Chapter 250 - 248: Departure
Chen Li felt his Sea of Consciousness quake violently as illusions sprang up before his eyes.
Rage, hatred, greed, obsession, craving, aversion, lust...
These negative emotions surged like a tidal wave, frantically battering the defenses of his Heart Spirit.
He didn’t dare to hesitate, circulating the Prajna Glaze Heart Sutra of the Self-Viewing.
A cool, pure Intention washed over him like a gentle rain, instantly sweeping away the negative emotions. His Heart Spirit returned to a state of pristine clarity.
Within his Divine Hall Acupoint, the soybean-sized cluster of his Divine Sense suddenly erupted with a brilliant light.
The next moment, that point of Divine Sense expanded explosively, instantly transforming into the majestic, seven-foot-tall phantom of a War Ape.
It took a step out from between Chen Li’s eyebrows, directly breaking free from the constraints of his physical body.
Wielding a golden staff, it swung frantically, hacking and slashing at the Divine Sense threads that swirled around it.
This clash on the plane of Divine Sense was silent, yet exceedingly perilous.
"TSSSK!"
The illusions receded slightly in the staff’s wake, and great swaths of Divine Soul Threads were scattered by the ferocious Staff Intent.
However, the threads seemed endless. No sooner were they scattered than more would spawn from the void, surging forward in relentless waves to ensnare it, clinging like a festering plague.
Chen Li’s Divine Soul Battle Ape was completely submerged in this ocean of threads.
Should even a single thread breach its defenses and touch his core Divine Sense, it would instantly trigger a corresponding obsession or inner demon from deep within his heart. This caused his Divine Soul to shudder and his aura to falter.
’What a bizarre Secret Skill.’
Chen Li was inwardly alarmed.
He knew his opponent couldn’t maintain this technique for long, but it was uncertain how long he himself could endure. A prolonged battle was definitely not a good idea.
’Dragging this out might not be to my advantage.’
’I have to end this quickly!’
His thoughts raced, and he acted decisively.
The golden staff in the Divine Sense Illusion’s hands suddenly vanished, reappearing a moment later in the grasp of his physical body.
The Divine Soul Battle Ape changed its fighting style, executing the airtight defensive forms of the Five Directions Twenty-Four Solar Terms Wuxiang Fist and shifting to a purely defensive strategy.
At the same time, Chen Li’s physical body stepped forward, his body and intent merging into one.
The Qiankun Ruyi Staff in his hand executed what looked like a simple, straightforward thrust.
It was not particularly fast, nor did it have any dazzling light effects or a heaven-shaking aura. Yet, it was a strike that concentrated all his power, aimed directly at the middle-aged man’s physical body.
’Divine Intent?’
The middle-aged man was pouring all his energy into activating the Thousand Machines Illusion Divine Technique. His Divine Sense had left his body to weave its net, leaving his physical form completely unguarded and vulnerable.
He never imagined that Chen Li could still control his physical body while his Divine Sense was away from it, and for a moment, he was utterly shocked and terrified.
He wanted to instantly recall his Divine Soul to its vessel and command his body to dodge or defend.
But Chen Li’s strike, which concentrated all his Essence, Qi, and Spirit, was too fast and too ferocious. He had no time to react.
’No...!’
The middle-aged man’s Divine Soul let out a silent, desperate shriek.
"BAM!"
The Qiankun Ruyi Staff slammed squarely into the middle-aged man’s Dantian Qi Sea.
The sounds of cracking bone and rupturing organs rang out simultaneously.
The middle-aged man’s body shook violently, his eyes bulged, and a clear shattering sound came from his Dantian.
The Divine Soul phantom in mid-air let out a mournful shriek, dimmed instantly, and then transformed into a streak of light that scrambled back into its physical body.
"PTUI!"
The middle-aged man’s eyes bulged, filled with despair and pain, as blood gushed from his mouth and nose like a fountain.
His body crumpled bonelessly to the ground, and he immediately lost consciousness. His breathing was now terrifyingly faint.
