M49S Vol 1 Chapter 47. Song Of Water Dragon

Tang Li had never imagined that, in his lifetime, he would witness such a grand scene of countless elites from the cultivation world lining up beneath the storm to be struck by lightning.

The wind howled, the rain poured, thunder roared and lightning flashed. Cultivators stood tall amid the storm, raising their swords toward the heavens to summon lightning upon their bodies. Their courage and fearlessness stirred something deep within the heart.

The sixth and seventh floors had fallen completely silent.

No one knew how long the silence lasted before Jin Man let out a sudden chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, clapped lazily and praised, “Good. Good. Very good. They’ve got guts.”

After speaking, he turned his phoenix eyes slightly toward Wang Changlin. “Patriarch Wang, you’ve got quite the nephew. Patient, restrained, then astonishing when it counts. Looks like the Wang family has its future secured.”

“You flatter us, Lord Jin,” Wang Changlin replied, a faint smile appearing as he swept away a trace of something unreadable in his eyes.

Chen Wujie gave him a glance but said nothing. He turned instead to the nearby empty seat. The internal matters of the Wang clan were not his concern. What interested him more was, where had Meng Qiqi gone?

Meng Qiqi, at that very moment, was out on the water.

Killing.

Xiujian skimmed across the river’s surface. Several water arrows, wrapped in sword aura, shot out low over the water, forcing back two shadowy figures approaching from either side. The water arrows dissolved on contact, but the sword aura within them pierced silently into the flesh.

At the same time, he kicked the bow of the boat. “Go.”

The boatman, honest and unassuming, had never seen anything like this in his life. His mind hadn’t yet caught up to how the gentle scholar in front of him had suddenly become a swordsman of the jianghu, but his hands acted on instinct, pushing the boat away.

Fortunately, none of the attackers gave chase. A moment later, the boatman couldn’t help glancing back. He saw that scholar swing his sword, slicing through half a willow tree. The soft strands of hanging branches snapped across the water like a whip, scattering droplets in all directions. The scholar’s toes landed lightly on the willow tips, and with one leap, he lunged forward again into the fray.

Above him, dark clouds raced across the sky, and light broke through briefly at the tip of his sword. He raised the blade, and with the force of his descent, struck the water with a single slash. In that instant, the river surged upward from the point of impact, massive waves rising on both sides. At the very tip of his blade, where sunlight flashed, a burst of vital force exploded outward. Empowered by sword essence, it surged forward through the opening he had cleaved, cutting through the waves.

The once-clear water roared and churned. The boatman stood frozen, his mouth wide open in shock, forgetting even to push his pole.

In that cleft in the water, it felt as though he saw a dragon.

A dragon made entirely of water. Its form was indistinct, but he was certain, that was a dragon. And he could hear it roar.

The boatman did not hear the cry that came from the decorated barge ahead: “Song of the Water Dragon,” the eighteenth form of the Gushan sword technique. He only knew that he had never witnessed anything so miraculous. He clutched his chest, listened to the pounding of his heart and murmured in awe, “Heavens above…”

As for why Meng Qiqi had suddenly found himself in a fight, one had to go back to the time of one incense stick earlier.

An incense stick before, the man in black robes, likely the bell-ringer, had come ashore. Meng Qiqi hesitated briefly over whether to pursue him, but in the end, chose to stay put.

The decorated barge was the real key.

The black-robed man and the mysterious figure had spent the entire night on that vessel. It was almost certainly one of their hideouts, if not the main one. Daoist Wuyan might still be aboard.

So Meng Qiqi held his position. Before long, two more people left the boat. Judging the timing right, he decided to infiltrate.

But plans rarely kept pace with fate. As the small boat glided gently forward through the misty rain, just as it was drawing near the barge, a child on the riverbank suddenly fell into the water.

There was no one on the shore, and no other boats nearby. The little boy splashed and wailed, barely able to stay afloat. In just a few breaths, he might have drowned. Meng Qiqi could not bring himself to ignore it. He flew across the water, scooped the child out, and returned him safely to land.

