Chapter 43: Transmission of the Dharma in a Dream

"It's truly freezing."

The wind and snow were gradually subsiding.

With his neck hunched and wrapped tightly in his padded coat, Su Chen led little Xuanzi out of the Imperial Academy of Medicine to collect some discarded medicinal herbs, preparing to head back to the pharmacy.

"They say it happened in a flash! Three First-Rank experts invaded, trespassing into the Imperial Palace with the intent to assassinate His Majesty! Upon hearing the news, Eunuch Su traveled thousands of miles in a frantic dash to arrive, and naturally, he struck!"

"Before he rose to prominence, he once received great kindness from His Majesty, who was then but a young child. Thus, he acted! The vast snowstorm transformed into a single sword strike, leaving one First-Rank expert dead and two others heavily wounded!"

"If not for that Great Zhou Butcher and the leader of the evil cult constantly kneeling and kowtowing, begging His Majesty for mercy, would our Eunuch Su have spared their wretched lives?"

In the distance.

A certain eunuch in green robes was recounting that night with an impassioned tone, as if he had witnessed it with his own eyes.

Gathered around him were over a dozen small eunuchs in black. Hearing the thrilling parts, they occasionally gasped in awe, completely mesmerized.

"The deeds of Eunuch Su!"

Little Xuanzi cried out in surprise and immediately ran over to listen.

For the past few days, the whole world had been abuzz with the news of that earth-shattering battle at the peak of the Forbidden City.

At the summit of the Forbidden City.

A guest in black under the moon, a Grandmaster of the wind and snow, single-handedly swept through three minor Grandmasters.

However, the rumors were becoming increasingly hyperbolic.

Su Chen grumbled inwardly.

Since when had he received any kindness from the young Emperor?

Furthermore, he had drawn those three First-Rank experts into battle to digest medicinal power and accelerate the cleansing of his five viscera; what did that have to do with the young Emperor?

That night, if he hadn't failed to find the young Emperor, Su Chen would have certainly made him taste the edge of his Great Sword of Wind and Snow.

"See? Number one on the Martial Rankings, and simultaneously number one on the Profound Rankings! To ascend as the world's number one with only Second-Rank viscera—only our Great Liang's Eunuch Su can do such a thing!"

"All the First-Rank experts in the world are but mere flies and rats; only our Eunuch Su is a true hero!"

The green-robed eunuch boasted with all his might.

Speaking of which, this Martial Ranking was also known as the "Praise-to-Kill List." It was a concept proposed by Su Chen himself, specifically designed to incite infighting and slaughter among the great sects and First-Rank experts of the martial world.

Su Chen never expected that one day, this very list would be used against him.

"You've got it wrong."

"That night, I saw Eunuch Su with surging blood and resonating bones, treading through the snow with ill intent, heading toward the Imperial Study. He didn't seem like someone basking in His Majesty's great kindness..."

Su Chen spoke up.

If this continued, he would soon be branded as the young Emperor's number one lackey, and he certainly didn't have a benevolent relationship with the boy.

In an instant.

The green-robed eunuch glanced at Su Chen's black robes and the herbs he was carrying. A look of contempt crossed his face. He spat on the ground and drove him away.

"You saw wrong. Eunuch Su was surely going to report to His Majesty."

"You're just a black-robed eunuch from the pharmacy—what the hell do you know about Eunuch Su!"

"Get lost."

"Or I'll have the Imperial Guards come teach you a lesson."

Good grief.

Even the man himself understood him less than this stranger did.

If it weren't for the fear of exposing his identity, Su Chen really wanted to strike him with a sword.

Su Chen walked away, cursing under his breath.

At this moment.

Su Chen realized something.

This young Emperor was using him—praising him to death while simultaneously borrowing his prestige to consolidate his imperial authority within the palace and throughout the realm.

After all, if a future Grandmaster eunuch was his lackey, who would dare provoke the young Emperor?

But, did this young Emperor not fear offending Su Chen!

It seemed he had already offended him.

Then it was fine.

"Who did I even provoke?"

The Imperial Palace was a chaotic mess. Su Chen returned to the pharmacy and, sitting by the warm stove, did not venture out again.

He had stepped into the Second-Rank Viscera stage.

For some reason, his head felt increasingly heavy, and he grew drowsy. Before long, he drifted into a dream once more.

In the dream, he encountered that white-robed sword immortal again. The man was drinking tea; he set down his sword and looked toward Su Chen.

"Do you practice the sword?"

Boom!

At that moment, Su Chen jolted awake.

His eyes froze.

Twice!

The same dream!

Something was wrong.

"With my Second-Rank Viscera realm, I could go three days and nights without sleep without issue. Why have I fallen into this inexplicable dream twice in a row? What is going on?"

