Chapter 143: Suppressing Artifact: The Witchcraft Jujube Wood Effigy of Jiang Chong, Commandant of the Waterways

Carpenter Chen gripped his LuBan ruler, blocking a blow for his companion Zhou the Altar Child, and hurriedly shouted:

"Stop! What kind of people are you? Why are you sticking your necks out for Wang Fugui, a mere hundred-man commander of the Great Da? There must be some misunderstanding here!"

He had wrung his brain dry, yet could not fathom how a hereditary centurion with a spotless background dossier, completely unconnected to Yingzhou, could land ashore only to find so many local, powerhouse reinforcements.

The monk, whose secret arts had transformed him into a Vajra Warrior, grinned hideously:

"What kind of people we are is not for a fish on your chopping board to know. Prepare to die, Buddha-slayer!"

Every punch swung down like a tremendously heavy subjugation pestle, shattering vegetation and splitting boulders.

Although all of them belonged to the mid-third-tier official ranks, having cultivated to the state of consuming qi and dining on rosy clouds while igniting the five sacred temples within their bodies, what truly decided victory or defeat were their various unique skills and heterodox arts, rather than a simple comparison of ranks.

It did not necessarily follow that whoever had the higher rank or had ignited more viscera temples would be stronger. Besides, the bald donkey was living his second life, and his combat experience was far beyond what they could match.

The monk shoved a piece of highly nourishing donkey-hide gelatin into his mouth. His bodily qi and blood surged, operating at full firepower in a wild, earth-shattering bombardment.

Hearing the exact same reply he had given when mocking Wang Fugui, Carpenter Chen’s face turned alternating shades of blue and white. Driven to fury by his humiliation, he roared:

"Wooden Oxen and Flowing Horses, activate!"

Waving his hand, he scattered a handful of wooden blocks from his sleeves. They grew instantly against the wind upon reaching the air, rapidly transforming into a pack of wooden cattle and horses taller than a man.

Carved by the carpenter himself from ash, jujube, pear, and greenwood with utmost sincerity, equipped with painted fur and coats, each beast had its anus meticulously drawn; a single lash of the whip against the rear would set them into motion.

Moo! Moo! Moo!

As the whip cracked, the wooden oxen and flowing horses formed a formation, stampeding toward the "bronze man."

Although countless woodchips and shattered parts flew instantly, this successfully brought the monk's onslaught to a halt.

Behind him, the Altar Child seized the moment to launch a counterattack.

He unhooked the largest black pottery urn of ashes from his body and jerked off the lid.

Inside was a liquid of unknown origin— amniotic or bloody—emitting a heavy, fishy stench. Instantly, wailing infant cries filled the battlefield.

The liquid within the urn churned, and countless crimson umbilical cords burst forth from it, slithering to entangle the monk.

A crying voice at the ear chanted a piece of truly happened history:

"...Those who give birth to many children, by the fourth child generally do not raise them, for their property is insufficient to support them; if female, they do not wait for the third. Often, as childbirth approaches, they store water and drown them, calling it 'washing the infant,' especially severe in Jianjian..."

This was shockingly an evil entity that had reached the mid-third-tier realm—[Drowning Infants Born Unwanted]!

Anchored to a tragic period in the Zhao Song era, when ordinary people, unable to pay the poll tax or support their own offspring, drowned their young children.

The condensed grievances of countless drowned infants filled this malevolent entity with hatred for all adults who managed to survive to adulthood. Anyone ordinary encountering it would surely die without a doubt.

Countless umbilical cords merged with the wooden oxen and flowing horses, halting the monk's offensive by sheer force.

However, the two hundred elite personal guards forming a neat skirmish line on the perimeter kept up a steady volley of sniper fire, trapping them dead in this spot with no hope of escape.

At that moment, Wang Cheng, positioned at the edge of the battlefield, easily dispatched the wooden lad.

Flashes of wind and thunder qi flickered. Garbed in a purple Daoist robe, the rumbling avatar made a casual grab, and the wooden lad collapsed instantly like a corpse, falling powerlessly into its palm.

With a forceful squeeze, the malevolent charm shrieked miserably and burned into a lump of charred cinders.

"Ah—!"

Carpenter Chen, currently locked in combat with the monk, was immediately struck by the karmic backlash of his cursing art. He violently vomited a mouthful of blackened blood, his complexion shifting drastically.

"Not good! I've missed the mark again! That brat Wang Fugui and the Heir Apparent of Jinghai both have ghosts protecting them!"

Sorcery arts were secretive and immensely powerful; top-tier nobles and consorts in the inner palace could easily fall victim and die miserably if careless.

