Ze Tian Ji Chapter 394

Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

Zhu Luo was one of the Storms of the Eight Directions and rarely appeared before the common people, but today, he had to come. In addition, the fact of the matter was that his appearance was not at all a surprise to Wang Po or these cultivators in Xunyang City. What sort of person was Su Li? In order to kill him, Black Robe had not hesitated to weave the Garden of Zhou into his plot and the demons had arrayed a massive force in the wastelands in front of Xuelao City. Now the human world similarly wanted to kill him, so how could those random assassins and Xue He and Liang Hongzhuang, this sort of class of expert, possibly be enough?

Even after adding on these several hundred cultivators in Xunyang City, as well as Wang Po, Xiao Zhang, and Liang Wangsun, these strongest members of their generation, it still would not be enough. Whether to send him off or treat his soul, when a historic event like the death of Su Li was concerned, even if Saints like the Divine Empress and the Pope could not appear, the Storms of the Eight Directions had to be on the scene no matter what.

The godlike Zhu Luo had descended from the heavens, to come to this noisy and disorderly secular world and appear in Xunyang City on the end of the long street, for precisely this reason: he had come to kill Su Li. Thinking about that pavilion outside the forest on the outskirts of Hanqiu City, remembering the transcendent figure of that man with his long hair trailing over his shoulders, Chen Changsheng felt very unwell. But when he heard Su Li’s words, he understood. They were all people that lived in the world. How could there possibly exist such transcendent figures who dined in the wind and slept with the stars, who did not consume the food of regular mortals?

Since they were worldly people, they would inevitably do terrible things, whether on their own volition or by force. Chen Changsheng silently looked at Zhu Luo’s indifferent face and remembered something Tang Thirty-Six had once said under the Orthodox Academy’s banyan tree. There is no person whose moral character will improve with age. In the vast majority of cases, a young sucker would turn into an old sucker—old bastards, old suckers. These were all filthy words, but when said at this moment, they seemed to have much more substance. Chen Changsheng would not say these profane words, but when he looked down the street at Zhu Luo, he couldn’t help but think about them.

His feeling was not wrong. The present Zhu Luo was no longer that transcendent figure under the pavilion, cold and elusive, nor was he that human brave who, several hundred years ago under the light of the moon, slew the second-ranked Demon General in one strike. The present Zhu Luo was a leader of an aristocratic family, a powerful influence in the Great Zhou, an expert of the continent, and a man. A normal man.

A normal man who could kill another for his own self-interest.

After Wang Po finished his bow, he calmly stood in front of Su Li and Chen Changsheng. He said nothing and did nothing, so naturally he also had no intention of giving way. He hadn’t even sheathed the blade in his hand. To face this member of the Eight Storms whose generation, status, and strength was far above his with such silence and inaction was very disrespectful.

Zhu Luo said to him, “I didn’t want to appear, but you forced me to.”

This was talking about Wang Po’s seemingly calm, but actually crazed, blade strike which, by paying a disastrous price in the future, had heavily injured Xiao Zhang and Liang Wangsun. Afterwards, it had continuously broken through Xunyang’s crowd of heroes and was about to take Su Li out of the city before everyone’s eyes. If Zhu Luo had not appeared, perhaps Wang Po really could have gone against the general trend of the human world and helped Su Li survive.

Given Zhu Luo’s status in the human world, these words he said to Wang Po were extremely high recognition, even though he said the words without the slightest expression on his face. Of course, recognition was not praise, let alone appreciation. To be more precise, Zhu Luo used these words to clearly and unhappily indicate to Wang Po what he had appreciated and not appreciated.

Saying these words, he turned to Chen Changsheng and yelled, “His Holiness is in the Li Palace, sick in the heart and deeply worried. Your teachers and friends are concerned for your safety, and millions of people in the capital are praying for you, hoping that you are alive. It turns out that you’re alive, but you’ve delayed so long on the road. Just what are you thinking about? Don’t tell me you don’t plan to go back?”

