Chapter 84 - Time to Work Hard
Chapter 84 - Time to Work Hard
Chapter 84: Time to Work Hard
Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation
The majestic ancient city of Changan was like a sleeping dragon in an ink wash painting, austere and reverent.
Fang Lang climbed down from the flight sword. When he saw the welcoming party at Changan’s gates, the smile on his face widened. Jiang Linglong and Wei Sheng were both present.
It felt like he was meeting his ancestors, for some reason.
The rain continued to fall on the city of Changan, like a delicate scene in an artist’s masterpiece.
Fang Lang was excited. Finally, he could milk Old Jiang for rewards again!
Old Jiang was his main binding partner. He had to use this opportunity to get more rewards before the final section of the Imperial Examination began. He might even ascend another grade before the test started.
All the partners were gathered in Changan and Fang Lang was incredibly pleased.
It was the golden opportunity to milk for rewards!
A sparkle shone in his eyes and his smile kept growing.
Ni Wen and Liu Bubai disembarked. Ni Wen was timid and moved carefully while Liu Bubai kept his head high. He glanced at the veiled Jiang Linglong and smiled, “Lady Jiang Pei, we meet again.”
Liu Bubai remembered his teammate from the Gathering of Swords.
Chao Xiaojian and Wen Ting soon appeared.
Wen Ting startled when he saw the man with the bamboo hat hop down from the carriage roof. He quickly nodded and said, “It’s been a long time.”
The refined features on Pei Liao’s face—the envy of both men and women—barely moved. He returned the nod and let his eyes settle on Fang Lang.
“You’re the one who drew the Blooming Lotus Sword? Fang Lang?” Pei Liao’s magnetic voice echoed.
Fang Lang found the man to be extremely cool—coolness seemed to naturally radiate off him.
“The red arrow of the Tang Code was meant for you?”
The question was asked tentatively but Pei Liao could smell the stench of royal blood on Fang Lang.
Before Fang Lang could speak, Wen Ting strode up to Pei Liao and tried to hug the man.
“Old Pei, can we step aside for a second?”
Pei Liao raised a well-sculpted eyebrow and pressed the leather scabbard into Wen Ting’s chest. Wen Ting masterfully dodged the object and looped an arm around Pei Liao’s shoulders.
Pei Liao’s pupils constricted immediately and he raised his voice.
“Wen Ting! Get your dirty hands off me!”
...
The atmosphere inside the extravagant horse carriage was rowdy.
The carriage wheels waded through the ankle-high waters, making a splashing sound with each rotation.
Throughout the journey, Fang Lang was busy dissecting the art of sword mastery with Jiang Linglong.
The veiled Jiang Linglong entertained him.
Her eyes turned into half crescents as she listened to Fang Lang’s question about sword techniques—to be honest, the discussion benefitted her too. The overlapping sounds of rain and Fang Lang’s voice filled her with a sense of satisfaction.
‘Ding! The host has engaged in meaningful interactions with the binding partner, Jiang Linglong. Passive ability triggered. Your reward is Spell: Frost Bow (Spell Mastery Specialty).’
Amazing!
This was the power of a meaningful interaction!
Old Jiang was truly a great partner.
Fang Lang was incredibly happy.
Jiang Linglong led Fang Lang, Ni Wen and Liu Bubai into the Martial Arts King Manor. Wen Ting too was staying in the Martial Arts King Manor. After all, the real estate spanned a vast area and room availability was not a question.
Most importantly, if Fang Lang stayed at any of Changan inns, there was a risk of interference by others. Although the third prince would not kill Fang Lang in Changan, there were many other ways to sabotage his cultivation training.
Within the Martial Arts King Manor, Fang Lang would also be shielded from the top 500 honor roll candidates. Without the impromptu challenges, his training would be much smoother.
When everyone was settled, the night was dark and Jiang Linglong returned to her own courtyard.
Princess Pei Shi hiked up her skirt and tiptoed over to Jiang Linglong. The princess had an umbrella in her hand.
“Ling’er, is Little Fang alright? I hear he’s staying with us. Can I pay him a visit?
“A person who can write such impressive poetry, let mother see if he is as cavalier as your father.”
Princess Pei Shi had a burning curiosity. She craned her neck and tried to catch a glimpse of the boy behind Jiang Linglong.
Jiang Linglong’s lips pulled into a straight line. She remained silent, hand on her umbrella.
