Chapter 679: Duke of Thunder Zhou as if Struck by Lightning

A desolate mountain, a ruined temple... It was a dream of the past.

The Daoist, robed in Daoist attire and leaning on a bamboo staff the color of green jade, walked slowly along the street.

The street was quite wide. It could not compare to the Heavenly Street in the middle of Changjing that split the capital into east and west, but aside from that grand avenue that showcased the majesty of the dynasty and the face of the imperial capital, it would be hard to find another street in all of Great Yan as broad as this one. And yet, in this strange city, such a street could only be called ordinary.

The Daoist walked at an unhurried pace, looking about as he went. He looked at every blade of grass and tree by the roadside, every brick and pillar, every house and building, each passerby, all the strange sights coming and going, though all had sprung from his own memory, from his own hand.

Still, even for the one who painted them, to see with his own eyes scenes he had once etched so deeply into memory and longing could not help but stir him greatly. Thus he walked onward, past the broad street, into narrow alleys.

Through the alley, he came to the riverside. This was a river that ran through the heart of the city.

The scenery along its banks was exceptional: broad and clean roads, dense groves of trees, and meadows of lush green grass. In the woods stood ancient-style pavilions and towers, while beside the river rose skyscrapers straight into the sky. It was at once like a carefully designed landscape garden and an extremely prosperous city of soaring buildings.

There was a plank walkway along the riverbank, firm underfoot but not muddy. The Daoist followed the river for a while until he came to an arched bridge, where he stopped.

Leaning on the railing, he took in the riverside cityscape.

All around him was filled with familiar memories. He stood there, lost in recollection and perhaps also waiting for someone.

Suddenly, the sky gave a tremendous roar.

Boom!

It was as though the sound came from beyond this world, yet also as if it had exploded right three feet above his head.

Boom!

Another deafening crash.

Above the city, a vast bolt of lightning appeared, branching in countless directions, filling nearly half the sky and making even the daylight-blanketed city gleam a blinding white.

In that instant, divine light from thunder and lightning flashed, and a figure appeared without warning.

The newcomer’s form was tall and robust, his face stern and righteous, even looking a little hard to approach. Clad in black, he was still wreathed in lightning and divine radiance when he first arrived, but in the space of a few breaths, it all faded away, revealing his true self.

It was none other than Duke of Thunder Zhou, chief officer of the Thunder Division.

Duke of Thunder Zhou landed on the other end of the arched bridge. As soon as his feet touched the ground, his gaze fell upon the Daoist leaning on the railing in the distance. His eyes narrowed slightly, but only for a moment, before sweeping his surroundings.

What a strange world.

Duke of Thunder Zhou had a pair of sharp, discerning eyes that could pierce through demons and evil spirits, and distinguish right from wrong. His gaze swept over all things nearby in an instant.

“Hm?”

This Thunder God, whose fame in Great Yan was now at its height, whose incense offerings were abundant, frowned. Doubt and vigilance filled his heart at once.

The Daoist before him turned around, his gaze calm.

“Duke of Thunder, it’s been a long time.” His tone was equally calm, like greeting an old friend.

It was as if he had not been surprised by Duke of Thunder Zhou’s arrival at all.

“What is this place?” Duke of Thunder Zhou asked with furrowed brows, still guarded.

“Duke of Thunder, you come uninvited into my dream, and upon arriving, you ask what this place is, don’t you find that a little odd?” the Daoist replied.

“I know this is your dream! You knew I would come? You deliberately waited here for me?” Duke of Thunder Zhou fixed him with a steady stare. Behind the Daoist, pavilions and riverside groves coexisted, while colossal towers in the distance seemed to pierce into the clouds. Compared to them, even the Thunder God appeared small. “What hidden trick lies here?”

“I admire your character and regard you as an old friend, so I came here especially to greet an old friend, nothing more.”

“If you already knew I would come here, then you must also know why I’ve come. Why bother with such words?”

“Why are you so wary?”

“Knowing your abilities, of course I’m wary!”

