Chapter 279 — Warm a Pot of Wine

Shen Mu threw a punch—boom—the river trembled, and water dragons glowing with azure light reared up and roared, surging out dozens of zhang to engulf Ban Gongcuo. In an instant, the river was roaring chaos; forty-five great dragons flew from that single punch, merged with the water, and plunged all together at Ban Gongcuo, boom after boom without pause.

Shen Mu soared, interlaced his fingers, palms turned skyward, and abruptly pulled downward; bolts of lightning lit the river, gathered into a single bundle, and crackled into the very center of the forty-five great dragons!

As Shen Mu descended, the sword core in his hand had already turned into countless sword lights—Sword Treading Mountains and Rivers!

The sword light became vast mountains and rivers, falling from heaven into the water; its sweeping might broke apart countless river water, and in one instant more than ten zhang of water in every direction was cut into countless droplets, forming a landscape within the water!

A blossom of blood surfaced and fled diagonally toward the riverbed at speed. Shen Mu raised a hand; the Chubao Sword at his waist clanged out, Shen Mu's forefinger circled, the Chubao Sword spun madly, and countless sword qi around it formed a Drilling Sword stance, tearing through the water and shooting straight into the riverbed after that trail of blood.

His robes fluttered as he drifted lightly down, feet on the rolling surface; the sound of water came rushing behind him—waves thrown up by his running steps had hung in midair and now were only just falling, like flying jade and spilled pearls. On the river, Shen Mu shifted his footing, and the water around his feet changed at once: the current revolved around him, and beneath the surface, as if translucent flood dragons wove in and out around him, they formed precisely a great circle.

Whish—the Chubao Sword burst out of the river, circled once in the air, still spinning furiously, but spinning slower and slower, until it stopped just as it reached Shen Mu. The scabbard at his waist turned into a fish-dragon, flew out, opened its great mouth and swallowed the sword, then became a scabbard once more and returned to his waist.

Shen Mu's face was as calm as always. He stood silently, and the sword core flew from his hand, hovering before him like a slightly larger drop of water.

Around him, line after line of water rose slowly, gathering above his head like rain flowing backward; the river water that rose into the air turned to cloud vapor, forming a cloud that covered a dozen zhang in every direction. Lightning flashed and thunder crackled in the cloud; the light came and went, vaguely revealing a scale here, a claw there.

"Ban Gongcuo, you have disappointed me.

" Shen Mu's quiet voice reached across the river. "Is the cultivation of your nineteen previous lives really no more than this?

Why do you not dare to come out?

I am still waiting to kill you and go back to my meal—the food is getting cold. " There was no stir on the river.

Shen Mu frowned, turned, and walked back toward the shore. He returned by the same route; all around, startled faces craned to look at him, and the eyes of the strollers followed his movement.

Shen Mu looked through them, picked up the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone he had thrown down, then went to the iron hammer, seized its handle, and suddenly swung it, slamming it into the ground. With a boom, the air before him was pounded into a wall, and then the wall of air was smashed apart as well.

When the hammer struck the ground, the earth sank and split, and from the depths came a tremor—a figure was fleeing at speed!

Shen Mu darted like a bird and in the next instant was before the bamboo staff; he slapped down with his palm, and with a thud the staff sank into the earth. A jet of blood sprayed out of the small hole the staff had left.

Shen Mu bounded, rose and fell in a few leaps before the two butcher knives; in a head-down, feet-up posture, he seized both hilts and spun the blades, and swish, swish, swish—innumerable arcs of knife light cut into the earth.

He spun and moved forward, blade light falling like rain, like a waterfall, slashing into the ground. Suddenly he spread his legs, slapped the ground with the backs of the blades, and launched himself skyward; then he landed steadily, thrust both knives into the pouches on his back, turned, and entered the capital.

Before long he arrived at the Jade Fragrance Pavilion, entered the Green Bamboo Garden, went around two bends, passed the statue of the South Sea Guanyin, and reached the private room. The two great shamans were still there; when they saw him, shock filled their faces.

Shen Mu asked, "Is the food still warm?

" One of the shamans stared blankly at him; the other hastily nodded.

"And the wine? " Shen Mu asked.

"The wine has gone a little cold.

" Shen Mu waved a hand.

"You warm it and bring it up.

And you—stay here and pour my wine. "