Ze Tian Ji

Chapter 703 – A Story about a City and a Blade (II)

Chapter 703 – A Story about a City and a Blade (II)

Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

Wang Po understood.

He and Chen Changsheng wanted to kill Zhou Tong.

The other side wanted to kill him and Chen Changsheng.

The Wenshui Tang clan’s choice, due to their different stances towards him and Chen Changsheng, had deviated somewhat.

But there were still two matters that he did not understand.

If one treated the Tang clan as purely merchants who placed profit above all, why did they want Chen Changsheng to die?

Everyone knew that Chen Changsheng and Tang Tang were extremely close friends. Chen Changsheng’s becoming the next Pope would present enormous benefits for the Tang clan.

"White Emperor City also does not agree with Chen Changsheng’s becoming the next Pope. This is also a question that many people do not understand."

The Tang Second Master explained, "That is because White Emperor City has an even better choice. However, it’s true that Chen Changsheng is the best choice for my Tang clan, but for me, it’s the worst choice."

The one Chen Changsheng had a good relationship with was Tang Tang, not the Wenshui Tangs, and even less the Tang Second Master.

Wang Po asked, "This being the case, why did the Old Master listen to you?"

The Tang Second Master said, "You know that the Old Master detested the Divine Empress. What Chen Changsheng did greatly displeased the Old Master."

At this moment, a clear hum of a sword was heard from the snow and wind at the end of the street, followed by the shining of sword glows.

Chen Changsheng’s figure flickered in and out of the snow.

With a groan, a bloody odor penetrated through the snow and came to where they were seated.

The battle on that side had already begun, but Wang Po’s blade was still on the table, unmoving.

Wang Po drew his gaze back and placed it back on the blade still drowned in snow. "You can’t even wait ten-some days?"

The entire continent knew that the Pope’s illness was growing more and more serious. As autumn transformed to winter, as the season came to a close, the final ten-some days had come.

Even if the Great Zhou Imperial Court, White Emperor City, and the Wenshui Tang clan wanted to snatch away the seat of the Pope, why could they not wait ten-some days?

"His Holiness the Pope is a Saint. When he dies, thunder and lightning will follow, and he will have plans for the aftermath."

The Tang Second Master continued, "What we want to do is throw his plans into disorder by using the simplest method, resolving what might be the most complicated of matters in the future."

Even if the Pope returned to the sea of stars and the entire world knew of his plans, who would dare oppose his final decree?

Once the Orthodoxy’s will united into an impregnable fortress, even someone as powerful as Shang Xingzhou or as scheming as the Wenshui Tangs would find it very challenging to drive Chen Changsheng from the Li Palace.

To kill Chen Changsheng ahead of time was undoubtedly many times simpler than acting against him once he was seated on the throne of the Pope.

At this moment, this seemed like the most accurate answer to this problem, but before this appearance of this solution, no one had thought of it before.

No one would have thought that just before the Pope was about to leave the world, Shang Xingzhou would not only lack the patience to wait, but would even choose, before the Pope had even left the world...to strike.

"Who decided this?" Wang Po asked the Tang Second Master.

The Tang Second Master smiled. "It was naturally the decision of the esteemed master of the Dao. I just offered my own wisdom at the appropriate juncture."

Wang Po looked into his eyes and said, "After so many years, you still like to play around with these tricks."

"Right, because that’s what I’m good at," the Tang Second Master indifferently proclaimed, his smile vanishing.

Many years ago, the current Principal of the Heavenly Dao Academy, Zhuang Zhihuan, met him in Wenshui.

From then until now, Zhuang Zhihuan had always been startled by the Tang Second Master’s talent in cultivation, but he was even more startled at how it had been wasted.

In the entire world, only the Old Master of the Tang clan roughly understood why he cared so little for his precious talent, giving it up like it was a pair of worn-out shoes.

Because no matter how high his talent, he could not reach higher than Wang Po, and no matter how diligently he cultivated, he could not surpass Wang Po.

Many years ago, he unwillingly and despairingly recognized this fact.

Thus, the Tang Second Master who once had limitless future prospects became the tyrannical hedonist of Wenshui City, gradually fading into obscurity.

