41: Chapter 41 True Dragon Treasure Technique

Chu Zhanxiao's consciousness was like something forcibly hauled up from the bottom of an abyssal chasm by a brutal force.

Pain.

This was not the pain of the Physical Body—it was the pain of the Divine Soul being torn apart, burned, and repeatedly pierced by countless red-hot steel needles.

It was as if an invisible hand had reached into his chest, grabbed his already cold heart, and squeezed it viciously.

Only when this agonizing pain tearing at his Divine Soul slowly receded like a retreating tide did he gasp in a breath of air mixed with the scent of blood; his lungs burned, as if he were learning to breathe for the first time.

His whole body was trembling.

Every inch of muscle and every bone retained the aftershocks of the force that had brutally washed over them—like the lingering tremors of the earth after thunder had passed through.

He lowered his head, his vision blurred, yet he stared fixedly at his own hands—

Those hands, with clearly defined knuckles and slightly protruding veins.

Under the skin, faint, intricate golden Dragon scale phantoms were slowly emerging and flickering, like a totem that had slept for ten thousand years, awakening in the darkness.

Each flicker was accompanied by a scorching pulsation originating from the depths of his Bloodline, like an ancient bell tolling, striking his Soul, beat by beat.

This was no hallucination.

It was the Foundation he had lost and regained.

Power.

A kind of majestic, wild, and untamable power was surging and roaring within him, like an ancient river thawing.

They rushed through his dried-up Meridians, smashing through the clogged bottlenecks, unstoppable and overwhelming.

Each surge brought a heavy, drum-like pounding to his heart—thump, thump, thump—vibrating his eardrums until they hummed, and causing his eyes to sting.

The stinging quickly turned into a scalding heat, pooling in the corners of his eyes.

He blinked.

His vision was shrouded in a layer of mist.

Behind that mist was the ecstasy of regaining what was lost, an ecstasy that nearly suffocated him.

But hotter than this ecstasy was something else—a heavy, grounded sense of confidence, carrying the scent of rust and blood.

It was as if an exile, having trekked through an endless eternal night and been gnawed by despair until only a gaunt skeleton remained, had suddenly seen the dawn tearing through the darkness on the horizon at the moment of death.

This light was not gentle; it was even blinding enough to make one want to shed tears, yet it carried the power to ignite everything, instantly filling his empty, cold chest and setting his blood boiling.

"Revered Master—!"

His throat choked up.

All his overwhelmingly complex emotions—ecstasy, gratitude, awe, and determination—ultimately distilled into these two words, heavy as a thousand jun.

No longer able to suppress them, his knees gave way, and with a "thump," he knelt heavily on the ground, using all his strength to slam his forehead against the cold floor.

"Thump—"

The dull sound of impact was exceptionally clear in the silent pavilion, carrying a piety and determination akin to a sacrifice.

It was as if only through this physical pain could he imprint the tumultuous gratitude in his heart onto this small space, carve it deep into his bone marrow, and etch it into the Reincarnation of his eternal lives.

"This grace and this favor... Disciple Chu Zhanxiao will never forget them for all eternity! Even if my Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, I dare not forget!"

His voice was hoarse, carrying an unconcealable choke, echoing layer upon layer in the empty pavilion.

Every word was like blood and tears squeezed from the depths of his lungs, congealing with an unshakeable firmness and the resolve of a last stand.

"Get up."

Chu Changsheng's voice was calm and waveless, revealing little emotion.

He merely raised his hand casually, offering a faint, supportive gesture.

A gentle yet irresistible force, like an invisible tide, softly but firmly lifted Chu Zhanxiao up.

This power was just right—it both honored his etiquette and severed his thought of continuing to kowtow, like a spring breeze passing by, impossible to refuse.

"Helping you is because I see that your True Dragon Dao Body still has some potential worth refining."

Chu Changsheng's gaze fell upon Chu Zhanxiao; his eyes were deep as an abyss, as if they could pierce through the skin to look directly at his Bloodline Origin, and gaze upon the myriad possibilities of his fate.

"And not because I wanted to hear you kowtow."

He paused.

A faint glimmer of expectation flashed in his eyes—a glimmer powerful enough to ignite a wilderness—this was the hidden fire in the eyes of a swordsmith examining a newly formed sword embryo.