"Boss!"
Seeing this, the members of the Eight Generals of Wind Gate were horrified, crying out in shock. They wanted to rush forward, but were too weak from their injuries and could only watch helplessly.
Chen Li stood with his staff, panting slightly.
’I’ve been refining that Divine Soul and True Intent for over three months, but I’ve still only managed to process less than a quarter of that vast Qiankun Qi Roaming Dragon True Intent.’
’But I’ve already reached the point where I can use my Divine Intent to drive my body to attack.’
’Still, that explosive burst just now took a huge toll on my Divine Soul.’
"He won’t die."
Chen Li glanced at the men of Wind Gate and said coolly, "Once I get what I want, I’ll naturally let him go. Also..."
His tone turned cold. "The Elixirs I gave you earlier? No need to keep hiding them in your nasal cavities, waiting for a chance to spit them out. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your little tricks?"
The expressions of the Eight Generals of Wind Gate immediately turned to utter embarrassment.
They hadn’t expected him to see through their little trick so easily.
But hearing that their boss wasn’t dead, they ultimately sighed in relief.
Yet looking at their unconscious boss and the unfathomable, ruthless middle-aged man before them, a sense of bitterness and powerlessness welled up in their hearts.
’This man is meticulous and terrifyingly strong. Trying to pull a fast one on him would be next to impossible.’
"You..."
Chen Li ignored them, his gaze turning to Qian Dalei in the corner, who was already pale with fright.
When Chen Li’s gaze fell on him, Qian Dalei practically crawled and scrambled over, tears and snot streaming down his face. "Senior, Senior, spare me! I... I’m not pretending! I’m really Qian Dalei, a government constable from the Liyang County Magistrate’s Office.
"Senior, I have elderly parents and young children at home! My whole family depends on my meager salary to get by. I beg you, please be merciful and spare my pathetic life!"
Chen Li looked at him, his tone flat. "Where do you live?"
Qian Dalei hastily relayed his address in detail, even including the names of his elderly mother and young son.
After listening, Chen Li nodded. "Every year, I will have someone send enough silver taels to your home to ensure they never have to worry about food or clothing."
Qian Dalei froze for a second before the meaning of those words hit him. He began kowtowing frantically, screaming hoarsely, "Senior... wait! I didn’t see anything that happened here tonight! I didn’t hear a thing! I swear it! And—and I’m willing to take your Elixir! Please, spare my worthless life! I’ll do anything you say, I’ll be your loyal dog!"
The Qiankun Ruyi Staff in Chen Li’s hand paused. After a moment of thought, he flicked out an Elixir. "From now on, you are not Qian Dalei."
"Thank you for sparing my life, Senior! Thank you!"
Qian Dalei hastily swallowed the Elixir and resumed kowtowing, his forehead hammering the ground. "Please... please grant me a new name, Senior."
"Let’s call you Qian Shitong."
Chen Li retracted his staff and, without a second glance at the man on the floor, turned to Elder Zhan, who was barely standing with Zhou Qingyi’s support. "We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s go."
Elder Zhan nodded. "We’ll follow your arrangements, Patriarch Chen."
Zhou Qingyi glanced at Qian Dalei, her mouth twitching, but in the end, she said nothing.
...
He Niu Martial Arts Academy.
Dormitory.
Chen Shouheng silently packed a few changes of clothes and some daily necessities into a blue cloth travel bag, his eyes showing a hint of unconcealable weariness and relief.
Two months ago, he had submitted a long-leave application to the Martial Arts Academy, citing his need to prepare for the Martial Examination’s Provincial Examination.
It had finally been approved, allowing him to temporarily escape this place of conflict, which had become increasingly clamorous—a downright toxic environment.
Looking back on the past few months at the Martial Arts Academy, it all felt like a daze; he wasn’t sure how he’d made it through.
Ever since the Dean proposed the topic "On Replacing Rice with Mulberry" and required all the students to present their views, the entire He Niu Martial Arts Academy had been like a placid lake shattered by a thrown boulder, its waters churning in chaos to this day.
