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Chapter 83 - Old Jiang, Changan, I’m Coming for You
Chapter 83 - Old Jiang, Changan, I’m Coming for You
Chapter 83: Old Jiang, Changan, I’m Coming for You
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The heavy rain turned the soil muddy.
Silence reigned.
The teen’s words struck everyone to the core.
Shock, incredulity and surprise graced everyone’s features.
These emotions dripped like ink, spreading through the clear water of a porcelain bowl.
‘The Tang Code is strangely comforting?’
Was this something a human would say?
After enduring an arrow shot from the Tang Code, he was not even injured?
Not only was he unscahthed, Fang Lang was glowing!
Everyone present witnessed the long distance missile strike Fang Lang.
With Fang Lang’s second-class sword mastery, his soul would have been obliterated by the strike. He was supposed to die.
However, Fang Lang looked better than ever, smiling beneath the rainfall.
His smile was as bright as sunlight.
The third prince did not appreciate the warmth of the sunlight. All he felt was a chill encompassing his body.
The Tang Code... failed to kill Fang Lang.
Impossible, it could not be!
The ironclad rule hung over every citizen’s head—even the ninth-class cultivators feared it.
How did the Tang Code not kill the boy?
Nan Yehuo leaned on his only arm, eyebrows slanted in a permanent scowl.
‘He’s still not dead?
‘My instinct was right!’
There was a narrow window of opportunity to kill this monster. They had to strike Fang Lang down as early as possible.
Chao Xiaojian arrived with his battered sword. After deflecting the red arrow of the Tang Code, fine cracks spread across his sword which looked to shatter at any moment.
However, Chao Xiaojian did not mind. He was more curious about how Fang Lang survived the Tang Code’s judgment.
The power of the Tang Dynasty laws was absolute—no one could bear the weight of its judgment.
It could kill even ninth-class cultivators!
Yet Fang Lang stood unscathed.
Oddball!
Chao Xiaojian watched Fang Lang with inquisitive eyes. His fondness for the sword-loving boy grew after witnessing the heavens protect him.
A distance away, Wen Ting was dumbfounded in the rain.
Raindrops soaked his clothes and obscured his line of sight.
Wen Ting’s biggest fear—the Tang Code—was neutered just like that.
A shimmer appeared in Wen Ting’s eyes—Fang Lang had survived the imperial judgment! A ray of sunlight shone down on the darkness in Wen Ting’s chest.
Inch by inch, the darkness evaporated.
The fear in Wen Ting’s heart abated slightly as the Tang Code’s absolute power was proved otherwise.
Perhaps, one day, he would have the guts to point his sword at the law.
As the numbing fear in his heart faded, Wen Ting wondered why Fang Lang was unafraid of the Tang Code’s judgment.
Once again, Fang Lang had triggered a paradigm shift in Wen Ting.
The boy seemed to be oozing a strange aura all the time.
A normal cultivator could never take on the imperial laws.
Fang Lang was not a normal cultivator.
Realization flashed in Wen Ting’s eyes—he understood!
“The core mutation! The purple core!”
What a terrifying core mutation!
There were records of core mutations in the Tang Dynasty but mentions of the purple core were few and far between—one in a few millennia.
The rarity of the purple core meant it was special.
Wen Ting’s sudden exclamation shocked Fang Lang.
Unwilling to explain the effects of the Instant Casting Staff, Fang Lang could only roll with his mentor’s explanation.
He mimicked Wei Sheng’s sheepish smile and scratched his head innocently.
‘As long as I stay silent, they’ll think they’ve figured it out!’
Chao Xiaojian’s eyes brightened. ‘Right! The purple core!’
Standing atop the horse carriage, Li Liancheng and the one-armed Nan Yehuo wore looks of surprise and bewilderment.
A purple core?
Li Liancheng gave Fang Lang a frigid look.
‘Nan Yehuo was right! The boy has to be killed as soon as possible!
‘If he grows up and aligns himself with the Jiang family, things would be tricky,’ Li Liancheng thought regretfully.
It was impossible to kill Fang Lang when Chao Xiaojian was present.
The third prince suffered three stabs... all for nothing!
Li Liancheng could not publicly file a suit with the Imperial Court of Judicial Review. After all, he was the one who initiated the confrontation.
In addition, being stabbed by Fang Lang was not something he wanted publicized!
Therefore, the three stabs were like three slaps to the third prince’s face!
“Great.” Li Liancheng glared at Fang Lang.
Then, his eyes fell on Chao Xiaojian.
“The mighty Sword Guild.”
The third prince retrieved a paper talisman from his space ring and tore it into pieces.
The talisman had a teleportation spell restricted to spell masters of the seventh class and above.
The space rippled and swallowed the third prince.
Not a trace of royalty could be found.
The rain continued.
Nan Yehuo clenched his jaw and retrieved the appendage that was chopped off. Then, he flew away with his fiery red sword.
Chao Xiaojian had to tamp down the urge to give chase and stab the man. He stayed put only because Fang Lang needed protection.
The autumn rain became a trickle.
The earthy smell of wet soil filled the mountains.
The white-haired Chao Xiaojian approached Fang Lang. The man’s clothes left his chest and belly exposed.
“Don’t worry, Li Liancheng won’t be spreading the news about a mere second-class stabbing him. I suspect the cultivator sent by the eldest prince will be blamed for whatever transpired,” Chao Xiaojian said casually.
“Moments ago... Was that my senior’s aura? Can you tell me more?”
Fang Lang did not hide the incident from Chao Xiaojian who came to assist him.
When Fang Lang was done, Chao Xiaojian had an intense look. The man shut his eyes and exhaled deeply.
“A wisp of spiritual sense trapped within the Blooming Lotus Sword can wield such destructive powers? The sect leader must still be alive, and that is good news!”
