Master of Chinese Martial Arts: I Can Steal the Skills of a Grandmaster from the Republic of China E

Chapter 111 Stealing the Sky and Changing the Sun

Zhou Xing swam downstream with the current for a while and then went ashore at the designated secluded bend in the river.

This is an abandoned shed for boatmen, with a half-collapsed reed mat roof and two pillars leaning precariously in the mud. It is about a mile from the Xiaxi River Sluice Gate.

He crawled into the shack, where he hid an oilcloth bag.

Inside were several dried biscuits, a packet of braised beef, a pot of sorghum liquor, a small packet of ginseng slices, and some wound medicine.

He first chewed on the ginseng slices, then tore off half a piece of bread and swallowed it in large mouthfuls with the cold beef.

When the sorghum liquor is poured down, a fiery line burns from the throat to the stomach, stimulating the blood and qi to flow smoothly.

The Fishing Toad Force flowed slowly through his body, and the wounds on his face had already healed under the influence of the puppet, leaving only a red line.

Only the lingering injuries and fatigue from the fierce battle with Renault still require healing. A faint buzzing still lingers in his ears, the echoes of explosions and gunfire.

He ate while keeping track of the time. His pocket watch showed that it was nearly noon.

The main ceremony of the River God Festival is about to begin.

"Reno is dead, his team has lost its leader, and the chess players in the French Concession are out of the game."

He gave his equipment a final check: the Gong family dagger was strapped to his leg, Renault's rapier and holy water bottle were wrapped in oilcloth around his waist, and the Xingyi spear was slung over his back.

He carried nothing but his weapon.

The pistol was useless underwater, so it was wrapped tightly in tarpaulin and stuffed into a hidden compartment in the corner of the shed.

He touched the river-suppressing coin, then slid back into the water and swam downstream.

Let's explore the Xihe Sluice Gate again.

The river water is even muddier than before.

The closer you get to the sluice gate, the stronger the invisible sense of oppression becomes.

The water flow became turbulent, no longer flowing in a single direction, but stirred by some force, forming countless tiny eddies.

"Thump—thump—thump—"

The sound came again.

This time, it was no longer distant and vague, but close at hand, as if it were echoing deep within the skull.

Each "thump" caused the water to vibrate, causing the blood and qi to circulate and the heart to beat.

It wasn't like a sound, but more like the pulse of something alive. It was the heartbeat of this section of the river, the awakening of some ancient being slumbering deep within the riverbed.

Zhou Xing forced himself to calm down, circulated his Fishing Toad Energy, and breathed deeply like a tortoise, resisting the pervasive vibrations.

With keen hearing, I cast a net, capturing every unusual sound in the gaps between deafening heartbeats.

His fascia expanded, and with a twist of his waist, he swam towards the direction where his heart was beating most violently, which was the base of the gate, with a narrow slit at the bottom.

The crack was deep and dark, like a giant maw ready to devour its prey.

It was pitch black inside, with only the heavy pounding of a heartbeat emanating from it, pushing the water in ripples that spread outwards and crashed against Zhou Xing.

He stopped in front of the crack, took a deep breath, and shrank into the darkness of the crack.

Just as Zhou Xing disappeared into the crevice, not far behind him, in a reef covered with dark green algae, a pair of eyes slowly opened.

Those eyes were calm and serene, carrying an all-knowing indifference, quietly watching the direction in which Zhou Xing disappeared.

A moment later, the shadow rippled slightly, as if it had melted into the river water, leaving no trace.

Meanwhile, ten miles away, at the Tianhou Temple Square, a bustling crowd of people gathered. Colorful flags fluttered and drums resounded.

Beneath the enormous, colorful archway, the main altar has been set up, complete with incense tables, offerings, ritual implements, and other items, creating a solemn and dignified atmosphere.

Below the stage, three Taoist priests dressed in embroidered gold and crimson robes stood upright, holding jade tablets in their hands, their faces beaming with pride.

They were the chief priests elected by the Tianjin Taoist Association. Being able to officiate at such a grand ceremony signifies prestige, incense offerings, and...

And even their future influence within the association.

Just as the master of ceremonies finished chanting "Please invite the chief priest to ascend the altar—", a group of people dressed in gray Zhongshan suits and wearing special passes suddenly blocked their way.

"Please wait, fellow Taoist priests."

The leader was a tall, thin man wearing round glasses. He spoke politely, "Today's chief officiant has other arrangements. Please take your seats in the VIP section of the viewing platform."

"What?"

The long-bearded Taoist priest in the middle frowned. "Absurd! We drafted the sacrificial text and ritual. The time is approaching; how can we change commanders at the last minute?"

"This is an order from above."