Several hundred students quickly and fiercely divided into two clearly distinct factions.
The Grain Sect and the Sang Sect.
At first, it was merely debates during breaks between classes and over meals. Students would quote the classics and argue their points on whether growing grain to stabilize the foundation of the nation was more important, or whether growing mulberry to profit from the silk industry was a greater benefit.
But most of the students here were young people.
Being young and hot-blooded, the atmosphere grew more explosive, and debates soon escalated into shouting matches, which then evolved into physical brawls.
Fighting over a debate one day, turning on their own roommates due to internal disagreements the next—this had practically become the norm at the Martial Arts Academy.
What was even more exhausting was that this trend had already begun to erode their daily lessons.
Even the Masters would often test the students with questions like, "If you were a County Magistrate, how would you promote agriculture and sericulture in your county?" or "Between canal transport and the silk road, which is more important?"
All under the guise of "applying one’s learning and being concerned with current events."
The result was that the classrooms would instantly turn into noisy marketplaces.
All sides would argue until they were red in the face, ultimately dispersing unhappily, with no one actually caring about the real lessons.
If it were only the two main factions clashing, that would have been one thing.
The tragedy was that, even under the two great banners of "Grain" and "Mulberry," the factions themselves had splintered into countless smaller cliques over trivial matters.
Coming from the same hometown, being in the same class, or even having a different master—any of these could become a reason to splinter off and form a new gang.
Later on, the focus of the debates had long strayed from the original "rice" and "mulberry," turning into pure ego-driven conflicts and factional power grabs.
Sometimes, even an unintentional remark or a sideways glance could trigger a massive brawl.
The goal was no longer to persuade the other side, but to crush them and glorify their own faction.
Even Chen Shouheng’s relatively quiet post as the bell-ringer couldn’t escape the turmoil.
Arguing parties would often show up at the foot of the Bell Tower, demanding he weigh in, or they would just start fighting nearby, shattering his peace.
And in the face of this chaos, the academy’s leadership turned a blind eye; in fact, it seemed they were fanning the flames.
The Martial Arts Academy, a Pure Land that should have been for dedicated practice of the Martial Dao and the honing of one’s character, had now completely devolved into a clamorous, hostile arena, no longer suitable for quiet cultivation.
’It’s time to leave.’
Chen Shouheng tied his bag shut and sighed softly.
He straightened up and glanced around the quiet, humble room, a pang of reluctance in his heart.
Song Zilian was still on duty at the Bell Tower, but he had already said his goodbyes to him the previous night.
He was heading down the mountain with Zhou Shuwei, as they had planned.
Zhou Shuwei had also been deeply affected by the turmoil these past few months, and her lovely face was often tinged with exhaustion.
The two of them had successfully completed their departure procedures at the Dining Hall and received their travel papers.
Chen Shouheng thought for a moment and asked Zhou Shuwei to wait for him at the mountain gate.
He decided to go to Tingzhu Cottage to bid farewell to Duan Mengjing.
Although Master Duan wasn’t his official Master, his kindness toward him within the Martial Arts Academy had surpassed that of his actual Master.
Tingzhu Cottage was as quiet and secluded as ever, the shadows of the bamboo swaying gently, completely isolated from the clamor outside.
Duan Mengjing was sitting on a stone stool brewing tea. Seeing Chen Shouheng arrive with his luggage, he wasn’t surprised, merely nodding slightly. "Leaving?"
"Yes, Master. I came to say goodbye."
Chen Shouheng bowed respectfully.
"It’s for the best."
Duan Mengjing motioned for him to sit. "This academy is no longer a place for learning. With your current Cultivation and foundation, it shouldn’t be difficult for you to pass the Provincial Examination and earn the title of Scholar. It’s just..."
He paused, looking at Chen Shouheng. "As for the Metropolitan Examination... don’t be in a hurry to take it. It would be best to let your foundations settle for a few more years."
Chen Shouheng was slightly surprised. "Master, why is that?"