The Path of the Martial Arts BOSS
Chapter 330 - 142: Peace 2

Chapter 330: Chapter 142: Peace 2

On a chilly spring morning in the Divine Capital, the cold was biting enough to kill the young.

Qing Yu, dressed as a scholar, casually ordered a few pork buns from a breakfast stall by the roadside. He sat at a nearby table, savoring the buns while sipping soy milk.

"Brother, may I join your table?" A polite voice asked shortly after he sat down.

"Go ahead," Qing Yu smiled at the newcomer as he responded.

The person sat down with a basket of steamed dumplings, picked one up with his chopsticks, and sent a message telepathically: "I’ve informed Mr. Ouyang. Meng De has discovered traces of the Cangsheng Sect from the Western Regions, seemingly plotting something insidious. He has already gone to track their whereabouts."

Throughout his speech, the man didn’t glance sideways, as if not talking to Qing Yu at all. But judging by his appearance, was this not Feng Jiu?

Qing Yu nodded silently to indicate he understood.

"The situation has recently become urgent. The Academy is watching closely, and I am now very conspicuous. For the coming period, it’s inconvenient to make contact," Feng Jiu continued to communicate covertly.

"I can see that, at least three pairs of eyes are on you, the first student from the Mountain River Academy to achieve a breakthrough in the Divine Origin Realm," Qing Yu replied quietly through telepathy, not giving anything away visually.

Though still eating his buns without any apparent distraction, his Power of Thought had long enveloped the surroundings, allowing him to instantly perceive any lingering gazes.

"Hmm? Someone’s coming over," Qing Yu sent the message.

Without specifying who, Feng Jiu understood that this person must be the same one whose gaze had lingered on him earlier.

Just then, Feng Jiu finished his last dumpling, stood up with a smile as he bade farewell to Qing Yu, and turned to leave.

The approaching man, however, didn’t continue to follow Feng Jiu but likewise ordered a basket of dumplings and joined Qing Yu’s table, "Young man, don’t mind sharing your table, right?"

With an overly familiar tone and without waiting for Qing Yu to respond, the man took the seat previously occupied by Feng Jiu.

Turning his head, Qing Yu scrutinized the only person who had stayed behind, while the other two had already followed Feng Jiu. This person’s skin was slightly dark, clad in a gray robe, holding a peeling scabbard of a long sword, dressed like a freewheeling, worldly person. Recently, the Divine Capital had many of such figures, all here to watch the struggle between the Esoteric Sect and the Great Zen Temple, curious if the Central Plains Buddhism, which had long been dominated by the Zen Sect, would find itself with a new opening.

To Qing Yu, these people were foolish. This upcoming grand assembly on water and land wasn’t a competition; spectators wouldn’t get hurt. The imminent struggle between Zen and Esoteric sects was certain to draw Divinity Realm warriors into combat. Even the aftermath would be unbearable for others.

Qing Yu himself didn’t think he had the strength to be a spectator at the grand assembly, and naturally, these worldly people were even less qualified. When the residual waves swept through, these individuals would be nothing more than corpses strewn across the ground.

In contrast to these foolish worldly people, the eminent officials and nobles in the Divine Capital had been tipped off early. Those related to the officials and nobles also knew what was coming—rather than a peaceful ritual for placating the spirits as intended, it would be a great battle harvesting lives. Days before, they had left the Divine Capital under various pretenses, such as enjoying the spring or visiting relatives, to avoid the upcoming struggle between Zen and Esoteric Buddhism.

Wait a minute...

Qing Yu realized he had underestimated this seemingly down-and-out worldly person. The man had actually reached the Divine Origin Realm, which was quite rare among loose cultivators. Considering his age to be around thirty and possessing a cultivation of the Divine Origin Realm, he must have encountered a significant opportunity or was disguised as a wandering cultivator.

"Young man, that person just now was Feng Jiu from the Mountain River Academy, right?" The unknown swordsman asked playfully.

"Oh, that’s right. I haven’t yet asked your esteemed name. My surname is Ping, ranked second in my family, so you can call me Ping Er," Ping Er said with a ceremonial cupped-hand salute, pretending to be formal.

It was clear this man had a carefree nature, not fond of formality and etiquette, but upon seeing Qing Yu in scholarly attire, he saluted as a form of courtesy.

However, as laid-back as he was, Qing Yu had no interest in pretending to be an unrestrained wild youth. The Divine Capital was flooded with people of all sorts, and while the Divine Origin Realm Martial Artists were rare, they were not unheard of. Qing Yu had no intention of determining whether Ping Er was a true loose cultivator or posing as one. After all, the Divine Capital had no shortage of various individuals.

Many were watching Feng Jiu, but Qing Yu had no desire to investigate each one.

At that moment, Qing Yu feigned disdain as he swallowed the last bit of his bun and prepared to leave. Ping Er’s attire provided Qing Yu with the perfect excuse—if he were dressed as a scholar as well, it would have been improper to leave so abruptly.

"Hey, hey, young man, don’t go..." As Ping Er spoke, he reached out to stay Qing Yu’s departure, only to be deftly avoided by a quick sidestep.

The motion from both parties caused a slight shift in their expressions, as if something had been discovered.

Still, neither planned to voice this discovery directly. Seeing that the other genuinely wished not to engage, Ping Er did not continue to obstruct and allowed Qing Yu to leave.

And Qing Yu, with an air of disdain and arrogance, left with a sweep of his sleeve.

"Master," Ping Er muttered to himself, watching Qing Yu’s receding figure.

Moreover, a master whose strength might even surpass his own—for Ping Er had not noticed the true power hidden within the seemingly ordinary scholar before.

At the same time, the departing Qing Yu felt the gaze fixed on his back dissipate and thought to himself, ’Japanese.’

Qing Yu was certain that Ping Er was Japanese. Although every move he made was integrated into the customs of the Central Plains people, including a flawless Central Plains accent, Qing Yu hadn’t initially noticed Ping Er’s true identity.

But it was his hands that rendered his disguise futile.

The so-called Sword Dao of Japan and the Martial Arts of the Central Plains had significant differences. The defining feature of using a Japanese katana is that the base of the thumb and the second joint of the forefinger will develop calluses due to the force exerted during a strike.

Moreover, most samurai from Japan practiced Iaido Slash, and those who train long-term in that discipline develop strange coordination in their arms, with powerful lower arms and softer upper arms.

The characteristics on Ping Er’s hands gave away his carefully concealed Japanese identity, clarifying why the Daqian Court had searched the world for so long with so few captures.

If all the Japanese infiltrators in the Central Plains were like Ping Er, it’s no wonder they were so hard to catch. To anyone but themselves, these individuals would not give the first impression of being Japanese.

If Qing Yu hadn’t been minutely observant, he might not have seen through Ping Er’s disguise.

’Unexpectedly, the Japanese who have been hiding for nearly a year are also making a move. It seems that this grand assembly will indeed be quite lively.’

Feeling the gaze on his back vanish, Qing Yu mused to himself.

This grand assembly on water and land might prove to be more lively than anyone could imagine.

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