Chapter 422 — A Pack of Old Coots

"Shen'er, you are not to go this time, when we move to block the High Heavens," Granny Zhu said in a low voice.

Shen Mu was hastening the refining of spirit pills to feed the flood dragons—he would be traveling far this time and needed a good stock of them. Hearing this, he paused, then smiled: "Granny, it was I who invited them. How could I not go? " Granny Zhu shook her head.

"You are only at the Six Harmonies realm. If you don't go, no one will talk. In this battle, the High Heavens will likely turn out in full force—there are not only the Four Lords of the High Heavens up there, but other gods as well. . .

If we are defeated, you go back to the Wilderness Ruins, and don't come out again for the rest of your life. " Shen Mu's face fell.

He was about to speak when the village chief's voice suddenly came from afar: "Old woman Si, leave him be. Let him come along!

" Granny Zhu caught sight of the village chief laughing and chatting merrily with a crowd of old men and women, and her anger flared.

"Shen'er's cultivation is still low. It's useless for him to go!

" "How is it useless?

" The village chief looked back and grinned.

"Someone has to go and collect the corpses, don't they, Granny? " Granny Zhu was briefly at a loss, and said no more. Someone had to collect the corpses—whether of enemies or of their own. From afar came the ha-ha laughter of a crowd of old men and women.

The village chief was talking freely with his old friends, and Tuxing Feng was recounting their embarrassing escapades of years past, setting them all roaring, until the old men and women were flushed red with mirth. There were so many stories between them, so many brushes with death in those years, so many battles fought shoulder to shoulder—there was always much worth remembering. But after the village chief was crippled, his great ambition had withered. He became an old cripple in the Village of Hidden Wrecks, one whom neither thunder nor rain could drive away. The Human Sovereign vanished from the world, and his old comrades lost heart as well, no longer appearing among men, no longer visiting one another. And now the village chief had returned, and they had come at his invitation. Though they were old, the reunion of old friends seemed to carry them back to those years of burning passion.

Shen Mu watched them. These happy old folk each had their own temperament; some were not cheerful men by nature—the Hermit of Qingyou, for instance, looked at everyone as though they owed him money—yet now their faces were wreathed in smiles. Each of them held a position of immense eminence.

Some were chieftains of subterranean races, some lofty immortals, some great monsters who received the worship of mortals in temples, and some who carried their people on their backs, roaming the seas in perfect freedom. People who could not be more unrelated had been drawn together by a single Seal of the Human Sovereign. The village chief was radiant with vigor. "Let the blood in your hearts burn!

Let us relive the years gone by, and together go and turn the world upside down! " The Hermit of Qingyou laughed until tears streamed down his face. "Burn, my ass! Your lifespan runs out next year, doesn't it?

Can you still burn?

" "Do immortals of the Little Jade Capital talk dirty too? Go on, try cursing inside the Little Jade Capital if you dare!

Qingyou, you don't have many years left to burn either—soon you'll be finished, same as me! " The pack of old fellows roared with laughter, stamping their feet.

Immortal Liu laughed until his eyes were slits, and gasping for breath he said, "Remember the old days? The moment a fight was mentioned, little Qingzi ran the fastest—not running to fight, but running to hide! " "You weren't any better than me.

You always curled up and rolled yourself into a ball! " The old fellows burst out laughing again, each exposing the other's old shame. "Little Qingzi even had a crush on Fairy Xueqi—the way he chased her back then was something else! " "Yes, yes, I remember that.

This fellow's hide was thick as anything!

Pah! " "That day Fairy Xueqi fell in battle, little Qingzi wept like a man made of tears.

" But at these words no one laughed.

Suddenly the Hermit of Qingyou burst into loud wailing, and Tuxing Feng, who had made the mood so dreadfully awkward, scratched his tangled hair and sighed abruptly: "I'm thinking of Daoist Lu Feng.

He and I were the closest of friends. He died for me—he blocked the killing blow meant for me. . . " The crowd fell silent.

After a moment, the old fellows were laughing and talking again, and the awkwardness just past had vanished into thin air. Shen Mu shook his head and set the Flood Dragon Riding Art in motion.

One after another, the flood dragons' bodies shifted, transforming into colossal creatures several li long, and the crowd climbed onto the backs of the dragons. The estate stood empty. They rode the dragons toward the Wilderness Ruins.

On dragonback, the Butcher tossed over one wine jar after another; these mighty ones of the older generation clutched the jars and drank deep, laughter rising from time to time.

The Butcher raised his jar high and roared with laughter: "When we meet, we must drink three hundred cups! " On another dragon's back, the Lame Old Man was weeping noisily. "I'm no bold hero like the rest of you. I'm just a petty thief who does things small.

What am I doing playing the hero alongside you lot? " The Old Tathagata looked at Old Master Huo and said softly, "The Great Thunderclap Temple still needs you. Go back.

I am enough here. " Old Master Huo said calmly, "You are a Tathagata, and so am I.

You know my heart. " The Old Tathagata paused, then said, "And if neither of us returns?

What of the Great Thunderclap Temple? What of the Buddha's Dharma?

" Old Master Huo pressed his palms together, and twenty noble aspects appeared on his face: "I will fail neither the Dharma nor you. " The Old Tathagata understood his heart at once.

"Excellent. Whether a Tathagata is present or not, the Dharma is there. It does not exist because of a Tathagata, nor does it perish because of one. If one sees through it, one is a Tathagata; if one does not, one is a false monk.

" Shen Mu was on the same dragon as the village chief and the others. He kept glancing at the village chief, and at last could not hold back: "Chief, has your Divine Bridge been repaired? " A faint smile appeared on the village chief's deeply furrowed old face.

"How could it be so easy? Repairing the Divine Bridge comes in three steps, and each is desperately hard. The first is the Magpie Bridge Art, the second the Mystic Guidance Art, the third the Divine Crossing Art. I have cultivated to the Mystic Guidance Art now, which is already considered fast. Qingyou, is your Divine Bridge mended? " The Hermit of Qingyou shook his head.

"Still on the Mystic Guidance Art.

" The village chief, beaming with mischief, teased him: "This time, blocking the High Heavens, you might die! " The Hermit of Qingyou cursed in anger.

"You old bastard who won't die—always jinxing me!

" The village chief laughed heartily. "That old rascal Patriarch Mingmo is still on his way here!

" The crowd burst out laughing again, merry as could be.

The sun sank in the west, and the day grew late.

The High Heavens. An obscure, halting sound came from above the altar. It was the divine tongue, its cadence rising and falling, unlike any sound a human throat could make. Star Lord Qiao, Lord Hua, and Star Lord Yan listened with the utmost reverence. When the divine tongue fell silent, the three Lords each stepped back a few paces, bowed low, and said in unison: "We obey the divine decree.

" All was calm upon the altar.

Below it, the three Lords wore grave expressions and said nothing. After a moment, Star Lord Yan could not help himself: "Must we truly do this? If we do, I fear few in the whole Jingping Kingdom will survive. .

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