“Duke of Thunder, your incense offerings among the mortal realm are already abundant, your divine power already strong. You excel at subduing demons and eliminating evil, at delivering Heaven’s punishments. And now, with the Celestial Emperor’s divine authority and incense blessings upon you, and with the Dream God secretly assisting you, my dream has already become your home turf. Duke of Thunder should have a sure victory in hand,” the Daoist replied, still calm and unhurried. “Besides, at this moment we are merely old friends chatting.”

“Enough useless talk.”

Duke of Thunder Zhou fixed his gaze on him, unwilling to waste time. In a deep voice, he said, “I know your abilities, and I know your character. Now, by the Celestial Emperor’s summons, I’ve come to oppose you. I’ll ask you just once, what is your true aim in all this? If you can answer in one sentence that it is only to restore the path to heaven and forbid gods without virtue from entering Heaven, I will have no objection, and will leave immediately!”

“And if I lie to you, Duke of Thunder?”

“If you can deceive me, I’ll leave all the same!”

Duke of Thunder Zhou’s voice was firm, his gaze razor-sharp. There was the confidence of one who believed no falsehood could escape his eyes, and yet also a faint suggestion of,

even if you lie, I will still leave

.

“...”

The Daoist smiled, but gave no answer. Instead, he turned, leaning on his bamboo staff, and started down from the bridge. His voice drifted back, “Since you are an old friend, then walk with me. There’s no trap.”

“Hm?”

Duke of Thunder Zhou’s eyes went wide with sudden anger.

That single glare could have frightened countless demons in the mortal realm to death.

Yet the Daoist paid it no mind, simply leaning on his staff, strolling leisurely down from the bridgehead, slowly moving away.

“...”

Duke of Thunder Zhou glanced around, brows deeply furrowed, eyes flickering with thought. The hammer in his hand he gripped, then released. The Daoist ahead of him only drew farther away.

A moment later, he followed.

“I will see what trick you’re playing!”

Duke of Thunder Zhou’s face was solemn, his stride long and forceful. Every movement carried the weight of authority.

But he did not let down his guard. As he walked, he kept watch both on this strange and peculiar world, and on the Daoist’s every action and expression.

The Daoist walked very slowly, looking around as he went. Now and then he paused at a street corner, or turned to gaze into the distance, his eyes tinged with emotion, a faint sense of wistfulness showing, like one looking upon a long-unseen old friend or familiar place. Then, in his gaze, there would be a trace of recollection.

Duke of Thunder Zhou’s brows knitted tighter and tighter.

This was without doubt a world he had never seen before.

There were familiar elements here, such as the riverside pavilions with red wooden pillars, green-tiled eaves, and carved railings; and the faces of people walking the streets. But more than that were the strange elements: broad and spotless roads; paving stones beneath his feet; some unknown underlayer beneath the roadway; the things shuttling to and fro along the streets; the odd buildings and shops lining either side of the road, all at least several zhang tall; unfamiliar lights; towering skyscrapers...

It was like a false world.

As if the Daoist had known he would come, and specially prepared this dreamscape, this place where his spear would break.

Duke of Thunder Zhou opened his mouth, about to speak, then closed it again.

Creak...

Two youths, a boy and a girl looking to be in their mid-teens, passed in front of him wearing strange clothes, riding a frame of metal hoops with two wheels bound within that rolled forward.

Duke of Thunder Zhou’s eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s. Lowering his gaze slightly, he immediately focused on their feet, watching as they stepped on pedals, turning a wheel, which drove a precisely linked chain, which in turn rotated the gear on the rear wheel, propelling this strange vehicle forward.

“...”

In a sudden motion, Duke of Thunder Zhou turned his head.

In his eyes, the distance across the street seemed to close instantly.

On the opposite side stood a beautiful woman, with delicate makeup and wearing strange clothes. Her outfit had no buttons; she simply lowered her head and adjusted it slightly with her hands, then grasped a small object and pulled upward from near her waist to the neckline.

The two rows of tiny teeth on the garment interlocked smoothly and precisely under the work of a small, clever metal device.

