Stop it, Taoist, Your Fight almost Ruins the DAO!

Dian Xiao's exuberant winning technique, derived from the top-tier internet rivalry methods of his previous life, was designed specifically for intense online altercations.

In a unique lesson on internet literature, Yi Chen left Long Que astonished; some things were not impossible, but simply a matter of an unopened mindset.

For example, those living off another's support shouldn't talk about independence. By truly understanding the nature of being kept, one could at least become a deputy director, and perhaps even a president...

"Brother Dao... such talent," the man with the jujube-red face struggled to say after downing three cups of wine.

After taking two breaths to compose himself, Long Que continued to pour wine and said, "I never expected the Northern Region to have such a remarkable person as Brother Dao. May I have the honor of knowing your name?"

"Just call me Yi Chen, Brother Long," Yi Chen replied with an easy smile, reaching for another beef ball.

Amid the rising steam of the simmering hot pot, the two started a conversation that ranged far and wide. Long Que, well-versed and knowledgeable, effortlessly shared many secrets and anecdotes, while Yi Chen's imaginative ideas often left one in the dark, but upon reflection, appeared to make a lot of sense.

It was a tough time for the three unfortunate souls who were incessantly prodded by chopsticks.

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"Brother Dao, if, due to a natural disaster, Great Qin suffered drought and the grain supply decreased to only sustain ninety percent of the population, to what extent do you think the price of grain would rise?" Long Que asked thoughtfully after a moment of contemplation.

"It would undoubtedly rise until at least ten percent of the population could no longer afford it," Yi Chen replied, a look of astonishment on his face as he said, "If eighty percent of the population could be fed, then that would be considered very fortunate. Brother Long, why do you ask such a question?"

"Yi Chen, when kindred spirits meet, a thousand cups of wine are not enough, but with those of different minds, not even half a word is worth sharing. We hit it off at first sight, so let me speak bluntly," Long Que said.

"Are you aware of one of the five calamities of heaven and earth, the Malevolent Corpse?"

"I have merely overheard that some of the Eastern Continent's experts at divination have joined forces to predict that the Malevolent Corpse is to be born within a hundred or two years," Yi Chen replied.@@novelbin@@

The Malevolent Corpse, born from the dark, resentful qi of the universe, is an undying and inextinguishable fiend of the Human Realm. As long as the negative energy of the world persists, it can be reborn.

However, once it is reborn, it has no connection with its previous self.

Yi Chen was naturally familiar with information on the five calamities from the archives of the free heavens.

Ordinarily, such fiends of the five calamities' caliber only descend once every ten thousand years. They each undergo reincarnation and, once their energy is fully accumulated, they reenter the world. The last Malevolent Corpse had been slain by the collective might of the Eastern Continent's masters. It had been only a few thousand years since then—could it really be about to return so soon?

Every time the Malevolent Corpse appeared, even if it did not move, it would still affect the world, causing barren stretches of land for thousands of miles, with fissures spreading across the earth, each time bringing great catastrophe to the Human Realm.

Now, with the anomaly of the heavens and the chaos of the world, it was uncertain whether the various sects could clean their own doorsteps, let alone join in unity like thousands of years ago to slay the Malevolent Corpse.

And with each additional year the Malevolent Corpse remained in the world, many innocent lives would be lost.

"Brother Long Que, if the Malevolent Corpse isn't due for ten thousand years, why would it appear so prematurely?" Yi Chen couldn't help but ask.

"Perhaps it is due to the anomalies of heaven and earth. Alas, with the present disturbance of heaven and earth, many former patterns can only serve as references," Long Que replied.

"A tumultuous era is approaching. We must prepare early. It is the common people who suffer, whether in times of prosperity or decline," the man with the jujube-red face sighed, and he and Yi Chen drank deeply once more, both falling into a long silence, finding the feast before them somewhat tasteless.

"Brother Yi Chen, look at me, dampening the spirits. I'll punish myself with three cups," Long Que said, attempting to enliven the mood and quickly knocked back three cups.

"Are you developing a taste for the wine, Brother Dao? At this rate, we'll run out," Yi Chen laughed heartily, opening another jug.

"What's the difficulty there? I have plenty of wine in my storage ring," Long Que replied cheerfully.

As the cups and platters exchanged hands, plate after plate of delicacies surged towards their stomachs like a flowing stream.

Soon after, the waiter came over with a pained expression.

The restaurant did not want to offend the two high-level cultivators who clearly had the power of ascended masters, so they were attended to with great care, but now the staff could not avoid interaction.

The inventory of food had been entirely consumed by Yi Chen and his companion.

As a working man, such displeasing duties naturally fell to the waiter to handle with care.

The owner had already secretly slipped out of the back room when Master Feng was beaten; don't ask—he just didn't know. It was all dealt with by the staff below, striking a flexible approach to the situation, and later, the owner would have a passable explanation for Master Feng's family.

"Haha, that is indeed a bit unfortunate."

Just as Long Que was about to say something else, his expression suddenly changed and he spoke quickly,

"Brother Yi Chen, I find myself in a bit of trouble, so please do not come out, and certainly don't make it known that you've seen me."

"I have indeed been a bit careless, staying here too long, and it might even bring unwarranted misfortune to you."

"Seeing the spirit beast you have with you, it appears highly intelligent and has great potential. Here are two bottles of Tiger Essence Pills, concocted from a half-True Monarch Realm tiger demon I slayed. I originally intended to gift them to a friend, but now I give them to you as a token of my apology," he said.

