Chapter 68 — Blood Washes the Long Street
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 4
The several divine-power practitioners marveled without stint.
One of them said in a low voice, "Young Master, this man moves like surging billows, like monstrous breakers splitting the sky. What he uses is an exceedingly ferocious battle technique. The punches and kicks he just threw—if they could break through their limits, they would be divine powers! "
Seventh Young Master said in astonishment, "He uses battle techniques?
"
"The supreme art among all battle techniques! "
Seventh Young Master nodded gently.
"I have heard the stories of those bygone days. When the Imperial Teacher of Jingping debated the Way with the strong men of the battle-technique lineage, he slew countless grand masters who cultivated battle techniques.
From that time onward, battle techniques could never again stand alongside divine powers and were branded as heterodoxy.
Quite a few heretics fled into the Desolate Ruins. Could he be the disciple of one of those heretics. . .
"
Another attendant said in a low voice, "Crimson Dragon City is not Jingping.
Here dragons and fish mingle indiscriminately, and there are plenty of desperate, utterly vicious people.
We must act with care. Behind this youth, in all likelihood, stand the remnants of those old times. Young Master, let us go at once to meet the General. "
Shen Mu had not struck with the ruthlessness of a killer; when he had moved just now, he had withheld more than half of his strength. But leaving more than a dozen martial artists hanging from the wall was nevertheless frightening enough.
Of course, this was nothing to him—when he had contended with Old Man Huo and the others in the village, and fought the Dark-Fanged Demon Ape and Snow Fox beyond the village, he had unleashed his full strength every time. "Carrying so many dragon coins on one's person is not safe either. Better to buy a few things and send the rest of the coins back to the inn for Granny. "
Yet the youth did not take the matter much to heart.
On the way, he bought some fine silks and satins and had them delivered to the inn, intending to prepare several extra sets of clothing for Old Man Huo, the village head, and the others. Shen Mu also bought some curious novelties, meaning to give them to Old Man Huo, the Lame Elder, and the rest. Only then did he return to the inn. To his surprise, Granny Zhu was not in her room—she had gone out at some unknown time. The blind elder was nowhere to be seen either.
"It is a rare visit. I had best see something of the world.
"
Shen Mu took out a hundred-odd dragon coins, hid the rest well, and walked out of the inn to wander about. By night, Crimson Dragon City seethed with clamor, and it indeed opened his eyes wide: there were martial contests, arena challenges, opera performances, lion and dragon dances, and even those hunting down blood feuds. He drank in the sights and, before he knew it, reached the center of Crimson Dragon City.
Here the buildings were even more imposing and towering, with many ancient structures—presumably left by the people who had lived before darkness shrouded the Desolate Ruins. Temples and shrines, all extraordinarily fine. Shen Mu opened his Cloud-Soaring Celestial Eye and looked at those ancient buildings, clicking his tongue in wonder.
To other eyes, the idols here were mere ordinary statues, but to his eyes they were one deity after another, blazing with ten-thousand-zhang radiance!
He examined them one by one.
He felt little fear toward these deities, yet neither did he profane them—he simply admired the skill of the divine artisans who had carved the statues. Crimson Dragon City was built atop a colossal ruin. The stone statues here had come from the hands of gods and demons of a remote age. In the carving techniques, Shen Mu could perceive a ghostly, godlike workmanship as fluid as drifting clouds and running water, and in a trance he seemed to glimpse one resplendent divine power after another.