Yet as a representative of heterodox paths, once the art was broken, the consequences were exceptionally disastrous.

At that moment, Carpenter Chen felt his body stiffen; his hands and feet seemed to have turned into wooden parts, moving with a noticeable lag.

Deep down, profound doubt arose regarding his own temperamental unique skills.

***

That was not all. Sensing danger, the cat-faced old hag tiptoeing toward Wang Cheng had barely turned to flee when Wang Cheng closed the distance with a lunge, pursuing her from behind.

"Die!"

His breathing rhythm shifted abruptly. Wielding the Qilin Shangfang Mace, he whipped up wind and thunder, launching a simultaneous flank attack against her waist.

Thirty-Six Routes of the Thunder God's Cloaking Mace: Jade Belt Wrapping the Waist!

Bang!

Lightning burst violently. Zhou the Altar Child's natal spiritual ghost exploded on the spot into a foul-smelling pall of Yin qi.

Even as the flock of cat-faced curses left behind by the slain spiritual ghost automatically targeted Wang Cheng, they rapidly melted away like ice in the surging lightning radiating from his body.

This Altar Child had likewise attempted to steal a chicken only to lose the rice he used as bait, hoping to devour Wang Cheng's Daoist cultivation to nourish his ghost, yet inadvertently exposing his own fatal weakness.

He could not help but follow Carpenter Chen in vomiting blood.

Once his vital breath plummeted, even the malevolent entity kept in his urn began struggling fiercely to bite back at its master, a significant portion of the umbilical cords coiling around the Altar Child himself.

"Prime opportunity!"

Wang Cheng's eyes lit up. Planting his feet apart in a horse stance, his body suddenly swelled a fraction. Holding the mace in one hand, his upper body bent backward like a drawn bow.

The qi of wind and thunder turned primal, swirling around his sides.

In an instant, the formless thunder force dragged and pulled everything around him. Even the dark mist and Yin qi that had yet to fully dissipate shifted three inches toward the Qilin Shangfang Mace.

It felt as though the immense might of heaven and earth had been imbued into it.

Beyond the mid-third-tier, the destructive power of various unique skills and heterodox arts wielded by officials gradually transcended the mortal realm, making the state of "Heaven and Humanity as One" increasingly crucial.

The human body is a small universe; the world is a great universe.

Divine path officials cultivated only spiritual nature and not physical destiny, implying that human beings possessed a visible upper limit. Without borrowing the unity of Heaven and Man to commune with the cosmos, how could one wield world-shaking might?

The higher the realm of "Heaven and Humanity as One," the stronger the compatibility between the official and Dao qi, allowing extraordinary feats with every lift of a hand or movement of a foot.

Boom!

With a thunderous explosion, the wind and thunder qi exhaled from Wang Cheng's palm, and a dazzling, blinding sliver of silver edge fiercely crushed everything in its path, shooting outward.

The air between Wang Cheng and the main battlefield blasted open a massive crater.

The Unity of Technique and Martial Art: [Dropping the Mace Strike·Thunder God's Chisel Teeth]!

At this moment, both the carpenter and the Altar Child had fallen into negative statuses, making movement difficult. Sensing the terrifying, penal pressure reminiscent of heavenly thunder tribulation, their complexions altered drastically.

The former frantically drove the LuBan ruler in his hand, attempting to deflect the attack.

The latter spat a large mouthful of blood into the urn, using his own body as a sacrifice to appease the drowned infant ghost, forcibly controlling the countless umbilical cords to shield his front.

At that very moment, a gleaming silver heavy mace cleaved down from overhead!

Enveloped in rolling turbulent electrical currents, the heavy mace looked from afar like a falling thunder dragon crashing fiercely into the formation.

Visible shockwaves of wind and thunder qi crushed everything before them; the wild Buddhist stone statues shattered into fragments, and the ground was forcefully torn open by a deep gouge.

Almost in an instant, the fissure spread from beneath Wang Cheng's feet right up to the pair.

Sweating profusely, Carpenter Chen illuminated the "Li" character on his LuBan ruler, chanting a mnemonic inscribed upon it:

"The character Li at the lintel bodes ill, son south, father north, parting ways. The bedroom door surely brings separation, husband and wife grieve in different places! By decree!"

He was forcibly borrowing the treasure to open a crude ritual arena.

Just as husband and wife are birds of the same forest, flying apart when disaster strikes, the heavy mace originally aimed at him suddenly veered off, crashing instead toward Zhou the Altar Child behind him.

The latter had nowhere to hide and could only grit his teeth to endure it head-on.

Boom—!!!

Flesh and blood splattered, and dust soared into the heavens.

