Chapter 129: Nervous Tension

Chapter 129: Nervous Tension

Wu Hong was startled inwardly—he hadn’t even noticed Wang Biluo behind him. His mind was simply too cluttered! Now, upon careful observation, his face turned somewhat awkward.

It turned out he was not the only one restless at night. Along the lakeshore, several figures were quietly admiring the scenery—all of whom were people who troubled Wu Hong’s thoughts. There was the graceful and elegant Li Ruolan, the cold and ruthless Huang Ling, Wu Lie, the stout Han envoy, and Wu Tenglan. These familiar faces were scattered in various corners along the shore, each contemplating their own worries without disturbing the others. Wu Hong’s arrival instantly shattered the tranquil atmosphere.

What puzzled Wu Hong the most was the presence of the Venerable Xuanbei, abbot of Xiaolin Temple, quietly meditating by the lake.

As for Xiao Dongfang, she had returned to the Minister of Rites’ residence to rest.

In short, all these people were acquaintances of Wu Hong’s, some of whom were particularly vexing to him.

“Wow, so lively by the lake at this hour! Everywhere I look, there are people—no one can sleep, huh?” Li Yunda suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

The abbot Xuanbei opened his eyes suddenly, a gleam flashing through them. Seeing Li Yunda’s arrival, he immediately approached Wu Hong and said, “Ah! Greetings, King Wu Wei. Your royal brow shines golden—clearly a sign of accomplishment in our Buddhist cultivation. Truly commendable.”

Li Yunda’s expression darkened upon seeing Xuanbei. “Bald donkey, you’re here too?!”

His face grew bitter. Indeed, Xuanbei had been pestering him ever since their parting in the Heavenly Book’s miniature world, only ceasing after they left that realm.

At that time, Li Yunda’s cultivation was low. He couldn’t defeat Xuanbei in combat, and no matter how much he cursed, Xuanbei remained unfazed, tormenting Li Yunda to the brink of madness.

Since then, it seemed Xuanbei had fixated on Li Yunda. For over two years, no matter what gatherings he attended, he couldn’t escape meeting the abbot. Seeing Xuanbei’s solemn monk-like figure again at the royal palace today, he was naturally agitated.

“Bald donkey, I’m coming for you—” Li Yunda roared, leaving behind a blur as he charged at Xuanbei.

Wu Hong quickly cast an energy shield around them. They were both formidable masters at the postnatal Great Perfection stage; if they truly fought, it wouldn’t only level the palace but cause utter chaos.

Xuanbei, delighted rather than alarmed by Li Yunda’s speed, said, “Ah, Li Dharma Protector, your progress is truly swift. You’ve advanced to the postnatal Great Perfection realm in such a short time—most commendable.”

“Oh, my disciple, how can you be so rude as to hit my head—”

“Bald donkey, I’m about to give you a swollen head, so you can hurry and pay respects to your Tathagata Buddha…”

The two grappled fiercely, their true qi clashing and surging against Wu Hong’s protective energy armlet.

Onlookers along the lakeshore were dumbfounded.

“Am I seeing things? That’s the abbot of Xiaolin Temple! Yet he’s evenly matched with a fat man?”

Many by the lake whispered among themselves, watching the brawl.

That night, the Wu Wei royal palace was unusually lively.

In the capital of Bianjing, at the Minister of Rites’ mansion, Xiao Dongfang held in her hands the Innate Wood Spirit Art that Wu Hong had given her. Her face flickered through various expressions. With trembling hands, she flipped through the techniques.

Compared to the original text, this manual was more detailed, filled with densely packed, tiny annotations written by Wu Hong himself.

The Wood Spirit Art allowed cultivation even with a crippled body, provided one reached the innate realm.

This Art was said to restore one’s original form, perhaps enabling some transgender individuals to regain their true appearance.

At its pinnacle, the Wood Spirit Art could grant a terrifying physical state—no matter how grievous the injury, as long as true qi remained, the body could fully recover.

Xiao Dongfang’s feelings were complex. Initially, she had been determined to revert to a male body. Yet now, she found herself gradually growing fond of being a woman.

Everywhere she went, countless men admired her, filling her with unparalleled pride. She also realized that the Sunflower Manual she cultivated must have been tampered with. It was originally a strange technique designed for self-castrated men to become women.

Of course, the cost was severe, but the gains were tremendous. Xiao Dongfang had now advanced to the postnatal Great Perfection realm, with few rivals aside from Wu Hong—truly formidable.

Her true qi was extraordinarily peculiar, and her weaponry consisted of thousands of tiny embroidered needles, ruthlessly effective and nearly impossible to defend against.

“Hmph—So what if I’m a woman now? Wu Hong, I don’t know whether to thank you or curse you!” At the same time, Xiao Dongfang recalled the rapid heartbeat she felt while dancing with Wu Hong at the ball, momentarily lost in thought. The Innate Wood Spirit Art in her hands was already ignited by invisible true qi, slowly burning to ashes.

“From today onward, there is no longer the old Wang Liang—only the present and future Master Dongfang!” she declared resolutely.

A similar scene unfolded at Xiao Hongfei’s residence, where Xiao Fei trembled as he held the Innate Wood Spirit Art, voice quivering as he eagerly sat cross-legged to begin cultivation.

In a desolate mountain forest, a thin, sallow young man bore a terrifying scar over his heart slowly healing. Suddenly, his true qi surged wildly, shaking the surrounding trees to their roots.

“I am the real Wu Hong! I will reclaim everything that is mine! How much I hate this!” His voice was so loud that all the beasts in the forest fled the next day.

In a mysterious place abundant with spiritual energy—so dense it was almost liquid in the air, far surpassing the Heavenly Book miniature world by tenfold—a middle-aged man sat in meditation. Suddenly opening his eyes, a trace of unease crossed his face as he murmured, “Has something happened to Hong’er? Why do I feel such restlessness?”

Yet this man seemed unable to leave this place. After some time, he ceased pondering and closed his eyes to continue cultivating.

At dawn the next day, Yang Wei led officials and numerous martial arts leaders to a mountain where Wu Hong was to compete against a formidable Han warrior in a test of destructive power.

Wu Hong’s cultivation was already quite high, and since the contest was about destructive force, the imperial palace was unsuitable.

The group arrived at a barren mountain. The land was scorched yellow, devoid of any grass.

Wu Hong, accompanied by his friends and Wu Songran, arrived early with Emperor Yang Wei to await the Han envoy’s expert, who was racing from afar.

“The Han envoy? Are you sure your expert will arrive today?” Elder Li voiced everyone’s concern.

The stout envoy responded confidently, “Definitely. We agreed that this contest would test martial destructive power.”

The envoy smiled mysteriously.

Wu Hong was intrigued, as were the thousands gathered to watch.

Besides several tall mountains, there was nothing else in sight.

Suddenly, a thunderous beast’s roar echoed from the distance, shaking the earth and causing the entire mountain range to tremble.

“What’s that sound? Could there really be a wild beast in Huangshi Mountain?” many wondered.

Only the three Han envoys appeared excited, uttering, “It’s coming, it’s coming!”

The crowd exchanged glances, suspecting the mysterious expert might not be human.

From the roar’s power—originating over a hundred miles away—they could tell the beast was extraordinary.

Anticipation and excitement stirred among the spectators.

If Wu Hong won easily, it would be no surprise.

Wu Hong furrowed his brow slightly. The sound unsettled him, extinguishing his earlier playful thoughts and settling his mind.