Chapter 132: Following the Right Person

A difficult beast-fighting match came to an end.

Young Yuan Yi and young Yuan Dasheng walked through the deserted alleys.

Yuan Dasheng was covered in numerous wounds, every step pulling at its lacerations and causing it to bare its teeth in agony.

Yuan Yi touched his pocket, which held his only three and a half spirit stones.

With a hardened resolve, he finally spoke, "Dasheng, stay here for a moment. I'll go check out that apothecary over there—at least I can buy you a plaster!"

As Yuan Yi left, Yuan Dasheng staggered, leaning its back against the cold wall before slowly sliding down to sit on the ground.

It panted heavily. The mere motion of sitting down aggravated its injuries, quickening its heartbeat from the pain.

The alley was deserted and dim; it felt as though it were the only living thing left in the world.

Suddenly, the sound of a gong rang out.

Subconsciously, Yuan Dasheng raised its eyes toward the sound, which came from behind the opposite wall.

Shortly after, a series of drumbeats sounded, and a host's voice called out, "Next, we invite Lord Li Leifeng to perform a puppet show for the venerable family head! The piece is titled *Qin Lie Charges the Array*."

The next moment, a mechanical stage slowly rose, revealing a dazzling array of exquisitely crafted puppets of various shapes as the performance began.

Yuan Dasheng looked up, peering through the gaps in the foliage at the puppets interacting as if they were real people—speaking to one another, fighting and retreating in a bustling spectacle.

Li Leifeng's manipulation skills were consummate and sublime. Amidst the sounds of gongs, drums, zithers, and bells, Yuan Dasheng gradually forgot its physical pain and became completely mesmerized.

The drama progressed steadily, reaching its climactic turning point: treacherous villains conspired and falsely accused Qin Lie of harboring military ambitions and harboring a rebellious heart.

The young ruler issued three successive imperial edicts, disregarding the elderly General Qin Lie's severe injuries and stubbornly ordering him to charge the enemy lines.

With three battle flags thrust into his back, the aged General Qin Lie struggled to his feet, raised his heavy spear, and stepped forward with steps as heavy as mountains toward the battlefield ahead.

He sang: "Since youth I've received grace, the foundational master's nurturing grace, vast as mountains, etched in my heart. He taught me loyalty to protect the realm, and endowed me with wisdom and valor to stand between heaven and earth."

"The late master's grace, like father and brother, raised me to maturity, taught me loyalty and righteousness, and bestowed upon me wisdom and courage."

The sound of the gongs was steady and powerful, as if proclaiming the solemnity and tragic heroism of the battle.

He sang again: "I supported the young ruler in his youth, acting as father and brother, giving my utmost strength. Though subjected to suspicion, my heart harbors no resentment; I only wish for the dynasty to stand eternal."

"The young ruler is young, and I supported his ascension, guarding him like a fragile sapling hoping he would grow into a forest. Though burdened by suspicion, I feel no resentment, praying only that you may restore the nation's fortune."

The jinghu emitted a high-pitched, clear tone—at times mournful and heart-wrenching, pulling at the emotions, and at times melodious, expressing Qin Lie's lingering expectations.

Old General Qin Lie plunged into the thick of battle like a peerless lion, sending heads rolling and chilling the hearts of the enemy.

He sang once more: "Though my body is old, my ambition remains undimmed; my blood stains the battlefield to repay the nation's grace. The late master's heroic spirit smiles in heaven, and I have no regrets charging onto the battlefield."

The barrel drum sounded, its beat deep and passionate like galloping warhorses, magnificent in scale.

Yuan Dasheng's blood surged with passion as it watched.

Fighting for a long time without retreating, his wounds worsened and his stamina exhausted, Qin Lie finally found himself trapped on the battlefield.

No matter how desperately his loyal men charged to rescue him, they could not pierce the thick enemy formations.

