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

"Overbearing and unrestrained, such an arrogant attitude can hardly be my husband’s doing, whose hand penned these words?" The consort of King Jing examined the writing for a while, her gaze intense as she questioned her own husband.

"My lady, if you have already guessed, why bother asking knowingly?"

The couple exchanged a glance, and amidst a shallow smile, the consort of King Jing floated away, leaving only a trace of fragrance in her wake.

The candlelight flickered inside the room, illuminating King Jing’s intermittently obscured face.

At that moment, a series of knocks, one long and two short, sounded, and the door opened.

A person in black, wearing a hood, stealthily walked in. As soon as he entered, he took off his hood, revealing a head of white hair.

"I pay my respects to King Jing."

"Senior Shen Ji Bai Xiao has arrived. This success was smooth sailing, thanks largely to Senior’s guidance. You have worked hard, Senior."

King Jing poured a cup of fragrant tea, his face wreathed in a smile as he came forward with the tea bowl in his hands.

"This old man’s meager efforts hardly warrant such an honor from Your Highness."

"Tonight, risking a midnight visit, I truly do not understand... Xue Lingzi has acquired the Corpse God, a powerful entity from the ancient demon imperial Moroke clan, and he himself is but a step away from Dao Mastery. If I am not mistaken, he aims to fully ascend during the magical duel."

"Should the worst come to pass, Your Highness’s years of planning may be thwarted, and the tide will turn in favor of the Martial King. Why then do you insist on promoting Xue Lingzi’s assured victory rather than hedging your bets on both sides?"

"In this way, even if the Hidden Dragon Taoist suffers a great defeat, we wouldn’t lose too terribly."

Upon hearing this, King Jing smiled slightly, a look of mastery spreading across his face.

"Sir, as a ruler, one must be decisive and consistent."

"If I achieve a great success this time, there will be no one left to threaten my position. If I suffer a great defeat, it simply means that the momentum has shifted, and I can lie low for another hundred or so years. With my foundation, even if I lose this time, I can still remain in the game. If the Martial King loses, then he’s left with nothing."

"To see small profits and forget what’s at stake, to pursue great endeavors yet fear for one’s life, that isn’t the way of a true ruler."

King Jing, seated on the Taishi Chair, leaned forward slightly, his eyes brimming with self-assurance and steadiness.

Seeing King Jing in such a state, Shen Ji Bai Xiao felt relieved. He clasped his hands together and said:

"Since Your Highness has full confidence, this old man is willing to serve like a dog or horse, and I will add fuel to the fire tomorrow."

"I depend entirely on you, Sir."

For the moment, the two of them seemed to be in perfect accord, sharing a smile. After Shen Ji Bai Xiao left, the room fell into silence, and the brilliance in King Jing’s eyes gradually dimmed.

"Lord Tan Lang, do not disappoint me."

He sighed, opened the window, and took a deep breath of fresh air before heading towards the consort’s chamber.

In private, he was far from the confident persona he projected; he was merely keeping up appearances.

A retreat meant a defeat.

Having been King Jing for hundreds of years, he knew his father, the Millennium Emperor, wouldn’t tolerate indecision. Even if Lord Tan Lang won the next day, he would have lost in his father’s eyes.

Such a king could never rule over Great Qin.

And he was not such a king.

Parting the bead curtains, there, in front of the dressing table, ’little koala,’ already draped in light silk, was biting on a rouge paper, her makeup complete.

After many years together, how could she not be aware of the pressure her husband faced?

Little koala smiled sweetly, just like in the days of yore.

That year, after she finished playing on the swing, she’d rise and carelessly fix her slender hands, retreating bashfully. Leaning on the door, she’d turn her head for one last look, pretending to smell the green plums.

"My lady, you..."

"Hiss~" King Jing inhaled sharply, his eyes fixed on the alluring figure.

A while later.

The moonlight retreated behind clouds, and the silhouettes of the two gradually overlapped, mingling together. Tonight, the wind seemed especially boisterous, stirring the scent of green plums in the air, while golden hairpins shifted beneath the socks, and a light sweat penetrated the thin silk.

Outside, the shadows of the bamboo, stirred by the fierce wind, swayed increasingly intensely.

...

….

"The wind is really fucking strong today! Daoist Lin Luo, drink up!"

"The Daoist is right, it truly is fucking strong!" Lin Luo, clad in her familiar purple ankle socks, sat with legs together and slightly to the side. She was enjoying a hearty drink with Yi Chen.

Having received an invitation from Lin Luo to come for drinks, Yi Chen had accepted.

For some reason, Lin Luo didn’t mind Yi Chen’s frequent cursing and found it rather novel instead. She covered her mouth with her wide sleeve and after another drink, she laughed and responded:

"The decisive battle is approaching the day after tomorrow, how confident are you, Daoist?"

Yi Chen looked up to find a pair of bright eyes gazing into his.

"Is there any need to say? With Xue Lingzi vying against me, does he have the strength? Ten out of ten!" Yi Chen laughed as he spread his hands wide, then suddenly clenched his fists.

A booming sound followed, powerful and full of force.

He was being truthful; he had taken an interest in the ancient demon corpse puppet controlled by Xue Lingzi. Clearly, it was destined for him. How could Yi Chengzi, known as Pure Yang, be human if he didn’t strive for those Deep Red Points?

"Really?"

"Of course, a hundred out of a hundred." Continue your adventure at Freewebnovel

"Get lost!" Lin Luo burst into laughter at his words. Someone had definitely been led astray by a certain Daoist, losing some stiffness and gaining lifelike vibrancy.

"Lin Daoist, how much did you bet?"

"If you, Daoist, lose the day after tomorrow, I might have to move to live at the Ministry of Justice."

"Awesome." Yi Chen’s eyebrows raised; this time, he stopped joking and said seriously, "But do not worry, Daoist Lin Luo, I believe that in two days, you’ll have two mansions."

Their eyes met, and they continued drinking until dawn before calling it a night.

Damn it, Yi Chen felt that he was the only one in his circle carrying any weight, the only Pure Yang advancing diligently while the moral standards of the cultivation world were being eroded by everyone else.