Chapter Seventy-Seven: Unseen Currents Rising

"Bang—"
A violent click sounded from the other end of the phone.
Tears still clung to Yao Qianqian’s cheeks as she stared in bewilderment. Why would Senior Wang Jie, who was always so gentle and considerate toward her, suddenly hang up so rudely?
What on earth was happening?
But Yao Qianqian could not have known just how shattered Wang Jie’s state of mind was at that moment.
Moments earlier, he had personally witnessed Lin Feng laying waste to all challengers in the ring, dispatching Cheng Qianfeng with a single move and then crippling Long Aoyun with his own hands.
Lin Feng now stood at the apex of Binhai City’s underworld, reigning alone at the very top.
The tournament was not even over when Wang Jie’s confidant informed him that the Ji Sheng Society had launched a full-scale assault on the headless Tianlong Hall. The entire underworld of Binhai was about to be turned on its head!
And the instigator, the mastermind behind it all—was none other than your husband, Yao Qianqian!
You’re calling me now?
What, are you that eager to cuckold the new emperor of Binhai’s underworld the moment he takes the throne?
If you want to do it, do it yourself—don’t drag me into this mess!
I still want to live a few more years!
With Tianlong Hall’s collapse, my company—built on its backing—was neck-deep in money laundering and predatory lending. Without their protection, the company could go bankrupt in minutes!
I’m already preparing to flee for my life; where would I find the leisure or the mood to flirt with you?
Do you have any sense at all?
Wang Jie was now wracked with regret. He could have just kept his head down and made money—at worst, he’d end up in prison after Tianlong Hall’s fall.
But now?
If Lin Feng ever realized the truth, he would hunt him to the ends of the earth. Only escape offered any hope of survival!
Staring into the ink-black night sky, Wang Jie was rendered speechless, tears streaming down his face before he could utter a word.

…

Meanwhile, at the Kīlauea volcano in Hawaii, thick smoke billowed into the sky, yet a solitary, slender figure sat cross-legged by the crater’s edge.
A warped barrier of space seemed to envelop him, keeping the choking fumes at bay.
Though his hair was completely white, his features were youthful and refined, showing no sign of age. His hands were pressed together in meditation, breathing in a steady, almost imperceptible rhythm, as if drawing in pure energy with each breath. The pace was so slow it evoked the image of a turtle breathing at the bottom of the sea—mysterious beyond words.
This man was none other than Xiong Wanhong, the martial prodigy who had once stirred up storms of blood in the world of Chinese martial arts.

Though he was already past fifty, there was not a trace of age about him. Instead, his aura was restrained and profound, his mind as calm as still water.
At that moment, a burly, blond-haired, blue-eyed man approached, pressing his palms together in a respectful salute:
“Master, Cheng Qianfeng has been defeated, and Long Aoyun crippled. The pieces we placed in China have been exposed. With the Five Provinces Martial Arts Tournament approaching, I await your guidance.”
The blond man reported calmly, standing quietly by, awaiting Xiong Wanhong’s reply.
After a long moment, Xiong Wanhong slowly opened his eyes, his voice low and commanding:
“Andrew, take Xu Jie and implement Plan B. My cultivation is now only half a step from the Saint Realm. Before I emerge from seclusion, you must seize the five coastal provinces and make them the bridgehead for Skull Society’s counteroffensive against China!”
“Yes, Master. However, the Chinese martial artist who defeated Cheng Qianfeng—Lin Feng—is said to be barely in his twenties, yet already at the Grandmaster level. Should we…”
“Andrew, remember: below the Saint Realm, all are ants. I am now half a step away from that realm—ordinary Grandmasters are as insignificant as insects. Both you and Xu Jie are Grandmasters. Lin Feng is nothing to fear.”
“I understand, Master. I will see it done.”
The blond man retreated respectfully and left in silence.

…

Chuzhou City, upper reaches of the Long River.

A bamboo raft drifted quietly across the wide waters. At its prow stood a slender man dressed in a blood-red robe, gazing out at the river’s grandeur.
He looked up at the sun, a slight frown creasing his brows.
“Boatman, how much longer until we reach the Chuzhou City dock?”
“Sir, the Chuzhou City dock is still more than fifty li away. At our current speed it’ll be another two to three hours!”
“Two to three hours? Hmph, what use are you to me then?”
With a soft murmur and a flash of coldness in his eyes, the red-robed man suddenly moved.
With a wave of his hand, the boatman dissolved into a spray of blood with a terrified scream, leaving behind only a desiccated corpse at the stern.
The man’s right hand transformed from palm to claw, drawing all the blood into his grasp.
With a flick, he spread a crimson path across the water.
He stepped off the raft, his left foot treading the waves, his right upon the ribbon of blood.
With another gesture, the blood beneath his feet shot forward like a rocket toward Chuzhou, propelling him swiftly across the river.
Everywhere he passed, blood-red waves churned, each splash as ghastly as a cuckoo’s lament, drawing gasps of horror from bystanders on the riverbanks.

Half an hour later, at the Chuzhou dock.

Liu Ke, missing an arm and a leg, sat in a wheelchair loudly berating those around him:
“Luo Jiale! Are you sure the Blood Mage is supposed to arrive at eleven? It’s already been nearly half an hour! Why isn’t he here yet?”

“President Liu, please don’t worry. The Blood Mage is a senior figure in the Demon Society—a great sorcerer at the Celestial Master level, two full realms above Wang Yun, who was only an Initiate. He is a genuine titan, a warlord of the southern border!”
Clutching the society’s waist token, Luo Jiale craned his neck, searching.
Suddenly, a crimson line streaked toward them from the horizon over the river.
Luo Jiale brightened and shouted,
“It’s the Blood Mage! He’s here!”
Liu Ke stretched to see, and sure enough, over a thousand meters away, a figure was skimming atop the churning blood-stained waves, racing toward them.
As the figure drew near, Liu Ke could not help but exclaim,
“The Blood Mage is truly extraordinary, riding the blood waves as if by magic!”
“I am Liu Ke, steward of the Chuzhou branch of the Demon Society, honored to greet the Blood Mage!”
Liu Ke called out in reverence, his eyes wild with fanaticism, swearing silently,
“Lin Feng! You took my arm and my leg; I will make you pay a millionfold! I will see you begging for death, unable even to die! Hahaha!”
In response to Liu Ke’s cry, the assembled Chuzhou elites all bowed their heads and knelt on one knee.
The red-robed man lifted his right hand, and the blood waves gently set him down on the dock.
“You are Liu Ke?”
“Yes, Blood Mage, I am Liu Ke. It was all that wretch Lin Feng from Binhai—he used despicable tricks, killed Sorcerer Wang Yun, and severed my arm and leg! I beg you to avenge me!”
Liu Ke wailed, head bowed in supplication.
But the red-robed man glanced at him coldly and replied,
“Hmph, Wang Yun was killed because he was weak—he deserved no better. If I had to avenge every member who died each year, I’d work myself to death.
I am here today for the Five Provinces Martial Arts Tournament in a few months—not to avenge a useless cripple like you.”
With that, he swept his sleeve and turned to leave.
Stunned, Liu Ke quickly recovered, his gloom deepening as he muttered,
“Very well! Rumor has it that a ‘Master Lin’ has appeared in Binhai, defeated Long Aoyun, and won a place in the Five Provinces Martial Arts Tournament. This so-called ‘Master Lin’—that’s you, isn’t it, Lin Feng?”
“The Five Provinces Martial Arts Tournament? I’m looking forward to it more and more! Lin Feng, we shall meet again very soon!”