Chapter Thirty: Taking Action

The vessel was entirely crimson, its red as vivid as blood. When the "Cloud-Striding Boat" hovered in midair, it was as if a great scarlet cloud had fallen, casting a ruddy glow over the mountain’s peak.

"This boy certainly loves to show off! If the true Master Yangshan and Wang Duanbao were here, Wang Duanbao would be so shaken by the spectacle that he’d lose sleep for days afterward!"

Tu Shan Ge silently mocked him, thinking,
"To dare command a talisman vessel at merely the Embryonic Breath stage—just how much vital energy do you have to squander? Do you not intend to reach the Qi Refinement stage, or are you already confident in mastering it?"

Just then, someone appeared to greet them.
The boy ceased his display, lowered the Cloud-Striding Boat, and landed.
He was accompanied not only by Deng Zhongzhi but also by twenty armored, fierce guards serving as attendants—a grand entourage.

"Haha! Seventh Uncle, it’s been so long!"
The boy, previously disdainful, now broke into a broad smile upon seeing Tu Shan Ge disguised as Master Yangshan, exclaiming,
"I’ve missed you terribly these months I’ve been confined! See, the moment Father let me out, I came straight to find you and Duanbao! Am I not a dutiful nephew?"

Hearing this, even in such a setting, Tu Shan Ge could barely keep from laughing.
This boy, named Tong Yi, was the second son of Tong Gaolu, the Grand General and pillar of Rong State, and the most promising scion of the Tong family.
Not only had he been skilled in archery and horsemanship from childhood, but at a young age, he had achieved the sensation of Embryonic Breath, becoming a martial grandmaster coveted by countless warriors.

Because of this, the Tong family doted on him extravagantly. It was rumored that Tong Gaolu intended to have him apprentice at the Five Radiant Sect, willing to exhaust the family fortune for the chance.

Yet, this indulgence bred in Tong Yi a fearless temperament.
Despite his youth, he was utterly debauched and lecherous, showing no restraint between men and women, keeping a retinue of beautiful youths and maidens.
Tong Yi especially favored married women, delighting in flaunting his affairs before their husbands, savoring the humiliation and anguish on their faces—a pleasure that left him ecstatic.

Years ago, when Tong Yi visited Yangshan with his father, he was immediately smitten with Zhou Chuyu, his face alight with lust.
Master Yangshan quickly grasped his intent and, that very night, sent her—dressed in finery—to Tong Yi’s chamber.
Thereafter, Tong Yi became enamored of Yangshan, wishing he could remain there every day.

"Yangshan old dog, you may have taken my estate, but living so miserably, I wonder what you’ve really gained?"

Tu Shan Ge nearly burst into laughter, though his face remained composed as he asked,
"May I ask, dear nephew, why my elder brother was so harsh as to confine you?"

"It’s nothing much. The imperial censor Sun recently married a lovely wife, so I went to his house for a bit of fun. But Sun couldn’t handle it—he spat blood and died when he saw me at work. What a pity."

Tong Yi shook his head in regret.

---

"To think Sun was a scholar, yet he had no tolerance at all. Wives can be replaced—such pettiness! His death is of no consequence, but dragging me into confinement—that’s unforgivable."

Tu Shan Ge, deeply shrewd, betrayed no emotion.
Beside him, Tu Shan Zhuang, disguised as Wang Duanbao, was stunned, mouth agape and unable to close.

Tong Yi then led Deng Zhongzhi in greeting Tu Shan Ge, and shortly after, Tu Shan Ge guided them toward the main hall for guests.

Taking advantage of Tu Shan Ge’s conversation with Deng Zhongzhi, Tong Yi paused deliberately, waiting for Tu Shan Zhuang to catch up.

"Duanbao, are you happy to see me?"

Tong Yi grinned.

"…"

Tu Shan Zhuang, in Wang Duanbao’s guise, looked bewildered.

"I came this time with a request for you."

"…go ahead."

"Brother, lend me Xiaoyu for a while. Once I’ve had my fun, I’ll return her. To be honest, during my confinement these past months, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. The noble ladies in the capital just don’t compare—please, consider this a favor to your little brother!"

Tong Yi beamed.

"…"

Tu Shan Zhuang felt his face stiffen, unsure what expression to wear or how to respond.

His silence was taken as refusal. Tong Yi grew angry and shoved him.

"What’s the point of your reluctance? I’ll just appeal to Uncle and leave you frustrated!"

Walking ahead, Tu Shan Ge nearly stumbled, his pace faltering.

Once inside the main hall, before tea could be served, Tu Shan Ge was sweating profusely from Tong Yi’s barrage of questions.

"Uncle, where are your usual concubines? I don’t see any of them!"

"I—I… I’ve been cultivating diligently these days. They were a distraction, so I sent them all down the mountain."

Tu Shan Ge feigned composure.

"Really?"

Tong Yi eyed him suspiciously.

He frowned for a moment, then glanced around, saying, "Your hall doesn’t look too tidy either. Seems it hasn’t been swept in some time. Why is that?"

"This…"

---

Tu Shan Ge inwardly lamented.

Since Master Yangshan’s death, these buildings had been neglected; only the hidden cave in the mountain’s depths was still used by Chen Heng.

Driven by vengeance, after forging a pact with Chen Heng, Tu Shan Ge had briefly cleaned the halls and stayed here for a few days.
But after three days, the novelty wore off and he moved back to his own abode.
After all, the outside world was frozen, nothing like the divine realm’s eternal spring.

"I’ve been cultivating in the cave, rarely coming out… rarely…"

Tu Shan Ge stammered.

Meanwhile, Deng Zhongzhi quietly placed his hand on his sword’s hilt, eyes flickering.

Yet Tong Yi remained oblivious, feeling disappointed, and asked,
"What about Xiaoyu? Doesn’t Uncle know she’s my favorite? Why haven’t you let her see me?"

"…Xiaoyu." Tu Shan Ge was truly at a loss.

Among the clan of white foxes, only he and Tu Shan Zhuang could use illusion magic; the others, like Tu Shan Ningning, were too clumsy—not only unable to transform, but still struggling to refine the bone in their mouths, capable only of pitiful whimpers.

Now, where was he to find Xiaoyu for Tong Yi?

"Xiaoyu… Xiaoyu…"

While Tu Shan Ge was sweating in anxiety, a soft laugh suddenly came from around the corner, and a figure entered.

Tong Yi looked over and saw a young Daoist, smiling gently as he approached.

His bearing was radiant, lofty as rising clouds, luminous but not dazzling.
Even the most accomplished court artists could not capture a hint of his ethereal grace…

"What a beautiful man!"

Tong Yi’s eyes lit up, at once forgetting Xiaoyu entirely. He hurried forward, elated.

"May I ask—"

"Greetings, young master," Chen Heng replied without further words.

With a slight bow, a bolt of lightning shot from his sleeve!

"Ah!"

Tong Yi cried out, hastily summoning a talisman to shield himself, but his arm was severed by the lightning, sending him reeling in agony.