Chapter Sixty-Six: Borrowing the Golden Cudgel

The old man suddenly understood something and spoke to those beside him, “It’s alright, you can all leave now.”

The middle-aged staff member remained uneasy, “Sir, perhaps we should change your room?”

The old man replied slowly, “No need. I’m fine. I may have had a few drinks, and today has been tiring. You all go ahead. I’d like some time alone.”

The plainclothes guards and staff glanced around the room before gradually retreating.

The old man walked slowly to the sofa. On the tea table sat a freshly prepared cup of fine green tea. He picked up the lid, carefully letting the steam drip into the cup without spilling a single drop. Then, gently blowing on the cup, he brushed the floating tea leaves to the rim. He took a slow sip of the hot tea.

“You’re not simple. You managed to buy off everyone around me. They’ve been with me for over twenty years, weathering many storms. Yet today, they betrayed me,” he said quietly.

Master Yuran replied, “Your subordinates were not bought by me.”

The old man did not pursue the topic further, but gazed at Master Yuran, asking, “Why are you here today? What do you want?”

“To save your life,” replied Master Yuran.

The old man frowned. Suddenly, he felt a mild cramp in his stomach, likely from the extra drinks earlier. The alcohol began to cloud his mind, but he’d been drinking specially brewed Maotai—he shouldn’t be affected even after doubling the amount. Perhaps age was catching up to him, he thought, but paid it no mind and continued, “You mean you disguised yourself as a Taoist priest, so my loyal subordinates ignored you, and you’re not here to harm me?”

Master Yuran smiled, “That’s not quite right. In your brief words, there are four errors.”

“What are they?”

“First, I am not a Taoist priest. Second, your subordinates did not overlook me—only you can see me. Third, I am indeed not here to harm you.”

The old man forced a smile, pressing his temples. The intoxication intensified, and he grew hazy. He tried to compose himself, “And what else did I get wrong?”

Master Yuran sighed, “The fourth mistake: your subordinates are not loyal.”

“But when I said they betrayed me, you told me I was wrong.”

“Yes. They are not loyal, but they were not bribed by me.”

“How much would it cost to buy off guards who have followed me for so many years?”

“Everyone in this world has a price. But that price is not always measured in money,” said Master Yuran.

The old man smiled faintly, still wishing to refute this ‘immortal’ before him, but his vision blurred further. He regretted the indulgence earlier. He rubbed his eyes, but the golden spots only multiplied.

In his daze, he heard, “Sir, you should neither sit on this sofa nor drink that cup of tea before you.”

Even as the words faded, the old man saw Master Yuran’s left hand suddenly lift, and at the same time, he heard a sharp, clear sound of glass breaking. Though his eyes were foggy, he followed the direction of Master Yuran’s palm, and what he saw shocked him more than anything in his life.

The room was not brightly lit, but enough to reveal a shining, floating particle suspended in midair.

He stared, and realized it was a pistol bullet, no more than a hand’s breadth from his eyes. The bullet, as if glued in the air, hung motionless.

Then, two more sharp cracks of glass breaking sounded. Before him appeared two more bullets, both suspended a palm’s distance from his head, unmoving in midair. Silencers must have been used, for only the sound of glass shattering could be heard.

Though the curtains were drawn, the old man knew that wouldn’t stop a thermal aiming device. The curtains should have been replaced long ago with heat-resistant fabric. This was clearly a meticulously planned assassination.

Alarmed, the old man tried to stand from the sofa, but dizziness overwhelmed him, and he collapsed to the floor. At last, he realized the significance of the cup of hot tea.

He saw Master Yuran suddenly float upward, waving his left hand toward the window. From outside came the sound of someone falling from a tree. The three bullets dropped to the carpet.

The old man lay on the floor, feeling on the verge of death. This was not his first brush with gunfire; old wounds still ached faintly. Such was politics: to reach this position was to court risk and make enemies. He had long accepted mortality, but never expected it to come so suddenly.

He told himself: who is ever truly prepared for death?

Master Yuran stepped forward, tearing a blank sheet from the desk. He helped the old man upright, pressed the paper against his chest, and recited softly, “Divine Blood Purification Spell! May it be as decreed!”

The old man felt his blood rush, and the white paper at his chest began to darken like ink spreading, mottled with shadows in seconds. His breathing eased, the dizziness faded, and he could sit upright once more.

Outside, urgent knocking sounded, along with calls from the guards, “Chief! Are you alright?”

The old man replied, “I’m fine! You needn’t come in.”

The guards ceased their knocking.

“What happened just now?” the old man asked Master Yuran.

“I’ve purged the poison from your body. Tonight, your life was meant to end, but now you have twenty more years.”

The old man said, “Though I don’t know how you did it, you must have other business besides saving me?”

Master Yuran nodded, “To be frank, I came tonight not only to save your life, but because there is something of far greater importance that requires your full support. Only you can accomplish it.”

As time passed, the Academy of Arts and Tao swiftly entered battle readiness. All items, artifacts, and personnel unrelated to the Defense of Heaven and Earth were evacuated to other areas, transforming the academy into a camp bristling with battle flags.

The day before the Mid-Autumn Festival, Little Prince Taishang pressed his grandfather’s jade tablet into Huasheng’s hand.