But in doing so, he revealed himself.

The people aboard the decorated barge heard the noise and came out to investigate. Meng Qiqi had not concealed his face, and they recognized him at a glance. Fortunately, the man in black had already left. Had he still been there, things would not have ended so easily.

Just then, the white-masked figure on the barge called out, “Song of the Water Dragon,” at the same moment Meng Qiqi’s strike landed. The bow split apart, and the people on board were forced to retreat.

The masked man leapt onto the treetop by the riverbank and raised a hand to block the aftermath of the Song of the Water Dragon. Though he had reacted in time to avoid the direct blow, the sound of the dragon’s roar still struck his spiritual sea, sending a sharp pain through his mind.

If even he was affected, there was no need to mention his subordinates. He forcibly calmed the churning in his consciousness, then looked coldly at Meng Qiqi. “Are you choosing to make yourself our enemy?”

“Hardly,” Meng Qiqi landed lightly on the drifting half-willow still afloat on the water. “Weren’t you the ones who invited me here? Now that I’ve arrived, where is Wuyan?”

The masked man sharply turned to look at the capsized barge. The barge had been destroyed, and everyone aboard had already evacuated. If Wuyan had been on that boat, he should have come out by now. But he hadn’t.

Meng Qiqi had done it on purpose. He had used the Song of the Water Dragon to destroy the barge precisely to confirm Wuyan’s whereabouts. Now that Wuyan had not appeared, it cast real doubt on whether he was ever on board to begin with. The masked man narrowed his eyes. “Of course Wuyan is somewhere safe. You’ve been following me this whole time. Did you not see someone leave the boat just now? He’s gone to retrieve Wuyan.”

“A mere Daoist Wuyan, and you’ve gone to all this trouble for him?” Meng Qiqi said sneered.

“Why wouldn’t we? Didn’t you come all the way here just to find him?” the masked man countered.

Meng Qiqi shook his head. “You replaced Wuyan with one of your own people and planted him inside the Wang clan, yet you’ve stayed hidden, unwilling to show yourselves. Clearly, you’re not in league with the them. As for what I want Wuyan for, you should already know. Our goals might not be exactly the same, but they’re not far off. Just hand Wuyan over to me, and I’ll take care of the rest. It’s a fair deal for both sides. But, here we are wasting time attacking each other, letting the Wang family profit from our conflict. Is that worth it?”

The masked man hesitated. He had to admit, Meng Qiqi was dangerous, but he wasn’t wrong. Their operation in Jinling was aimed at the Wang clan and the secret realm. Gushan Sword was not on their list of enemies. Giving up Wuyan, who was now useless to them, would actually save them a great deal of effort.

That had been their original plan. But aside from handing Wuyan over, they had hoped Meng Qiqi would agree to do one more thing for them.

Unfortunately, Meng Qiqi had refused to cooperate last night.

“I have one condition,” the masked man said at last, choosing to speak plainly.

“Go ahead,” Meng Qiqi raised a brow. “But make it quick. That last strike was loud. Someone will be coming soon.”

This was exactly what Meng Qiqi wanted. He needed to stay in control of the situation. The reason he had struck first the night before was to avoid being pushed into a passive role, to keep himself from becoming a weapon in someone else’s hand.

The masked man said coldly, “It’s simple. We want you to kill Wang Jing.”

Wang Jing? Their target was Wang Jing?

Meng Qiqi frowned. “There’s not enough time. If I have to kill Wang Jing, the Knock upon the Immortal Gate might already be over by then.”

“Why would that be? I have full faith in Little Martial Uncle Meng’s strength,” the masked man replied. Just as he spoke, he suddenly caught the sound of footsteps, swift and closing in fast.

And whoever it was, they were not here peacefully.

Meng Qiqi heard it as well. At first, he assumed it was the masked man’s reinforcements, but when he saw the masked man’s subordinates shift into defensive stances, he immediately dismissed that idea.

