Daoist Competition
Chapter 145 - 39 Metallic Cloud Sand Steward Zhengqing_2

Chapter 145: Chapter 39 Metallic Cloud Sand Steward Zhengqing_2

Zhang Yan raised an eyebrow. Just a golden flood dragon that has yet to undergo transformation possesses such shocking power—what kind of might would a true dragon wield? Perhaps overturning rivers and seas would be a trivial feat.

Thinking of this, his heart stirred. Su YiAng had once mentioned that beneath the Jiuquxi Palace lies a Dragon Mansion, which holds the remnants of a ten-thousand-year-old dragon. Qu Chang, the golden flood dragon, and the gray dragon—could there be some connection among the three?

Unfortunately, Qu Chang was killed by him, its Primordial Spirit scattered. Even if he had managed to capture it alive, this demon was muddle-headed, and he himself did not know the Soul Searching Technique—there would likely be no way to extract any useful information. Pondering the matter, he retrieved a piece of beautiful jade from his sleeve, and said, "Su YiAng, do you know what cultivation technique your elder brother practices?"

Su YiAng, confined within the beautiful jade, was barely holding his Divine Soul together, but his spirit had waned greatly and appeared feeble. If he couldn’t find a physical body soon, in two or three years, he would likely dissipate entirely. Thus, he usually refrained from moving or speaking, expending all his energy merely to sustain that sliver of unbroken Primordial Spirit.

Now, upon hearing Zhang Yan’s inquiry, he dared not remain silent. With a weak voice, he replied, "Honored Senior Brother, my elder brother’s cultivation technique is extremely secretive—I do not know it. I only know that whenever he practices, he retreats to a cellar. The servants have mentioned that, on occasion, strange roars and howls can be heard emanating from there."

Hm?

Upon hearing this, Zhang Yan felt a faint thread of understanding, inwardly startled. This Su Yihong... could he be cultivating demonic arts with a human body?

He had read the Water Country’s "Primordial Life Golden Fruit Book" and naturally understood its principles.

Demon Cultivators, upon reaching the third realm of Ming Qi, can extract a bone from the corpse of an Ancient Great Demon, implant it in their crown, and sense the trace of Great Demon blood within their veins to nourish and refine it. Once the bone is revitalized, they replace their old bones gradually, transforming one realm at a time, until eventually taking on the form of an Ancient Great Demon.

This method is indeed characteristic of demon cultivation—wild and primitive in essence. Moreover, it requires the bloodline of an Ancient Great Demon to be passed down, making it unattainable for humans or ordinary members of the Demon Race, so even Prince Zhen would not fear Zhang Yan learning it.

Yet Zhang Yan faintly sensed that Su Yihong might have found a solution. If that were truly the case, and this person were to obtain the dragon relics and achieve great success, he would possess the invincible body of an Ancient Heavenly Demon—imperishable and immortal. Who under heaven could possibly stop him?

As he pondered, a splash of water suddenly erupted, soaking a large patch of soil. It seemed that the golden flood dragon found its confinement too small and was rolling about in irritation.

Zhang Yan’s gaze shifted toward the lake. The appearance of the golden flood dragon was certainly no coincidence—it might hold the key. He took two steps to the lakeside, looked down, and said, "I ask you: are you willing to acknowledge me as your master?"

As he spoke, his tone carried a natural air of authority, lofty and imposing.

However, the golden flood dragon appeared unimpressed, lying still in the water, staring back at him without moving.

The two locked gazes for a long while. Although the flood dragon’s glare was ferocious, there was a faint, unconcealable hint of fear in its eyes that Zhang Yan keenly caught—a fear borne of being trapped here, its life and death hanging entirely on someone else’s whim, leaving it no choice but to be afraid.

Zhang Yan chuckled. "Interesting. I know you were not captured by me but rather have suffered calamity and are now trapped here. Thus, you bear resentment in your heart. At this moment, since you are unwilling, I will not force you."

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a bright and pristine porcelain vial. Opening its stopper, he tilted his hand and flicked a pill into the water. "You failed in your transformation, so this Transformation Elixir holds little use for you, but it can help you shed your horizontal bone and gain the ability to speak. Three days hence, I will come and ask you again."

The golden flood dragon gazed at the pill floating and sinking in the water for a moment before hesitantly swallowing it. Then it dove back into the depths, refining the medicinal power.

Zhang Yan stood there for a while. Just as he was about to return to his cave mansion, he heard a piercing cry from outside the island—it seemed someone had arrived.

A misty cloud formed beneath his feet, lifting him slowly into the sky. Across the horizon, he spotted a Cloud Perching Flying Boat, upon which stood a cultivator clad in Daoist robes, whose cultivation was not far from his own. Zhang Yan retrieved a token and opened the prohibition, asking sternly, "Fellow Daoist, what brings you here?"

The man’s face was expressionless, shrouded in an almost tangible layer of coldness. Reaching into his sleeve, he retrieved a token and said icily, "My name is Zhuang Ze, a steward from the Zhengqing Institute. By order of Senior Brother Zhuang Bufan, I am here to enforce sect rules. Starting today, disciples of all ranks, from him onward, are forbidden from keeping demon concubines. Entry and exit within the sect shall now require token jade plates. All islands and peaks will undergo monthly inspections. Any violations will be dealt with according to sect regulations."

Zhuang Bufan?

Zhang Yan narrowed his eyes. He had a deep impression of this man.

On that day, he had intended to continue toward Zhao You Heavenly Pond to search for Cloud Sand, but this person, without uttering a word, had shaken his sleeves and forcibly brought him and a group of disciples back, leaving no room for refusal.

Later, after inquiring with Xie Zongyuan, he learned that this was one of the Mingcang Sect’s Twelve Divine Abilities, named the "Great Luo Heavenly Sleeve," specific to seizing Dharma Treasures. Legend has it that when perfected, it can capture rivers, lakes, mountains, and seas. The founding ancestor master of Mingcang Sect had once used it to collect nine famed mountains in a single move and relocated them to the sect.

A hundred and sixty years ago, Zhuang Bufan was already a True Disciple and later apprenticed under True Master Zhu, attaining unfathomable cultivation.

The sect has ten principal disciples, four of whom are from the same master-disciple lineage he belongs to.

Sixteen years ago, Zhuang Bufan was dispatched to suppress a small demon cave. Recently, he returned to the mountain gate and assumed the vice-director position at Zhengqing Institute.

Zhengqing Institute governs criminal laws and orders within the sect. The restriction on keeping demon concubines was undoubtedly a move by Zhuang Bufan to assert his authority in his new role, using the matter as a pretext to make his mark.

Zhang Yan, hearing this, shot out a glint of sharp light from his eyes and let out a cold chuckle. "What nerve, pretending to be a Zhengqing Institute steward! I won’t let you leave so easily."

With a sweep of his robe sleeve, a streak of blue sword light shot straight toward the man.

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