Lu Sheng searched the shelves for a moment before his gaze finally settled on a small wooden box. Inside lay the Nine Lakes Steel Chains Skill.
From the name alone, it was clear the creator had once lived a life upon the open seas, forging this hard body technique out of wind, salt, and waves.
Committing the name to memory, Lu Sheng headed straight for the overseeing counter on the second floor.
“I’m External Affairs Emissary Lu Sheng. I want to withdraw the Nine Lakes Steel Chains Skill for perusal.” He handed his command medallion to the white-haired elder behind the counter.
The elder regarded him with narrowed eyes. A subtle ripple of inner force flickered across his body before vanishing without a trace—proof that he, too, was no ordinary figure.
Turning the medallion over in his hands, the elder spoke. “Nine Lakes Steel Chains Skill is a Strength Proficiency Realm manual. External Affairs Emissaries may peruse only one manual below Spirit Focus for free each year—are you certain this is your choice?”
“I’m sure.” Lu Sheng’s reply came steady and firm.
“Very well.” The elder turned to the locked cupboards behind him, rifling through rows of drawers until he retrieved a pale-blue, stitched manual from a mahogany case. “Keep it safe. And remember—do not let it fall into the hands of outsiders, or the Sect’s rules will be enforced.”
“Naturally.” Lu Sheng nodded. He accepted the small manual and flipped it open. The pages were densely filled with neat lines of text outlining the technique. It was clearly a copied version—one of those Strength Proficiency manuals that required no intent diagram. Skills like these were the easiest to spread; after all, copying words alone was enough to pass them on.
Manual in hand, Lu Sheng stepped out of the Martial Proclamation Court. His yearly entitlement to a free manual was now spent; any further techniques he wished to study would require Sect contribution points. And with the Song Manor incident still unresolved, his current contributions remained at a bleak zero. It was only through the old Sect Master’s leniency that he still held his position at all.
‘Now, I should return and restore both mind and body. If possible, I need to finish transforming Blood Fury Skill into the Ultimate Crimson Mantra before the duel.’
With that thought, Lu Sheng descended from the Crimson Whale ship, clutching the manual as he made his way back to his residence in Mountain-Edge City, seeking rest and calm.
…………
Three days slipped by in an instant.
Deep within the eastern mountains lay the Long Rift Gorge. A ribbon of emerald water wound through the forested peaks before plunging into the gorge, bursting into a waterfall as white as scattered snow. It crashed down in a sweeping arc, sending up a billowing mist that drifted through the air like drifting silk.
On the crescent-shaped riverbank opposite the falls, Gongsun Zhanglan stood with his hands clasped behind him, clad in flowing green robes. The shallow water lapped around his boots as he stared quietly at the mist rising from the cascade. Two figures accompanied him—his sworn brother, the Mountain-Edge hero Fang Zhidong, and Fang’s wife, Zhang Huishu, the mother of Gongsun Jing.
The three waited in solemn silence for Lu Sheng to arrive for their duel.
Off to the side, an old bamboo raft floated gently on the river. Sitting upon it were the old Sect Master Hong Mingzi and Elder Wang, watching the scene unfold without a word. They had caught wind of the death match between Lu Sheng and Gongsun Zhanglan and had come in secret to witness it.
“Junior apprentice brother’s strength is a mystery,” Hong Mingzi said quietly. “When I exchanged a few strokes with him, I could feel clearly that he was holding back. As for Zhanglan, his Prime Mystic Palm is frighteningly potent. Anyone struck by it would have their meridians shattered instantly. The force even follows the channels to damage the organs. That is the result of over fifty years of unyielding cultivation. It will not be something easy to withstand.”
Elder Wang waved a hand dismissively. “Old Sect Master, what’s there to fear with you here? If things go badly, you can simply step in and save Brother Lu’s life.”
“It’s not that simple. Chen Ying is away tending to important matters, and Zhanglan chose this moment to issue his challenge. He even brought Fang Zhidong along. His intent is clear—he means to hold me in check, even if only for a short while, long enough for him to do whatever he wishes.” A faint sorrow surfaced in the old Sect Master’s eyes. “A pity… if only we had more time. Had Chen Ying been here, there would be nothing to worry about.”
Elder Wang blinked in surprise. “Huh? Sect Master, you’re not confident in Brother Lu’s chances?”
Hong Mingzi shook his head slowly. “Just somewhat concerned. His strength is indeed remarkable, but he is still young. In a battle like this, even a moment’s hesitation could allow a fatal strike to land.”
At that, Elder Wang’s expression tightened, concern creeping into his features.
“It’s unfortunate my Big Bro is still on his way here. Old Sect Master, you acted too quickly.” He sighed. “Brother Lu’s skill is our family’s heirloom—Heart Shattering Palm. If he could have become my Big Bro’s disciple… er…”
He trailed off, finally realizing the imbalance in his own words. If Lu Sheng truly had strength to match Gongsun Zhanglan, then even his Big Bro would struggle to qualify as his Master.
…………
The noontime sun beat down mercilessly, its glare sharp enough to sting the eyes.
At the bow of the boat, Lu Sheng sat in silence, gaze fixed on the river’s glass-still surface. His scholar’s white robes caught the harsh sunlight, reflecting it in a soft sheen that made him stand out sharply against the tranquil waters.
Beside him stood Ning San, small in build and wrapped in a simple bundle of black clothes that served as his disguise. With his youthful appearance, he looked more like a timid student accompanying his teacher.
Behind them, a cluster of young masters and young ladies filled the rear deck, chattering endlessly in bright, sparrow-like bursts of laughter. They were all bound for Long Rift Gorge to enjoy the scenery. Since this was a private boat heading the same way, Lu Sheng and Ning San had simply accepted a ride, sparing themselves a long walk. Whatever noise the others made was none of their concern.
