Chapter Fifty-Four: The Sea Dragon Binds the Venomous Dragon

High above in the sky, He Yongde's lips curled into a sly smile. With a calm demeanor, he slowly brought his hands together. In the next instant, the black surge of water that had been rushing toward him, mere inches away, abruptly froze, unable to move another inch.

Qian Zhouliang felt a sudden, overwhelming pressure; no matter how he strained his energies, he could not advance. The pallor on his aged face twisted into terror, for only now did he truly sense the intangible force pressing down on him—not just from the water encircling him, but from the unsettling suspicions gnawing at his heart. Yet Qian Zhouliang was never one to wait passively for death; he repeatedly summoned his strength, attempting to surge forward, but it was as if he had fallen into a sphere, unable to escape no matter how he struggled.

He Yongde watched, his hands closing in further, causing the space between them to shrink significantly. Correspondingly, the massive water sphere suspended above the dock plaza shrank as well.

A piercing scream suddenly echoed from the plaza below. Everyone turned toward the source and saw the now much-diminished water sphere, tinged with red, hovering in the air. The sight sent chills through their hearts—even Wang Yongping felt a hint of pressure.

Inside the sphere, Qian Zhouliang’s body was bleeding from the force, his wrinkled, bloodshot eyes desperate as he struggled in vain against the crushing power. No matter how fiercely he fought, the water sphere remained unmoved. "Father..." Qian Jiashun cried out, his voice breaking as he witnessed his father's agony.

The brothers Chen Yuxuan and Chen Yulei exchanged glances, both smiling.

He Yongde listened to the father and son’s anguish, his resolve hardening. At last, his palms pressed together as one.

The scream that followed was even more harrowing than before. He Yongde, hearing it, finally released his clasped hands and gently patted them in front of him before standing with his arms behind his back, gazing downward.

With a thunderous crack, the tiny water sphere exploded in mid-air above the dock plaza. Unexpectedly, the water that burst forth nearly flooded the entire plaza.

The seawater cascaded across the plaza, streaming outward. Whether drawn by some unseen force or simply flowing to lower ground, the scattered water converged toward the South Sea. Everyone hovered in mid-air, silently watching the water as it flowed, searching for any sign of Qian Zhouliang. As the water receded, a small red spot appeared at the center of the plaza. When the water drained further, the red spot remained, its bloody hue sending chills down their spines.

It was nothing other than blood.

"Father..." Qian Jiashun cried, his voice heavy with tears, rushing toward the crimson spot, unable to find words.

The red spot was indeed Qian Zhouliang—his once gaunt frame now shriveled into a mass, as if every bone had been broken and his body forcibly contorted.

After witnessing this, everyone felt their hearts race, casting wary glances at the ever-gracious He Yongde, who now seemed to wear the mask of a smiling demon.

"Father..." Qian Jiashun called out again, trembling as he crouched and gently lifted the red spot—Qian Zhouliang—from the ground. Only when he had fully raised him did Qian Zhouliang’s form begin to resemble a man, though he could no longer stand on his own, his entire body drenched in blood, a figure of pure crimson.

Qian Jiashun raised a hand, slowly and gently wiping away the blood streaming down his father’s withered face, revealing a visage even paler and more aged than before.

"Father…" Seeing his father’s ghostly pallor, Qian Jiashun’s cries grew even more plaintive.

“My son, from now on, the Qian family will depend on you…” Against all expectation, Qian Zhouliang, whose life hung by a thread, spoke in a faint, weak voice.

Qian Jiashun, overjoyed and anxious, replied quickly, “Father, please don’t speak! Hold on!”

Qian Zhouliang shook his head weakly, and in the next moment, his fierce eyes snapped open. A black aura burst forth from his body, startling Qian Jiashun, who nearly dropped his father. But before he could react, Qian Zhouliang himself shot forward, heading straight for He Yongde.

“Father…” Qian Jiashun cried out desperately.

Everyone present watched in astonishment, then shook their heads.

He Yongde frowned, feeling the weakness in his own body deepen, yet he summoned the last of his strength.

But just as he was about to strike, the black light that was Qian Zhouliang suddenly veered away, darting rapidly toward the South Sea.

“Father…” Qian Jiashun, witnessing this, broke into a broad smile and hurried after him.

Those present cursed inwardly, calling him an old fox—though they remembered that was his usual moniker and let it go.

He Yongde finally relaxed, letting himself drift down from the sky. As he landed, his legs faltered and he nearly collapsed, saved only by a pair of arms that caught him. Turning, he saw He Anjian, and leaned his frail body against his broad chest, murmuring weakly, “Father…”

He Anjian held him without speaking.

“Brother Yongde, how are you?” The brothers Chen Yuxuan and Chen Yulei hurried over, their voices anxious as they saw He Yongde’s exhaustion.

He Yongde managed a weak smile and waved his hand. “It’s nothing.”

But as soon as he finished speaking, he coughed heavily, instinctively covering his mouth with his hand.

He Anjian and the Chen brothers were startled by the sight.

After a long moment, He Yongde lowered his hand, turning his palm upward before his eyes. There, a cluster of black blood stained his palm, shocking the three men.

He Yongde shook his head with a smile. “It’s nothing. After so many years without practicing cultivation, it’s only natural to be weak.”

Seeing he wasn’t joking, the three finally relaxed.

But just as they did, a powerful presence surged from behind. Turning, they saw Wang Yongping.

He Anjian shouted angrily, “Wang Yongping, are you still looking for trouble?”

Wang Yongping’s gaze was dark as he looked at the weakened He Yongde, frowning deeply as if pondering something.

Just then, Wang Weixue called from the side. “Let’s go, old ghost, there’s important business to attend to.”

Wang Yongping’s frown deepened. He glanced again at He Yongde’s frail state, then snorted, swept his sleeve, and turned away, leaving only a single remark: “I have never taken advantage of the weak, but remember, I have never feared anyone. This debt will be settled someday.”

Wang Weixue laughed, “Oh, come off it, I think you’re just scared.”

Wang Yongping, accustomed to his teasing, ignored him and strode toward the South Sea.

Wang Weixue turned back and smiled at He Yongde. “Thank you, Master He, for opening my eyes tonight.”

He Yongde replied warmly, “You flatter me, Brother Wang.”

Wang Weixue had no further words, saluted with a clasped fist, and followed Wang Yongping.

…

Meanwhile, on the surface of the South Sea, Qian Zhouliang stood, assessing his condition with a gloomy expression. Suddenly, as if struck by inspiration, he pulled a golden jade pendant from his pouch, narrowed his eyes, and murmured,

“I have no choice but to gamble—this is the only option left…”