Compared to the tone he had when speaking to Wang Po, Zhu Luo’s tone was even more discourteous. Although Chen Changsheng was the Principal of the Orthodox Academy, he was still too young. Moreover, through Mei Lisha, he felt that he truly was Chen Changsheng’s elder, so he was naturally somewhat harsh. The last sentence was actually very close to lecturing and scolding.

Chen Changsheng said nothing, but it wasn’t because he didn’t have the face to see his teachers in the capital, nor was it because he felt shame from the lecturing of his elder. Rather, he was still very angry and thought that if he opened his mouth to refute, it would seem like he wasn’t giving proper respect to his senior. Wang Po also said nothing because he felt that there was no need to say anything. He required no one’s appreciation, even if that person was Zhu Luo.

The street was completely silent. No one dared to say anything.

From the moment Zhu Luo appeared, besides Su Li’s carefree voice, the entirety of Xunyang City could only hear Zhu Luo’s voice. The Storms of the Eight Directions were supreme experts, not just in Xunyang City but the entire continent, so even when he spoke indifferently, his voice still rumbled like the spring thunder. The entire world absolutely had to carefully listen. Yet this was to say nothing of the fact that his appearance today on this street in Xunyang City also represented the collective will of the Great Zhou Imperial Court. He who had a close relationship to the Chen Imperial clan had clearly long since reached some sort of agreement with the Divine Empress and the Orthodoxy.

The Divine Empress, the Li Palace, and Zhu Luo—these were the three great mountains of the Great Zhou Dynasty. In the mountains where Chen Changsheng had grown up, there were some young pines that, because of their position, received great respect and status. But now, he wanted to resist the will of this great mountain at his feet while at the same time resisting the shadow of another great mountain. Just what could he do?

He looked at Wang Po. As Wang Po’s tall and thin body lightly rocked in the chilly wind, he really did seem like a healthy and sturdy pine. It still had not grown thick enough that it could resist a bolt of lightning, but at the very least, it would not be blown about every which way and deformed by the wind. Zhu Luo had come, but he did not fall on his knees, did not give way, and did not retreat. His head was slightly lowered by the wind as he silently thought about something.

And yet, these things had no meaning.

He was the supreme expert of the Middle generation and top of the Proclamation of Liberation, but he could not possibly measure up to Zhu Luo.

Zhu Luo was a Storm of the Eight Directions, a person that had already stepped into the Divine Domain.

In the present Xunyang City, and in the entire continent, there was only one person besides them that dared to directly stare at, or even ignore, the Five Saints and the Storms of the Eight Directions.

Su Li made no attempt to conceal his disdain and scorn. “Is the only thing you old farts can do now to scare children?”

This was speaking of the difference in the two sentences Zhu Luo had said to Wang Po and Chen Changsheng. Not waiting for Zhu Luo’s reply, Su Li perked his eyebrows and he said a few more words.

“I know that you lot really want me dead…you’ve wanted me dead for many years now, no matter if it’s the Divination Elder or you. This is because even when I was really young, you lot already couldn’t kill me, so you wanted to kill me even more. On a similar basis, I think that you actually really want Wang Po to attack, so then you have a good pretext to kill him?”

These words were very critical, so the entire street was very quiet.

The crowd could only pretend that they had not heard these words, and even Wang Po himself did not show any reaction.

Zhu Luo was expressionless and said nothing.

“As I got stronger and stronger, you wanted me dead more and more.”

Su Li sighed, “Tianhai, the Bai Xingye couple, you eight old good-for-nothings, and now even Old man Yin wants me dead…”

The Five Saints and the Storms of the Eight Directions: besides Su Li, this continent had thirteen supreme experts.

At this point, he had counted twelve names. He accused these godlike existences of attempting to assassinate him.

“I’m not at all in a bad mood, because I’ve never had any interest in standing together with you guys in the Divine Kingdom.”

He curled his lip and finally said, “It’s just that I’m a bit regretful. Back then, I should just have killed off you eight good-for-nothings and saved the discussion for later.”