Immediately after, he brought his right index and middle fingers together and casually flicked them into the air—

"Swish—swish—"

Two streams of light, like fragments of stars falling from the Nine Heavens, carrying a soft and ancient halo, traced mysterious trajectories and, perfectly aligned, quietly hovered before Chu Zhanxiao.

They were two Jade Slips—one had a faint Dragon shape coiled around it, its Aura vast and tyrannical, as if an ancient Dragon roar were faintly emanating from within; the other was simple and reserved, yet seemed to contain a primordial power capable of opening heaven and earth, calm as an abyss, unfathomable.

"True Dragon Precious Technique."

"Primordial Ancestral Dragon Art."

Chu Zhanxiao almost held his breath, extended his slightly trembling hand, which still retained the phantoms of Dragon scales, and grasped the two Jade Slips.

They felt warm and smooth to the touch, like warm jade.

The next moment—

"Boom—!"

Two torrential streams of majestic and pure information, like wandering Dragons that had found their nest, surged up along the Meridians of his arm, brutally yet gently crashing into his Sea of Consciousness!

Countless profound and obscure runes, patterns, breathing rhythms, force-exerting methods, Dragon-shaped combat techniques... vast and mighty, overwhelming, instantly filled every corner of his mind.

This was not a simple transmission of memory, but more like the awakening of an Origin, a resonance of his Bloodline—as if these ancient Legacies had been sleeping in his blood, waiting for thousands upon thousands of years, just for this moment of summoning.

Chu Zhanxiao's eyes suddenly widened.

In the depths of his pupils, countless wandering golden Dragon patterns were reflected, flickering incessantly, as if stars were being born and dying.

Ecstasy.

A near-trembling ecstasy exploded from his spine all the way to the top of his head!

This Cultivation Technique, this Divine Ability, fit perfectly with the newly born True Dragon power within him, as if they had originally been born from this Bloodline, and at this moment, they had simply—come home.

All the seemingly complex and difficult bottlenecks, in his current perception, had a clarity as if they had naturally fallen into place, like a lost person finally seeing the lantern light of the path home.

"Disciple... will definitely not fail Revered Master's trust! I will definitely not let this True Dragon Dao Body be tarnished!"

He gripped the Jade Slips tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

His voice, however, was exceptionally steady, like a piece of cold iron finally unsheathed after being tempered a thousand times, carrying the determination to cut off all future retreats, and the sharpness of rising from the dead.

Chu Changsheng nodded almost imperceptibly.

His gaze, however, seemed to pierce through the Disciple before him and land on the void within his own Sea of Consciousness.

There, a simple, ancient longsword quietly hovered, its blade faintly entwined with Dragon-shaped phantoms, emitting low hums—it was the nine heavens dragon roar sword.

On the other side, a drop of pure white essence blood, revealing a chilling murderous intent, pulsated slowly like a heart; with every contraction and expansion, it overflowed with a sharpness that could split the Divine Soul—White Tiger Essence Blood.

A thought that could be called insane, yet made his Dao Heart tremble slightly, quietly sprouted and lingered, refusing to leave.

"First, take three days to polish the Foundations of these two Legacies until they are harmonious."

Chu Changsheng withdrew his gaze, his tone returning to indifference.

He turned around and walked with steady, heavy steps toward the lattice window overlooking the Imperial Dynasty capital.

"Three days later, I have other arrangements."

He stood by the window.

Outside the window, the once prosperous and orderly capital was now in chaos, like a pot of boiling porridge.

The terrifying Dragon shadow phenomenon that had previously shrouded heaven and earth brought not only visual impact but also fear of the unknown.

On the long streets, crowds ran in panic, like a startled ant colony; carriages overturned, goods scattered everywhere; the crying of children, the screams of women and children, the roars of men, the suspicious discussions of Cultivators... all sorts of sounds mixed together, forming a clamorous tide full of panic and confusion, constantly striking at the Foundation of order of this ancient Imperial Dynasty capital.

"For now," Chu Changsheng withdrew his gaze, his tone without ripples, "I must first find you a place for secluded Cultivation where you will not be disturbed."

Before his voice had faded, he flicked his finger.

A dark Talisman shot out from his fingertip, growing as it met the wind, turning into a stream of light barely visible to the naked eye, instantly piercing through the window lattice and disappearing into the chaotic Qi intertwined above the capital.

"Pack up and follow me."

There were no more words.

