Chapter 112: Descending the Mountain

Their strengths were almost evenly matched, but at this moment, Xu Cheng held a slight edge.

“Again!”

Zhang Yangshuo’s eyes blazed with endless blue light, clearly determined to fight with all his might.

Observing his opponent’s post-explosion state through the Underworld Eye, Xu Cheng suddenly gained some insight. Then, with a loud shout, he declared, “The Primordial Feathered Immortal Technique: Myriad Source Seal!”

This Myriad Source Seal could tap into the source of magical power, drawing various attributes of mana from the boundless void and converting them into attribute-free power, which was then infused into Xu Cheng. With the Myriad Source Seal activated, his magical power seemed virtually limitless.

With a resonant hum, endless lightning appeared around the Heavenly Circuit. Seeing Zhang Yangshuo’s desperate push, Zhang Huamao appeared between Xu Cheng and Zhang Yangshuo, using his overwhelming strength to suppress him. Instantly, Zhang Yangshuo, who had been on the verge of a full burst, reverted to his original state.

“Yangshuo, you have lost!”

Encased completely in lightning, Zhang Huamao continued.

“Ancestor, I haven’t lost! I haven’t even used the spell that stimulates my power with heavenly thunder!” Zhang Yangshuo said bitterly, clearly unwilling to admit defeat.

“Do you think you have such a technique alone? What about others?” Zhang Huamao replied calmly, then gestured toward Xu Cheng, who was emitting a wild black magical aura.

Zhang Yangshuo glanced at Xu Cheng repeatedly, surprised but still defiant.

“I lost only in magical attributes! It’s not that you defeated me!” Zhang Yangshuo snorted coldly and then turned away, transforming into streaks of lightning as he left.

The crowd in the stands murmured loudly.

“Senior brother actually lost?”

“He must have let him win!”

“Didn’t you hear him? It’s a matter of magical attributes!”

“Our Heavenly Master Sect cultivates the Five Thunder Technique, acting as Heaven’s executor of punishment. Any spell would pale in comparison before our sect. It can’t just be about spell attributes!”

...

The continuous chatter left Xu Cheng at a loss for words as he waited quietly for the Heavenly Master Ancestor Zhang Huamao to speak.

“Silence!” Zhang Huamao commanded. Immediately, the crowd fell silent.

“That is correct. All spells cultivated by our Heavenly Master Sect are the Five Thunder Technique, executing Heaven’s judgment, indeed superior to others. But as the saying goes, spells themselves are neither good nor evil; it depends solely on the person wielding them.

Therefore, to truly master the essence of our Five Thunder Technique, one must first cultivate a heart of supreme righteousness and absolute fairness—like a balanced scale.

It is not that merely learning the Dao means you embody justice; it is your heart. Remember this well!” Zhang Huamao pointed to his chest as he addressed those in the stands.

“We will keep this in mind!” the crowd bowed in unison.

“Now, disperse and meditate on this. In this duel, the Underworld Envoy is victorious!” Zhang Huamao declared. As the crowd departed, he swept his sleeve, and the duel platform rose into the clouds, vanishing completely.

Xu Cheng, sensing with his spirit the disappearance of the platform, wondered where such a large stage had gone.

“My young disciple’s personality is too stubborn, always thinking his actions are right. Unaware that his good intentions often cause harm. Truly, there’s no helping him!” Zhang Huamao rubbed his head repeatedly. Given his cultivation, he shouldn’t suffer mundane headaches—so Zhang Yangshuo’s antics must have been truly vexing.

Seizing the moment, Xu Cheng said, “Then why not let me take charge of him?”

“Envoy, do you have a good idea?” Zhang Huamao asked, hoping Xu Cheng had a plan.

But Xu Cheng shook his head immediately.

“This...” Zhang Huamao hesitated, unsure whether to entrust Zhang Yangshuo to Xu Cheng.

At that moment, Zhang Taiping appeared and said, “I’ll take the time to educate Yangshuo properly.”

The hot-tempered ancestor immediately gave Zhang Taiping a playful thump and said, “With your soft heart, if you hadn’t spoiled Yangshuo every day, would he be like this now?”

“Ancestor... please save me some face!” Zhang Taiping whispered as he glanced at Xu Cheng.

“Forget it, we’ll discuss this later!” Zhang Huamao nodded, straightening his robes.

Xu Cheng, unwilling to overstay, bowed respectfully. “I must continue investigating the ghosts and spirits. I won’t trouble you further.”

“That’s fine. If you are pursued again by unknown ghosts, just channel your power into this token. I will be notified and can come to aid you,” Zhang Huamao said, producing a token forged from an unknown black metal, inscribed with two characters—Heavenly Master.

Xu Cheng’s heart lifted. He accepted it gratefully and tucked it away. If he encountered powerful ghosts again, he wouldn’t wander helplessly but could summon this Heavenly Master ancestor for help.

Descending from the Heavenly Master Sect’s sacred grounds atop Mount Wuzhi, Xu Cheng felt a touch of anxiety. Though safe, his mind was on Yan Mengdie and Ju Hua. In their hurried escape, he hadn’t noticed which direction they fled.

Though heavy snow sealed the mountains, it did not slow Xu Cheng. He followed the path down to the nearest town.

The town was now under the control of Gunzhou. He silently noted how swift their actions were.

He observed red lanterns hanging from every household—New Year was approaching.

At the eastern end of town, the butcher Tu Laosan was busy that day, earning more than ten taels of silver. Carrying his full earnings with light steps and a joyful heart, he hummed a tune with a peculiar charm.

Xu Cheng, deep in thought, collided with Tu Laosan, causing some silver coins to scatter on the ground.

“You clumsy person...!” Tu Laosan began to scold but suddenly remembered it was the last day of the year. The fiery anger on his forehead quickly died down. He quietly said, “Watch your step.”

Then he gathered the scattered coins and walked away without looking back.

Watching his retreating figure, Xu Cheng took a second look—not because of the man himself, but the five ghostly pigs trailing behind him. These were no ordinary shadows but the vengeful spirits of pigs.

Yet the pig spirits dared not draw too close, deterred by the butcher’s cleaver, which emanated a bloodthirsty aura. Having been baptized through slaughter, the cleaver had become a magical weapon.

Since the butcher seemed unharmed, Xu Cheng refrained from lingering. With a silent sigh, he thought, “Indeed, all things in the world undergo reincarnation. If Shen Qingshu were reborn as a pig, and Zian as well, what then?”

He pushed the thought aside and continued walking alone through the snowy night like a wanderer returning home.

One by one, households closed their doors, awaiting the arrival of the new year.

By the roadside, a beggar’s face was red from the cold. Having once been a beggar himself, Xu Cheng felt moved and tossed a few silver bars his way. The beggar leapt up excitedly and hurried home early.

It was New Year’s after all—even beggars celebrated the festival.