"This should save a considerable amount of time for the growth of your spirit beast."

"Remember, do not mention our acquaintance, for fear of unforeseen disasters," Long Que cautioned.

After hurriedly tossing down the two bottles of pills, Long Que turned into a red streak of light and darted out through the window.

Soon, in the sky approached a black carriage, pulled by four bizarre lion-like creatures with clouds under their feet, quickly arriving above Linggui City.

A black curtain embroidered with nine golden suns concealed the figure within the carriage.

Gazing at the majestic lion-like creatures pulling the carriage, sensing the aura comparable to the ninth level of the True Person Realm emanating from the beasts, Yi Chen marveled at the grandeur of the black carriage's owner, and then looked at his own dear son who still relied on his piggyback rides...

Damn, he had truly become a beast's caretaker.

"The mountains are not necessarily high; it is the hearts of people that reach the highest peak. Long Que's peerless strike is as unique as his name!"

"Long Que·Soaring!"

Long Que stopped in his tracks and swung his blade, instantly manifesting a bizarre phantom bird with the body of a bird and the neck of a deer, its shrill cry exploding through heaven and earth.

With this single strike, Long Que's ribcage suddenly sprouted a pair of red wings. With a single flap, he soared away, escaping into the distance at an even greater speed.

"Que Long, you rat, you really can run!" an angry voice echoed in the skies above Linggui City.

"You're killing me, Nine Days Demon Monarch! With your speed on land, how come your flying is so slow?"

"You rat from the gutter, I'll kill you, you dead sparrow."

"Are you in a hurry?"

The faint voice came in broken spurts and eventually faded away.

Yi Chen: "....."

Feeling a chill, Yi Chen finally understood that the man with the date-red face was actually called Que Long.

Alas, where does the trust between people lie? Fortunately, he was also using a false name... so it was fine.

"Daoist Que Long, it's not that I'm ungenerous, but my cultivation is limited and I can't help you," Yi Chen said as he stood up.

The silver-haired old man and the little white-dressed girl, perhaps famished, clung onto the mindset of dying full rather than hungry, devouring trotters on the table behind Yi Chen.

"Old man, speak," a dark whirlpool emerged from Yi Chen's eyes.

....

....

Feng's residence.

A splash of cold water poured down.

The strongest expert in Linggui City, a cultivator at the seventh level of the True Person Realm, and the Feng Family Head slowly got up from the ground. He immediately felt his scalp turn cold; reaching up, he found himself bald.

A shadow suddenly loomed over him.

"Family Head Feng, the great deed your son did. If it weren't for the Feng family's somewhat decent reputation in Linggui City, you'd be losing more than your hair," he said.

"Don't spoil your children too much. Give back the property deeds of the courtyard and shop to that old man and child outside, and don't pressure them any further. If you do that, this affair can be considered closed."

"You'd better pray they live to be a hundred. If one day I, out of boredom, remember this matter and find you didn't take proper care of them, causing me to lose face, I'm afraid all members of your Feng family would lose their heads."

"Oh right, your eldest son is already crippled. You should have another. They're just outside the door; if you go out now, you might still be able to save his life," Yi Chen thoughtfully advised him on his way out.

The world is like a pyramid that encases people, with some high above and others even higher.

Just like the Feng family's eldest son to the little girl, as was Yi Chen to the Feng family.

It's easy to kill, but cleaning up the aftermath is extremely difficult. Yi Chen took these measures to protect the elderly man and the child. Having formed a bond with them, he had to resolve this karma; otherwise, the two of them would be as good as dead, no different than if he had killed them with his own hands.

As Family Head Feng emerged from the door, clutching his neck, outside he found his eldest son, grievously injured and inhuman, and two guards riddled like sieves, alongside the old man and child trembling like chaff.

"Father! I'm crippled!" he wailed in agony, sobbing and weeping as if about to complain.

"Unfilial son!"

Slap!

After stuffing a healing pill into his only son's mouth, Family Head Feng knocked him out with a chop of his hand.

"Someone, take the young master down for treatment."

"You two, come with me," Family Head Feng said gently to the old man and child.

In an instant, the little girl stopped shaking. She remembered the handsome face of the Daoist and his words before leaving.

"Little girl, don't be afraid, they wouldn't dare to disrespect me!"

So it was all real—not a dream.

A mist of tears appeared in the little girl's eyes.

The matter was settled.

Changing his appearance and shaping his face to resemble Zhang Hu, Yi Chen nonchalantly made his way toward the direction of the Blackwater River.

Who is Yi Chen? Doesn't ring a bell.

The next day, Blackwater Town was already in sight.

The Blackwater River was so named for the black bedrock that underlay its bed, not because the water was black.

And Blackwater Town was a small town beside the Blackwater River.

At this moment, outside Blackwater Town, a group of villagers carried a palanquin without a roof. Inside sat a young woman. Accompanied by the music and noise, they headed toward the Blackwater River.

At the forefront of the procession, an old man with his face painted in seven-colored oils and wound with colorful ribbons danced and led the way, holding a flagpole in his hand.

It bore the words "To the Black Evil Dragon King, May You Live Forever".

A line of clear tears slid down from the eyes of the young woman within.

Suddenly, the figure of a tall Daoist appeared at the front of the procession, blocking their path.