Knowing his doom was sealed, Qin Lie threw back his head and chanted loudly: "The late master's grace is forever engraved in my heart, the young ruler's revival is my constant concern. To spill blood on the battlefield is not in vain; my soul returns to my homeland to comfort the late master!"

"What is there to fear of the enemy? Ten thousand horses are not to be dreaded!"

"My death is not for fame, wealth, or glory, but solely for this heart of absolute loyalty!"

"Recalling the deep grace of the late master in days past, how can I retreat when the nation faces crisis!"

"Young ruler, may you know that a loyal subject has no regrets and can lay down his life. After my death, may you understand how to guard the realm with unwavering loyalty!"

The rhythm of the gongs and drums shifted multiple times, capturing both the tense intensity of combat and the tragic desolation of parting.

In the end, Qin Lie and the enemy general perished almost in mutual destruction!

At the very end of his life, facing the direction of the imperial capital, he knelt on one knee and cupped his fists in salute: "My lord, this general takes his leave!"

A single heavy strike of the drum made the entire stage tremble.

Abruptly, the suona blared—its voice high, piercing, and laden with tragic grandeur, as if piercing through time and space to strike straight at Yuan Dasheng's heart.

The suona's wail continued for a moment before the flute joined in.

The flute notes were crisp and melodious, at times winding and low, at times soaring and passionate.

Finally, the sound rose high like a bluebird taking flight into the void, soaring onward until its distant form gradually vanished into the vast blue sky.

Yuan Dasheng looked up, speechless for a long time!

This was its first time watching a puppet show. It had already learned to understand human speech, and both its body and mind were profoundly shaken.

"Dasheng! Dasheng!"

Yuan Yi ran back, holding a few plasters in his hand.

He laughed, "What good fortune! The apothecary was clearing out its stock today, so I got a bargain and managed to get a few extra plasters!"

"Come, let me put them on for you!"

Yuan Dasheng allowed Yuan Yi to tend to its wounds, looking alternately at Yuan Yi and the puppets on the elevated stage.

The lantern light cast a fiery glow upon its face. Across the wall, the crowd was celebrating, and the sound of applause continuously lingered in its ears.

"Let's go. Why are you still sitting there like a fool?"

Yuan Yi stood up and took a step forward.

Yuan Dasheng reached out and pointed at the stage across the way.

Yuan Yi turned back, unimpressed. "Oh. It's just a puppet show!"

He glanced at it again. "It's *Qin Lie Charges the Array*, a very famous piece."

"What a pity. He backed the wrong person!"

Yuan Yi walked in front, with Yuan Dasheng following closely behind.

As they were about to step out of the alley, it turned its head for one last look at the mechanical stage.

The stage was slowly descending, and the puppet portraying old General Qin Lie remained half-kneeling.

Yuan Dasheng looked at Yuan Yi's back and suddenly let out a few soft grunts.

Yuan Yi turned around in puzzlement, glancing at Yuan Dasheng, unable to comprehend what it wanted to say. He simply waved his hand. "Let's go. Time to go home, fill our bellies, and get some early sleep!"

Relying on each other for survival. Beast fights. The Monkey Head Gang.

"Look, Dasheng, this is my child! He is my child!"

Yuan Yi was ecstatic. "I have a child! I have descendants in this world!"

"I've named him Yuan Er. Dasheng, my life isn't as long as yours!"

"If one day I'm no longer around, let Yuan Er take Yuan Yi's place and keep you company!"

Yuan Er grew hungry and began to cry.

Yuan Dasheng squeezed juice from a peach the size of a washbasin and fed it to him.

The result left Yuan Er drenched like a drowned rat.

Yuan Er fell ill.

Yuan Dasheng darted like the wind through the nocturnal immortal city, rushed into the medical clinic, grabbed the apothecary by the neck, and dragged him along at a full sprint, leaping across rooftops. The apothecary's shrieks shattered the quiet of the moonlit night.

Yuan Er learned to climb. He grabbed hold of Yuan Dasheng's thick monkey fur, challenging heights, and every time he fell, Yuan Dasheng's palm would precisely catch him.

