Chapter 51: He Yongde

At this moment, the dock square was enveloped in a long, unbroken silence. No one dared move; all strained to listen closely to the soft, measured footsteps approaching. Tap, tap, tap... The sound echoed in every heart, growing clearer and heavier with each step, approaching from afar.

Were it not for the remarkable rhythm of those footsteps, none would have listened so intently. Yet they realized the pace was so precise, it must be the result of breath control refined to the smallest detail—such mastery could only belong to someone of great ability. Curiosity rippled through the crowd: perhaps this person was a true cultivator, and with luck, they might one day discuss the Way together.

At last, with another step, all eyes turned toward Beihai City’s side of the dock square. Now, they could finally discern the source of the sound. Under the crowd’s watchful gaze, the silhouette gradually came into focus: first, a vague figure, then the outline of a scholar’s blue robe, and finally, the arrival of a familiar face—a Confucian scholar in azure, an old acquaintance.

Everyone at the dock square stared in astonishment at the scholar in blue.

A moment later, He Anjian was the first to recover. His voice rang out, anxious and exasperated: “Yongde, what are you doing here? Leave at once!”

He Yongde merely smiled at He Anjian’s agitation, which only made He Anjian even more furious, yet left him at a loss for words.

The others, recognizing He Yongde, frowned. Was this elegant, frail scholar the one responsible for the extraordinary aura they sensed?

Qian Jiashun, who had just suffered a beating at the hands of Chen Yulei, looked at the bookish, unarmed He Yongde and found his own frustration dissipate. Still covered in dust, Qian Jiashun sneered at the immaculate blue-robed scholar: “Well, well! Isn’t this our esteemed Mister He? What brings you here today? Come to watch us rough men brawl for your amusement?”

He Yongde, unfazed by Qian Jiashun’s biting words, replied earnestly with a gentle smile, “My father is here—how could a son not be concerned?”

At this, He Anjian did not know whether to laugh or to cry.

“Hahaha!” Qian Zhouliang burst into laughter when he heard this, then scoffed, “Blind filial piety! You’ve clearly read yourself into stupidity.”

He Yongde merely smiled and let it pass.

Wang Weixue watched the solemn He Yongde, more bewildered with every glance. The longer he observed, the more he sensed an extraordinary grace about the man. Given He Yongde’s notable position in Nanhai, Wang Weixue had met him before, and knew something of how this once-promising prodigy was reduced to a frail scholar.

Wang Yongping, impatient, barked, “Qian Zhouliang, Liao Hailong, hurry up and finish off Chen Yuxuan!”

Qian Zhouliang and Liao Hailong needed no prompting; they were already moving to attack, as was Chen Yuxuan.

At that moment, He Yongde took a few more steps forward. No one paid him any mind—except Wang Weixue, whose unease only grew as he watched. There was something indefinable about He Yongde’s presence.

A sudden gust of wind swept the square; the winter sea breeze howled in bursts, but the cold was nothing to these cultivators from Beihai City. They had long grown accustomed to such weather.

Still, Wang Weixue kept his gaze fixed on He Yongde, unmoved even as Chen Yulei went to aid Chen Yuxuan.

Wang Yongping, annoyed, called out, “Old Ghost, what are you doing?”

Wang Weixue ignored him, leaving Wang Yongping frustrated.

The next instant, the wind intensified, accompanied by a piercing peal of thunder.

This time, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked around the square, their eyes settling on the still-approaching He Yongde, surprise and confusion written on every face. The dock square was now a place of storm and thunder: the fierce sea wind whipped their robes, thunder roared in their ears, and lightning from the horizon flashed, illuminating the entire square.

At last, all eyes, shocked and bewildered, turned to He Yongde.

“Heavenly Thunder.”

Without pausing, hands clasped behind his back, He Yongde continued forward. His lips moved, and he uttered two simple words.

At first, no one understood. But in the next moment, the scene that unfolded left everyone speechless. The wind and thunder in the sky intensified, and then, before their very eyes, a bolt of lightning, dazzling and swift, struck straight at Wang Yongping. The thunderbolt fell with such speed that Wang Yongping, caught off guard, had no time to defend himself properly—he could only react instinctively, hastily throwing up a defense.

Dust billowed where he stood, and his figure was obscured from view.

Wang Weixue, witnessing this, did not rush to Wang Yongping’s aid. The attack was too sudden for that—and besides, he knew Wang Yongping would survive. Squinting, filled with astonishment he did not show, he muttered, “Sacred Word—Obliteration Divine Art!”

He didn’t need to say more; everyone present had already guessed. Not because they were all so knowledgeable, but because the words “Sacred Word—Obliteration Divine Art” were household terms among the human race. Every cultivator knew of it, and many even knew the basics of its cultivation method.

This art, also known as the “Sacred Thought—Obliteration Divine Art,” was said to grant the Sage such freedom that a single thought could bend heaven and earth to his will. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but it still spoke to the Sage’s immense power. The reason the art was so well known was that its cultivation method was recorded in the Sage’s magnum opus, the Classic of the Way. Before his passing, legend held, the Sage instructed the entire Dao Palace that the Classic of the Way should be freely available to all humankind, never to be withheld or destroyed. The Dao Palace had faithfully honored these words through the generations.

Thus, the Classic could be found anywhere among the human race—even in the most obscure of roadside stalls. Yet, no one dared look down upon it, no matter how humble the setting.

Indeed, traders had exploited this fact, making even the most unremarkable markets among the human race harmonious and orderly.

However, there was one iron rule: the Classic of the Way was never to be shared with those of other races. If this was violated, the Dao Palace would pursue the offender relentlessly.

Though the Classic was widespread, those who truly understood its mysteries were exceedingly rare, and only the Sage himself had ever achieved true freedom of thought and action as described in its pages.

Little wonder, then, that the crowd was so amazed to see He Yongde display the Sacred Word—Obliteration Divine Art.

Chen Yuxuan’s eyes shone with excitement at the sight.

As the dust slowly settled where the thunderbolt had struck, Wang Yongping’s figure gradually emerged. When at last he could be seen clearly, those present could not help but laugh inwardly. Most stifled their amusement, hiding their smiles.

Only one man showed no restraint.

“Hahaha!” Wang Weixue suddenly clutched his belly and burst into laughter, tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. Pointing at Wang Yongping, he cried, “Old Ghost, this is just like you! You’re making my sides ache with laughter, hahaha...”

He doubled over with laughter, pointing at Wang Yongping, nearly rolling on the ground.

For faced with Wang Yongping’s current appearance, he truly could not help himself.