Chapter 138 - 130: The Immortal in the Painting

Chapter 138: Chapter 130: The Immortal in the Painting"We forgot to do something," Lv Mingkun reminded Zhou Xuan. "What’s that?" Zhou Xuan asked. "We didn’t deal with Du Kaili’s body," Lv Mingkun said, sliding the Bamboo Leaf Blade into his hand, "Now the disciples at the Wuzuo Tangkou are working for the kidnapper." "Are you afraid that Wuzuo will use Corpse Language to learn our identities from Du Kaili’s skeleton?" "Yes." Lv Mingkun became more frightened the more he thought about it, wanting to shout at the driver to stop and head to Shande Hospital to eliminate these traces. "What’s the rush?" Zhou Xuan analyzed with Lv Mingkun: "I’ve thought about what you mentioned, but there’s no need to worry. Only I laid a hand on Du Likai, and do you think they can find me with the way I look now?" Zhou Xuan was in disguise, now looking like an old man. Even if Wuzuo saw him, with this appearance, where could he find the real Zhou Xuan? "But they can search based on your methods." "Let them search," Zhou Xuan said with a smile that seemed to enjoy the spectacle: "When I killed Du Kaili, I used the technique of the eighth incense of the storyteller—Dream into Dream. Even if Wuzuo recognizes this technique, he has to go after the storyteller of the eight incense for revenge, what does it have to do with me, Zhou Xuan?" Upon hearing this, Lv Mingkun also revealed a "looking forward to the show" kind of smile: "Now that you mention it, I’m rather looking forward to the play that unfolds after Wuzuo uses Corpse Language and sees the scenario of Du Kaili being killed." ... The tram came to a halt at the corner of East Market Street, opposite a soccer field where a group of older children were playing football, with Mu Hua also standing nearby watching. "Does Mu Hua like watching football?" Lv Mingkun, with sharp eyes, spotted Mu Hua. "People just don’t like to talk; there might be something wrong with his nerves, but he also seeks happiness." "Have you noticed that Mu Hua is wearing a robe exactly like yours?" Lv Mingkun reminded again. Zhou Xuan first looked at the color of his own robe, then at Mu Hua. It’s true, not only were their features hard to distinguish from each other, but with the robes being the same color, they looked identical. "This is also a wardrobe clash. I’ll have to change when I get home." Zhou Xuan intended to distinguish himself from Mu Hua, so as to avoid any more cases of mistaken identity on East Market Street. After a few more glances at Mu Hua, Zhou Xuan didn’t pay attention anymore and went to the Old Painting Pavilion with Lv Mingkun. The door to the Old Painting Pavilion was open, and the scene inside was exactly the same as what Zhou Xuan remembered from Blood Well and the original shop owner, Li Lingzhang. However, sitting at the door was a middle-aged Taoist, wearing a green Daoist robe, engrossed in reading a copy of the Cave Spirit Scripture. "Who is this middle-aged Taoist?" Zhou Xuan wondered as he approached the Taoist and asked, "Are you the boss?" The middle-aged Taoist got startled, then put away the book, stood up, and with a smile said, "This poor Daoist is the owner of this shop. Customer, what would you like to buy?" "Wasn’t someone else the previous owner?" "Oh, he had something come up and went out, so I took over the shop. We are relatives." The Taoist amiably brewed a cup of tea for Zhou Xuan and Lv Mingkun inside the shop. Zhou Xuan received the tea without drinking it and put it on the table; Lv Mingkun didn’t drink either. Not drinking from strangers outside is an alertness of the Dark Door, and Zhou Xuan didn’t drink because he thought the Taoist was full of lies. Li Lingzhang didn’t just have something come up—he was killed by Chun Meng, effectively a wrongful death. How could someone who suffered such a fate have possibly planned to transfer his shop ahead of time? Moreover, Zhou Xuan had carefully reviewed Li Lingzhang’s memory—who was this Taoist relative? This Taoist was a problem. Had he forcibly taken over Li Lingzhang’s shop? However, whether the Taoist had taken over the shop or not, Zhou Xuan didn’t care about that. He was preoccupied with flipping through various books and paintings in the Old Painting Pavilion. Since the Blood Well hinted that the tattoo fortune was in this shop, and Li Lingzhang had no memory of the tattoo. Zhou Xuan then thought, perhaps the methods to amass incense through tattooing were recorded in one of the