Chu Changsheng pushed open the exquisite carved wooden window, his figure moved slightly, and like a wisp of light smoke blending into the shadows, or like black lightning cleaving through the clamor, he leaped out of the tall building.

His sleeves rustled in the wind, like a war flag waving.

Chu Zhanxiao did not hesitate, securely tucking the two Jade Slips close to his body.

At his feet, the Thunder Cloud Beast, which had shrunk to the size of a small leopard and was wreathed in tiny electric sparks, let out a low roar and turned into a silver bolt of lightning, following closely behind.

"Revered Master, where are we going?"

Traveling between the densely packed roof ridges and eaves, the wind whistled in his ears, and the chaotic human voices below became blurred and distant.

Chu Zhanxiao couldn't help but ask in a low voice.

"A place where you can Cultivate with peace of mind, where no one dares to disturb you."

Chu Changsheng's answer came with the wind, without turning his head.

The two moved at extreme speed, leaving faint afterimages among the intricate streets and buildings of the capital.

They avoided the main thoroughfares still crowded with people, bypassed the market areas frequently visited by Cultivators, and specifically chose to weave through quiet alleys and the backyards of wealthy households—like two swimming fish, moving silently through the gaps in the sea of people.

About an incense stick's time later, the view suddenly opened up.

A quiet and wide street appeared before them.

At the end of the street, a mansion covering a vast area with a towering gate stood quietly.

The vermilion-lacquered gate was a full zhang high, the gilded beast-head door knockers gleaming with a dull light under the sunset, and two stone lions stood majestically before the gate, signifying the owner's status as either wealthy or noble.

At this moment, in front of that huge mansion gate, a fat figure was stretching his neck, waiting expectantly.

The golden glow of the sunset fell upon him, illuminating his extravagantly beautiful brocade robe with iridescent colors—high-quality cloud-patterned brocade, embroidered with intricate auspicious patterns using real gold thread, refracting dazzling light as he moved restlessly.

Around his waist was a jade belt, inlaid in the center with a massive tourmaline comparable to a pigeon egg, faintly shimmering with five-colored halos, exuding an imposing air of nobility.

Yet, due to his spherical figure, it also appeared somewhat comically bloated.

This fat man had very small eyes, but they were exceptionally agile.

When the figures of Chu Changsheng and the other two appeared at the corner of the street, his small eyes suddenly burst with an astonishing brightness.

A smile, incredibly warm and even fawning, piled up on his face at a speed visible to the naked eye, as if he had seen the most precious Treasure Trove in the world.

He hurried forward with a small trot—yes, a "trot," though his posture appeared somewhat wobbly due to his obesity, with every step causing his rolls of fat to tremble.

Before he even reached them, that shrill, slick voice, as if coated in honey, drifted through the air: "Oh my! My Honorable Guest! You have finally arrived! This humble one has been waiting here early, eyes straining with anticipation, truly straining with anticipation!"

He reached them and, without hesitation, bowed deeply.

His round belly made the movement quite difficult, yet he performed it with extreme naturalness, his posture so humble that he almost pressed his wealthy, fleshy face against his knees.

Chu Changsheng stopped and calmly observed the man before him—Qian Wanguan.

Within the Imperial Dynasty capital of Great Wu, his name might not be the most famous, but he was a wealthy merchant whose connections and influence were undeniably top-tier.

His businesses spanned taverns, auction houses, intelligence outposts, and even certain grey areas; he was truly a man who navigated both the underworld and the legitimate world, with connections reaching the heavens.

The communication Talisman Chu Changsheng had sent earlier was addressed to this man.

Qian Wanguan was a smart person, and even more so a "merchant" who knew how to read the situation.

He was well aware of the terrifying nature and value of this mysterious "Honorable Guest," so upon receiving the message, how could he dare to be even the slightest bit negligent?

"Boss Qian, long time no see. You still look as vibrant as ever."

Chu Changsheng spoke calmly, nodding slightly.

"You flatter me! You flatter me too much!" Qian Wanguan waved his hands repeatedly, the smile on his face wrinkling so much it could crush a mosquito.

"For you to remember this humble one is a blessing accumulated by my ancestors over generations! Please, come inside, please!"

As he bowed and led the way, his nimble eyes darted quickly and covertly between Chu Zhanxiao and the Thunder Cloud Beast.

