Chapter 283 — Stirring Wind and Waves

The Si clan of the Holy Cult had once been a family of towering magnitude. "Si" was the character in "yousi," meaning to oversee and govern, and the Si clan had existed since the very founding of the Nether Demon Cult, charged with managing its calendar, its succession, its treasury, and its propagation. Because the Si clan was so vital, the Saintess of the Nether Demon Cult was in most eras chosen from its ranks; the Saintess was the head of the clan, and in a sense the clan's importance outweighed even that of the Cult Leader and the Holy Teacher. Before it was Granny Zhu; after her, Si Yunxiang.

Long Jiaonan naturally knew Si Yunxiang's worth. To have captured in a single stroke the Sixth Princess of Jingping, the Cult Leader of the Nether Demon Cult, and the Saintess — she could not help feeling a flicker of pride. But she remained cautious. She untied the Taotie pouch from Shen Mu's waist, took the yuan weapons from Ling Yuxiu, and then ran her hands over Si Yunxiang.

Si Yunxiang giggled. "Sister Long, don't grope me. I carry no yuan weapons — I walk the path of spellcraft."

Long Jiaonan gave a cold laugh and plucked the hairpin from her hair. "Spellcraft? I'd say you're a sword expert! This hairpin is no small weapon!"

The Beast-Slaughtering Blade and the iron hammer on Shen Mu's back were also taken out, and even the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone hidden in his sleeves were turned out. Long Jiaonan glanced at them, saw that they were ordinary writing things, not yuan weapons, and stuffed them back.

Long Jiaonan whistled, and the little red snake slithered through the clothes of all three captives, searching for more yuan weapons. She was a hardened old hand of the jianghu who left Shen Mu and the others no chance to turn the tables.

More crucially, this time Shen Mu had not brought the Dragon Qilin when he accompanied the two women out. The Dragon Qilin was at this very moment still asleep in the City Lord's mansion!

"Let's go."

Long Jiaonan, clad in women's dress, was enchantingly lovely. Taking Shen Mu's arm with a demure, almost shy expression, she said, "My ship is waiting by the shore for the Cult Leader, the Saintess, and the Princess. By the time the Crown Prince comes to his senses, the three of you will already be in the Eastern Sea."

Shen Mu smiled. "Sister Long, how very thoughtful of you."

Long Jiaonan gave a whistle. The little red snake slithered over to Shen Mu, hung from his left ear, and flicked its forked tongue. She laughed softly. "However sweet your tongue may be, you'll never slip out of my palm. Don't you dare try any tricks — one nip from Little Red and you're a dead man."

The three women and one man walked out of the market. Just then, Shen Wanyun approached with scholars such as Wei Yong and Yue Qinghong. The two parties came face to face. Long Jiaonan put on a smile and said in a low voice, "Act natural. Don't force me to kill the Cult Leader and all of you right here."

Shen Wanyun stopped, glanced at the three women, and said, "Cult Leader, this young lady is quite a stranger to me. May I ask who she is?"

Shen Mu said, "An old acquaintance. Out for a stroll in the market?"

Shen Wanyun said helplessly, "I had no wish to come, but Fat Wei and Qinghong insisted, saying we should see something of the local customs of this overseas land." So saying, he led his party into the market.

Long Jiaonan likewise led Shen Mu and the others toward the harbor.

In the market, Shen Wanyun's face darkened, and he said rapidly, "The Cult Leader has run into danger!" Wei Yong, Yue Qinghong, and the others were startled, not understanding what he meant. Shen Wanyun said in a low voice, "The weapons on the Cult Leader are gone. Usually he carries them on his back, but now they're nowhere to be seen. And Junior Sister Si's hairpin, and the Princess's yuan weapons — all vanished without a trace. That woman is definitely up to something... You go and inform the Crown Prince. I'll follow them!"

Knowing the seriousness of the matter, Wei Yong and the others hurried back to the City Lord's mansion, while Shen Wanyun left the market at once, thinking to himself: "That woman looks somewhat familiar. I seem to have seen her before. Who can she be..."

Long Jiaonan led Shen Mu and the other two to the harbor and boarded a towered ship. "Cast off!" she ordered.

The towered ship at once made for the Eastern Sea. Behind them, Shen Wanyun left markers along the way, then plunged into the sea and raced across the face of the waters, tailing the vessel. The ship was far from slow, but he ran like the wind, keeping pace with ease.

"Young Mistress, there's someone behind us," a man on the ship said in a low voice.

Long Jiaonan went to the stern and saw Shen Wanyun treading the waves. She was taken aback for a moment. "Just an Imperial Academy scholar. Does he think he can do battle with the Dragon King at sea?"

She set her whistle going, its melody strange and uncanny. Before long, one slimy sea serpent after another appeared beneath the surface — each more than a hundred feet long — darting toward Shen Wanyun.

Shock ran through Shen Wanyun's heart. Flying swords shot out from the sword pouch on his back and hewed down the serpents as they surged in. The stretch of sea around him churned like a boiling pot; countless serpents like flood dragons burst out of the water and attacked him in a frenzy. Kill as he might, they would not be finished!

By the time Shen Wanyun cut his way out of the serpent encirclement, the towered ship was nowhere in sight. He rose into the air, hovered, and scanned in every direction. The sea stretched green and boundless for ten thousand li, yet he could not find where the ship had gone.

"Damn it!" Shen Wanyun's face was grave.

On the towered ship, Long Jiaonan did not restrict Shen Mu and the others, letting them roam as they pleased. The vessel sailed farther and farther into the deep sea.

Shen Mu looked up. The sky was high, the horizon distant, the sea profound. Out here there was no way of leaving a trace of one's passing.

With keen interest, he spread out paper at the prow and took up his brush to paint. Long Jiaonan craned her neck to look. What Shen Mu had painted was the sea — monstrous waves, black clouds swallowing everything, a towered ship threading through wind and waves, and beyond the ship, lightning splitting the darkness, illuminating the vessel. The painting had a strange power, as if one were standing inside it.

"I'd never have known, Cult Leader Shen, that you had such skill with a brush." Long Jiaonan praised him. "If you went to the capital to sell paintings, you could win yourself a name as a dashing man of letters."

Beside them, a boatman with a demon-head saber on his shoulder sauntered up, swung the blade in a lazy arc at Shen Mu's neck, and chuckled. "A pity this Nether Demon Cult Leader is about to die, and he still has the mood to scrawl ghost talismans."

Long Jiaonan said coldly, "Ghost Three, until my father orders his death, he is a guest invited by our Dragon-Riding Gate. Show some respect!"

Ling Yuxiu's eyes brightened. She drew near to watch Shen Mu's painting, and covertly shot a glance at Si Yunxiang.

As if not quite satisfied with the picture, Shen Mu set it aside and painted another. It was the same wind and rain, thunder and towering seas — but this one had no ship. Long Jiaonan had been watching with relish, but seeing him paint the same scene over and over with nothing new, she lost interest and let Little Red keep hanging from Shen Mu's ear.

Shen Mu painted a dozen or so storm-on-the-sea scenes, then raised his brush as if to polish and revise. The moment his first stroke fell, the whole painting seemed to change. The thunder and gale within it seemed about to fly out of the paper.

Shen Mu gave each finished painting one final stroke, then casually tossed them off the towered ship one by one.

Long Jiaonan watched and privately thought what a pity.