The smile on Princess Pei Shi’s face slowly vanished and her enthusiasm escaped her. The beautiful woman rearranged her posture.
“Ahh, this cold weather is giving me a headache. I’m retiring to my room.”
Princess Pei Shi gently rubbed her temples and left the courtyard with the escorting servant girl.
Jiang Linglong rolled her eyes but said nothing.
...
In one of the courtyards of the Martial Arts King Manor.
The flame flickered.
Fang Lang sat cross-legged on the bed and exhaled a breath of stale air.
He rubbed his forehead. The spiritual sense energy that came from the deconstructed judgment arrow of the Tang Code was overwhelming. It brought Fang Lang’s spell mastery up to the rank of a third-grade spell master and gave him a splitting headache.
The forceful absorption made him frustrated.
He shut his eyes and investigated the new skill he obtained from Old Jiang.
‘The Frost Bow Spell will be incorporated through spiritual memory and mental memory. The ins and outs of the technique will be revealed to the host. Happy cultivating!’
Information regarding the Frost Bow Spell rushed into Fang Lang’s mind.
A unique scene played out in his head.
...
Snow fluttered from the sky above.
The teen stood amidst the snow. His arms were by his side, fingers splayed. When a snowflake touched his fingertip, he opened his eyes.
The fingers moved and his spiritual sense was activated. The snowflakes in the air were guided by a mysterious power, forming a bow in his hand.
His spiritual sense was the bowstring while the snow was the bow.
The teen held the bow in one hand as fingertips plucked the string. With a draw, the snowflakes transformed into an ice arrow.
He lifted the bow and fired.
The snowflakes in the air were pierced in a consecutive fashion.
Day after day, year after year.
...
Fang Lang opened his eyes and found the candle had already burned past the halfway mark. Molten wax spilled from the holder.
The internalization of the spell soothed his expanded spiritual sense and he felt much better.
Once the three-day cooldown time for the Instant Casting Staff was over, Fang Lang might make an attempt on the third prince’s life again.
If Fang Lang triggered the Tang Code’s judgment spell once every three days, he might be able to ascend to the third-class spell advisor realm before the final section of the Imperial Examination. He could potentially reach the fourth class in half a year and rise above the commons.
These were just errant thoughts in his head. The third prince was not a weakling. The appearance of Xuanyuan Taihua made it possible for Fang Lang to stab the third prince. The third prince’s bloodline abilities were temporarily severed by Xuanyuan Taihua and the shock made him an easy target for Fang Lang.
A head-on collision with the third prince would likely end with Fang Lang’s demise.
It was best to wait and see.
‘Steady, don’t rush.’
Fang Lang shook the bloodthirsty urge away.
As he prepared to stabilize his cultivation, a silhouette appeared outside.
“Can we talk?” a neutral voice called out.
Surprised, Fang Lang got up and opened the door. Old Jiang’s uncle—the man with unrivaled beauty—stood at his door.
“Master Pei.” Fang Lang cupped his hands in respect.
Pei Liao nodded and entered the room with his leather scabbard in hand.
“I hear Sect Leader Taihua’s spiritual sense was summoned from the Blooming Lotus Sword at Qiuling Demon Portal’s hunting grounds.”
Fang Lang nodded his reply and gave the man a rough summary of what had happened.
After hearing the story, there was a flash of strong emotions on Pei Liao’s face. His eyes glimmered and he shook his head.
“I consider Sect Leader Taihua my mentor. You currently hold the Blooming Lotus Sword, therefore I’ll protect you while you’re in Changan,” the man said.
The declaration surprised Fang Lang. He glanced at the sword in the leather scabbard, then at Pei Liao.
Pei Liao said coolly, “If I don’t, I’d have failed as her disciple.”
In a flurry, he picked up his weapon and turned to leave.
Fang Lang watched in admiration. ‘So cool. But, why do I feel like you’re not actually her disciple?’
After the day’s encounter, Fang Lang had many questions and he wanted answers.
He took a deep breath and asked, “Master Pei, I have some questions.”
Pei Liao stopped and replied succinctly, “Ask.”
Fang Lang thought, ‘Your name really doesn’t match your personality1.’
“I’m the top scorer on the honor roll. Is there no consequence to the third prince’s blatant attempt on my life? Will the Emperor not address it?” Fang Lang fielded his question.
Qiuling Demon Portal was not far from Changan—the place could easily be considered part of the Emperor’s personal domain.