Especially when he saw the extraordinary Aura faintly lingering on Chu Zhanxiao, and the Thunder Cloud Beast, which remained divine despite its shrunken size, the look of inquiry and astonishment in his eyes deepened—but it was immediately covered up by an even more exaggerated smile, like a tide submerging a reef.

"This is my Disciple, Chu Zhanxiao.

This is the Thunder Cloud Beast, my mount Spirit Beast."

Chu Changsheng introduced them casually, his tone ordinary yet possessing an inherent majesty that needed no emphasis.

"Boss Qian, is this the temporary dwelling you found?"

"Indeed! Indeed!" Upon hearing this, Qian Wanguan immediately puffed out his thick chest, patting it with a thudding sound like a muffled drum.

"Rest assured, Honorable Guest! This residence is the quietest and safest place in my possession!

I dare not say it is impenetrable, but I have set up quite a few Formations; ordinary scoundrels would never dare approach."

"Especially the 'Quiet Bamboo Garden' separated in the back garden—it is self-contained, with its own independent Formation protection.

Ordinarily, apart from the mute servants who clean at scheduled times, there is absolutely no disturbance from outsiders."

"All daily necessities will be arranged by my most reliable hands to be delivered through the side gate, ensuring that neither you nor this... er, talented Disciple's secluded cultivation will be disturbed!"

He introduced it with spit flying, his tone full of absolute confidence, as if he were promoting a peerless treasure.

"You have put in the effort."

After listening, Chu Changsheng only said these three words.

Immediately, he flipped his wrist, and a seemingly ordinary dark grey storage ring drifted toward Qian Wanguan.

Qian Wanguan hurriedly reached out with both hands, accepting it almost reverently.

He probed inside with his Divine Sense—even though he was accustomed to mountains of gold and silver, and rare treasures, at this moment, he could not help but shrink his pupils slightly, his breathing becoming a bit rapid.

Inside the storage ring space, the pile of Top-Grade Spirit Stones, emitting pure Spiritual Qi and brilliant light, was enough to blind his eyes!

Such generosity...

The smile on his face instantly became even brighter and more sincere, and his waist bent even lower: "Honorable Guest, you are too polite!

To be able to render this small service for you is this humble one's greatest honor!

Speaking of this is being too distant, too distant!

Quickly, please, come in, this humble one will personally lead the way for you!"

Chu Changsheng said no more and stepped inside.

Chu Zhanxiao followed closely behind, while the Thunder Cloud Beast followed at the end with elegant and vigilant steps.

Passing through the magnificent gate, it was as if they had entered another world.

The faint clamor of the outside market was completely isolated.

What met their eyes was a winding white marble corridor.

The pillars were carved with exquisite immortal birds, strange beasts, and Spiritual Plants, all lifelike, as if they would leap out from the wood and stone the very next moment.

Outside the corridor was a meticulously tended landscape garden—strange peaks and rocks were exquisite and translucent, the pond's blue waves rippled, and a few rare Spirit Fish swam leisurely.

There was also a refreshing fragrance coming from those exotic flowers and plants whose names even Chu Zhanxiao could not identify.

They were skillfully arranged beside the rockery and the water pavilion, and clearly, every single one was worth a fortune.

The corridor connected various pavilions and towers with flying eaves and carved beams.

While not so gaudy as to be vulgar, every brick, tile, piece of wood, and stone exuded an understated luxury and deep heritage—that was the Aura precipitated by both time and wealth.

Qian Wanguan accompanied them, cautiously observing Chu Changsheng's expression.

Seeing that the other party remained calm, he felt a bit more at ease and made every effort to introduce the scenery within the estate, occasionally cracking jokes to try and liven up the atmosphere.

However, Chu Changsheng mostly just listened calmly, and occasionally a single "Mm" from him would make Qian Wanguan flattered and overwhelmed, as if he had received a great reward.

The group passed through several courtyards.

The further they went, the more secluded the environment became, and human presence grew increasingly sparse.

Finally, they stopped in front of a moon gate.

The gate was built of ordinary bluestone, and the door was left ajar.

Compared to the magnificence of other parts of the estate, it appeared exceptionally simple, even somewhat inconspicuous—as if it were a forgotten boundary, separating two worlds.

"Honorable Guest, this is the place.

Inside is the 'Quiet Bamboo Garden'.

This humble one will not go in, so as not to disturb your peace.

Everything needed is ready within the garden.

