The Path Toward Heaven

Chapter 83: The Simplest Thing I Can Imagine

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Standing on the plank path on the cliff and watching the two figures in the distance walk toward the buildings, a fierce expression formed on Shi Fengchen’s face.

The ocean wind stirred his yellowish beard, but not the wrinkles on his face, etched there as if to symbolize how much he had exerted himself physically and mentally for the Imperial Court.

A subordinate asked for his instruction, “Master, they are almost inside the building now, should we act?”

Narrowing his eyes, Shi Fengchen said, “Wait! There are so many guests of the Four-Seas Banquet there. Something might go wrong if we act now.”

The subordinate understood what he meant. The Western Ocean Sword Sect had already offered enough favor to the Imperial Court by letting the Clean Heaven Bureau supervise the banquet. If the Four-Seas Banquet had to end abruptly or even end up in chaos for catching those two magic demons, who would deal with the anger of Xiwang Sun?

Shi Fengchen asked, “Who are still in the building now?”

“Most of the practitioners have gone to the Cloudy Platform,” a subordinate replied.

Shi Fengchen wasn’t pleased, thinking they couldn’t do anything last night to prevent those two from escaping, but these practitioners still didn’t take the matter seriously even though they knew they would come here to participate in the Four-Seas Banquet.

“What about the Green Mountain Sect?”

“They have gone there as well.”

“Who are still here then?”

“Senior Zhu Jie is still in the Zither building.”

“Him? Good, send someone to inform him, and tell him to keep an eye on those two with the conical hats on.”

“The rest are waiting outside.”

“Inform the Western Ocean Sword Sect, asking them to send the sword message to the Cloudy Platform. Leave everything else be.”

Shi Fengchen’s orders were concise and straightforward.

He was certain that the suspects would be trapped in his net once those two left the Lone Mountain.

The subordinates of the Pure Heaven Bureau also believed those two didn’t have a chance to escape that day, but they were also quite baffled.

Why would they dare come to the Four-Seas Banquet? There was no difference between coming here so visibly and having a death wish!

“If I’ve guessed correctly, these two are perhaps the abandoned disciples of a major sect, so they have no future in Cultivation, forced to leave the mountain gate and destined to end up in a pitiful state. For them, the most important thing is Cultivation; if they could obtain the precious treasure awarded by Xiwang Sun, they might still have some hope in Cultivation, so they have no other choice but to show up.”

Shi Fengchen sneered. “Humans die for money, and birds die for food; these practitioners aren’t any different, even though they seem to be above the mortals.”

...

...

The Lone Mountain wasn’t actually by itself, instead being found where the jagged peaks were situated along the ocean, with the cliff side facing west, and there were a few naturally formed lakes and inlets that had beautiful, blue waters.

The zither music could be heard coming from the opposite side of the inlet, and it sounded wonderful, but the fine music wasn’t a distraction to anyone here, since they were preoccupied with a large chessboard hung from the second floor. They were in discourse with their colleagues, shouting out compliments “Good!”, “Excellent!”, and “Marvelous!” every once in a while; of course, sometimes angry critiques could be heard as well.

Jing Jiu was not accustomed to such a crowded environment, but he forced himself to watch the match for a while. Yesterday, Zhao Layue gave him a booklet on how to play chess. He had read it once and remembered all the rules, but the written words were still different from the actual game, so he had to watch the match to truly understand chess.

“How much do you understand?” Zhao Layue asked.

“I don’t think it’s so hard; I can give it a try,” said Jing Jiu.

Zhao Layue said, “As I said in the Ocean-God Temple, this is the simplest thing for you.”

Jing Jiu smiled, “So I’ll go there now.”

Zhao Layue nodded, “Knock ‘em dead.”

...

...

The application procedure was quite simple: Jing Jiu was led to a quiet corner, sitting at a table across from his opponent who had been waiting for him already.

Beside of his conical hat, his table didn’t attract any attention, and the only sounds were the chess pieces landing on the board.

The match was over in short order. Jing Jiu stood up and nodded his head.

His opponent was a young man, a disciple of an unknown sect, whose face turned red, the expression in his eyes showing melancholy and anger.

For these practitioners, calculation was unnecessary, as they could tell the outcome by simply looking at the chess board; the young disciple knew he lost the game by three squares.

This was a close match. The young disciple could have even won had he played a little more carefully mid-game. Yet, what really bothered him was that Jing Jiu played like an obvious beginner, not even knowing basic strategies. At the beginning, he thought he could win the match easily, so he didn’t want to discourage his opponent, playing a few inconsequential steps on purpose; he didn’t expect the game to take a turn near the end, and ultimately, he somehow lost!

It wasn’t until he laid down the last piece that he figured out how he lost the game.

A caretaker of the Western Ocean Sword Sect came over and recorded the match result and took Jing Jiu to another place.

As before, his opponent was sitting at the table waiting for him, who was a middle-aged man with a calming expression.

“You have pretty good luck,” the middle-aged man said to him, smiling.

Jing Jiu looked up at him, feeling surprised.

“The match order has been arranged beforehand, so your luck unfortunately will stop here.”

Pointing to the bulletin hung in the hallway, the middle-aged man said, “I’m a careful person, so I won’t make the same mistakes as that young disciple.”

To obtain the precious treasures of the Western Ocean Sword Sect by utilizing their hobbies like zither, chess, calligraphy and painting was a great opportunity for those practitioners who were not so talented in Cultivation but good at these leisure activities. This middle-aged man was exactly this type. He checked it out already, finding that that gifted youth of the Middle State Sect didn’t even register for the match, so he shouldn’t have any strong opponent during the tournament; he was confident he would win the treasure. As he said, he was very careful. He finished his previous game earlier than Jing Jiu; so he observed the match between Jing Jiu and that young man. Then he was certain Jing Jiu’s chess skill was inferior to his by quite a wide margin; if he didn’t make mistakes, it was impossible for him to lose the game.

Without a word, Jing Jiu placed a black chess piece on the game board.

For Jing Jiu, this was a natural thing to do, since playing chess was not chatting. However, for those long-time chess players, it was an impolite act.

The middle-aged man frowned, not very happy about that.

...

...

The ocean wind blew up the white silk screens, bringing in fresh air.

The sounds of chess pieces dropping on the game board stopped.

Jing Jiu put down the teacup, making no sound as well.

Everything fell silent.

The middle-aged man slammed the chess pieces still in his hand on the table, and stood up, leaving without a word.

Jing Jiu won. The whole process was similar to his first game.

His chess skill was really like that of beginners, even worse, actually. He didn’t know any strategies, and his playing looked unreasonable. However, as the game proceeded, he somehow could gain slight advantages in those seemingly insignificant spots, building up his overall lead in the game until claiming final victory by winning merely two or three pieces.

Like that young man, this middle-aged man didn’t know where he made mistakes until the very end.

The caretaker of the Western Ocean Sword Sect came over and recorded the result; but he couldn’t help but take a look at Jing Jiu. The middle-aged man who had just left without a word was a regular traveling practitioner, though was of some renown in chess circles, so the Western Ocean Sword Sect had already been paying attention to him. Unexpectedly, he lost the game to this conical hat guy.

Jing Jiu stood up, ready to leave.

But the caretaker motioned for him to sit down, and replaced his tea.

This time, he merely needed to sit by the table waiting for his opponent to come over.

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