Venerable One?

Hearing the note of reproach in his voice, Sun Fuping replied hurriedly, "The sacrifices here fled, so I had no choice but to activate the backup array outside and summon the Venerable One inside from there. Did something happen out there? Are you feeling unwell?" His first choice of sacrifice had been He Lingchuan and Maotao, but those two scoundrels had slipped away the moment they sensed trouble. He had been left with no choice but to fall back on his secondary plan, using He Chunhua and the others as sacrifices before utilizing other means to summon the invited deity into this realm. Having to go through an extra transfer had been an unavoidable compromise. With a stony face, Nian Songyu said, "A hitch arose outside, causing my strength to wane. This black flood dragon revives in an endless cycle; it cannot possibly be its true form. I need you to find what anchors its existence!" With that, he raised a hand and drew two circles above Sun Fuping's head in a sprinkling motion. Tiny glints of light trickled from between his fingers, fluttering like blossoms and drifting like abundant snow, fine and delicate as they showered over Sun Fuping's entire body. To an onlooker, it might have appeared as though he were merely scattering shiny powder over Sun Fuping. Only Sun Fuping himself knew that the sensation was like gentle spring rain reviving the earth. Not only did his mind, heart, and lungs feel cleansed and renewed, but seven or eight tenths of the injuries across his body were instantly healed. Earlier, He Lingchuan had manned the siege engines and subjected him to two rounds of furious bombardment—devastation no ordinary man could withstand. Sun Fuping had exhausted every life-saving trick in his arsenal, and only with Nian Songyu shielding him with all his might had he barely held on. Even so, his injuries had been catastrophic, with internal damage far outstripping his external wounds; managing to remain standing had been a miracle in itself. It was only because a dozen or so thieves were still standing atop the wall that he had been forced to put on a brave front. Yet the Venerable One had soothed his injuries with effortless ease. This was far beyond mortal capability, and Sun Fuping's awe and reverence deepened all the more. "Pray grant me your guidance, Venerable One!" He had no idea that the Venerable One before him was in truth thoroughly displeased. Divine descent was an exceptionally perilous process; before entering its host vessel, the so-called divine will of a heavenly god was particularly vulnerable to harm. During that phase, Sun Fuping had failed to guard and assist him, committing a grave taboo. However, instances of successful divine descent in history could be counted on one hand, and such secrets were never meant for outsider ears. Even if Sun Fuping had worn out every ancient text reading them ragged, he could never have known. Fortunately, the Venerable One still needed him to resolve his current dilemma, which was why he had squeezed out a sliver of divine power to heal the mortal's wounds. "As the anchor of the flood dragon's existence, it must be something that has remained constant from start to finish, and something this great blaze could not destroy. Furthermore, it is not the Dafang Pot. Since you managed to find your way all the way here, you surely have some inkling." The Venerable One gave his hint; what came next was for Sun Fuping to figure out. Sun Fuping nodded, then quickly asked, "Venerable One, what of my position as National Preceptor?" Nian Songyu gave a sinister smile. "If we make it out of here, your wish will be granted." The heavy weight on Sun Fuping's heart finally lifted. Before the Gale Army could attack anew, he darted into the ruins. ... The Venerable One had offered only a single clue, but as Sun Fuping mulled it over for a moment, he could not help but be shaken. "Find what anchors the black flood dragon's existence"—put colloquially, it meant finding the adversary's lifeline. Yet the crux of those words extended far beyond the simple revelation that the dragon's true form was not on the battlefield. Sun Fuping possessed keen discernment and broad experience. He had long realized the reason the black flood dragon was undying was that it had hidden its vital point in advance and was drawing on the Dafang Pot's power to repeatedly mend its injuries. For a monster like this, how could it die if its vital point were never struck? Yet the Venerable One's words held a deeper meaning, and the more he pondered them, the more chilling they became. Sun Fuping had always believed the black flood dragon was an artifact spirit born secretly from the Dafang Pot. If that were truly so, why would the Venerable One instruct him to search for its anchor? Wouldn't the Dafang Pot itself be the dragon's anchor? Yet the Venerable One had specifically ruled that out. Then what in the world was that black flood dragon? Sun Fuping ran for a time and even paused amid the ruins for a good while before a flash of inspiration struck his mind. *Could it be?* He changed direction and headed due north. The city of ruins before him was what Panlong Ancient City had truly looked like after the allied armies retreated all those years ago. The peaceful, prosperous tranquility seen earlier had merely been an illusion—flowers in a mirror, the moon in water. Yet between the past and the present, there had to be something that remained unchanged. Before long, Sun Fuping passed the Zhong residence with its towering gates and expansive courtyards. Zhong Shengguang had later bought this property from the Chen family and remodeled it, replacing the plaque above the entrance. Sun Fuping did not linger; this was not the place he sought. He went straight through the government offices, bounded across a colossal, dried-up ravine, and finally reached another stretch of ruins— The official residences. At least, they had been the official quarters of Panlong City before their destruction. Compared to peacetime, the quarters here had also undergone massive changes. Even so, Sun Fuping quickly located his goal. It was an unremarkable compound consisting of only two rooms and a small courtyard. A burial mound sat in the courtyard. Sun Fuping ignored the mound, turned, and began tearing through the two ruined rooms. A large bed, a dressing table, a small bed... He even pried open a hidden drawer in the dressing table, only to find its contents long since charred into a shapeless, blackened lump. None of these could be the anchor of the black flood dragon's existence. Yet the place was only so large, and there were only so many items. Could his reasoning be flawed? Sweat dripped from Sun Fuping's brow. Time was of the essence. The Venerable One was straining with all his might out there to battle the Dafang Pot's monster alone. If Sun Fuping could not swiftly find the treasure to turn the tables, then to say nothing of his grand future ambitions, even his own life might not be spared. Sun Fuping circled the residence three times. Perhaps blinded by anxiety, it was only after completing his third circuit that he spun around and rushed back into the main room. The bed standing here had been burned down to a rickety frame, and only half of the wall remained, blackened by smoke. However, upon that half-standing wall was an ash-colored silhouette. The original color of the wall. It looked as though something had once hung there, shielding that patch of plaster from the flames when the fire broke out and preventing it from being blackened by soot. This shape... Sun Fuping muttered to himself, "A saber. I remember a saber hung here." Indeed. This was where Zhong Shengguang had lived before becoming Commander. Sun Fuping had been here before, and it was here that he had found the grave of the Baling expedition members. Furthermore, while waiting for Nian Songyu earlier, Sun Fuping had explored this residence thoroughly and had some impression of its furnishings. In truth, the furniture in this official residence had been so sparse—just those few simple pieces—that it was hard not to remember. The wall was still here, the bed was still here, yet the saber hanging on the wall was gone. The post-disaster condition of the wall proved that the saber had existed from start to finish, matching the Venerable One's description of something "the great blaze could not destroy." So his deduction had not been wrong—someone had taken it! Sun Fuping rose to his feet and ground out a name between clenched teeth, wishing he could rip the very syllables to shreds: "He Lingchuan, you wretched little bastard!" The ever-composed and dignified National Preceptor Sun finally could not stop himself from cursing out loud. When the four of them had reached this place, they had held a long discussion before splitting up. Prior to that, the only one besides himself who had the time to inspect the entire residence was He Lingchuan.