569 Entering The Sea Like A Waterfall, The Sun Rising Like A Mountain (1/2)

By the sea, on Dong Mountain, the umpteenth hurricane of the seventh year of the Qing calendar came to an end quietly and without fanfare. In the near future, this hurricane would bring much needed and difficult to attain rainwater to the wide expanse of Qing Kingdom, which was already showing signs of a small drought. Furthermore, it had been very gentle and not caused any major disasters.

At this time, after the hurricane passed over the ancient temples and old eaves on the mountaintop, the walls were ruined. Shattered tiles lined the ground. Mud flew wildly. The sight was too tragic to bear. The rain scoured the mountain and then flowed down it, creating pure white waterfalls on the jade-like precipices.

There was occasionally a streak of blood red in the waterfalls, while the mountaintop gradually became cleaner. No whiff of the stench of blood remained. Was this scene created by the might of heaven or from the Grandmasters' astonishing battle?

In reality, it was the might of heaven. The dome above Dong Mountain was slowly revealing its true appearance. The thick, black clouds were blown by powerful winds and moved at a speed observable to the naked eye as they headed west inland. A patch of bright and clear sunlight descended onto the mountaintop and onto the bodies of the most powerful warriors standing by the precipice.

He was the most powerful person in the world, bar none.

No one called him by his name because he was the Emperor of Qing Kingdom, the most powerful country in the world. He was once a general who had led three expeditions to the North and forcefully shattered the Wei Kingdom, a general that completely changed the shape of territories. He was skilled in using monarchical schemes. He was the best at silently enduring, and he was the toughest conspirator.

These three identities were enough to title him as the most powerful in the world. Yet, at the very end of the Dong Mountain attack, it exposed his last identity.

The most mysterious of the four Great Grandmasters. The strange creature that was rumored to tirelessly guard the Qing Palace. The Great Grandmaster that had forced Sigu Jian to retreat through Tyrannical power when he had entered Jingdou alone and, thus, indirectly proved his existence.

It was the Emperor of Qing Kingdom.

This was the Emperor's final trump card. Fan Xian had once wondered on what basis was the Emperor's powerful self-confidence and naturally flowing presence built on? Many people had guessed at the Emperor's trump card. In the last moment, Fan Xian had guessed the Ye family. He would never have guessed that the words ”Grandmaster” would be written on the back of this trump card.

…

…

Hong Siyang was only a cover. He was a flagpole the Royal Palace had extended from the back. Fluttering gently in the wind at night, it drew the gazes of all the wise men. Without question, the old eunuch was indeed a powerful warrior of this world. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to kill the Hu assassin with one strike in the Hanging Temple. However, it was difficult for a not-whole person to reach the peak of the heavenly way.

For the sake of killing Ku He and Sigu Jian in one go, the Qing Emperor and Eunuch Hong had worked hard and been careful about this huge setup. They had played their roles for a full 20 years.

At this time, Eunuch Hong had already gloriously completed his mission of 20 years and dissolved into a fog of blood, rinsed by the storm and cleansed by the breeze. He entered the East Sea through the white waterfall and the moist air of the woods, and soothed the earth. His life force, flesh, and blood had melded with the beautiful water and lands of Qing Kingdom, impossible to separate again.

Watching the middle-aged man in the bright-yellow dragon robe, the people who had, fortunately, survived all sank into an endless and boundless shock. Everyone's throat seemed to be squeezed by an invisible hand, unable to make a single sound.

Without question, the truth that was revealed today on the summit of Dong Mountain was the most astonishing and earth-shattering news since the sudden death of the mistress of the Ye family 20 years ago.

The buzzing of the clock in the rubble of the ancient temple gradually grew weaker and eventually fell silent.

Beside the large tree, which had shattered into countless wooden shards, the Northern Qi Imperial Advisor Ku He, in his torn hemp clothing, calmly watched the Qing Emperor standing beside the precipice with a clear light shining through his eyes. The ruthless Tyrannical zhenqi in his body finally calmed as the clock fell silent. He knew that his internal organs and 13 meridians had already been turned into a formless mass by this wave of zhenqi.