No one knew that he had only given up on cultivation. In silence, he had placed all his efforts in another aspect, well aware that only this way could he defeat Wang Po.

In wisdom, strategy, unfeeling schemes, and judging and using people’s minds.

"In terms of fighting, I might not be able to reach you for the rest of my life.

"But in other aspects, you don’t even have the right to carry my shoes.

"I understand the clearest what each person cares about or wants, what thresholds they can’t pass, where the shadows they can’t see are.

"Everyone says that Wang Po’s path of the blade is straight. You sell your straightness to seek fame, so what you care about the most is naturally fame.

"Today, I used the fame that you desire to suppress your blade, so what can you do?"

The Tang Second Master looked at Wang Po and laughed.

Just as he usually did, he opened his mouth but issued no noise.

Every word that had just come from his mouth was a jeer or taunt aimed at Wang Po.

Wang Po looked at his face, and that desire, that impulse, grew more and more intense.

But how could he do it?

He was not a person who sold his straightness in pursuit of fame.

But kindness was as weighty as a mountain.

This mountain was crushing him. Could he cut through it with a single blade?

......

......

Madam Mu walked out of the hall and raised her head to the sky.

Snow was currently falling from the sky. Snow fell from the clouds, but regardless of what bystanders saw, in her eyes, the snow and clouds were sheep that had white and soft wool.

Wherever her gaze fell, the snowflakes would scatter and the clouds would gradually move, sheep being herded. (TN: Mu ?, Madam Mu’s surname, and the surname of all other members of the Great Western Continent’s Imperial clan, means ’herding’)

As he saw this sight, Mao Qiuyu’s expression grew abnormally solemn, his two sleeves moving despite the lack of wind.

She drew back her gaze and looked to some place at the side of the hall. A slightly chilly smile appeared on her face as she asked, "Was my younger sister punished by you here?"

Besides Empress of the Demi-humans, she had another identity: Chief Princess of the Great Western Continent. Her younger sister was a once-Prefect of the Orthodoxy—Mu Jiushi.

Back when Shang Xingzhou had wanted to expel Chen Changsheng from the Orthodoxy and pushed forward Mu Jiushi as successor to the Pope, the matter had naturally been closely related to Madam Mu.

Contrary to expectations, Mao Qiuyu actually grew calm at this question, his two sleeves lightly wafting in the breeze.

The snow in front of the hall was taken up by the wind and sent in all directions, heedlessly scattering into the shadows of the various halls and palaces, revealing several figures.

Daoist Baishi.

Linghai Zhiwang.

An Lin.

Daoist Siyuan.

The five Prefects, the strongest powers of the Orthodoxy, had all arrived.

And this place was the Li Palace.

Even if she was a Saint, she was not able to act freely and without rival.

Let alone the fact that though the Pope was extremely ill, he was still the Pope.

Mao Qiuyu looked at her and sternly asked, "Empress, do you truly wish to treat my Orthodoxy as an enemy?"

"My view is different from Yin’s, so I am treating the Orthodoxy as an enemy?" she calmly asked. "Can Shang not represent the Orthodoxy?"

Mao Qiuyu, Linghai Zhiwang and the other Prefects did not seem affected, but their Dao hearts had already chilled.

They knew that if matters today were carried out with just the slightest lack of propriety, the Orthodoxy was highly likely to confront the greatest internal strife since the Holy Maiden went south.

Shang Xingzhou was also a legitimate successor of the Orthodoxy, and also the Pope’s senior brother. One thousand years ago, he had lived in the Li Palace.

From a certain perspective, after the Pope’s death, it was him that was best able to represent the Orthodoxy.

Madam Mu’s meaning with her question was plain to see.

The snowstorm over the Li Palace suddenly intensified.

......

......

The snowstorm over the Imperial Palace suddenly intensified.

The western wind rolled up snowflakes and pelted against the side door of a palace hall.

The door was pushed open, but the snow and wind were unable to enter, as Shang Xingzhou was walking out.

In order to subdue the Pavilion of Heavenly Secrets and stabilize the court for His Majesty in the shortest amount of time, he had paused for many days within this room.

Today, he walked out.

He was prepared to leave the palace.

He wanted to go to the Li Palace.

Ten-some Daoists of profound cultivation level walked out of the snow and followed behind him.