Chapter 40: New Graves Upon Old Graves, Emperor Zuo Takes Action
Chapter 40 – New Graves Upon Old Graves, Emperor Zuo Takes Action
As he spoke, Chen Changsheng reached out to strip Li Jinshui of his tattered robes.
But Li Jinshui used the last dregs of his strength to swat Chen Changsheng’s hand away.
“You little rascal, I might be stepping into the grave, but I haven’t taken the final step yet, have I?”
“Fifty autumns have passed since we last spoke. Can you not let me look upon you a moment longer?”
Hearing Li Jinshui’s words, Chen Changsheng shot him a deeply exasperated look.
“Third Senior Brother, your breath is already failing. Do not tell me you harbor some lingering obsession.”
“You know my nature. I despise worldly entanglements. Gathering corpses and conducting funeral rites is the absolute limit of my patience.”
“I am in the business of burials, not fulfilling the lingering desires of the dead.”
Provoked by Chen Changsheng’s cold logic, a sudden, fleeting vitality surged through Li Jinshui’s veins—a dying man’s final rally.
“Bullshit! Do I, your Third Senior Brother, look like a man blinded by mortal attachments?”
“What I failed to grasp in life, I will not burden others with in death.”
“I merely wished to offer my little brother a few words of praise before the end. Is that strictly forbidden by the Heavens?”
A rare, genuine smile broke across Chen Changsheng’s stoic face.
“Of course it is allowed. The Heavens know I rarely received Third Senior Brother’s praise in the past!”
“Praise is merely fuel for the Dao heart. Do not let it breed arrogance.”
The two men traded barbs just as they had centuries ago, but the warmth faded rapidly, surrendering to a heavy silence.
After a long span of time, Li Jinshui dragged his trembling hand across the earth, reaching out to trace the tombstone of Master Yuanshen.
Caressing the carved characters, a single drop of muddy, blood-tinged moisture slipped from Li Jinshui’s clouded eye.
“A mortal life is but a fleeting generation; the grass and trees wither in a single autumn. No matter how you shake the Heavens in life, you ultimately cannot escape a wooden box.”
“Peerless cultivation techniques, divine weapons, and heavenly treasures… they are all nothing but passing clouds.”
“Centuries ago, when you carved Master’s lightning-struck wood into a coffin, I merely thought you were an eccentric child.”
“Only now do I realize that within the entire Shangqing Temple, you were the only one who truly saw the Dao.”
As the final syllable left his lips, Li Jinshui’s jaw trembled uncontrollably.
It took a long while for him to steady his scattered soul, forcing a weary smile back onto his face.
“Enough sentimental drivel. Hurry up and let me inspect the coffin you have prepared for my eternal rest.”
Heeding Li Jinshui’s final request, Chen Changsheng withdrew a pristine coffin from his system space.
“Senior Brother, I have secured a coffin forged from the finest golden-thread nanmu!”
“Golden-thread nanmu will seal your mortal vessel from rot for a thousand autumns. Feel the grain.”
Supporting his brother’s failing weight, Chen Changsheng guided Li Jinshui’s hand to the polished wood.
Tracing the dense, ancient grain, Li Jinshui nodded in deep satisfaction.
“Excellent workmanship. It seems my decades of doting upon you were not entirely wasted.”
“Have you also prepared a vessel for our Grandmaster?”
“It is already waiting.”
“Forged from thousand-year lightning-struck peach wood, heavily inscribed with every Formation I possess. I guarantee Grandmaster will never rise from the earth to haunt the living.”
“When the time comes, I will bury him beside you all. The Shangqing Temple can slowly reminisce about the old days in the underworld.”
“Hahaha!”
A raucous, echoing laugh tore from Li Jinshui’s throat.
“Junior Brother, you truly leave no stone unturned in your funeral rites!”
With those final words, Li Jinshui forced his spine straight, smoothed the wrinkles from his bloodstained robes, and forever froze in that dignified posture.
Staring at the lifeless husk of Li Jinshui, Chen Changsheng calmly and methodically began the somber business of a burial.
The rites concluded, he lowered the heavy golden-thread nanmu coffin into the freshly dug earth, sealing the grave and planting a rough-hewn tombstone at its head.
Carved deeply into the stone base were three simple characters: “The Undertaker.”
Gazing upon his handiwork, Chen Changsheng silently retrieved a sealed clay jar from the void.
“Senior Brother, this is Hundred Flower Wine, brewed meticulously through ancient methods.”
“Decades ago, within the Boundless Secret Realm, I restrained Yuanshan from entering the slaughter with the other sects.”
“As was custom, I fully expected to suffer a brutal scolding from Master.”
“To evade the Penalty, I buried this wine. Half was meant to soothe Master’s fury, praying the old man would stay his heavy hand.”