As the black-red bloody mist mixed with dust slightly dispersed, the entire upper body of the Altar Child had vanished entirely.

Only the lower half of his body, connected to his legs, remained, collapsing lifelessly to the ground.

***

"Hisss—!"

The group of elite personal guards who had failed to intervene drew in a sharp breath of cold air.

"This is the finishing move of the Thunder God's Cloaking Mace, [Thunder God's Chisel Teeth]!

Back then, the old shipmaster used this exact technique to slay Xu Hai in the East China Sea. It is simply too powerful!"

Engaged in his first real combat, Wang Cheng had not anticipated that his full-strength execution would yield such astonishing might, literally blasting a living human to smithereens.

It must be said that the [Thirty-Six Routes of the Thunder God's Cloaking Mace] was indeed best suited for a yang-bound body.

Not only did it come with the accompanying wind and thunder qi, but it also paired with his newly acquired innate anomaly, [Yin-Yang Hands].

Thunder arts served as the pivot of heaven and earth and the creation of yin and yang, standing precisely as one of the most compatible techniques for the [Yin-Yang Hands]. One yin and one yang inherently carried passive bonuses.

Wang Cheng's comprehension of this mace technique surpassed even so-called geniuses like Mao Haifeng.

A single bout of full-scale combat gave Wang Cheng the feeling that he had gained some insights into innovating upon the art—though part of that was certainly tied to his massive distribution of [Gratitude Loans] over the past two days.

Even so, the consumption was not light. His spiritual light grew dim, and his complexion turned somewhat pale.

"Executing this move at full strength is currently limited to once a day. Afterward, my combat effectiveness is halved; I must exercise caution."

Simultaneously, the young monk grabbed Carpenter Chen—whose face was covered in his companion's blood and who stood frozen in shock—and bound him securely.

The dragon robe and python gown billowed around Wang Cheng as he drifted lightly to the ground beside a patch of minced flesh.

With a flick of his hand, the radiant, dust-free treasure mace automatically leaped up and settled into his palm.

The [Qilin Shangfang Mace] was, after all, a divine weapon wielded by an upper-third-tier living ghost-god like the Prince of Kaiping, and naturally possessed supernatural traits.

Not only was it immensely sturdy and capable of subduing demons and ghosts, but it could also expand or shrink with the user's physique, its weight fluctuating accordingly—becoming as light and fine as an ox hair or as heavy as over a thousand catties.

"Young Shipmaster, you told me to capture a live prisoner, so how did you manage to smash this guy everywhere? He's shattered into pieces like this, you can't even sweep him up."

Hearing the monk's complaint, Wang Cheng hastily apologized:

"It's my first actual combat, so my hand slipped a bit.

Didn't I leave the most important one behind? That's more than enough."

As the commander of the personal guards, the monk had already been informed in advance of the relationship between Wang Cheng and Wang Fugui.

Reverting to his youthful, rosy-lipped and white-toothed appearance, he pulled a dark-red gelatinous substance from his pocket and handed it to you:

"Your constitution is a bit fragile; care for some donkey-hide gelatin refined from mid-third-tier great yao beasts?

Every year among the monks receiving ordination at Zhaojue Temple, a novice head and novice tail are chosen. Who knows how many handsome monks have been accumulated over the years, while pretty female lay patrons only number so many.

My performance rating among all the novice heads and tails has remained far ahead entirely thanks to this treasure. Just a tiny bit will immediately restore you to a true stallion.

Care to try? As long as you call me Master."

Recalling the origins of this batch of donkey-hide gelatin, Wang Cheng politely declined:

"Forget it, you'd better eat it yourself. I just need to rest a bit."

The true form of the donkey great yao beast hailing from Dong'e County had not gone to waste after its death in battle. It had been personally skinned and deboned by him, then simmered using ancestral craft into authentic Dong'e donkey-hide gelatin, far more nourishing than tens of thousands of ocean delicacies.

It had specialized miraculous effects particularly for kidney deficiency and depleted essence and blood; "vigorous and fierce" was an understatement.

Using the original broth to cook the original ingredient, eating oneself—he had to admit this bald donkey was indeed a ruthless character.

Once the dust settled, Wang Cheng casually opened the mother-of-pearl box.

A surge of dark-red, ominous treasure light soared into the heavens, instantly casting a gloomy pall over the sky.

[Rare Commodity: Sorcery Paulownia Wood Figurine, the crucial treasure used by embroidery envoys and water-balance commandants under Emperor Wu of the Han dynasty to frame Crown Prince Liu Ju for treason.

Specially restrains crown princes and heirs apparent...]