“Huasheng, I need to prepare for the battle at Saint Peace. Time is tight; we must act separately. I’ll stay here for final preparations, but this task is yours. As my grandfather said, deliver this to the Victorious Buddha and borrow the Golden Hoop Rod from him.”

Huasheng was puzzled—there were many in the academy with far greater power than him. How could he wield such a legendary weapon?

“The Dao Ancestor gave us this jade tablet as a responsibility. The most crucial step is yours; you must not be absent. To break the Saturn Veil and defeat Mingyou, only you can borrow the Golden Hoop Rod from the Victorious Buddha.”

“How should I proceed?”

“Have you forgotten? You’re the winner of the Celestial Eye Trial! Go to the summit of the Eastern Sea, and with the Buddha’s route token you’ll meet the Victorious Buddha!”

Huasheng unfolded the map, “But the Dao Ancestor’s ‘summit of the Eastern Sea,’ the convergence of dragons—where is that? Mount Laoshan in Shandong is famed as the Daoist summit of the Eastern Sea, but it’s not really the place where dragons gather.”

Little Prince Taishang studied the Eastern Sea map, “I think I know where it is…”

“Tell me.”

Little Prince Taishang pointed to a city on the map, “We’ve been here before!”

Huasheng followed his finger.

“Shanghai? Impossible!”

“The Dao Ancestor said ‘summit of the Eastern Sea,’ but where is anything tall in the Eastern Sea? So we must look for a place reachable by the waters of the Eastern Sea. What else is the Golden Hoop Rod called?”

“The Divine Treasure of Calming the Sea. Isn’t the Calming Sea the Eastern Sea itself? You say it’s Shanghai? That can’t be! When the Golden Hoop Rod was around, Shanghai was still called Huating County!”

“Times have changed. Even the appearance of celestial artifacts changes, and their hiding places move!” said Little Prince Taishang. “Besides, when we were in Shanghai, remember I mentioned a massive feng shui array, a gathering of dragons?”

“I remember! It was at Lujiazui!”

Huasheng suddenly understood—there was only one place in Shanghai that could truly be called the ‘summit of the Eastern Sea.’

He gripped Little Prince Taishang’s hand tightly.

“If you don’t retrieve the Golden Hoop Rod, don’t come see me!” Little Prince Taishang laughed.

Huasheng felt there was no time to lose and mounted the Flying Cloud at once.

Night deepened.

After a final training session for the ‘HOPE’ group, Master Yuran instructed everyone to rest early. The formation training for the earthly ‘BRAVE’ and ‘HOPE’ teams was personally taught by Master Jueguang, Master Yuran, and thirty other immortals. The teamwork between the two groups was unexpectedly high; within days, under the guardianship of academy protectors, both the ‘Six Ding Six Jia Formation’ and the ‘Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Formation’ were ready for combat.

Master Yuran rested beside Drunken Heart Lake, where he saw Little Prince Taishang lying on the stone railing, gazing at the stars.

Little Prince Taishang noticed Master Yuran and asked, “Have the formations improved in these few days?”

“From utter chaos on the first day to unified effort now, it’s progress,” said Master Yuran. “Tomorrow night will be a fierce battle. You should get some rest, Little Prince Taishang.”

Little Prince Taishang, chewing a twig and resting his hands behind his head, looked up at the moon, “How beautiful the moon is. Over the millennia, it has soothed countless weary hearts. Yet now we must wage a desperate battle against it.”

Master Yuran said, “No matter what happens tomorrow night, it is the fate that the mortal world must bear. Most immortals, humans, and spirits of Saint Peace do not wish to see the mortal world reduced to scorched earth.”

Little Prince Taishang said, “I’ve wondered—Mingyou goes to such lengths, yet Heaven turns a blind eye. Will our intervention bring disaster to Saint Peace instead?”

Master Yuran replied, “Because we cannot stand by. Perhaps immortal or spirit, after living with humans so long, when faced with choices, it’s hard to remain detached. Even the Star Lord of Dao Spirits is not exempt. Saint Peace is bound by millennium-old rules, lacking a reason to change. The letter you brought from the Supreme Elder gave the Star Lord a reason. Here in Saint Peace, we begin to act like humans, willing to sacrifice ourselves out of compassion for others.”

“I believe it’s the right thing to do,” said Little Prince Taishang.

“What’s heartening is that the Academy of Arts and Tao, regardless of gender, all have volunteered to fight—no absence, no avoidance. Isn’t this compassion? Perhaps this is the fruit of the immortals’ teachings, and what the academy can be proud of. All we can do is this. Tomorrow night, the sky lanterns will light up the night, prayers for peace in the mortal world and a resolve to defend home. We’ll see how much strength mortal determination brings to the academy.”

“I believe effort is never wasted. At the very least, this intervention will bring new possibilities to the human world.”

Master Yuran nodded, “Those two mortal groups you brought, named ‘HOHO’ and ‘BRA,’ their ability in the Dao is remarkable. Mortal children truly excel at learning.”

“Master, they’re not ‘HOHO’ and ‘BRA,’ they’re ‘HOPE’ and ‘BRAVE.’”