A slightly tipsy, handsome young master staggered over from the deck, beaming. “Brother, you have an extraordinary bearing. Why sit alone at the bow? Why not join us and enjoy the view together?”
He was Bian Su, the one who had invited the two aboard after overhearing them ask about the route to Long Rift Gorge.
Lu Sheng smiled. “There’s no need. I shouldn’t intrude on your gathering. Being able to ride along is already more than enough.” Originally, he had planned to arrange a Sect boat, but because the entire affair had to be kept quiet—and because he had only remembered the river route at the last moment—it was too late to find another vessel. Accepting Bian Su’s offer had been their only choice.
Yet despite Bian Su’s commanding air, Lu Sheng could tell at a glance from the slender figure and delicate skin that this “young master” was, in truth, a young lady in disguise.
It seemed this boat existed solely for leisurely outings. From the moment Lu Sheng stepped aboard, he could sense the undercurrent of hostility from the other passengers. Their sidelong glances carried thinly veiled contempt, as though they would rather he and Ning San had not come aboard at all.
With his sharp senses, Lu Sheng easily overheard their hushed conversations throughout the journey. From those snippets, he pieced together the truth of young master Bian Su’s situation. “He” was, in fact, a young lady who had run away from home. The group accompanying her supposedly came as companions on an excursion—but their intentions were anything but pure. Several times, Bian Su had tried to send word back to her family, only to be persuaded or manipulated into giving up the idea. They were clearly planning something.
In short, the runaway young miss had fallen in with a dangerous crowd, and the Bian family seemed utterly unaware of her whereabouts.
After gently declining Bian Su’s invitation, Lu Sheng watched her weave unsteadily back toward the others before turning his gaze once more to the calm river ahead.
Ning San leaned closer and whispered, “Young Master, the people around young master Bian don’t seem very happy that we’re hitching a ride.”
“I know,” Lu Sheng replied without much interest.
Ning San blinked. “Then… Young Master, why did you…?”
“We couldn’t find another boat on short notice,” Lu Sheng said, distracted.
“But they don’t even welcome us…” Ning San murmured helplessly.
“All we need is a boat. Whether they welcome us is their problem. Whether we board it is ours.” Lu Sheng’s tone remained even.
Ning San hesitated, then asked, “But what if they don’t let us board?”
Lu Sheng didn’t even look away from the river. “Then we’ll make them get off.”
Ning San could only stare, speechless.
“…”
He nearly choked on his own saliva. In all his time within the Crimson Whale Sect, he had never encountered anyone as boldly unreasonable as his own Boss—not even the legendary old Sect Master in his youth.
Lu Sheng gave a small shrug. “We’re men living in chaotic times. No need to fuss over such trivial matters. We’re meant for greater things.” He patted Ning San’s shoulder, leaving the poor fellow unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Of course, Lu Sheng was mostly jesting. By nature, he was not the domineering type. He simply knew that the boat’s true owner, Bian Su, had sincerely wished to help them. As for the others—they were not the boat master, so their displeasure was irrelevant.
The vessel picked up speed, cutting through the water as it made its way toward Long Rift Gorge.
Bird calls and monkey screeches echoed from the dense forests lining both shores. At one point, a massive black bird nearly a meter long swooped overhead, drawing startled cries and excited chatter from the passengers.
Bian Su, seated among a group of men and women, was clearly tipsy but continued to exchange drinks with them.
Suddenly—
“BA-THUMP.”
The ship lurched violently, trembling as if it had struck rock.
“What’s going on?”
“What happened?!”
Shouts and curses erupted across the deck.
The captain and crew rushed out, bewildered. They swore there had never been reefs in this part of the river—yet somehow, obstacles seemed to have appeared overnight.
Bian Su pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead and rose unsteadily. Rejecting several more offered cups, she wandered toward the side of the ship to clear her head with the cool air.
Softly, she murmured to herself, “Grand Uncle… which family should I entrust that thing to?”
No one stood near her. The words drifted away unheard—except by the one man aboard with senses sharp enough to catch them.
“It’s up to Young Miss to decide. Now that the Old Master has passed, that thing brings nothing but calamity. It doesn’t matter who receives it—so long as it stays with us, trouble will follow.” The ancient, raspy voice drifted beside her.
Bian Su fell silent. She couldn’t bear the thought of parting with the object; it was a family heirloom passed down through countless generations. Yet she also knew she had no power to protect it.
“I fled from the Central Plains all the way to the Northern Lands… and they still managed to track us down.” She exhaled heavily, sobriety returning to her eyes in an instant.
A flash of movement caught her attention. “Hey… what’s that baldy who hitched a ride doing?”175Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNMlnY4Bxlu
From the corner of her eye, she saw Lu Sheng rise and walk toward the very tip of the bow, as if preparing for something.
Grand Uncle appeared at her side, equally puzzled. “He…?”
“BOOM!!!”
The ship convulsed violently from bow to stern, as though an enormous weight had slammed into its deck. The entire hull tipped forward.
Lu Sheng had stomped down with his right foot. An immense force erupted outward from beneath him, rippling across the deck in a shockwave. A heartbeat later, his body shot into the air like a fired cannonball, streaking toward the distant shore. Excitement lit his eyes.
On the riverbank, Gongsun Zhanglan brought his palms together, his beard and robes whipping about in the wind. Faint popping sounds echoed from the tightening muscles across his body as a concentrated, overwhelming inner force gathered at his palms.
His icy gaze locked onto the airborne Lu Sheng, murderous intent gleaming like cold steel.
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