng spoke gravely: “The old master has passed on, Manager Chen, my condolences!”

While uttering these words, he surveyed the room, his gaze swiftly settling on the wall at the desk's rear, marked by a pale rectangular outline, suggesting a artwork had once been mounted there.

Snapped from his daze by this, Manager Chen rose unsteadily and addressed Zhao Sheng in a voice thick with woe: “I’m embarrassed before Mr. Zhao. My father has always been healthy, yet his passing was so… so sudden! I need to handle my father’s affairs, Mr. Zhao, please help yourself.”

“Hold on! I believe the old master’s death is suspicious, haven’t you noticed a few things missing in the study?” Zhao Sheng declared, gesturing toward the spot behind Manager Chen.

These words prompted Manager Chen to whirl around, and his features contorted in shock at the bare wall.

“No, there was once a Yellow Springs Other Shore Painting hanging here. It’s gone now, indicating someone took it. Shishu, get in here now!”

Manager Chen bellowed in fury, and the blue-robed man dashed inside, looking utterly agitated.

Face flushed with rage, Manager Chen demanded: “I ask you, has anyone ever entered the study?”

“Sir… Sir, I don’t know! When I realized the old master was in trouble, I immediately ran to inform you. After I left, I don’t know if anyone came in!”

A glint sparked in Zhao Sheng’s eyes as he abruptly indicated the wall, cutting in: “When you found the old master had no breath, was the painting on the wall there… or not?”

The blue-robed man eyed the spot where the artwork had been, wavered briefly, then affirmed with a vigorous nod: “As soon as I entered, I noticed the Other Shore Map was gone. At the time, I found it strange, since the Other Shore Map was the old master’s most beloved ancient painting. How could it just disappear for no reason?”