The Foreign City is situated in a barren, desolate area. The palace of the Yiren King doesn’t have the misty, ethereal atmosphere typical of a celestial mansion, instead exuding a solemn and grandiose aura. The throne hall is carved from massive stones, with wall-to-wall engravings of intersecting axe and blade motifs, adding a sense of resonant strength.
Bai Shuo was determined to find Chong Zhao for a discussion and hurriedly followed a maid into the hall. Upon entering, she was stunned. The hall was already filled with celestial and demon disciples attending the Wu Tong Martial Banquet. Bei Chen, Nan Wan, and Mu Jiu were seated beneath the king’s throne, while Chong Zhao had also taken a seat among them.
Bai Shuo, being merely an outer disciple of the ethereal sect, only had a place at the banquet due to Chong Zhao’s favor. She and Fan Yue were assigned seats close to the hall entrance, several meters away from Chong Zhao. Rumors about the recent events on Wu Ming Mountain had already spread, and many celestial and demon lords were casting disdainful and envious glances at Chong Zhao, whispering among themselves. The disciples of Yun Xiao, seated beside Nan Wan, wore expressions of cold detachment.
Bai Shuo eyed the fine food and wine on the table, furrowing her brows. She picked up a piece of pastry and a cup of wine, sniffing them cautiously. Finding no poison, she exhaled in relief. She kept trying to catch Chong Zhao’s eye, but to her frustration, he appeared oblivious, quietly drinking alone.
“That fool! At a time like this, he still has the nerve to sulk!” Bai Shuo was speechless. She discreetly pulled a small paper figure from her Qiankun bag and breathed life into it. The little paper figure stretched lazily, yawning as it stood up.
“Go to A-Zhao and tell him…” Bai Shuo whispered her instructions, and the little figure, now alert, crept off the cushion and scurried toward Chong Zhao along the edge of the wall, moving slyly.
As Bai Shuo kept an eye on the paper figure, her thoughts drifted back to when she passed the palace gates earlier. Outside, bonfires were lit, and the residents of the Foreign City had gathered. The Wu Tong Heart Fire was not contained within the spirits of the Foreign City citizens, so why did the Yiren King summon them outside the palace?
The Locking Spirit Array would open at dawn tomorrow, at which point the Foreign City would no longer be an isolated city. Whatever the Yiren King intended to do, as long as she could rally the celestial and demon disciples to hold out through the night, they would be fine. The key was getting Bei Chen and Mu Jiu to trust her. With the camaraderie they shared from Wu Ming Mountain, it shouldn’t be too difficult.
As Bai Shuo strategized, two more paper figures slipped through her fingers, quietly creeping toward Bei Chen and Mu Jiu. Thankfully, the old tortoise’s teachings on unconventional techniques had proven handy at this crucial time.
Fan Yue, noticing Bai Shuo’s busy hands, offered her a glass of water at just the right moment. “Master, slow down; don’t overexert yourself.”
“Good disciple.” Bai Shuo gulped down the water, watching as the three paper figures reached their intended targets. Her eyes lit up with anticipation, but just as she was about to exhale in relief, the figures suddenly collapsed, lying still on the ground.
“What’s happening?” Bai Shuo was startled when a powerful voice suddenly echoed through the hall.
“Distinguished guests, I have been remiss in my hospitality. Allow me to offer a toast to make amends. Please, enjoy yourselves.”
At some point, the Yiren King had quietly taken his seat on the throne. He raised his cup, drinking deeply in front of everyone. The hall fell silent. The Yiren King’s courteous gesture surprised the young celestial and demon disciples, who quickly followed suit, raising their cups in return.
Perhaps intentionally, as he set his cup down, the Yiren King cast a meaningful glance in Bai Shuo’s direction. A chill ran down her spine, and she quickly lowered her head, her palms trembling.
A pair of hands steadied her own. Looking up, Bai Shuo met her young disciple’s gaze, which helped her regain her composure.
From across the hall, Chong Zhao witnessed this scene, his expression growing cold. The wine he drank burned his throat, its spiciness overwhelming.
“Your Majesty, I heard from Brother Nan Wan that the third Wu Tong Heart Fire is to be chosen by the people of the Foreign City. Is this true?” Wu Liang glanced at Nan Wan before bowing to the Yiren King.
“And you are?” The Yiren King looked at him.
0 Comments