Chapter 169 - Festival’s Eve (Part VIII) (Patreon)

Inside a spacious, well-lit wooden room, with paper doors and windows etched with runes forming a defensive formation, Wang Chen sat motionless beside Lucian's mattress. His knees were crossed, his hands resting on his lap, and his eyes fixed on Lucian's sleeping body.

Blinking, Wang Chen felt a bead of sweat slide down his forehead, run across the bridge of his nose, and gather into a larger droplet that was about to fall to the floor.

Before it could, a gentle breeze swept through the sealed room, drying it away.

"You're too nervous, little one," a voice sounded behind him. It was feminine and mature, with a hint of kindness. After speaking those words, Madame Ching stepped out from the shadows and continued, "The worst has already passed. He'll wake up soon. He has to."

With a dry chuckle, another figure answered before Wang Chen could.

"You'd all better pray to the Nine Heavens that he does," said Grandmaster Miao with a somber tone.

Dark circles hung beneath his tired eyes, and his face carried an exhausted expression, as though he hadn't rested properly in days.

Hearing his words, two other people in the room stirred. One of them was Zhi Jian, who seemed completely unconcerned. He sat quietly reading one of the books Lucian and Wang Chen had bought shortly after arriving in the city. He had stolen from their warehouse.

The other person, Lord Ye Ren, sat cross-legged nearby, wearing only a simple shirt over his muscular frame, his arms folded as he silently frowned with his eyes closed.

Surrounded by so many Foundation Establishment experts, Wang Chen didn't dare admit that the real reason for his nervousness was their presence. What could he do if they decided to hurt Lucian? Nothing!

Almost six days earlier, while training, he had watched Lucian suddenly collapse to the floor. Terrified that an old injury had flared up or a hidden attack had been thrown, Wang Chen had rushed to the main building in search of help.

Unfortunately, Grandmaster Miao wasn't there.

The servants had done everything they could for Lucian during that time, but none of them could determine what had happened.

Grandmaster Miao returned two days later after being confined inside the Feathered Serpent Pagoda alongside the others, digesting the gains bestowed by the City Lord. Needless to say, the moment he saw Lucian's condition, he was both furious and distressed.

Publicly, he practically cursed the Nine Heavens after learning that Young Master Bo Xian had collapsed while he himself had been summoned away.

Soon afterward, official news spread throughout Three Feathers City.

Young Master Bo Xian and his allies had ventured into the Broken Maze to eliminate the remaining rogue members of the Tidal Church, the true culprits behind the massacre and the district's mayhem.

Feathered Serpent Castle officially declared the threat had been eliminated and announced that the Broken Maze would be rebuilt into a new district before the upcoming festival.

The sudden influx of jobs, silver, and labor quickly occupied the populace. They didn't have much time to mourn before they were given countless tasks.

No matter how loudly some people voiced their doubts, the dead remained dead, and the living still had to live.

So when the public learned that the selfless Young Master Bo Xian had served as bait to lure out the rogue cultivators and had been gravely injured later, countless voices demanded that the authorities ensure he recovered and apprehend the culprits.

It all fit very well. They had to focus on their lives, but also found an outlet for their frustration.

Naturally, the Bo Merchant Chamber quietly manipulated public opinion to elevate Bo Xian's prestige. Bo Qing was even said to pray daily in seclusion, as if to show that he too was mourning, just like the rest of the population.

Unfortunately, things quickly spiraled beyond Grandmaster Miao’s expectations.

Madame Ching, Lord Ye Ren, and Zhi Jian personally came to check on Lucian's condition, each displaying genuine concern.

Worse still, the Noble Faction and the Sect Faction within the City Council began spreading rumors that Grandmaster Miao himself had orchestrated the incident. People were saying that Bo Qing was long dead, and the heir was the last obstacle between Grandmaster Miao and the Chairman’s position.

This shift had happened because those two Factions were scared!

Madame Ching had abandoned them after the meeting with the City Lord, while Vice-Lord Vermilion Tide was nowhere to be seen. Besides, the Military Faction had unexpectedly gained another Foundation Establishment supporter, Grandmaster Miao.

