Chapter 839: Laying the Cards on the Table

By now, He Lingchuan already knew that because of the barrier between the two realms, real-time communication between gods and mortals was not easy, even when the mortal in question was one of the god’s own believers. Otherwise, the Star-Plucking Tower of the Heavenly Palace would have no need to maintain a Heavenly Tome that allowed the gods to write only a few lines at a time.

The usual method was for a believer to use some ritual object, pray devoutly, call upon the god, relax their mind, and wait for the god to pick their number—no, wait for the god’s will to project itself over and converse with them.

Ideally, the surroundings should also be quiet and sheltered from the wind. That could save the god a considerable amount of divine energy.

He Chunhua called upon Naluotian inside a drafty horse pen only because he had no other choice.

He believed himself to have reached the end of the road and had no choice but to borrow the power of a heavenly god.

Yet He Lingchuan had been astonishingly vigilant and had once again ruined his plans.

No matter how patient He Chunhua was, he could no longer hold himself back. More importantly, danger surrounded them on every side, and he truly could not afford to delay any longer.

Fine. Fine, then.

“Chuan’er, Chuan’er!” He gave a bitter laugh. “I kept clinging to hope. I kept refusing to do this. But the way you’ve behaved, everything you’ve done... I truly can’t...”

Everything He Lingchuan had done since returning from his disappearance had practically been handing He Chunhua the knife himself.

“What do you mean, old man?” He Lingchuan blinked, though inwardly he thought, Here it comes. He’s finally going to lay everything on the table.

“You already knew where the Generous Pot was, didn’t you?” He Chunhua’s smile vanished, and his gaze bored deeply into him. “If there’s anyone in this city who knew the Generous Pot’s location from the very beginning, it could only be you.”

The accusation came out of nowhere, leaving both Qiu Hu and Zhao Qinghe astonished.

The Soul-Stealing Mirror shrieked, “Ah! H-he knows! How does he know?!”

It had never been able to follow the thought processes of this father and son from beginning to end.

“Huh? Me?” He Lingchuan pointed at his nose in utter disbelief. “Old man, have you been scared stupid?” That’s right. It could only be me.

“You stopped being my son a long time ago!” All traces of fatherly affection had vanished from He Chunhua’s face. “Before we left the Panlong Ruins last time, you possessed Chuan’er through that broken saber, didn’t you?”

He Lingchuan looked genuinely baffled. “What are you talking about? Who possessed me?”

“An evil ghost from the Generous Pot!” He Chunhua was practically grinding his teeth. “After we returned home from the Panlong Desert, Chuan’er changed. That personality, that way of doing things, how could that possibly be my son?!”

He Lingchuan did not know whether to laugh or cry. “Old man, are you upset because I changed for the better, or because I changed for the worse?”

He Chunhua’s emotions shifted between anger and bitterness.

After they had returned from the Panlong Desert last time, his eldest son had become more and more promising. He practiced martial arts diligently, became far better at dealing with people, and had even saved He Chunhua’s life several times in battle!

He had even learned how to please his stepmother. Whenever Ying Hongchan mentioned his eldest son now, she actually smiled from ear to ear!

No one knew better than He Chunhua what kind of person his own son had originally been.

At the time, those changes had emerged gradually, while one major matter after another kept piling onto He Chunhua’s shoulders, leaving him spinning like a top without time to think carefully about any of it. Only after his eldest son was swept away by the flood did He Chunhua spend the following year and a half slowly looking back. The more he thought about it, the more wrong everything seemed.

This time, his eldest son had suddenly returned carrying the status of a special envoy from the Rongshan Sect. He no longer bothered concealing himself in speech or conduct and even openly opposed He Chunhua at every turn.

If He Chunhua still could not see that something was wrong, then he might as well have been blind!

And that was without even mentioning how strangely familiar this brat seemed with Panlong Ancient City, to the point that he could lead the Heishui City army through its streets and alleys.

