Chapter 49: Spring Thunder from the Heavens

Late Hour of the Pig.

Ding Suian, dressed in black night-clothes, checked his fire starters one last time. Everything was in order, and he flipped out of the back window of the Hehuan Cage.

His nimble figure blended into the night.

A hundred feet away.

Inside a dark attic in the backyard of the Pinshu Pavilion, Ruan Guofan stood by the window alongside a Daoist with a goatee.

Moonlight spilled down, and the shadows of the trees swayed.

Ruan Guofan stared intently at a spot in the distance, his brows furrowed. “What is that kid trying to do? Shenxu, follow him and keep an eye on him.”

The Daoist called Shenxu stroked his beard and chuckled. “Why follow him? Let him toss and turn; perhaps he can stir up some commotion.”

Ruan Guofan’s expression darkened, his tone shifting from a request to a stern interrogation. “Are you going or not?”

“I’m going, I’m going. This old Daoist will go.”

“Don’t let him run into danger. If all else fails, knock him out and bring him back.”

“Mm.”

Shenxu responded, and like a great roc spreading its wings, he leapt down from the two-zhang-high attic.

With a few light taps of his toes, he reached the base of the perimeter wall. Sinking his body slightly, he leaped from a standstill and easily cleared the high wall.

The moment he landed, his lightning-sharp gaze swept the dark alley, immediately locking onto Ding Suian’s figure as he hurried along the wall.

Just as he planned to follow, a warning sign suddenly flared in his heart.

The terrifying sensation of his life force being firmly seized caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end instantly.

His neck, like a rusted door hinge, turned laboriously, inch by inch toward his back. Pressed tightly against his back was a person, completely devoid of breath, with less than half a foot between them.

Shenxu was originally known for his movement techniques, but at this moment, he couldn’t even muster the thought of escaping. He only said hoarsely, “Great Master, spare this old Daoist’s life.”

Tens of breaths later.

“Why are you back? Didn’t I tell you to follow him!”

Seeing Shenxu return so quickly, Ruan Guofan hurried forward a few steps but stopped abruptly, exclaiming in shock, “Where is your beard!”

Immortal Master Shenxu’s most prized goatee was completely gone, his bare chin covered in tiny bloodstains. It looked as if it had been ripped out by force.

The Hour of the Rat.

South of Lanyang Prefecture.

Atop a small hill, Ding Suian sat behind a thicket, gazing toward the Tiandao Palace in the distance.

On the night of the seventeenth day of the first lunar month, the moon was still round, its clear silver light pouring over the earth.

Several hundred paces away, ninety percent of the sprawling Tiandao Palace was submerged in the night, with only a row of refined quarters in the northeast corner showing a few points of dim yellow candlelight.

It matched the observations from the fifth day. Due to the renovations of the Tiandao Palace, the Lanyang Cultivators of the State Religion and the protectors were all concentrated in the refined quarters for lodging.

The moonlight dimmed slightly, and Ding Suian looked up at the sky.

Clouds drifting from the south slowly covered the moon, and the night wind sweeping across the Zhebei River suddenly carried a hint of warm moisture.

More than ten days ago, Supervisor Yuan of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau had deduced the celestial patterns, predicting that tonight would bring the thunder of the Awakening of Insects and a gentle spring rain.

Ding Suian had been waiting.

At the first quarter of the Hour of the Rat, the south wind grew stronger.

The wind passed through the treetops, whipping up a “woo-woo” whistling sound.

Layers of thick clouds followed, and the once-bright moonlit ground suddenly darkened.

“Rumble, rumble—”

After a few more moments, the faint sound of rolling thunder came from the eastern horizon.

It was as if gods were hidden above the ink-black clouds, wanting to burst through.

“Teacher is truly a god!”

Ding Suian couldn’t help but sigh softly in admiration. He then pulled two short barrels made of linden wood out from the waterproof oilcloth, tucking one under each arm, and crouched low as he walked toward the refined quarters of the Tiandao Palace.

The linden wood barrels didn’t look large, but each weighed over a hundred catties.

The two barrels totaled over two hundred catties; even for a Martial Artist at the Minor Achievement of the Chenggang Realm like Ding Suian, it was somewhat taxing.

Fortunately, the distance wasn’t too far.

Three hundred paces or so; the walk would be finished in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

The refined quarters were located in the northeast corner of the Tiandao Palace, backed against the palace’s perimeter wall.

Outside the wall was the official road that connected Lanyang City to the banks of the Zhebei River, which did not belong to the Tiandao Palace’s grounds.

Placing the short barrels gently against the base of the wall, Ding Suian didn’t have time to catch his breath before turning back to the small hill. There was still one more!

He was a generous person.

Since he was giving a gift, he had to give enough, give plenty, and give a gift that would shake the heavens and move the gods.

Inside the largest of the row of refined quarters in the northeast corner of the Tiandao Palace.

The Lanyang Rector of the State Religion was writing rapidly at his desk. When his brush reached the words “suspect the Buddhist sects of ill intent, using the opportunity to slander the majesty of the Holy Religion,” he suddenly stopped.

Then he added another sentence: “The West Yamen is also suspicious.”

What happened in front of Prince Lanyangs Estate on the fourteenth of the first month could not be hidden.

The “majesty” of the State Religion was heavier than a mountain. When the Vermilion Robe Patriarch failed to investigate the demon, it wasn’t just his Lanyang State Religion’s face that was lost.

To put it bluntly, if this matter spread, it would be a blow to the prestige of the entire State Religion.

