Chapter 85: First Destroy Lu Mountain, Then Annihilate The Tang Clan
Lu Yun considerately pulled the handbrake and called out to everyone: “Everyone go in first. The car is parked crookedly; I’ll adjust it.”
“This is a true Confucian Cultivator.” Ling Xun couldn’t help but sigh.
Jiang Ce was stunned, only then remembering that he had never asked what path Lu Yun followed.
But it didn’t matter; from now on he was one. Confucian Cultivators had no normal people, except for himself, Wei Lao, and Lu Yun.
But Jiang Ce couldn’t help feeling that Lu Yun’s temper was really too good. Back then, even when he humiliated Liang Zhi Zhou in his face, he could endure it. Sure enough, there were big differences between people.
But just as everyone was preparing to go in first, Ku Zhen reminded: “There are other cultivators inside: one First Rank, two Third Ranks, and several below Sixth Rank. There’s not a single ordinary person in the whole room. We’re no longer in the gatekeeper’s jurisdiction; be extra careful out here.”
Xuan Qing also closed his eyes for a brief probe before saying: “Judging from their energy, they should be from Lu Mountain Sect.”
“Lu Mountain Sect?” Liang Zhi Che asked strangely: “This isn’t Lu Mountain Sect territory, right?”
“Probably here for this year’s Daoist Grand Ceremony. Celestial Master’s Mansion is less than a day’s drive away; it’s reasonable to run into them.”
Qin Shen Bo knew a lot about the cultivation world and thus speculated.
Jiang Ce had never heard Wei Lao mention anything about a Daoist Grand Ceremony, but he was quite familiar with Lu Mountain Sect’s reputation.
Of course, it was mainly because of Xiao Lin, which made him hold a grudge against Lu Mountain Sect. So when he saw Lu Mountain Sect on the list of targets to win over or rob, he decided to properly torment these zealots when the time came.
He hadn’t expected to run into them here ahead of time.
Jiang Ce suddenly had a mischievous idea, but for safety’s sake, he still asked Xuan Qing: “What’s our relationship with Lu Mountain Sect?”
Xuan Qing replied without thinking: “It used to be average, live and let live. But after Xiao Lin joined the gatekeepers, Lu Mountain Sect repeatedly caused us trouble. After Wei Lao personally went to their sect leader once, they toned it down a bit, but the minor misunderstandings never stopped. It’s just that Cao Gong considered Xiao Lin’s some lingering ties with them; otherwise, Wei Lao would have taught them a lesson long ago.”
Jiang Ce thought for a moment and understood: Lu Mountain Sect was one of the ones to be robbed.
Then there was no problem.
Jiang Ce lowered his head and pulled out some pre-prepared masks from his shoulder bag, distributing them to everyone and having them put them on.
“This is…” Ku Zhen hesitated, unsure what Jiang Ce was planning, but looking back, he saw Xuan Qing had already put his on.
Xuan Qing “hmph”ed: “Didn’t Wei Lao tell you? Listen to Jiang Ce. I’ve put mine on. What, are you more precious?”
Ku Zhen had no choice but to put on the mask printed with “Chrysanthemum.”
“I want yours.” Lou Leshan snatched Jiang Ce’s “Red Dragon” and put it on, feeling invincible.
Jiang Ce didn’t mind and handed “Spring” to Lu Yun before putting on “One of the Bamboo Suits” himself.
The masks were exquisitely made; the eye parts were a layer of gauze mesh, visible from inside out but not from outside in.
Jiang Ce: “In a bit, everyone follow my eye signals.”
Everyone: “.”
In the two-story building of the farmhouse restaurant, several people in Daoist robes were yelling at the waiter.
“Nine of us, and you give us eight pancakes? What do you mean?” The young man in the brown robe was bossy.
Daring to open a shop in this remote wilderness, the boss was naturally no ordinary person. Yin energy was heavy nearby, and cultivators often came to slay demons and exorcise evils for merit. His little shop specialized in serving these cultivators.
The things he sold were all food nurtured by the boss using Daoist cultivation methods, which replenished consumption better than ordinary meals for cultivators, so it was well-known in the surrounding area.
However, they had no temper against these brown-robed Daoist Cultivators.
Because they were from Lu Mountain Sect, a sect full of zealots who didn’t care who you were and would fight at the drop of a hat.
Before evil cultivators and gluttonous ghosts appeared, they weren’t even recognized by the righteous sects.
The waiter nervously wiped the fine sweat beads from his forehead: “Please wait a moment; I’ll go to the back kitchen right now to divide them properly and bring them out.”
But the young man in the brown robe wouldn’t let it go: “Looking down on who? Nine people, eight pancakes—unless you chop them up to divide, how can you divide clearly? Can you still eat that? Call your boss!”
The waiter was on the verge of tears. The menu clearly stated one plate of pancakes served eight portions; they didn’t say anything when ordering, but complained now—wasn’t that just bullying?
His own boss was only Eighth Rank, the other waiters at most Ninth Rank, and he himself hadn’t even entered the ranks. If these big shots got angry and wrecked the shop, who could he reason with?
At that moment, the shop door was pushed open, and a group of people wearing mahjong tile masks filed in.
One of the Bamboo Suits, Red Dragon, Spring Summer Autumn Winter, Bamboo, Chrysanthemum—a total of eight people.
The leader was the one wearing the One of the Bamboo Suits mask. His voice was very young but extremely frivolous, not sounding like a good person.
“So much anger over one pancake? Is it worth it? I say, forget dividing. Let that old man—yes, you—eat all eight pancakes himself. Once he’s full first, it leads to everyone full, and we’re all full, right?”
The One of the Bamboo Suits’s words were full of mockery, seemingly regarding the old man in the center as a rice bucket.
The young man reacted and stood up to berate these uninvited guests, but was stopped by the old man: “So many people, and I didn’t sense them at all. Looks like you deliberately hid your auras. Those who come are not friendly.”
“That’s right!” One of the Bamboo Suits laughed heartily: “Now guess who we are?”
Another middle-aged man said coldly: “Not daring to show true faces—don’t know which rats came from where.”
One of the Bamboo Suits spread his hands and said loudly: “First annihilate Lu Mountain, then exterminate Tang Sect. Only our Holy Cult, dominating the martial world!”
“Holy Cult?!”
The old man’s gaze sharpened, pupils dilating: “Gluttonous ghosts!”
He had been uneasy from the start. From the moment this group entered, he had secretly tried to probe their details but found nothing.
He naturally didn’t know that with Xuan Qing and Ku Zhen simultaneously concealing, even a Heaven-Reaching Dharma Master at Five Energies Returning to Origin couldn’t see through.
Unsure of the opponents’ details, the old man gave a look, and the middle-aged man who had spoken earlier stood up to probe with an attack.
But his proud Talisman Art hadn’t even reached One of the Bamboo Suits before dropping like a kite with cut strings.
One of the Bamboo Suits ignored the middle-aged man’s shock, tilted his head, and eyed the packages in the corner.
“Heading to Celestial Master’s Mansion for the Daoist Grand Ceremony?” One of the Bamboo Suits waved at them: “Leave the stuff, and you can go.”
The old man hadn’t even seen how his junior brother’s talisman was downed, but he already understood: the opponent’s strength was far above his own. Shocked in his heart, he forced calm and said: “Do you know who we are?”
One of the Bamboo Suits sneered disdainfully: “Just stinking fish and rotten shrimp. If we didn’t need you to carry a message, do you think you’d leave alive? What impudence, dogs relying on masters’ power? Go back and tell your sect leader: the Holy Cult’s chief Saint Disciple will pay a visit soon!”