The third prince had tried to kill an Imperial Examination candidate who ranked first in both the theory and combat assessments. If there was no justice, how could the Imperial Examination be taken seriously by the future generation?
The question took Pei Liao off guard. His eyes shimmered and he placed the leather scabbard on the table.
With a neutral expression, he began his explanation.
...
The lightless sky was akin to a pot of ink.
The carriage rolled through the rain puddles, kicking up splashes.
Lu Taixuan exited the carriage. He uncorked the gourd canteen on his waist and took a swig of alcohol before ambling toward the imperial palace.
At the entrance of the Royal City, a figure was dressed in the splendor of an official robe. Even the night could not diminish the brilliance of the imperial court robes.
Li Puyi held an umbrella as he walked out. The raindrops struck the material surface and turned into mist.
Lu Taixuan swallowed the alcohol and made an ungainly walk toward Li Puyi.
The two men stopped in front of each other.
The sound of the rain quieted down when they spoke.
“Administrator Li, since you’re in the third prince’s camp, you should’ve advised him to restrain himself. An assassination attempt right under the Emperor’s nose when the final section of the Imperial Examination hasn’t even begun? The Emperor is old but still present,” Lu Taixuan said.
Li Puyi spoke in a light tone, “Chancellor Lu, you’re mistaken. In the world of cultivation, the weak are beneath the strong. Technically, the third prince is at fault but it is simply his brash nature, how could one blame him? More importantly, the Emperor will only acknowledge the existence of cultivators in the eighth class and above. As long as the ironclad laws of the royal family are in place, everyone below a ninth-class cultivator will stay in line as the Tang Code is their only hope of transcending.
“Losing one champion of the theory and combat assessments is nothing. There’ll be many more to come.”
The drumming sounds of raindrops echoed.
Lu Taixuan drank his wine in silence. Li Puyi’s words rang like a thunderclap striking down from the dark skies above the Tang Dynasty.
With a smile, Lu Taixuan shook his head. “You’re right. The Emperor has his plans and strategy. A mere top scorer on the honor roll is not a concern.”
Li Puyi grinned. “Chancellor Lu is right, a champion on the honor roll is insufficient. If he was the grand champion, he would have the right to speak to the Emperor. The Tang Dynasty bows before the royal family and the Emperor’s blood runs in the third prince. If that boy wishes to seek justice, snatch the title of grand champion, then we’ll talk.”
Li Puyi dusted his robe and walked past Lu Taixuan. “However, I don’t believe he stands a chance. My son will be the grand champion this year, it will be his era.”
The words were uttered in a calm and confident disposition.
Li Puyi left.
The falling rain carried a sense of melancholy as the temperature dropped further.
Lu Taixuan drank a mouthful of wine. The liquid burned his throat as it went down. He stroked his beard and smiled.
“Li Yuanzhen... I don’t think so.”
...
Beyond the window, the rain and winds gradually stopped.
Within the room, the burning candle was at the end of its life—candle wax spilled onto the table.
Pei Liao exited the room.
Sitting on a chair, Fang Lang was deep in thought. After a long moment, he let out a breath of stale air.
According to Pei Liao, in the world of cultivation, the Emperor was the ruler of the common folk and the cultivators. Written in the Tang Code was every cultivator’s hope—to transcend the mortal world.
It was nothing personal. A person of Fang Lang’s stature was simply beneath the threshold whereby the Emperor’s involvement was required.
Only by becoming the grand champion would Fang Lang earn the right to speak with the Emperor.
Fang Lang got up and went to his bed. He assumed the cultivation position.
The cultivation world was just like the last world he lived in, realistic to a fault.
The last world focused on wealth and authority, this world focused on power. A person’s cultivation strength determined their worth.
Power was fundamental in this world.
The root cause of everything boiled down to a simple, ‘You’re too weak.’ Fang Lang was not powerful enough to matter in the eyes of the law.
Fang Lang shut his eyes and replayed Pei Liao’s words.
“The Tang Code governs the hopes of every cultivator. If one day you reach the level of Sect Leader Taihua who tore apart the cage that is the sky of the Tang Dynasty, if you can transcend without relying on the Tang Code, then you will have the right to speak with the Emperor as equals.”
Fang Lang’s eyes opened. ‘Switch to partner-binding mode.’
Four silhouettes appeared around him—Ni Wen, Jiang Linglong, Liu Bubai and Wei Sheng.
It was time to work hard.
“System, activate Grade-Rush Card!”