My Wife Is A Sword Immortal-Chapter 81 - 70: The Furnace Core Appears

Chapter 81: Chapter 70: The Furnace Core Appears

Zhao Rong thought he should have been the most skilled-looking among the six participants at today’s Confucian and Daoist debate.

Dressed in a simple Confucian robe with sleeves draped over his arms, a black and white Jade Token at his waist, his expression calm, and a light smile on his lips. Hmm, what slightly ruined the image of a master was his handsome face, which he thought was somewhat regrettable.

Still, he should be the one most like an unfathomably deep master among the six on the debate stage.

After all, he was the most unremarkable one on the stage…

But ever since Zhao Rong and his companions descended from their carriage at the foot of Taibai Mountain, passed through the crowded thoroughfare that opened up for them, walked the main road up the mountain, went straight through the midway landscape, and made their way to the Scripture Platform at the summit, Zhao Rong had changed his mind upon seeing the old man, protected by a group of Chongxu Daoists.

There, the old man wore a black Southern Country cloth wrap on his head, dressed in simple cloth robes, his demeanor was understated, holding a string of wooden Flowing Beads in his hand. Upon their arrival, he glanced at them once before turning his gaze to admire the scenery outside the Scripture Platform, looking as serene as the gentle breeze and the passing clouds.

...

This appearance…

It’s bad, he’s a master, Zhao Rong thought.

Not only did the old man’s appearance look the part more than he did, but Zhao Rong could also sense that this Southern Country cloth-wrapped elder truly was a master. Because… this was an understanding among masters; there was no mistake.

Zhao Rong muttered to himself.

At this moment, the positions of the Lanxi Lin clan and Chongxu Temple as they entered the venue were quite interesting.

On the side of the Lanxi Lin clan, Zhao Rong, Lin Wenruo, and Chen Muzhi, led the way, followed by a group of Confucian scholars, Imperial Guard soldiers, and cultivators affiliated with the Lin clan.

Among the three leaders, Zhao Rong was protected and placed central, with the other two standing at his left and right.

This emphasized Zhao Rong’s position, which also aligned with the strategy planned to make the enemy mistake him as a top contender.

On the side of Chongxu Temple, among the three people at the forefront of a large group of Daoists, the old man wearing the Southern Country cloth wrap was guarded in the center.

Zhao Rong’s gaze fall on that elder first, and presumably, everyone else was doing the same, evaluating him. But Zhao Rong wasn’t intimidated and even gave a polite smile to the opposing side, only to be met with angry glares from a group of Daoists.

Considering the two parties were currently enemies caught in a life-or-death struggle, his actions indeed seemed provocative, but Zhao Rong didn’t mind because this was the effect he was after.

Being targeted passively was frustrating, but pulling aggro proactively felt great.

Zhao Rong unabashedly scrutinized the other two participants from Chongxu Temple joining the philosophical discussion.

One was a middle-aged Daoist wearing a Purple Sun Cloth on his head and dressed in an extravagantly complicated Yellow and Purple Eight Diagrams Robe, his demeanor elegant and otherworldly, holding a string of Flowing Beads in his hand.

This man’s robe was lavish, not like the attire of Chongxu Temple Daoists. He must be the State Preceptor Qing Yuanzi, as Lin Wenruo had told him, wearing the Vestment robe that was traditionally worn by successive State Preceptors of Zhongnan Country.

Seemingly aware of Zhao Rong’s gaze, Qing Yuanzi looked back at him. Zhao Rong and he locked eyes, a second passed, and they both shifted their gaze away simultaneously.

The last person was also wearing a Purple Sun Cloth unique to Chongxu Temple, only in a purple Daoist Robe, and appeared middle-aged, but his chin sported a long black beard, as if it had been neglected for a considerable time.

This person was probably Qing Yuanzi’s senior brother, Qing Yuanzi, also considered a worthy opponent by Lin Wenruo, who intended to personally confront him.

Suddenly, Zhao Rong spotted a familiar figure behind the three leaders from the opposite side.

It was that cold and reserved Daoist nun from the other day.

All the Daoists on the field were from Qian Dao except for her, the sole practitioner of Kun Dao, dressed in distinguished purple clothing. It would be hard not to draw attention.

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Zhao Rong noticed her gaze only lingering on him briefly before settling on Lin Wenruo beside him, a realization dawning on him.

So, she was that Lan Yuqing… Strange, why did she look at me as if she wanted to devour someone? Surely she didn’t recognize me? His attire that day had been that of a common servant, his face stained with ash, so different from his current attire that it should have been difficult to identify him… Well, whatever, let her recognize me if she will.

Zhao Rong thought nonchalantly, then glanced sideways at Lin Wenruo. He remained unresponsive, not looking towards Lan Yuqing.

Zhao Rong followed Lin Wenruo’s footsteps towards the left side of the Scripture Platform, their designated spot.