A sensation of heat flared in his chest.

Su Chen reached into his robes and felt something scalding hot.

The Wordless Book.

At this moment.

The Wordless Book, which had come from the arms of the old man in purple robes, had two pages self-combust without fire. Only the final page remained.

When he had first taken the Wordless Book from the manager of the Funeral Hall, Su Chen had scanned it carefully; out of nine pages, six were damaged, leaving three.

Now, only the last page remained.

"There's a problem."

Su Chen lay on his reclining chair, trying to calm his mind. The heavy drowsiness struck again, and he fell back into the dream, seeing the white-robed sword immortal once more.

However, this time, the white-robed sword immortal seemed quite exasperated.

"Are you going to practice it or not?"

"My Sword Fate Pages were not meant to be wasted like this!"

Sword Fate Pages?

The term felt familiar to Su Chen, as if he had seen it in some ancient text within the Library of Books.

This dream seemed to be an opportunity.

As Su Chen was pondering, the white-robed sword immortal, whose face remained obscured, grew impatient. Regardless of Su Chen's consent, he began to transmit the technique directly.

"Even among the prodigies of martial arts, there are hierarchies. In my view, comprehension is distinguished by the potential of the nine pages."

"The last time a page burned and allowed me to transmit techniques through a dream, it was a young man in purple robes."

"Regrettably, with his talent, progressing one page per advancement was his limit. I transmitted to him the vast snowstorm to help him catch a glimpse of the Grandmaster realm."

"You can advance three times across three pages; your talent is decent, far surpassing the brat I met over three hundred years ago who called himself the Emperor of Liang. He only managed two advancements across two pages."

"Three pages of fate, manifesting this single sword. This is the true intent of the sword I comprehended when I was a mortal Grandmaster. With your talent, perhaps upon entering the Houtian realm, you can grasp thirty percent of its essence and traverse the world."

Having spoken, the white-robed sword immortal swung a single strike. In an instant, it was as if thousands of sword shadows blotted out the sun. Within this single strike, there seemed to be a thousand variations of a sword, yet it also appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary slash.

Su Chen was momentarily dazed.

"Heh! Can't understand it?"

"Ignorant."

"It seems it is indeed only three pages of comprehension. That is normal. Once you step into the Houtian realm, come back and reflect on this sword. Use that thirty percent to traverse the world."

The white-robed sword immortal seemed to let out a cold sneer. With a flick of his sleeve, he expelled Su Chen from the dream.

"Go."

Boom!

The next instant.

Su Chen woke up and looked around. He was still in front of the stove on his reclining chair. Beside his hand, the tea little Xuanzi had brewed for him was still hot, sending up wisps of steam.

Everything just now felt like a fleeting illusion.

"Was it a dream?"

Su Chen stood up, casually picked up a fire poker from beside the stove, and walked out of the pharmacy.

He closed his eyes, recalling everything from the dream.

In a moment of intense focus, he surged his blood and Qi, swinging his hand in a strike.

Utterly ordinary!

*Crack!*

Not a single phenomenon appeared. Instead, the fire poker in his hand could not withstand his surging blood and Qi; it exploded with a loud bang, covered in countless cracks.

"Master, what happened?"

Little Xuanzi, who was tidying up medicinal herbs, poked his head out to look upon hearing the noise.

"It's nothing."

"Just a boring, illusory dream."

Su Chen chuckled, tossed the fire poker aside, and walked back into the room. He was truly being silly, actually treating that ridiculous dream as reality.

The next instant.

Ice and snow began to melt. From a tree branch, a single drop of meltwater fell toward the courtyard.

In a flash.

Several blood-and-Qi sword shadows appeared out of thin air, roaring like a gale, slicing that single drop of water into thousands of microscopic pieces, rendering it virtually undetectable.

This strike did not require waiting until he reached the Houtian realm; even now, at the Second-Rank, Su Chen's execution already possessed seventy percent of its essence.

Inside the Imperial Palace, in the Imperial Study.

"Roar!"

The white-robed man, who was conversing with the young Emperor, suddenly stood up like a startled beast, letting out a roar. Every hair on his body stood on end. He retreated several steps, looking toward the south with profound confusion and alarm.

In that direction lay the pharmacy.

"Master Chu, what is it?"

The young Emperor asked.

"It is nothing."

"I just felt a trace of microscopic sword Qi just now. But the 'microscopic' path is the way of a Houtian Grandmaster. Never mind this Imperial Palace—even in the entire Nine Prefectures, there is not a single Grandmaster..."

"Your father was a Great Demon. Even when he was a Grandmaster and nearing the end of his lifespan, he never reached the microscopic realm..."

"It must have been my illusion."

The white-robed man revealed his face—a terrifying visage that was half-demon and half-human.