Chapter 840 – The Unspeaking Person in the Ancestral Hall (1/2)

Chapter 840 – The Unspeaking Person in the Ancestral Hall

Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

Whether he was confronting Eunuch Lin in the Orthodox Academy, facing his own master Shang Xingzhou, or in the mountains or some other place, and even the day before yesterday when he met the Tang Second Master in the Daoist church, whenever he encountered those depressing important personages and elders, Chen Changsheng would always think of that friend.

This was the first friend he had made upon coming to the capital, and could also be considered the first friend he had made in his entire life.

In truth, the first meeting between these two friends was rather inexplicable. The Heavenly Dao Academy had been recruiting new students then. When all those examinees, many of them having succeeded at Purification and some of them even reaching Meditation, were waiting in line to be assessed, the Chen Changsheng that still knew nothing of cultivation saw a blue-clothed youth. And then, that youth who was clearly a cultivating genius told him that he was a genius. That youth had gone to the Plum Garden Inn to find Chen Changsheng and had a meal with him. Thus, the two became friends. It was just that simple.

That friend was called Tang Tang.

When he was ranked on the Proclamation of Azure Sky for the first time, he was ranked thirty-sixth, so he changed his name to Tang Thirty-Six.

From then to now, the Proclamation of Azure Sky and the Proclamation of Golden Distinction had been updated many times, his own rank continuously fluctuating, but he never again changed his name. Perhaps it was because that period of youth he most cherished would always live in the name of Tang Thirty-Six.

The reason Chen Changsheng would often think of and miss Tang Thirty-Six, besides the fact that he was his friend, was that Tang Thirty-Six had always played an extremely important role in the Orthodox Academy. The things that Chen Changsheng, Su Moyu, Zhexiu, and Xuanyuan Po weren't good at, Tang Thirty-Six was quite skillful in. The words that they couldn't bring themselves to speak came out very easily from Tang Thirty-Six's mouth. There were things that they were too embarrassed to do, but Tang Thirty-Six had never known the meaning of shame.

To put it another way, it was precisely Tang Thirty-Six's existence that allowed Chen Changsheng and the Orthodox Academy to pass those years in the capital in such a relaxed and pleasant fashion.

Tang Thirty-Six was a person most skilled at bringing happiness to his comrades and suffering to his opponents.

Because he was the incredibly wealthy sole grandson of the Tang clan, and there was nothing that he feared. This was especially the case after he entered the Orthodox Academy, where he no longer had to play the role of an elegant and noble young master. He soared upwards, becoming incomparably arrogant and supremely undisciplined. On the Divine Avenue, he cursed a little girl until she wept, and in Hundred Flowers Lane, he kicked a cripple. There was nothing that he did not dare to do.

He possessed the traits that Chen Changsheng was most lacking in.

It was those things hidden beneath the soaring arrogance and lack of discipline: passion, youthfulness, ego.

In the coup of the Mausoleum of Books, Tang Thirty-Six was forced to return to Wenshui, and now three years had passed.

After living in the old estate for two and a half years, he was imprisoned in the ancestral hall for half a year.

That soaring arrogance and lack of discipline seemed to be no more.

The passion, youthfulness, and ego seemed nowhere to be found.

He was of disheveled face and dirty hair, not caring for his appearance. His clothes were filthy, his eyes wooden, looking not much different from a corpse. No sound came from his mouth, as if he was mute.

The only thing that could be seen on his body was a numb and lifeless aura that symbolized resignation and despair.

Anyone who saw him would probably think he was a beggar or ascetic.

No one would ever associate him with that noble young master standing amidst the flowers while receiving the adoring gazes of countless young maidens of the capital.

Except Chen Changsheng, because he understood his friend more than anyone, and trusted in him more than anyone else.

He was confident that even if the sun were sinking into the abyss, never to rise again, and the world were teetering on the verge of annihilation, Tang Thirty-Six would not hide under his bedsheets and cry. Instead, he would call out all the prostitutes in the capital and conduct a massive orgy. Then, he would bring all those youths that were worthy enough to fight with him, accompanied by an unimaginable amount of treasures and several carriages of blue lobster, and ride the fastest horses to charge towards where the sun was falling, and he would even curse the filthiest profanities at the sky and sing the stupidest of songs.

If Chen Changsheng were able to see into the ancestral hall, he would know that his way of thinking was correct, and also that he had been worrying too much. In the Daoist church, he had said to the Tang Second Master that he was worried that if Tang Thirty-Six did not have a good prayer mat, he might injure his knees from kneeling too long.

Tang Thirty-Six wasn't even kneeling.

No matter how lonely he seemed, how filthy his appearance, how lifeless his aura, he was not kneeling.

He was not kneeling on the prayer mat, but sitting on it.

And he was sitting with his legs spread.