A glimmer of joy shone in Chao Xiaojian’s eyes.
He was very impressed by Fang Lang who was able to evoke the spiritual sense of Xuanyuan Taihua. He could find no fault with the boy.
Liu Bubai and Ni Wen carefully walked out of the dense jungle
Throughout the whole battle, the two teens stayed hidden and held their breaths.
Wen Ting glanced at his students and sighed. “Let’s head to Changan. This place is not safe.”
He turned to Fang Lang and said, “You’ve thoroughly offended the third prince this time. The third prince is temperamental and brash and he’s unlikely to forgive you.
“As long as you stay within Changan’s perimeters, you’ll be protected under the final section of the Imperial Examination. But as soon as the examination is over, things will get messier unless you emerge as the grand champion.”
Wen Ting took a deep breath.
It was not easy to achieve the highest distinction, especially with the incredibly tough standards that year.
Jiang Linglong, Li Yuanzhen, Wei Sheng, Ximen Xianxian... Every single one of them was in the running for the title of grand champion.
Fang Lang would have to defeat Jiang Linglong for the highest distinction.
“For now, let’s get back to Changan. I’ll come up with a detailed plan for you then...” Wen Ting said.
The group quickly left the hunting grounds of Qiuling Demon Portal. The flight swords bound for Changan City tore through the hazy rain.
...
It had been raining in Changan for the longest time.
The golden imperial decree slowly vanished—the golden beams of light faded away.
The pressure that enveloped the whole city was alleviated.
The sounds of wind and rain were restored and the city sprang back to life.
Within the inn, Lu Taixuan and Cui Cheng exchanged a solemn look.
The two men said nothing and parted ways, each walking off in the opposite direction.
One was headed for the imperial palace, the other was off to the Martial Arts King Manor.
The rising waters in the city got murkier.
...
Droplets fell incessantly on the colored glass.
A ripple in space.
The raindrops in the air collected into the shape of runes which then exploded, splashing rain water everywhere.
The third prince emerged from the wall of water. He staggered a few steps and clutched his abdomen to center himself.
Li Liancheng’s face was pale and shock registered in his eyes.
He was taken aback by the appearance of Xuanyuan Taihua’s spiritual sense.
Moreover, his heart was still racing from the fact that Fang Lang managed to drive a sword through his body.
The pain etched deep in his consciousness, threatening to become a nightmare that would disturb his sleep.
Suddenly, Li Liancheng glimpsed into the distance.
A white-robed middle-aged man stood with an umbrella under the rain, free hand folded at his back.
Li Liancheng met the man’s eyes.
The droplets of rain between the two gazes froze.
“Brother.”
Li Liancheng raised his palm.
The plain-robed man watched impassively—his eyes were vast, as if containing galaxies. Li Liancheng had to avert his gaze.
The eldest prince was a man of strategy and foresight. Li Liancheng was worried if he stared any longer, his plans and intentions would be revealed by that searching gaze.
The eldest prince had a serene look as he assessed Li Liancheng. After a moment, the eldest prince shook his head and turned away, umbrella disappearing into the Imperial City’s haze.
No words were exchanged but that knowing look was enough to rile Li Liancheng up.
There was no mocking or snide laughter.
Just a look that conveyed, ‘Li Liancheng, you utter trash! To let a mere plebeian spill the blood of royals. You are a shame to the crown!’
One look was enough to haunt him forever.
Li Liancheng was having a horrible day.
...
Night was falling at the gates of Changan.
The downpour made the surroundings blurry.
Jiang Linglong held her oil paper umbrella and watched the quieting Tang Code overhead. Her heart trembled with fear and anticipation.
That red arrow spelled doom.
Even the immortals and gods would be shot down by the imperial laws.
Who was the target?
Who was to be punished?
The arrow flew in the direction of Qiuling Demon Portal where Fang Lang was. Her gut told her the arrow was meant for Fang Lang.
Wei Sheng stood across from her. He scratched his head and took a deep breath. Why did he have the feeling the judgment arrow was heading toward the second-class Fang Lang?
Fang Lang managed to harm the third prince?
Jiang Linglong was about to board the carriage and get Zhao Wuji to hurry when a figure wearing a bamboo hat appeared above the carriage.
The figure placed his leather scabbard down, knocking gently on the roof of the carriage. Water droplets fell as a result of the force.
“Dummy, there’s no need for that. They’re on their way here.”
The figure lifted his head and revealed a countenance prettier than most girls.
It was Jiang Linglong’s uncle, Pei Liao—a high official of the Imperial Court of Judicial Review.
Jiang Linglong was startled but she refrained from getting into the carriage.
Instead, she held the oil paper umbrella and stood atop the carriage. Her eyelashes fluttered as she gazed into the distance.
As she observed the horizon, the dark clouds beyond the city walls were split in half.
An extravagant flight sword roared in the autumn rain, tearing through the scenic landscape.
On the flight sword, Fang Lang sat cross-legged with his sword box across his knees—the Obsidian Sword and the Blooming Lotus Sword rested within.
Fang Lang raised his head and stared at the ancient city that gradually appeared.
He squinted his eyes.
At the forefront of the city, on the main passageway stood a horse carriage in the rain.
The lady wore a veil and a fluttering dress robe. Eyes shiny in the dark, Old Jiang was perched atop the carriage.
A bright smile graced Fang Lang’s features.
‘Old Jiang, Changan, I’m coming for you!’
Atop the carriage, Jiang Linglong saw the happy smile on Fang Lang’s face and felt her heart relax. Her eyes crinkled as her worries dissipated.
All was good.
...
On the road, Wei Sheng was mildly confused as he leaned on his black sword.
Was Fang Lang smiling at him?
‘What’s this odd sense of familiarity?’