If there are any needs, just pull the green bell rope in the courtyard, and reliable people will be at your disposal."

Qian Wanguan stopped at the gate and bowed, his posture as respectful as a devout statue.

Chu Changsheng nodded and pushed open the ajar moon gate.

Behind the gate, it was as if it were truly another world.

What rushed toward them first was a refreshing coolness, along with a faint, fresh scent mixed with soil and plants—that was the fragrance unique to a bamboo forest after the rain, clean enough to seemingly cleanse the lungs and spirit.

What came into view was bamboo.

Boundless, slender, and upright emerald bamboo.

They grew densely, forming a thick bamboo forest.

A path paved with bluestone slabs wound its way into the depths of the bamboo forest, its Origin unknown, its end unseen.

It was now evening, and the afterglow of the setting sun spilled through the gaps in the bamboo leaves, casting mottled, fragmented, and dancing light and shadows on the ground and stone slabs—like spilled flowing gold dust, or perhaps fragments of time itself.

The wind passed through the bamboo forest.

In an instant—rustle, rustle, rustle—swish, swish—the sound was initially fragmented, like spring silkworms eating leaves, soft and dense.

Gradually, it merged into one, turning into a soothing and continuous sound of waves, gently enveloping one's hearing, layer after layer, untiringly.

The friction of the bamboo leaves and the slight swaying of the bamboo stalks intertwined, sounding like celestial music.

In an instant, it washed away all the clamor and troubles of the outside world, as if there had never been any strife in this world, only this rustling bamboo sound, echoing from ancient times to the present.

Following the path for several dozen steps, the bamboo forest suddenly opened up.

A secluded little courtyard appeared before them.

The courtyard was not large, but it was extremely elegant.

The ground was paved with whole slabs of bluestone, polished smooth and warm by time and wind and rain, with fuzzy moss growing in the gaps, adding a sense of quiet solitude.

In the center of the courtyard was a small pond with living water, the water clear to the bottom, where a few red carp swam leisurely, occasionally flicking their tails to stir up ripples.

By the pond, a small and ancient stone pavilion stood quietly.

Inside the pavilion were a stone table and stone stools, and on the table was even a set of elegant celadon tea ware, as if the owner had only temporarily left and would return at any moment to brew tea and listen to the bamboo.

The courtyard was surrounded by bamboo on three sides.

The other side was a row of three refined chambers—white walls and grey tiles, with doors and windows all made of top-quality Nanmu wood, simple yet extraordinary.

At this moment, the doors and windows of the refined chambers were open, and one could see the neat bed, meditation cushion, desk inside, and even a small Alchemy quiet room.

All the utensils and items seemed ordinary, but with Chu Zhanxiao's discernment, he could tell they were all extraordinary—especially the Spirit gathering Formation; although inconspicuous, it was carved with extreme precision, clearly having taken much effort.

The entire Quiet Bamboo Garden was tranquil, secluded, full of natural vitality, and cut off from the world.

Standing in the courtyard, one could only hear the rustling sound of wind blowing through bamboo leaves, the light sound of fish flicking their tails in the pond, and one's own gradually calming breathing and heartbeat.

The flow of time here seemed to have slowed down—not literally slow, but the kind of slowness that made one willingly slow down.

The air was fresh and carried a sweet taste; with every breath, it felt as if one could exhale the turbid Qi and distracting thoughts from the lungs, leaving only clarity and peace.

"This place is quite good."

Chu Changsheng finally spoke, his voice sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet courtyard, yet not abrupt, as if it were meant to blend into the sound of the bamboo.

He looked at Chu Zhanxiao: "For the next three days, you will go into closed-door cultivation here and meditate.

The Thunder Cloud Beast will be your Protector."

Chu Zhanxiao took a deep breath.

The fresh, cool air went straight into his lungs, allowing his mind, which had been agitated by today's drastic changes, to gradually settle—like a stone thrown into a deep pool, eventually sinking to the bottom and returning to calm.

He looked around this little world that seemed isolated from the rest of the world.

The bamboo shadows danced, the pond water rippled slightly, and the golden glow of the setting sun was being eroded bit by bit by the night.

Then, he turned to Chu Changsheng and bowed deeply again: "Yes, Revered Master! This Disciple will certainly not fail your expectations!"

His voice was not loud, but it echoed clearly amidst the rustling of the bamboo forest.