Not even a temple could save him.

Understanding the reality, he immediately accepted it. The dignity and state of mind of a Great Grandmaster made Imperial Advisor Ku He's expression calm. He looked at the Qing Emperor and gently sighed. His eyes had already seen through everything clearly. Everyone had failed. They were defeated by the opponent's 20 years of endurance and pretense.

This was a terrifying yet respectful opponent. To be able to endure silently for so long and not have a single person catch wind of it, Ku He felt that this was even more admirable than the shocking truth of the Qing Emperor being a Great Grandmaster.

Ku He involuntarily thought of the many conversations he had with the empress dowager and Emperor before he left Shangjing. At that time, that grandson of his had received some inauspicious signs. However, Ku He still came because he and Sigu Jian had made abundant preparations.

These two Great Grandmasters had not expected for the Emperor to attack.

”Clever calculations and intrigues bring nothing but one's own doom…” Ku He sighed gently. The smile that acknowledged his fate rose to his face. He involuntarily and quietly said the words that Fan Xian had recorded in a book. When it came to tenacity and silent endurance, no one of the tens of thousands of people in this world could compare to the Qing Emperor. Imperial Advisor Ku He felt no regret losing to such an opponent, even though he felt a sliver of worry for his homeland.

…

…

Just as the Emperor was going to attack, Wu Zhu grasped the metal drill tightly in his and immediately released it. He did this three times until he finally let go of the metal drill and placed his hands behind his back. The black cloth on his face fluttered in the wind and rain as they blew across his face. During the battle, everyone on the summit knelt on the ground and used the trembling of their bodies to express their fear and respect. Only he stood woodenly, watching it all with cold eyes.

Ku He sat by the tree. Sigu Jian sounded the bell. Wu Zhu turned his head slightly. The corner of his lips twitched slightly and involuntarily on his usually emotionless face.

The truth of the Emperor being a Great Grandmaster would bring great shock to the entire world. Wu Zhu still only tilted his head slightly and calmly watched the Emperor through the layer of black cloth as if he was looking at a strange object. He did not look at him like the sun in the sky.

In this instant, Wu Zhu seemed to remember something but then forgot it immediately. With great rareness, his brows furrowed. He remembered something Chen Pingping had once said. After the assassination at the Hanging temple, Chen Pingping had smiled and said that he was going to have Wu Zhu watch a show, but it hadn't happened in the end.

What show? A show where the Emperor turned into a Great Grandmaster? It looked like old cripple closets to the Emperor still managed to guess the secret that no one else in the world knew. But, why did he want Wu Zhu to watch this show?

Wu Zhu began to think. He had many things he wanted to ask the Emperor, but he didn't know where to start. With a multitude of loose ends, he couldn't pull out that one thread. Furthermore, Dong Mountain right now was not truly quiet. Although Ku He and Sigu Jian had received heavy injuries, they were not dead. Given the Emperor's personality, since he had shown his last trump card, he would not overlook anything.

Wu Zhu cut off his thoughts and quietly took a step forward.

His one step made everyone present feel a glimmer of fear and terror. Although no one knew who this black-clothed mysterious figure was, the attitude of the Great Grandmasters earlier already demonstrated that he was an ace at the level of a Grandmaster. Under the present situation, if he exploded into action, then all four Great Grandmasters, including the Emperor, would probably fall into the bloody puddles.

Wu Zhu did not attack. He only looked at the Emperor calmly.

The true movement came from deep inside the ancient temple. In extreme ruins, the piece of yellow cloth that covered Sigu Jian suddenly moved as if someone was trying to stand up under it.

With one arm broken and his body struck by a powerful punch, could Sigu Jian stand up again? Was a Great Grandmaster's body truly behind the bounds of a mortal person?

The Emperor's eyes narrowed as he looked in that direction. Everyone followed the Emperor's gaze. Ku He was not an exception. However, this Imperial Advisor only smiled tartly.