old books in the shop. Li Lingzhang dealt with old books and basically never bothered to look through what was written inside them. Old books were acquired by weight, so all sorts of miscellaneous books were included. He didn’t have the hobby of reading, and many books were sold in the same condition they were bought. Zhou Xuan began to seriously flip through old books. During this time, the middle-aged Taoist just wouldn’t stop talking, now and then offering Zhou Xuan some walnuts, now and then showing him a few old Copper Coins, asking if Zhou Xuan was interested. While the Old Painting Pavilion dealt with old books, they also sold small antique trinkets, with no guarantee of their authenticity. They could truly be old items passed down for a long time or might be as recent as last week... "Customer, look at these walnuts; they’ve been passed down for several hundred years. Look at the patina, look at the color. They’ve been handled by more than a dozen old men." "Do you see this teapot? Genuine article, it came from the palace in the past. I’m offering it to you just because you look friendly. Name your price?" "Don’t just look at those books. See this calligraphy model book? Do you love calligraphy? This model is authentic, from the great calligrapher Xi Cong. He practiced based on this model, and his calligraphy was as fierce as a dragon and as sharp as hooks." Zhou Xuan’s head ached from listening. In a flash, he felt like dozens of people were standing beside him, non-stop prattling! "Damn it." Zhou Xuan just wanted to concentrate on reading and find the tattoo fortune. Unbearable, Zhou Xuan grabbed a pair of walnuts, asking the middle-aged Taoist, "How much for the walnuts?" "I won’t charge you much, eighty thousand!" "I asked you for a price, not for a wish... Eight yuan!" "Eh... Okay!" He actually hesitated? Zhou Xuan put the walnuts in his pocket, pointing to the middle-aged Taoist’s nose and said, "Fair warning, I’ve bought the walnuts, which counts as patronizing your business. Now I want to read in peace, so later on, you don’t talk, I won’t talk, and the first to speak is a bastard son of a turtle!" He took out eight yuan and stuffed it into the Taoist’s pocket, then continued to read. Suddenly, the whole world quieted down. Zhou Xuan finally could read without hearing the nagging sales pitches, immensely improving his efficiency. The middle-aged Taoist seemed particularly eager to speak. Despite the agreement, he tried multiple times to start a conversation with Zhou Xuan. Each time he was about to speak, Zhou Xuan would crackle the walnuts, reminding the Taoist not to forget the deal. Eventually unable to hold back, the middle-aged Taoist brought a cup of tea and sat on the curb, striking up a conversation with a fruit seller who had a basket in front of her. During this time, he nodded for a while, then shook his head, chatting animatedly to the point of excitement. Zhou Xuan, in the room, flipped through one book after another, continuing until the night grew deep, not to mention finding any clues about tattoo fates, he couldn’t even find a book on how to do ordinary tattoos. By the time he reached the last book, Zhou Xuan felt that he was almost unable to recognize the characters, as if staring at a certain character for twenty seconds and then feeling more and more that the character did not look like a character. "Young Master, Young Master! Hua Zi has been beaten up." Little Fuzi stood at the entrance of the bookstore, calling out to Zhou Xuan. Zhou Xuan finished flipping through the book in his hands, but still found no record of any tattoo fates. Disappointed, he put the book back on the shelf and walked out of the store. "Could my approach be wrong?" Zhou Xuan walked over to Little Fuzi, temporarily setting aside the matter of the tattoo fate, he asked Little Fuzi: "Hua Zi, who is Hua Zi? Were you also beaten up?" Little Fuzi’s face bore marks, with patches of blue and purple, his lips were also broken, dirt smeared across his face. "Mu Hua, I went to the street to buy small furniture just now, and I saw Mu Hua being bullied by a group of teenagers playing football. I went to break up the fight, and they beat me up into this state. Mu Hua got it even worse, he was nearly beaten to death." Little Fuzi had a kind heart; he didn’t bully Mu Hua and had an especially good impression of him because of Mu Hua’s resemblance to Zhou Xuan. "I and Fifth Senior Brother will go take a look." ... The teenagers referred to