The gale and snow blinded the eyes, the abandoned city’s alleys all looked eerily similar, and aberrant creatures were pursuing them from behind... All of these were serious distractions. Unless He Lingchuan knew this place inside and out, how could he have avoided taking a single wrong turn?

Someone this capable simply could not be his son, He Lingchuan!

“You were missing for so long, then suddenly came back looking for me. Wasn’t it because you wanted to enter the Panlong Ruins?” He Chunhua stared at him without blinking. “Why haven’t you revealed your true form yet? Or are you—” He pointed east with his other hand before continuing, “desperate to enter the Generous Pot? You want to return to your own territory, don’t you?”

The Soul-Stealing Mirror exclaimed admiringly, “Ohhh, he got that right too!”

“You’ve gone insane, old man.” He Lingchuan shook his head. “I didn’t even want to come to the Panlong Desert this time. You were the one who insisted on dragging me here.”

“You were retreating in order to advance!” He Chunhua barked. “You are Zhong Shengguang! When you supposedly turned to ash in front of us back then, you faked your death! Everything you said was a lie. All that nonsense about the Generous Pot merging with Panlong City—you were only trying to trick us into leaving the Panlong Ruins so you could return to the mortal realm!”

“Old man, you’re only making excuses for yourself.” He Lingchuan looked down at him, his eyes filled with insight and pity. “As long as you decide I’m an evil ghost and not your son, then the rite of divine recompense becomes perfectly justified. You don’t have to feel guilty anymore, right?”

Ever since they entered the Panlong Ruins, no matter how hard He Chunhua tried to hide it, He Lingchuan could still sense his pain and inner conflict.

This cheap old man had been wavering constantly over whether to perform the rite of divine recompense.

Now his attitude had changed so abruptly, and he was suddenly loudly denouncing He Lingchuan. That could only mean he had finally made up his mind to pray for Naluotian to descend!

The words “rite of divine recompense” struck the deepest recesses of He Chunhua’s heart without warning. He shuddered instinctively as though struck by a whip. “Y-you... what did you say?”

He Lingchuan pointed at his own temple. “There’s a divine seal mark from Naluotian inside my sea of consciousness. That’s how gods mark their skin-sacks. Old man—” A cold light appeared in his eyes as he enunciated each word. “Don’t you dare tell me this has nothing to do with you!”

The time had finally come to lay everything on the table!

Since the mask of a loving father and filial son had already been torn apart, there was no point pretending any longer.

They might as well speak openly.

He Chunhua opened his mouth but, for a moment, no sound came out.

He Lingchuan’s words struck his mind like a thunderbolt.

His son knew.

He actually knew!

Countless thoughts surged through He Chunhua in an instant: shock, unease, guilt, regret, and of course, fear.

The fear of being seen through completely, inside and out, with not a single secret or ambition left hidden!

But then he suddenly realized something... This was a secret his eldest son should never have been able to know!

The fact that He Lingchuan could identify Naluotian’s divine seal mark so precisely only proved that he was not Chuan’er at all!

Right, this thing isn’t Chuan’er. This isn’t my son.

In that case, what’s there left for me to struggle over?

“I know why you came back to the Panlong Desert, and why you were so desperate to enter the Generous Pot!” He Chunhua suddenly perked up, his eyes shining brightly. “You want to erase the heavenly god’s mark, don’t you? You went through so much trouble to obtain this skin-sack, and you don’t want Naluotian taking it from you, do you?”

One of He Lingchuan’s eyebrows rose as he heard this.

How exactly has this cheap old man started from a completely wrong assumption and somehow reasoned his way to the correct conclusion?

Still, He Lingchuan was not Zhong Shengguang. He Chunhua was completely wrong about that.

However, He Lingchuan had indeed come here to erase the divine seal mark!

