Chapter 17: The Five Great Families

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Yuan Jinyu glanced at the items placed on the outer table: an incense burner and some unlit incense. Although Long Qi appeared to be unconscious on the surface, in reality, his spiritual consciousness was chatting idly with the spirit of the Reincarnation Nine Dragon Hall. She had witnessed many grand occasions, yet it was her first time seeing a flying treasure like the towering structure before her. Judging from the boatman’s demeanor, there was definitely something amiss. Could it be that the great formation in the sea had changed? Chong Jing could only think of this possibility.

Ji Quan was, after all, a master—a true cultivator. If even he found the situation thorny, then surely they had provoked someone or some nation that should not be crossed. Still, it was perhaps too soon to dwell on such matters. Zi Jin smiled and shook her head; as lovely as the idea was, their fief was in Jinguancheng, and sooner or later they would have to return. As for the aunt who wished to play matchmaker for him, she still sat in the parlor, not even having sipped her tea before the matter fell through.

Meanwhile, Sun Qing, the legitimate eldest son of the Marquis of Yongshun, and Zou Jinke, son of Princess Xuanhe, together with Dou Jianping and Dou Jian’an from the Dou family, had been growing ever closer, often drinking and carousing together. In just a few days, they seemed as if they were brothers-in-arms, ready to face life and death side by side.

After speaking, the two men flicked their robes and departed gracefully, leaving it unclear whether they believed Wu Shigou’s earnest declarations. “They likely know nothing. Since the other side killed this one, it’s probably only him who knew anything,” Bu Fan remarked.

Monuo stared at the bowl of gray-black noodle soup before him, dark pickles and glistening chunks of fat pork floating atop. As for identification, he opted for a forged one; though expensive, there was no other way.

Chen Hao listened as he tasted the tea, trying to imagine the sensation of playing that tune himself, but found his skill vastly inferior to Li Bai’s—by more than a hundred thousand miles.

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At this moment, only Li Bai and Li Yao knew what was going on; the others wore bewildered expressions. Moreover, the distance was no trivial matter—the group walked a full day and night before finally stopping on a hillside. Seeing that Chenchen did not immediately agree, Lan Xin was not discouraged. She already had some gains and knew this was not a matter to be rushed.

After eating his fill, he chased those two women out, took a comfortable bath, and fell asleep before his head even touched the pillow. Moxuan merely smiled faintly and said nothing. Although he had no idea what the old man was up to, he trusted that if the other said the item was useful, it was unlikely to be a trick—after all, the old man had nothing to gain by deceiving him.

They had never spoken before, not even once. It was only last month, when Donghui Court hosted a banquet, that Danhe and Princess Fengyang attended together. Danhe sweetly called him “Third Cousin,” her syrupy voice making him extremely uncomfortable.

Now, in Luoyang. Or rather, what was left of Luoyang after the fires had been quenched—hell on earth, a true inferno.

“Of course, I’ve made a full recovery. I feel great now!” Jordan had no wish to linger on the matter.

The two attackers struck in unison—one slashing at Chen Changan’s thigh with a blade, the other thrusting a spear at his back. Chen Changan twisted aside, dodged the spear, and with a swift counter, stabbed the swordsman’s thigh. Spinning his sword, he parried the spear, and with a sideways sweep, the weapon snapped in two.

Qin Shiyun shoved Chen Ping away, her face flushed. “You really have no shame,” she muttered, fleeing into the house.

Just as he pulled out his phone, his peripheral vision caught sight of a large shop at the street corner. Perhaps it was Shen Zuihuan’s gentle tone that night, or maybe he relied on her amnesia and the presence of Gu Tang at his side.

No sooner had the words fallen than the bald brute and his men lost their heads, literally, before even glimpsing the night watchman.

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The cool and damp night breeze swept by in waves, yet it could not dissipate the flush on Shen Zuihuan’s face. As Xu Que saluted, a divine decree appeared in the sky, and immediately, his name was inscribed on the master’s plaque at the distant Cangshan Sanctuary.

The eldest princess, on the other hand, felt not the least bit tired. She had spent the entire afternoon in the palace doing nothing but sipping tea, munching seeds, and watching the high-and-mighty couple bicker—a spectacle for all.

Surprised at heart, Night Snow was suddenly reminded of that powerful opponent from the Libra clan with whom he once clashed—a ninja named Libra Chuan. Remembering that Libra Chuan’s body was still sealed away in his scroll, Night Snow now wished he could hand the corpse over to Orochimaru, hoping he might study it further.

“Yes!” The three responded with lowered heads, their subordinates bowing as well. Yet before they could even see the so-called “Rain Protector,” a streak of blue light flashed into the distance.

Chaos reigned on the river—the ships at the front began to turn, while many behind still pressed forward. Suddenly, a roaring fire erupted on the water ahead, as if a dragon of flame was racing across the waves, surging swiftly toward the Jiangdong army’s vessels.

At this very moment, Buqu moved through the illusion formation like a ghost, advancing step by step, his figure flickering unpredictably. Sometimes, taking a step forward, he vanished from sight; sometimes, a step brought him backward. Each step was enigmatic, as if he could move in any direction at will.

With this thought, he promptly left his room and headed downstairs. Just as he stepped outside, the card reappeared before him.

But the more he tried to convince himself, the less cheerful he felt. Even Naruto himself did not know why this was the case.