The Scripture Platform was an ancient stage located on top of a prominent peak with an archaic charm to it, seemingly very ancient. Zhao Rong’s mind suddenly recalled what Gui had mentioned about the Louguan Daoist faction, which was once the master of this place.

At the very center of the Scripture Platform stood the tallest stage in the entire venue, accessible only by climbing the steps. At the moment, the stage was very empty, with a low rosewood desk positioned right at the center, adorned with an incense burner on the desk, and a black meditation cushion placed at each side of the table.

The three debates were to be conducted one by one, with only the debating parties allowed on the stage, while the others waited below.

The Scripture Platform was surrounded by tiered seating, which offered a clear view of the debaters on the high stage. By now, these seats were filled with spectators.

Zhao Rong looked around, estimating that there were no fewer than two thousand spectators present.

Those who had been invited and could attend the event were mainly cultivators from the mountain, well-known hermits and distinguished figures, not to mention influential nobles, and even a few from outside of Zhongnan Country. However, the numbers weren’t that large, given that the Punishment Mansion was still blocking traffic on the mountain to Wangque Continent, resulting in slow dissemination of information.

Otherwise, more people from the mountains would have flocked to such a grand gathering.

At this moment, both Chongxu Temple and the Lanxi Lin clan had entered the venue.

Thousands had gathered at the ancient platform, yet the atmosphere was quiet rather than bustling. Only a few were chatting in low voices while most waited silently for the debate to commence at the fourth quarter of the hour of si.

A series of bell chimes rang out, signaling the third quarter of the hour of si.

Suddenly, a group of Imperial Guards flooded through the entrance, followed by a middle-aged man in a bright yellow dragon robe, surrounded and escorted by a group of eunuchs.

Lin Wenruo stood up to greet the ruler of Zhongnan Country, and Qing Yuanzi from the other side did likewise.

The monarch smiled warmly, holding the hands of Lin Wenruo and Qing Yuanzi, who stood to his left and right, saying something as he attempted to pull their hands together. Unfortunately, without success, Lin Wenruo and Qing Yuanzi both shook their heads, refusing to look at each other, leaving the ruler with a sigh and an expression of regret.

Observing this scene, Zhao Rong couldn’t help but smile. If it weren’t for what Lin Wenruo had told him about the inside story of the Confucianism and Daoism debate, he might have been truly fooled by this Emperor—apparently, Emperors are born actors…

“Zhao Rong.”

Zhao Rong felt someone tugging at the hem of his robe, but he did not turn around, instead continuing to watch Lin Wenruo’s group attentively.

Because he knew who it was.

“Zhao Rong, Zhao Rong…” Her voice was soft and tender with a light and gentle beauty characteristic of those from Qiantang Mountain’s dialect. The pleading, almost ingratiating tone made it even more delicate and charming.

“What’s up.”

“Are you still mad?”

“I’m not mad,” Zhao Rong said irritably.

“You say you’re not, but you won’t even look at Xiaoxiao…”

As he watched the ruler’s movements intently, Zhao Rong quickly turned his head to glance at the little Fox Demon tugging at his robe behind him. He promptly turned back to continue observing the other side, “Okay, I’ve looked. I’m not mad. Stop talking now.”

Su Xiaoxiao, dressed as a gentle youth in pink, bit her lip.

With so many people around today, she felt a bit scared; she looked around and then snuggled closer to Zhao Rong, whom she had agreed to be friends with. Her head bowed low, her expression unclear, she switched from holding the hem of his robe with one hand to grasping it with both.

She wanted to apologize, but stubbornly felt she hadn’t done anything wrong.

The two little hands clutching the front of the man’s robe were gripped tightly. The pain from pricking her left index finger three times while sewing the “bare-chested” robe was still faintly throbbing.

“Zhao Rong, don’t be mad. I’ll make you an even nicer one later… Stop being mad, don’t let it ruin your mood. You’re going to be up there debating with someone soon. Zhao Rong, you can do it! You’ll win…”

Zhao Rong was startled, then the corners of his mouth curled slightly. Silly girl, this wasn’t a quarrel… but then again, it was close enough.

And with that, whatever irritation he felt that morning dissipated.

Just as Zhao Rong was about to turn and look at Su Xiaoxiao, a shout exploded in his mind.

“It’s the Furnace Core, I see the Furnace Core!”

Zhao Rong took a deep breath, “Alright, alright, stop yelling. You almost scared me to death. Last time was the same…”

“But it’s the Furnace Core! Over there!”

Zhao Rong pursed his lips, “I know, let it be for now. I really need to talk to you. Don’t keep startling me like this. If this goes on, I reckon I’ll be the first Sword Master scared to death by his own Sword Spirit.”

“Fine, fine, I promise I won’t yell anymore… unless I can’t help it… Okay, now hurry up and get the Furnace Core.”

Zhao Rong exhaled.

“Where’s the Furnace Core?”