PFC Chapter 309 The Agreement
Chapter 309 The Agreement
Deep within the Xuantian Sect lies a celestial palace on a cloud platform.
Despite being called a celestial palace, it is actually just a simple stone pavilion perched atop a solitary peak thousands of feet high.
The surrounding sea of clouds surged like waves, and occasionally a crane would fly by, leaving behind a clear and melodious cry.
The two sat facing each other in the stone pavilion.
The man had white hair and beard, a gaunt face, and wore a moon-white Taoist robe. His aura was as peaceful as an ancient well or deep pool.
It was none other than Nangong Cheng, the most senior elder of the Xuantian Sect.
The other man was much more casual, wearing a drab linen robe, with a gourd of wine hanging from his waist, and holding a black chess piece in his hand, staring at the chessboard with a furrowed brow in deep thought.
Xia Gucheng.
The sea of clouds surged, and the wind blew past the corner of the pavilion.
Nangong Cheng picked up his teacup, took a sip, and smiled, "Brother Xia, you've been thinking about this move for the past incense stick's time."
Xia Gucheng frowned, staring at the chessboard as if he were facing a mortal enemy.
"What's the rush?" he muttered. "You have to figure out chess slowly."
"Pondering?" Nangong Cheng stroked his beard and smiled.
"We've known each other for a hundred years, but your chess skills have always remained at the level of 'being able to place the pieces on the chessboard.' No matter how hard you try, you'll still lose."
Xia Gucheng looked up and glared at him: "Stop talking nonsense."
Nangong Cheng shook his head, his gaze fixed on the sea of clouds outside the pavilion, his voice gradually deepening:
Have you noticed any movements of the demons these past few days?
Xia Gucheng paused slightly in the hand holding the chess piece.
"No."
He said calmly, "Within a radius of three hundred miles, no movement can escape my senses. If any demons were approaching, I would have noticed them long ago."
Nangong Cheng nodded, but did not reply.
The pavilion fell silent for a moment, with only the occasional crisp sound of chess pieces falling onto the chessboard.
a long time.
Nangong Cheng suddenly sighed, "I watched Shaotian grow up..."
"Twenty-seven years ago, when Murong Yan brought him back to the sect, he was only this small."
Nangong Cheng made a gesture, "Back then, I was just a baby in swaddling clothes, with my big, dark eyes wide open. I didn't cry or fuss; I just looked at me like that."
"As he grew up, he was impeccable in everything he did: studying, practicing martial arts, and interacting with others."
He paused, a complex emotion creeping into his voice: "I can't imagine he could be a demon spy... Do you think Wudao might have misunderstood...?"
Xia Gucheng took a swig of wine and said calmly, "Won't we find out on the day of the investiture ceremony?"
Nangong Cheng was taken aback by his bluntness, and looked at him with a wry smile:
"Can't you say something nice? At least try to comfort this old man."
What's the use of comforting someone?
Xia Gucheng picked up a chess piece and continued staring at the chessboard. "It is or it isn't. Time will tell."
Nangong Cheng shook his head and chuckled.
He's straightforward and efficient; no wonder he can manage a place like Tingxuelou.
"Fine."
Nangong Cheng looked back at the chessboard. "Instead of thinking about all that, let's finish this game first."
He dropped a piece.
"Snapped."
After the crisp sound, Xia Gucheng's expression changed slightly.
Nangong Cheng clapped his hands and laughed: "Brother Xia, if you take this step, the great dragon on your left will be slaughtered."
Xia Gucheng stared at the chessboard, his expression growing increasingly grim.
The black dragon, winding and coiled, occupied most of the left side of the landscape, and seemed to have victory in its grasp.
But Nangong Cheng's move with the white piece was like a sharp knife, piercing straight into the heart of the black dragon!
There was nowhere to go, forward, backward, left, or right.
A four-faced song.
Within ten steps, you will surely be slain by dragon.
“This…” Xia Gucheng’s brows furrowed into a knot. “Wait, I didn’t see it clearly just now.”
He reached out to take the chess piece that had just been placed.
Nangong Cheng reacted quickly, grabbing his hand in one swift motion:
"Hey hey hey—once a move is made, there's no going back, Brother Xia."
"Don't regret it for even one step."
Not even one step.
Nangong Cheng was both amused and exasperated: "Brother Xia, you are the master of Tingxuelou, a figure feared by countless cultivators in the Eastern Wilderness. If people find out you took back your move in chess, wouldn't you lose face?"
Xia Gucheng snorted coldly: "Who saw me take back my move?"
"I saw it."
"So what if you saw it? Do you dare tell anyone?"
Nangong Cheng stroked his beard and laughed loudly: "Hahahaha... Brother Xia, Brother Xia, that's all you've got."
Xia Gucheng ignored him, stared at the chessboard for a long time, and finally sighed resignedly.
"I'm not playing anymore." He threw the chess piece onto the board. "This piece of junk, let whoever wants to play it play."
"You've given up?"
"Admit defeat."
Nangong Cheng laughed even more heartily.
He was no match for his old friend in martial arts, but he could only win in chess.
He picked up his teacup, preparing to moisten his throat.
Suddenly, his face turned pale!
The hand holding the tea trembled violently!
"pat-"
The teacup shattered on the chessboard, splashing tea everywhere and soaking the crisscrossing chess squares.
Immediately afterwards, Nangong Cheng's emaciated figure swayed, and a mouthful of black blood spilled from the corner of his mouth!
"Your life is slipping away..."
Xia Gucheng's expression changed drastically, and he abruptly stood up.
He flipped his hand and took out a jade box, inside which lay a purplish-blue pill, exuding a fragrant aroma, and a trace of life essence flowing out.
This is a life-extending elixir he has treasured for many years, enough to extend the life of a person on the verge of death by three years!
Nangong Cheng waved his hand, stopping him.
He took a deep breath, slowly sat up straight, and took out a handkerchief to wipe the black blood from the corner of his mouth.
"Brother Xia, there's no need to waste it."
He gave a wry smile. "I know my own body best. Ordinary life-extending remedies are no longer of any use to me."
Xia Gucheng frowned, stared at him for a long time, and said in a deep voice, "How much time is left?"
Nangong Cheng smiled and said casually, "Three to five years shouldn't be a problem."
Xia Gucheng remained silent.
Three thousand years of cultivation, three thousand years of life, ultimately cannot withstand the cycle of Heaven's will.
When qi and blood are depleted and vitality is exhausted, it is something that no elixir can reverse.
Unless there's an elixir of immortality...
Such celestial medicines are extremely rare; there are only a handful found in the entire Primordial Continent. They cannot be described as mere rare treasures.
Even transcendent powers like holy lands might not have it.
"Brother Xia, you need not feel sad for me."
Nangong Cheng chuckled and said quite frankly:
"Who in this world can escape death? No matter how outstanding or brilliant you are, in the end you will be nothing more than a handful of dust."
Even the ancient emperors who vied for supremacy and suppressed an era, those exceptionally talented figures, could not escape death, could they?
Xia Gucheng was stunned, unsure how to respond.
"If it weren't for my concern for the sect..."
Nangong Cheng gazed at the sea of clouds outside the pavilion, his eyes distant, and said, "I should have died long ago."
The sea of clouds surged, just like three thousand years, seemingly distant, but in reality, it passed in the blink of an eye.
He paused, then looked away from Xia Gucheng:
"Brother Xia, don't forget our promise."