“The rest was meant as a bribe for you, so you might whisper a few defending words in his ear.”
“Who could have predicted the sheer chaos that awaited us outside the Boundless Secret Realm? Blood flowed like rivers, and only today does this jar finally see the light.”
“Yet, the delay was not entirely unfortunate. Seventy autumns buried in the dark have elevated the essence of the Hundred Flower Wine to the heavens. You and Master will surely savor it.”
Tipping the clay jar, Chen Changsheng poured a slow, fragrant stream of amber liquid over the earth before the graves of his Third Senior Brother and Master Yuanshen.
Once the last drop soaked into the soil, he spoke into the quiet wind.
“Two souls sharing a single jar is undeniably stingy, but I only salvaged ten in total. I must save the rest for myself, so you two will have to make do.”
“Besides, neither of you can claw out of the dirt to strike me now.”
Leaving those final words behind, Chen Changsheng turned his back on the ruined courtyard of the Shangqing Temple.
Yet, as he stepped past the threshold, he raised a hand, offering a lazy wave to the nine silent mounds of earth without looking back.
“Master, Senior Brothers, I still have to drag Grandmaster down to see you all. I will take my leave for now!”
His voice lacked even a sliver of grief. To a man who had lived centuries, this was merely a brief parting before the inevitable reunion at the end of the Dao.
……
The blaring war horns of the Xuanwu Kingdom soon shattered the horizon.
Though the Night Moon Country had recently swallowed the Daqian Dynasty whole, the prolonged slaughter had bled the foundations of both territories dry.
Now, facing the overwhelming, monolithic might of the Xuanwu Kingdom, the Night Moon Country’s forces crumbled, retreating in continuous waves.
There were no declarations of righteousness, no superfluous demands for surrender.
Emperor Zuo ignored every desperate plea for negotiation from the Night Moon Country, flattening their strongholds with absolute, tyrannical strength.
In a mere thirty days, Emperor Zuo fractured the Night Moon Country into unrecognizable ruin.
Simultaneously, his grand army securely cordoned off the ancient lands sheltering the two bronze palaces.
“Imperial Father, the Boundless Secret Realm is fully under our banner. Only the forbidden land within the Night Moon Country, currently occupied by the Ascension True Person, remains.”
“Furthermore, emissaries from the Heavenly Buddha Temple have arrived, requesting an immediate audience.”
Zuo Xinghe relayed the martial reports to Emperor Zuo, bowing deeply.
Emperor Zuo’s gaze remained detached. “Encircle the forbidden land, but do not strike. As for the bald monks of the Heavenly Buddha Temple, let them kneel in the dirt and wait.”
“The Dao demands a beginning and an end. This tempest was born of Chen Changsheng; naturally, he must be the one to extinguish it.”
Emperor Zuo paused, his profound gaze sweeping toward the distant clouds.
“Speak of the devil. He arrives.”
A brilliant streak of sword-light pierced the horizon, expanding rapidly before violently arresting its momentum, landing softly upon the massive warship’s deck.
“Your Majesty, I ask for your leniency. I had to attend to personal matters and have arrived late.”
Watching Chen Changsheng cup his hands in a formal salute, the corners of Emperor Zuo’s mouth ticked upward.
“Not late in the slightest. Your timing is impeccable.”
“I have caged your Grandmaster within the forbidden land. He merely awaits The Undertaker to perform his final rites.”
“I must admit, the old ghost possesses some meager talent. It took me two whole strikes to shatter his avatar.”
“Furthermore, it appears your old acquaintance is aware of your return.”
“Tell me, do you intend to conduct your Grandmaster’s funeral first, or reunite with your old friend?”
Hearing the options presented, Chen Changsheng offered a knowing grin.
“I shall visit my old friend first. While my Grandmaster might be nothing more than an insect in Your Majesty’s eyes…”
“…I am vastly outmatched. If the old man burns his essence in a desperate death-throe, I lack the profound cultivation to survive the blast.”
“Therefore, it is vastly safer for Your Majesty and me to divide our efforts.”
“Hahaha!”
Emperor Zuo threw his head back in laughter, pointing a heavy finger at Chen Changsheng.
“I truly admire this absolute pragmatism of yours.”
“Very well. I shall batter your Grandmaster until only a single breath remains, granting you two ample time for a final reunion.”
The laughter fading, Emperor Zuo vanished. In the blink of an eye, he materialized high above the forbidden land, drew back his right arm, and unleashed a world-shattering punch.
BOOM!
A colossal fist imprint cratered the earth. Every mountain peak and riverbed within a hundred-mile radius was pulverized into fine, choking dust.
Chen Changsheng stared in silence.
Just how monstrous is this man’s physical strength?