The tall, thin man pushed up his glasses and said in a firm tone, "Please cooperate and take your seats in the audience area."

The long-bearded Taoist priest was about to argue when the crowd suddenly parted.

Qingxu and Yunqing walked forward first, dressed in sky-blue robes and wearing Hunyuan headscarves. One carried a whisk, and the other held a magic sword, their steps were calm and steady.

Four middle-aged Taoist priests followed behind him, all holding ritual implements and with solemn expressions.

Beside them, Zhang Pinyou, dressed in the civilian clothes of a Fengtian Army officer with a pistol at his waist, led a small squad of guards. Wherever his gaze swept, the noise subsided slightly.

Zhang Pinyou stepped forward and clasped his hands in greeting to the three Taoist priests: "Three Taoist priests, today's River God Festival is of great importance. The higher authorities have specially invited these high-ranking priests from Yuntian Temple to preside over the ceremony to ensure its success. You have worked hard, so please come and observe the ceremony. You will be rewarded afterwards."

The words were polite, but the mere mention of Yuntian Temple immediately dampened the arrogance of the three Taoist priests. Although the temple was not well-known, those in the know recognized its significance.

Looking at the guards behind Zhang Pinyou, their hands on their holsters, their eyes sharp, the three of them exchanged glances, and in the end dared not cause any more trouble. They turned and went to the viewing platform, sullenly flicking their sleeves.

Zhang Pinyou gave a wink, and two guards quietly followed.

Qingxu nodded slightly to Zhang Pinyou and said in a low voice, "Thank you for your trouble, Lieutenant Zhang."

"You're too kind, Taoist priest."

Zhang Pinyou stepped back. "The surrounding area has been arranged perfectly, with absolutely no distractions. The affairs of the altar are entirely up to you all."

Qingxu said no more and quickly ascended the altar with Yunqing and the others.

Xuan Chengzi was already standing on the altar.

Today he changed into an extremely old apricot-yellow robe, embroidered with the sun, moon, stars, mountains, and rivers. Although the color was somewhat faded, the ancient and profound Daoist aura emanated from it.

He didn't carry any magical artifacts; he simply stood with his hands behind his back, looking up at the sky, as if sensing something.

When Qingxu and the others took the stage, they didn't say much and each performed their duties.

Yun Qing hung an old Bagua mirror in front of the altar, facing due east, with the mirror surface facing the sky.

Qingxu personally lit three sticks of ambergris incense, each as thick as an arm, and inserted them into the bronze incense burner.

The cigarette smoke rose straight up, then suddenly dispersed at a height of three feet, transforming into a cloud of auspicious smoke that gently enveloped the altar and lingered for a long time.

Upon hearing this, an experienced elder in the audience exclaimed in a low voice, "Condensing smoke into a canopy—that's true skill!"

Xuan Chengzi slowly withdrew his gaze from the sky and looked at the incense burner. The incense ash inside the burner moved on its own without any wind, slowly forming a small vortex.

"The time is approaching."

He whispered something that clearly reached the ears of Qingxu and the others.

Qingxu nodded, indicating that everything was ready.

As the sun rose higher and its intense sunlight shone down, the people on the altar did not feel the heat, but rather a sense of coolness and tranquility, thanks to the auspicious clouds above the altar.

Xuan Chengzi stepped forward, extended his right index finger, and made a sweeping motion in the air.

The movements were extremely slow; as the fingertips passed through, the air made a faint hissing sound.

A pale golden trail lingered in the air, gradually forming a complex pattern that resembled both a talisman and some kind of ancient star map.

The area below the altar was completely silent; everyone held their breath.

Xuan Chengzi finished the last stroke and flicked his finger.

The golden patterns scattered instantly, turning into specks of light that disappeared into the vortex of the incense burner.

"Buzz!"

The incense burner was shaken slightly, and the vortex inside suddenly started spinning faster.

All the ritual implements on the altar emitted low sounds at the same time: the copper bells tinkled, the magic swords hummed softly, and the command flags moved without wind.

Xuan Chengzi closed his eyes, formed a strange mudra with his hands in front of his chest, and began to chant.

At first, the voice was very low, like a murmur or a dream.

Gradually rising in pitch, it transformed into a desolate, ancient chant filled with a strange rhythm. Each syllable seemed to carry weight, pressing heavily into the listener's heart.

Thin clouds had gathered in the sky, making the sunlight hazy.

The sound of the waves of the Haihe River in the distance suddenly became rapid, crashing and pounding like countless hands pounding against the embankment.

Below the altar, the crowd looked up, mouths agape, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity, bewilderment, and a hint of awe.

This river god festival seems a little different from previous years.