Someone tore the yellow cloth away with force. A blood-covered young man crawled out from underneath. As he coughed, he tore the yellow cloth into strips. His face was weighed down with an unswerving persistence. Although the cloth was full of blood, he didn't show a glimmer of panic. He coughed endlessly, but he didn't stop the movement of his hands.

All these eyes on Dong Mountain watched him, particularly the powerful figure who far surpassed the mortal realm. It was as if he couldn't feel it at all. He only continued his actions with his head down. He wasn't Sigu Jian. He was Sigu Jian's last disciple, Thirteenth Wang.

Once Thirteenth Wang had decided on something, he went and did it. He never cared about what others thought or how they would obstruct him. Although he was a disciple of the Sword Hut, he listened to Fan Xian's orders. He resisted the rebel soldiers at the mountain gate. Ye Liuyun had sent him flying out dozens of meters with one strike, yet he still bravely climbed to the summit.

He had been getting ready to finish his task when he saw his teacher get his right arm broken and struck to the ground.

Thus, he had stood up, torn apart the yellow cloth, and had placed his heavily injured teacher with a broken arm onto his back, securing him tightly with the strips of cloth. With a snap, his right hand chopped through a thin beam lying on the ground. He gripped it in his hand. Walking to the door of the ancient temple, he faced everyone on the summit.

Sigu Jian lay on his disciple's body. There was already a miserable hole in this chest that was bloody and dripping. It landed on Thirteenth Wang's body and then immediately fell to the ground.

There was a ruthless smile on his face, but the smile was very pleased. He was on the back of his favorite disciple.

The blood-covered Thirteenth Wang carried his blood-covered teacher on his back. The yellow strips of cloth were immediately dyed a bright red. He held the slender wooden beam in his hands. There was not a glimmer of fear on his face. He only stared ruthlessly through the yellow-robed middle-aged man.

His meaning was clear. He was going to carry Sigu Jian off the mountain, who was going to stop him?

…

…

In the mouths of later storytellers, the earth-shattering and future-affecting killing scenario on Dong Mountain was filled with many crafty changes ad killings. Those involved in this matter were all the most respected people in the world. The telling of the story was particularly exciting and stimulating. Each time, it would take more than three days and nights to finish it.

What was said during these three days and three nights was basically the events of a single second. Within this second, the Qing Emperor abruptly attacked. Ye Liuyun was heavily injured. Ku He and Sigu Jian were sentenced to death.

All of the storytellers forgot a relatively small player: Thirteenth Wang. It was because they didn't know the truth of the ending on Dong Mountain and, at that time, Thirteenth Wang was an unremarkable person when compared to the Great Grandmasters.

Although the Qing Emperor had burned through a great deal of his essence and vital energy, given his Great Grandmaster realm, it would be the work of a moment if he wanted to kill Thirteenth Wang.

Thirteenth Wang, this small fry, was still not fearful. He stared viciously into the Qing Emperor's eyes as he gripped the slender beam tightly in his hands. It was as if in the next moment, he was going to give the Emperor a beating with the wooden stick he had casually picked up.

Ye Liuyun, with a large wound in his abdomen, was sitting cross-legged not far from the Qing Emperor's side circulating his power to heal himself. Looking at this scene, he couldn't help a small smile of admiration from appearing at the corner of his lips. He sighed, ”What an incredible young man.”

Sitting cross-legged below the remains of the tree, Ku He's bitter smile also gradually became bright. Perhaps he was also thinking of his true final disciple, the one whose temperament was equal to nature, Haitang Duoduo. With a slight smile and an admiring sigh, he said, ”Each generation there are talented people born. The change in natural law describes this.”

The Qing Emperor watched this unfamiliar young man calmly. A moment later, he smiled slightly. Then, he gently moved one step to the side, making way for Thirteenth Wang carrying Sigu Jian on his back. With his dignity as an Emperor and position as a Grandmaster, he actually made way for Thirteenth Wang.