Yuan Er grew able to walk and run.

"Uncle Monkey, they're bullying me!"

Yuan Er brought Yuan Dasheng along to settle scores, scaring the other children so badly they peed themselves and wept in breakdown.

Yuan Er grew fond of valor and fighting, harboring a curious question: "Uncle Monkey, who is stronger, you or my dad? Have you two ever fought?"

"I ask Dad, but he never answers me!"

Yuan Er ran up to Yuan Dasheng, his face filled with worship and excitement. "Uncle Monkey, you're so strong, so majestic! When can I be like you?"

"Dad, I heard you're looking for a demonic cultivation technique for Uncle Monkey? Don't do that!"

Yuan Er burst into the study, shouting aloud.

Yuan Yi's face turned ashen as he roared angrily, "Stop talking nonsense! Whose wild words have you been listening to again?"

"Dad, Uncle Monkey's strength is already beyond control! Those monkeys and grandchildren of his—calling them spirit beasts is polite; more accurately, they are the masters! Those cultivators are merely slaves responsible for feeding them!"

"Things have already reached this point. If you let Uncle Monkey's strength leap forward again, the situation will only become worse."

"When that time comes, whose gang will the Monkey Head Gang actually be?"

Yuan Er pleaded bitterly without pause.

Separated by several rooms and possessing demonic arts, Yuan Dasheng absorbed every single word of this conversation.

Its brows drooped down. Instead of lying down, it slumped flat onto the floor, lowered its head, and emitted a whimper.

When its monkey descendants were killed, Yuan Dasheng reached out a finger and gently tapped Yuan Er's chest.

When an assassination attempt on Yuan Er failed, Yuan Dasheng damaged its own soul to guard by his side.

During the explosion of the Fiery Persimmon Festival, Yuan Dasheng shielded Yuan Er within its embrace.

On his deathbed, before drawing its final breath, Yuan Dasheng extended a finger once more. In a daze, it seemed to hear the strains of that tune, *Qin Lie Charges the Array*.

Yuan Er died.

After a brief period of chaos, the Monkey Head Gang saw an elder rapidly rise to power and seize control, stabilizing the turbulent situation.

Yuan Dasheng had also died—this was Ning Zhuo's deepest realization.

He retrieved the Tree-Martial Fighting Ape Dasheng and repaired the entire mechanism, but could find no trace of sentience, as though it had never existed at all.

"Old Sun's secret mark hasn't changed!"

Ning Zhuo clenched his fists tight. Whenever he felt the urge to personally descend into the fray and investigate Sun Lingtong's actual condition, the Buddha Heart Demon Seal within his divine sea would vibrate incessantly, radiating a brilliant golden light.

The Buddha saves himself; the precious seal issues a warning.

It warned Ning Zhuo that once he stepped into the arena, he would fall straight into someone else's trap.

...

Qi Bai's face was ashen.

He stared at Sun Lingtong, finding it hard to believe that anyone could withstand his soul torture.

Both of Sun Lingtong's hands and feet had been pinned with coffin nails.

His entire body was nailed to an upright pillar.

His brows were deeply furrowed, his eyes rolled back, and his body trembled intermittently due to the torment of a certain spell.

Thus far into the execution, Qi Bai had gained nothing.

To maintain the investigating judge's spell, he was expending increasingly vast amounts of soul power, magic power, and more.

On any ordinary day, he might have already stopped torturing Sun Lingtong!

After all, torturing Sun Lingtong to interrogate the Old Man with Hanging Temples was merely done for the sake of recruiting Han Ming.

It was entirely a losing proposition.

However, within the Tiger Battle Qi Luck Arena, Qi Bai's competitive spirit had been ignited, and his desire to win burned with particular intensity.

"Perhaps his breakdown is just the next moment away!"

Clinging to this expectation, Qi Bai snarled with a ferocious expression: "Very well, I like a stubborn bone like you!"

"Next, you shall endure ten times the agony you just felt!"