In the letter the Vermilion Robe Patriarch wrote to the Three Sages Palace, he did his best to describe the opponent as having great power in order to mitigate his own guilt.

But before the higher-ups could call him to account, the culprit behind the failed “demon investigation,” Ding Suian of the Dragon Guard Army, had to be eliminated first.

And it had to be done in a “public execution” style to restore authority and intimidate the people!

“Knock, knock—”

The sound of knocking interrupted the Vermilion Robe Patriarch’s thoughts. “Come in.”

“Lord Patriarch, Chongli Ward has presented this month’s crimson dew. It was harvested at the Hour of the Tiger this morning, and its Spiritual Qi has not dissipated. Please consume it while it’s fresh, my Lord.”

The protector who walked in was over six feet tall, built with broad shoulders and a thick waist, with tiger-like eyes and a wide mouth, yet he was extremely submissive before the Vermilion Robe Patriarch.

As he spoke, he gently placed the brocade box he held in his hands onto the desk.

Inside the box was a glass bottle with a stopper. The scarlet liquid inside was thick and clung to the walls, shimmering with an eerie light under the candlelight.

“Mm.”

The Vermilion Robe Patriarch set down his brush, took the glass bottle in his hand, removed the stopper with a soft “pop,” leaned forward to take a deep sniff, and his face filled with intoxication.

The muscles beneath his thin, withered skin twitched uncontrollably.

The burly protector stared at the glass bottle containing the crimson dew, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he couldn’t help but stick out his tongue and lick his lips.

But in the next moment, the Vermilion Robe Patriarch’s nostrils flared, and he suddenly said, “The scent is wrong!”

“Ah?”

The burly protector hurriedly shifted his longing gaze away from the crimson dew. “My Lord, how is it wrong? The Senior Brother who delivered the crimson dew said this bottle was harvested from the Silent Sound Realm today, and the Power Of Will is abundant…”

The Vermilion Robe Patriarch did not speak, only stretching his neck to sniff around in the air. As his sniffing movements grew larger, his neck gradually extended over a foot long.

“It’s not the crimson dew! There’s a scent of fire and dryness nearby. Go out and check.”

“Yes.”

The protector complied and walked out of the refined quarters.

“Rumble, rumble—”

A muffled thunder happened to roll from the horizon. The tall and strong protector actually seemed a bit afraid of the thunder; he shrank his neck in fear and cursed softly, “Damned heavens!”

He wasn’t sure what a “scent of fire and dryness” was.

Anyway, the Patriarch told him to check, so he would just wander around aimlessly.

The protector exited the small courtyard of the refined quarters through a side door, intending to head toward the back wall for a patrol. A night wind that wasn’t particularly gentle but wasn’t too strong either blew toward him, and countless leaves swirled in the wind.

The protector, wanting to slack off, stood still for a moment, and a slight sense of incongruity slowly surfaced in his mind.

‘Eh? It’s early spring now, and the flowers, grass, and trees are just beginning to bud. Where did all these palm-sized leaves come from?’

Amidst his confusion, a withered yellow poplar leaf drifted down from the sky before him. The protector carelessly reached out to catch it.

But the slowly falling poplar leaf seemed to possess a life of its own, actually hovering for a moment in the unsupported air.

Then, like a hunting falcon, it suddenly accelerated into a dive, cutting straight toward his throat.

The protector, who was known for his physical toughness, didn’t even have time to sound an alarm before a line of blood seeped from his throat.

Outside the back wall of the refined quarters.

The moment he lit the fuse, Ding Suian turned and sprinted toward the small hill.

For safety’s sake, he had left the fuse a bit long.

So much so that after running two hundred paces and dropping to the ground, there was still no movement.

Another four or five breaths passed. Aside from the sound of the wind, everything around was silent.

‘Did it go out?’

Ding Suian slowly crawled up, intending to wait a moment longer before risking a closer look.

At that moment, in the night sky almost directly above, a pale arc of lightning tore through the heavens.

Immediately followed by a “CRACK!” of thunder that boomed overhead.

It was so loud it made one’s scalp tingle.

“Rumble, rumble—”

Before the echoes could fade, a more shocking, much closer sound of an explosion suddenly erupted.

Thunder from the ground, fire appearing instantly.

A ball of crimson fire bloomed.

The thick, dark night was momentarily illuminated.

The earth shook.

Black smoke expanded and surged, carrying crushed stones and broken wood as it soared into the sky.

A visible shockwave swept in all directions, and dust and sand danced wildly.

A second or two later, the sound of falling objects within the smoke and dust was as dense as a sudden downpour—broken bricks, charred wood, severed limbs, and shredded meat.

“Thud, thud, thud—”

Finally, there were the muffled sounds of small, hard objects wedging into the soil.

Under the light of the fire, points of silver light flickered and shimmered, passing through the dense smoke and falling rapidly. Stars falling across the fields.

It was actually countless pieces of silver being blown into the air.

Ding Suian, who had been knocked over by the shockwave, sat on the ground with his hands propped behind him. Looking up at the silver ingots and sycees in the sky like falling stars, he felt it was quite romantic.

Unfortunately, there was no one to share it with.

Two hundred paces away, the refined quarters were gone.

Ruined walls and broken debris; the structures had collapsed.

The wind fanned the flames, and the fire burned more and more fiercely.

Shortly after, thin threads of rain quietly began to fall.

The 48th Year of legitimacy of the Great Wu, the seventeenth day of the first lunar month, at the second quarter of the Hour of the Rat.

Spring thunder descended from the heavens, and all things were reborn.