The strike arrived before the attacker did.

A streak of black light cut through Meng Qiqi’s thoughts. He swung his sword and slashed it from the air, but before it could fall into the water, a rain of black light burst in from all directions, all of it aimed straight at him.

By now, there was no doubt who their target was.

Meng Qiqi’s gaze turned cold, sharp killing intent rising in his eyes.

His sword swept out in a wide arc. The crisp, metallic clatter of flying daggers filled the air. In just a few moments, he caught a glimpse of something unusual in the color of the water.

The daggers were poisoned. These people truly meant to kill him.

Wang Jing.

The name shot through Meng Qiqi’s mind. Who else could it be?

The masked man suddenly smiled. The black-clad attackers pouring in from both sides of the river didn’t so much as glance at him. He drifted lightly onto a rooftop, stood at the eaves, and watched Meng Qiqi with a cheerful gaze.

“Meng Xiu, how about we make a wager? If you make it out of this ambush alive, I’ll hand Wuyan over to you myself. What do you say?”

Meng Qiqi kicked one attacker square in the chest, then spun around and slit another’s throat behind him. As blood sprayed through the air, he turned his head and answered coolly, “No deal.”

As the words left his mouth, four more masked men struck from every direction, closing in without leaving a single gap.

Meng Qiqi stomped down hard with his right foot. The broken willow beneath him sprang upright, scattering water in a spray of glinting ripples.

The sudden lift of the willow threw one of the attackers off for just a moment. Meng Qiqi let out a cold laugh, grabbed a swinging branch, and whipped it outward like a meteor hammer.

The strand, pulsing with his vital force, slammed into one of the black-clad figures. The impact flung the man backward, and the willow strand burst apart under the force of the blow.

But the gap was open. Meng Qiqi shot out of the encirclement, then turned and struck back.

Blood sprayed out, and in a blink, it had dyed the water around Meng Qiqi red.

The masked man had not yet left. He waved his subordinates back and stayed behind to watch alone. The longer he watched, the harder it became to suppress the admiration rising in his chest.

Ruthless, efficient, deadly. Not bad at all.

But it didn’t take long before he could no longer stand on the sidelines. Meng Qiqi, still locked in combat, led a group of black-clad pursuers right toward him. As he flew past, he shouted, “Brother Jin, lend me a hand!”

The masked man’s expression changed instantly. He turned and ran.

But Meng Qiqi had anticipated this. With a move like a shadow cutting across light, he suddenly reappeared at the masked man’s side. He was still smiling, full of mockery. “Why are you running, Brother Jin?”

“Bastard! Shameless!” the masked man cursed aloud.

Who was Brother Jin? Whatever the masked man thought, the black-clad attackers had only one reaction: Jin Man. And if this man was truly Jin Man, who had a long-standing grudge with the Wang clan, and he happened to witness them attempting to kill Meng Qiqi.

There was only one solution.

Kill them all.

In an instant, blades and swords flashed as their pursuers closed in. The masked man was forced to fight back alongside Meng Qiqi, utterly miserable in the process. To make matters worse, Meng Qiqi was still bargaining as he fought, cutting down enemies while speaking as if nothing were out of place. “Brother Jin, if I save your life today, how about handing Wuyan over to me?”

“Get lost!”

Meng Qiqi showed no anger. He cut down two more enemies while weaving through the chaos, then flicked the blood from his sword. His voice, wrapped in vital force, carried clearly to the masked man’s ear. “Believe me. If you agree, we can escape together. But if you refuse, then you’ll die here today.”

The masked man understood instantly. Surrounded by enemies, cornered on all sides, if Meng Qiqi truly meant to help him, there was still a chance of survival. But if Meng Qiqi turned on him instead…

A cold bead of sweat slid down the masked man’s temple. He gripped his sword tightly and growled, “Aren’t you afraid I might turn on you instead?”

“I’m not,” Meng Qiqi replied calmly. “Not unless you want to die with me.”