With this, Verdant Creek's influence stood second only to Obsidian Sea's, leaving her enemies unable to eat or sleep peacefully for days.

Because of this and other reasons, as time passed and the festival drew closer, almost every Foundation Establishment expert connected to Lucian gradually gathered inside his room.

None of them had much of a choice.

If Lucian died, or never woke up, someone would inevitably be held responsible, and not a single one of them wanted that burden. After all, only five people had passed the City Lord's test.

Zhi Jian, Grandmaster Miao, Madame Ching, Vice-Lord Vermilion Tide, and Lucian.

More importantly, Lucian had been the last to leave. So, to everyone else, that could only mean that City Lord valued him the most!

None of them knew what had truly happened inside the Feathered Serpent Pagoda, but they didn’t dare let either Lucian or the City Lord suspect they were plotting behind the scenes.

Besides, every one of them had something they wanted to discuss with Lucian.

Grandmaster Miao needed Lucian to ensure Bo Qing would survive through the decades. Zhi Jian wished to uphold their agreement and seek the answer to one of his deepest regrets through an Ancestor. Madame Ching hoped Lucian would mediate a deal with Lord Ye Ren so she could increase the odds of finding her family.

And there was still one more person.

During their silence, the paper door slid open. Then, draped in black robes, Zou Si stepped inside and bowed slightly, saying, "Vice-Lord Verdant Creek has arrived."

The others offered shallow bows and said, "We greet Vice-Lord Verdant Creek."

A moment later, Verdant Creek entered, concealed behind her familiar mask and carrying her green parasol. She walked directly to Lucian's bedside, without greeting anyone else.

Several seconds passed before she spoke.

"His soul fluctuations have been almost completely still for six days. It's as though he's trapped within a deep dream." She sighed softly. "I wished to ask Lord Husband for help, but Big Sister Obsidian Sea refused to let me enter the main hall or the bed chambers."

Rotating her parasol, Verdant Creek knelt beside Lucian. With her free hand, she gently brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, leaning close to his ear.

"Please wake up, Fellow Daoist," she whispered, her voice gentle yet tinged with sadness. "Believe me, I knew nothing of their plot. The festival begins tomorrow. You need to come."

After a long silence, she straightened her back and turned toward Lord Ye Ren.

"You should return," she said softly. "People in your manor have begun spreading rumors that you're defecting from the Sect Faction to the Military Faction."

Lord Ye Ren merely shrugged, remaining seated without opening his eyes.

Verdant Creek smiled helplessly before turning back toward Lucian's peaceful face. Seconds became minutes, and when half an hour had passed, she shook her head and rose to her feet.

Turning toward Grandmaster Miao, she said, "Wei Zhang requires more Black Flowing Dragon scales. The starlight corroding his body has weakened, but not dissipated."

Grandmaster Miao nodded. "Fine. Same price."

He wasn't in the mood for conversation.

Returning the gesture with a gentle smile, Verdant Creek turned to leave. However, after a single step, the air in the room suddenly stilled, and every single person instinctively looked toward Lucian.

His breathing had changed.

Qi began circulating through his body once more, his cultivation radiating the aura of a high-stage Qi Gathering cultivator with eight meridians open.

In their eyes, such a cultivation was no different from that of an insect. However, not a single person looked down on him because of it. They all treated it as a concealment technique.

Wang Chen, unaware of what the others were thinking, stared at Lucian with wide eyes. He felt no Qi, but he could hear Lucian's breathing just fine!

Next, they heard Lucian taking a slow, deep breath, and a moment later, he opened his eyes.

His body creaked as he sat upright, his gaze sweeping across the room. He identified every person's position and presence, his mind working overtime to justify their presence.

"Wang Chen," he said, glancing at the stunned young man. "Next time, just hide my body."

Wang Chen froze for a moment. Then, his lips trembled as tears welled in his eyes. Pushing down his feelings, he nodded vigorously and said, "Benefactor, I sincerely hope there won't be a next time."