"Hehehe..."

"Death will feel like a blessing to you. Unfortunately, you've provoked me!"

Qi Bai channeled his spell, striking Sun Lingtong directly.

Sun Lingtong felt as though he had been crushed beneath mountain ranges, the intensity of the pain tricking his senses.

It felt as though his body and mind were being ground to dust by peaks!

Boundless pain seeped into every inch of his flesh, yet he was denied the mercy of losing consciousness.

He was like a solitary flatboat in a violent storm, plunging downward into an endless oceanic whirlpool.

Past memories flickered like a ray of light—weak yet stubborn—persisting and glowing amidst the boundless darkness.

All of them were about Ning Zhuo.

"Others can control the black market, why can't we?"

"Interesting. Let's make it so that we brothers share one heart and take charge of the black market!"

"Little Zhuo, don't reveal your true face. Use the Dark Iron Han Armor for disguise! I'm already well known to others anyway, so it doesn't matter!"

Ning Zhuo laughed as he changed his form of address: "From now on, I'll just call you Boss Sun directly!"

"Boss, the goods don't match!"

"Boss Sun, I'm right behind you!"

"Boss, charge!"

"Boss Sun, rest assured, I'll stick with you all the way!"

Excruciating pain, vast and abyssal, submerged Sun Lingtong.

He forced his eyes open; his once-lively gaze was now filled with blood.

Sun Lingtong smiled a tragic smile, knowing the Emptiness Seal had limited effect and that he could no longer hold out.

He resolutely unleashed his final trump card.

Qi Bai keenly detected the anomaly and turned pale with fright: "What? You're actually destroying your own soul?"

Sun Lingtong triggered the Emptiness Seal, attacking his own soul to resist Qi Bai's soul-search.

Qi Bai widened his eyes in profound shock and suspicion: "Just what relation is that Old Man with Hanging Temples to you? You'd rather have your soul scatter into nothingness just to protect him?"

"Are you even a member of the Emptiness Sect? Are you even a demonic cultivator?"

"Could it be that he is your fellow disciple? The Holy Son of your Emptiness Sect?"

"Hehehe!"

Sun Lingtong pulled back his lips, mustering a final, agonizing laugh. "He's not a fellow disciple. He is my brother!"

"Brother?" Qi Bai grew even more perplexed. "Aren't brothers meant to be sold out? You're throwing your life away just for a bit of information? What on earth are you after?"

Sun Lingtong lowered his eyelids. He was too weak; his voice was barely audible: "I... I only want to prove that he didn't... didn't follow the wrong person!"

Qi Bai inclined his head to listen, only to hear words of this sort.

"Utterly absurd!"

Qi Bai was enraged to the extreme!

Never in his life had he felt such profound anger.

He felt deeply violated.

He completely lost his patience.

At that moment, he forgot about subduing Han Ming, and forgot about the Old Man with Hanging Temples.

He pressed his fingers together like a sword and thrust them fiercely toward the center of Sun Lingtong's brow.

With a single thrust like this, he would undoubtedly pierce Sun Lingtong's forehead and deal a true death.

Boom...

An explosion suddenly erupted.

Qi Bai sneered, completely ignoring it in his determination to kill Sun Lingtong.

Yet the very next instant, grand formation runes materialized, firmly protecting Sun Lingtong and blocking the fatal blow.

The violent shockwave of the explosion surged outward, carrying a towering wave of scorching heat.

The blast blew Qi Bai flying before completely swallowing him up.

As for Sun Lingtong, protected by the formation runes, he was teleported out of the building.

The next moment, he landed beside an old man.

The old man was aged and weathered, with dark purple eye bags and wrinkles deep enough to trap mosquitoes.

His hair was disheveled and pitch black, cascading from the crown of his head all the way to his shoulders and hanging straight down to his feet, resembling a wide black cloak.

Leaning on a cane, his waist and back were hunched severely, giving his entire posture the shape of a lobster.

He was Sun Lingtong's brother.

End of Chapter