The little teeth made a faint but distinct sound, and even across the street, his keen senses caught it perfectly.

Duke of Thunder Zhou’s eyes gradually widened.

The Daoist still walked slowly ahead, leaning on his green-jade bamboo staff, never looking back, never speaking a word to him.

This world was clearly a dream he had deliberately woven, yet his skill in this particular Dao was clearly not profound. It was like a place of illusion pre-programmed to run along a set path, everyone within carried on with their own reasonable actions, but paid no mind at all to the suddenly intruding Daoist and Duke of Thunder Zhou, treating them as though invisible.

Yet everything they did was perfectly reasonable.

“...”

Following at the Daoist’s side, Duke of Thunder Zhou saw many people riding strange little carriages pass by. Together with the Daoist, he walked past a transparent crystal wall, behind which goods were displayed in dazzling abundance.

Together, they stopped before a snack shop, watching the shopkeeper inside prepare foods he had never seen before, using methods that were odd yet made perfect sense, and all the aromas wafting from the known ingredients were correct, real, and logical.

None of this escaped his eyes.

The Daoist often stopped at intersections. There were lights there, and only when the light turned green would he proceed; everyone else, and every vehicle shuttling along the road, behaved the same way. It was a brand-new world, and he had to keep to the right while walking.

Duke of Thunder Zhou grew increasingly unsettled.

There was no doubt this was an illusory world, and he was inside the Daoist’s dream. Duke of Thunder Zhou could clearly sense that he was within it; if he wished, he could leave at once, or shatter this phantom realm the Daoist had crafted.

And yet... it was such a real world.

Every new and unfamiliar thing, so long as he could understand its workings, was bizarre and novel, but entirely reasonable.

Duke of Thunder Zhou had once been a famed constable, later becoming a god. In the two centuries since ascending, he had subdued demons, eliminated monsters, and faced countless enemies, rising gradually from weakness to great strength. He already possessed sharp eyes, and had seen illusions and phantasms conjured by countless demons and spirits—some more vivid and realistic than this, some more bizarre and fantastical than this—but never one that was both so utterly strange and so utterly real at the same time.

How could anyone weave such a falsehood?

Duke of Thunder Zhou’s unease deepened, his shock mounting.

The Daoist passed by a schoolhouse and entered.

At the doorway stood people in strange uniforms, like guards, yet they neither saw them nor barred their way.

The Daoist crossed a broad courtyard where many children were either playing or performing some neat and peculiar movements. He then approached the main building, climbed the stairs, and stopped before the window of a second-floor classroom near the stairwell, standing still to observe the scene inside.

Many children were flipping through books.

The Daoist stared inside, unmoving.

But what Duke of Thunder Zhou saw differed. A child rose to close the window, which did not swing outward but slid along a fixed track, and with a twist of the hand,

click

, it locked into place.

An elderly female teacher was writing on a pitch-black wall using a white stick.

In the children’s books were black-printed text and colored images.

“...”

The Daoist turned away and left.

Duke of Thunder Zhou followed him out.

Not far from the schoolhouse stood a large, round building, exquisitely constructed, its lower walls transparent, appearing like mirrors from a distance, but up close revealed to be glazed glass.

Duke of Thunder Zhou walked past its front with the Daoist and saw that inside it was filled with shelves upon shelves of books. People came and went freely, able to read right there on the spot, with no one disturbing them or charging any fee.

Only... Most of the books bore no titles, their covers entirely blank. Only a very few were exceptions.

Duke of Thunder Zhou’s brows furrowed again.

And only after furrowing them did he realize, shouldn’t he be frowning if

all

the books had titles and content? Why was it that, upon finding a flaw, he frowned instead?

Duke of Thunder Zhou steadied his mind, intending to confront the Daoist—finally, this illusion had a weakness. But when the words reached his lips, they came out as, “Why are so many of these books blank?”

This was the first thing he had said to the Daoist after silently following and observing him for so long.

For the first time, the Daoist also turned, looking back at him with a broad smile.

“Because I’ve never read them.”

“...”

Duke of Thunder Zhou felt as if struck by lightning.