The Soul-Stealing Mirror tucked inside his robes trembled with excitement. This father-and-son battle is far too entertaining. Hah, and I didn’t even need to buy a ticket! Everything was worth it, absolutely worth it!

“Last time, the Panlong Illusion Realm swallowed the divine avatar Sun Fuping summoned.” The light in He Chunhua’s eyes grew brighter and brighter as everything clicked into place. “You want to do the same thing again and have it swallow Naluotian’s avatar too? No wonder... no wonder you were so desperate to return to the Panlong Desert!”

“What a pity—” He Chunhua could no longer restrain himself and burst into laughter. “You were one step away, but I still saw through you!”

Once this aberrant creature enters the red light or the Generous Pot, there would probably be nothing I could do to it!

But right now, we’re all still in the Panlong Ruins. We’re still in reality.

This evil ghost can’t possibly contend against the might of a heavenly god!

He Lingchuan sighed. “Old man, you’ve really lost your mind! Let’s assume everything you said is right; if I abandoned you and rushed east to find the Generous Pot, could you even stop me?”

At He Chunhua’s side, there was only Zhao Qinghe.

The balance of fighting strength was tilted overwhelmingly toward He Lingchuan.

But He Chunhua opened his hands and slowly stepped backward, making no effort to hide the smugness on his face. “It’s too late. You can’t get in anymore.”

He Lingchuan suddenly sensed something strange and turned his wrist over to look.

At some unknown point, several lines of runes had appeared on his wrist. Every character was tiny as a fly’s head, and he could not recognize a single one.

Now, however, all of them were glowing faintly.

He rubbed them forcefully several times, but it was no use. They would not come off.

Of course...

Earlier, when He Chunhua had missed his footing while descending the wall, He Lingchuan had casually steadied him. He Chunhua had seemingly grabbed his wrist on instinct to regain his balance, but in truth, he had secretly stamped an incantation onto it.

When written onto paper, incantations functioned much like talismans. They could save the time required for casting and allow a divine technique to be unleashed far more quickly. By stamping the incantation directly onto He Lingchuan’s wrist, He Chunhua had eliminated the need to recite it word by word before it could take effect.

Reciting the full passage would normally take at least forty breaths.

His son’s martial strength had grown far too quickly and had already become overwhelmingly superior to his own. He Chunhua had feared he would never get the chance to finish the incantation in front of him, so he had found another way.

Simply put, he had bypassed the cumbersome summoning ritual.

“This is the divine language used to summon Naluotian!” He Chunhua turned over his palm, revealing a small idol. Blood stained the idol, as he had secretly cut his own palm and smeared it onto the object. “This is different from what Sun Fuping used. I don’t need to recite anything. As long as I imprint the incantation onto your body, it activates on its own!”

The ritual for Naluotian’s divine descent had already begun!

Everything He Chunhua had done earlier to stall for time had been to give the incantation enough time to take effect!

They were getting closer and closer to their destination, while the aberrant creatures were pursuing them ever more fiercely, and some unknown leader was still lurking somewhere nearby. He had to summon Naluotian before anything else happened! That was his ultimate trump card for seizing the Generous Pot and escaping the Panlong Ruins alive.

He had long since realized that the dangers in this place were far beyond anything human strength could overcome. Only the power of a heavenly god could help him break this deadlock!

“You’ve certainly gone to extraordinary lengths.” He Lingchuan did not fly into a rage as He Chunhua had expected. Instead, he looked at him with genuine sorrow. “You’re offering your own flesh and blood as a sacrifice to a god. Don’t you feel even the slightest guilt?”

Those words came straight from the heart.

Because ever since the original He Lingchuan had learned the truth, this was the one question that had haunted him constantly!

If it was not asked face-to-face, that lingering grievance would never settle!

Even Zhong Shengguang, who had once sacrificed his own daughter for the sake of Panlong City, had thereafter endured the torment of his conscience day and night.

What about He Chunhua? What did he truly think?