Chapter 76: Movement and Stillness

Duan Lingqi was not foolish; he understood that if he let his murderous intent show now, it would be as laughable as an ant waving its antennae, attempting to slay an elephant. It was not he who could kill the Second Prince of the Vast Sea before him, but rather this Second Prince who, like crushing a tiny shrimp, could snuff out his life with ease.

Curling his back like a shrimp, Duan Lingqi fought with all his might to suppress the sudden surge of killing intent while bowing deeply, head lowered, in a show of respect and fear.

Ao Chi sat upon the golden lacquered dragon throne, his left hand resting on the armrest, the other propping up his handsome, refined face. His crimson, vertical pupils gazed coldly at the shrimp soldier below the dais.

His elder brother had rarely entrusted him with a task, yet even this simple matter, he had not accomplished. At this moment, Ao Chi was seething with rage. Even his father’s repeated admonitions against stirring trouble among mortals were cast aside. All he desired was for his brother, upon returning from cultivation at the South Sea spring, to be greeted by the sight of the Stabilizing Sea Pearl.

“Speak.”

Ao Chi raised his hand slightly, and the four-clawed red dragons coiling around the golden pillars and beams drew back. The oppressive dragon aura enveloping the blue shrimp soldier diminished as well.

There was no shortage of shrimp and crab soldiers who had perished under the pressure of his dragon’s might.

“I saw that white-eyed wolf upon the mountain,” Duan Lingqi replied, relief flooding him as the dragon aura pressing down on him abated, and the killing intent that had threatened to overwhelm him faded to a manageable ember.

“I asked what message the silver-scaled shad demon wanted you to deliver to the little princess,” Ao Chi said, his voice a shade gentler as he lifted his gaze, having heard the shrimp refer to that one as a white-eyed wolf.

Very well, that fellow is indeed a white-eyed wolf, Ao Chi thought approvingly.

Duan Lingqi’s eyes darted beneath his lowered head. How could he know what message the silver-scaled shad demon wished delivered? That blue shrimp had been devoured in its entirety before he could ask. He would have to fabricate something plausible.

“He asked that the little princess quickly dispatch soldiers to rescue that white-eyed wolf,” Duan Lingqi murmured.

“My little sister can barely protect herself, and you expect her to save that person? Is that white-eyed wolf truly worth more than the bond between us siblings?” Ao Chi thundered at this, slamming the armrest of his dragon throne. His pale, slender hand transformed instantly into a crimson, five-clawed dragon's talon, the blow making the enameled glass lamps upon the treasure table tremble and the red dragons on the golden pillars shift uneasily.

Just then, the golden dragon carved into the throne slithered to Ao Chi’s ear, whispering something inaudible.

“Take him aside for now,” Ao Chi commanded icily.

From the shadows of the hall emerged a stooped elder clad in a narrow-sleeved blue robe, a turtle shell upon his back. The old man escorted Duan Lingqi to a corner of the grand hall.

Soon after, the main doors swung open, admitting a man dressed in an azure cloud-embroidered dragon robe, his head that of a red dragon, with thick, imposing horns nearly two feet tall.

“The rain has already flooded a third of Sangyu Island,” he reported.

Another man entered, robed in black silk and also bearing a red dragon’s head. His horns were not as thick, but matched the other’s in height.

“The sea waves whipped by the wind have submerged another third of Sangyu Island.”

“And the remaining third?” Ao Chi asked, looking up as the hall doors closed, his gaze shifting coldly to the two dragons—one of wind, one of rain—who had come to report.

“There is a Daoist priest within Sangyu Island, performing a secret ritual to petition the heavens. Our stirring of wind and rain was already unauthorized, and the downpour has lasted long and fallen heavy. If the Divine Sovereign learns of this, there will be punishment for the Vast Sea,” the wind and rain dragons exchanged glances, bowing slightly to Ao Chi, who sat at the center of the hall.

“We have not brought disaster to the Twelve Provinces, nor stirred wind and rain upon them. Besides, the Vast Sea is under the direct governance and autonomy of our Dragon Palace. Even in the days of the ancient Heavenly Emperor, storms over the sea would not warrant interference—let alone censure from the Divine Sovereign of our dragon clan,” Ao Chi retorted, his vertical pupils cold.

“But… the Daoist’s ritual has summoned the Wind Granny from the wind division, Prince Xun from the southeast, and from the cloud division, the Cloud-Pushing Boy and the Mist-Lord, all into the mists above.”

“And?”

Ao Chi leaned forward, his crimson gaze boring into the rain dragon in the azure robe.

Unless the Supreme Lord of Divine Thunder from the Jade Purity Palace himself intervened, these minor wind and cloud gods were hardly worth concern. Besides, powerful cultivators from the Twelve Provinces had on occasion broken through the calamity clouds summoned by the Thunder Lords, capturing and refining even the Thunder Duke into spiritual puppets—yet no word ever came from the Jade Purity Palace.

For the Second Prince of the Vast Sea to chase away a handful of minor wind and cloud gods was a trivial matter. Surely, neither the Supreme Lord of Divine Thunder nor the divine generals of the Jade Purity Palace would hold it against him.

“Me as well,” came a voice before the dragons could reply.

The sealed doors opened, admitting an elder with the body of a man and the head of a dragon, his brows white as snow.

“Uncle Li, what brings you here so suddenly?” Ao Chi’s icy gaze thawed into respect as he stepped down from the golden throne to greet the white-browed elder.

“Your elder brother never dared to raise storms without permission. Your father is in the heavens reporting, your brother is cultivating at the South Sea spring, and yet you alone would turn the Vast Sea upside down?” The white-browed elder’s voice was stern, his presence imposing without anger.

“Uncle, you don’t know how outrageous these humans have been! They trespassed into our Dragon Palace and stole the Divine Sovereign’s treasure—the Stabilizing Sea Pearl!” Ao Chi said, his anger barely contained.

“That pearl, heavy as the four seas and radiating multicolored light, how could mere mortals steal it? Set the matter aside for now and order the wind and rain over Sangyu Island to cease,” the elder replied coldly.

“But, Uncle—”

“Do you know who summoned me here? It was a direct decree from the Jade Purity Palace itself, bearing not only the Supreme Lord of Divine Thunder’s approval, but also a command from the Divine Sovereign!” the elder snapped, cutting Ao Chi off.

“There’s a Daoist on Sangyu Island powerful enough to command the heavens directly? Was it him who stole the Stabilizing Sea Pearl? In that case, I have all the more reason not to stop the wind and rain!” Ao Chi exclaimed.

“The storm must cease first—this is the will from above. As for other matters, such as tsunamis or tidal waves flooding the island, such events are commonplace upon the sea. Besides, have you not already dispatched sea demons and water spirits to land on Sangyu Island?” the white-browed elder replied calmly, his gaze steady upon Ao Chi.