Chapter 228: Chapter 155: With Sword Unsecured, the World Outside is Already Jianghu
Whether it was his background as the Third Young Master of Meihua Manor or his high ranking on the Weapon Manual, Chu Chengfeng had more than earned this level of special treatment. He commanded great respect.
What Zheng Xiu couldn’t understand was why the Martial World of two hundred years ago—with its Weapon Manual and its various Renowned and Righteous Sects—had left no trace or legacy in his own time, two centuries later.
Why had these Martial Arts Sects vanished without a trace two hundred years ago? What exactly happened during the Tianjing era, a period known as the darkest in history, a time barely detailed in the historical records? Zheng Xiu was deeply curious.
"I get it."
’I suspect the scroll records Gongsun Mo’s memories. If that’s the case, anything he didn’t know can’t appear in the Ghostly Realm within the painting.’
’For example, if in his memory, he stayed in this room all day, then he would have no way of knowing what was happening outside.’
’But what if I force my way out? Will some kind of "irresistible force" try to stop me?’
Muttering to himself, Zheng Xiu walked to the door. Just as he was about to push it open, his hands froze in place.
’That’s not right. I’m in the Ghostly Realm. I can’t even be sure if the world I see after opening this door is part of Gongsun Mo’s memory. I can’t even tell if what I’m doing now is something Gongsun Mo did all those years ago, or something that I, Zheng Xiu, have decided to do.’
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
As Zheng Xiu stood before the door lost in thought, the sudden knocking from outside made him jump.
"Who is it?"
Zheng Xiu asked.
"Younger Brother Gongsun, did you sleep well last night?"
Chu Chengfeng’s boisterous voice came from outside the door.
Opening the door, Zheng Xiu saw a neatly dressed Chu Chengfeng standing outside, smiling warmly. He was holding a basin of hot water and a clean towel, his face showing no hint of a hangover.
Zheng Xiu clasped his hands in a fist and palm salute. "Thank you for your concern, Brother Chu. I’m afraid I can’t hold my liquor. My head is pounding, and I’m not feeling well at all."
Chu Chengfeng laughed heartily. "Then you’ll have to practice more, my friend! In the Jianghu, being a poor drinker can put you at a real disadvantage!" With that, he moved past Zheng Xiu, placed the basin on the table, and gestured for him to wash up and freshen up from the alcohol.
"Thank you, Brother Chu!"
Zheng Xiu said, grateful.
After Chu Chengfeng closed the door and left, another wave of shock hit Zheng Xiu. The words he had just spoken had tumbled out of his mouth almost automatically. He couldn’t tell if he had meant to say them, or if he was simply reciting lines from Gongsun Mo’s memory. The feeling was impossible to describe in just a few words. Had he not experienced it firsthand, Zheng Xiu would never have believed that a Painter could capture memories on a scroll with such startling realism, blurring the line between what was real and what was illusion.
’Could it be...’
Zheng Xiu raised an eyebrow. He bolted the door and took off his clothes.
He carefully inspected his entire body. At least in the places he could see, he found none of the unique "marks" of a Mystic.
’Surely it wouldn’t be as obvious as being on my face.’
The bronze basin was filled with steaming hot water. Zheng Xiu took out the towel, wrung it dry, and waited for the ripples on the surface to still. Using the water as a mirror, he peered at his reflection.
THUMP.
The towel in Zheng Xiu’s hand dropped to his feet.
He stared in astonishment at the reflection in the water—at the handsome face, its features unable to conceal its utter shock.
An inexplicable chill shot up his spine, making him shudder involuntarily.
The face reflected in the basin...
It was his!
Not the strange face of someone named Gongsun Mo.
And certainly not the face of the Mighty Painter, Zheng Shan.
It was his.
The son of Good man Zheng, Zheng Haoran; Tycoon Zheng.
Zheng Xiu’s face!!
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