are around fourteen or fifteen years old. Such children, if guided to kindness, could be extremely kind, brave, with a strong sense of justice, and plenty of courage. But if they are led astray to evil, they become extremely malicious, striking without restraint, full of violence, and utterly lacking empathy. The kids who were beating Mu Hua belonged to the latter category. Their reason for assault was simple; one of the kids took a fancy to Mu Hua’s long coat, demanding him to take it off. When he refused, they began beating him, punching and kicking him all over. By the time Zhou Xuan and Lv Mingkun arrived, Mu Hua instinctively curled up, protecting his head, his long coat was covered in footprints and was tattered and torn, half of his face swollen from the beating. A few of the kids even dropped their trousers and urinated on Mu Hua. "Motherfuckers, it’s one thing to bully someone, but this is not how to do it." Zhou Xuan was extremely angry, walking over to Mu Hua, he gave one of the kids a kick: "Get lost!" The kid felt the pain, and his accomplices gathered around Zhou Xuan as well. Lv Mingkun swung his palm in a wide arc, slapping each kid in the group one by one. "Smack! Smack! Smack!" The sound of palms striking echoed nonstop. These teenagers were all the type to bully the weak and fear the strong. Seeing Lv Mingkun, they scattered like rats. Lv Mingkun leisurely followed behind them, landing a slap whenever he caught up. "Fifth Senior Brother, beat them all the way, right to their doorsteps..." After giving his instructions to Lv Mingkun, Little Fuzi had already picked up Mu Hua. Mu Hua looked at the two, still the same as before, not speaking, and even his gaze contained no emotion. The three of them walked towards Zhou Xuan’s store. Upon reaching the door of the store, Zhou Xuan said to Little Fuzi: "Take him to Sister Cui’s shop, we won’t cook tonight, let’s eat at the restaurant." "Okay," Little Fuzi responded. Zhou Xuan pushed open the store door; the interior had already been tidied up by Little Fuzi, the hole in the ceiling was patched, the screen on the first floor was erected, and all the furniture was dusted and clean. "Little Fuzi is really swift and efficient." Zhou Xuan pulled over a stool, his mind returning once again to the matter of tattoo fate. "The fate lies within Old Painting Pavilion, but there’s no record of tattoos in the books there, and Li Lingzhang’s memories contain nothing about tattoos either... So where is the tattoo hidden? Even if it is indeed hidden away, who would have hidden it?" ... Old Painting Pavilion was an old bookstore that closed early. After Zhou Xuan and Little Fuzi had sent Mu Hua home, the middle-aged Taoist closed up shop and rested. Planks were slotted into stone grooves to secure the doors. After closing up, the middle-aged Taoist sighed, muttering, "Ah, spending days with no one to talk to, I’m nearly suffocating here. Li Lingzhang lived alone; even insects don’t make a sound in his house. When little Lingzhang was here, although he didn’t talk either, there was at least a presence of life. Now that he’s gone, that is gone too, I’m unbearably bored every day." He picked up the "Cave Spirit Scripture," flipped through a few pages, then feeling uninterested, he tossed the book on the counter. "Ah well, time for a snooze." The middle-aged Taoist proceeded into the inner room. Hanging on the wall inside was a painting. The painting was mounted, but except for two lines of tiny characters, the rice paper was blank – an empty painting. Suddenly, the middle-aged Taoist lightly leaped forward, and as he collided with the painting, it turned into a pool of water, causing ripples and waves to emerge. As the ripples subsided, and the waves stopped, the painting was no longer empty. A middle-aged Taoist in blue robes lay on his side within the painting. On the right side of the painting, the tiny characters spelled out two lines. The first line: Hidden Dragon Mountain, Heavenly Master Mansion, Dragon Seeking Grandmaster. The second line: Without Dragon Seeking Qi, one may not meet a True Dragon; acupoint technique rivals the Mountain Ancestor, Xuantian sees the true sect. Not long after the Taoist entered the painting, a loud snoring sound emerged from within, the uninhabited painting rolled up by itself into a scroll and drifted toward the pile of old scrolls outside the shop. Old Painting Pavilion, apart from old books and small antique artifacts, also had many old paintings...