Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 398 - 222: Day Trip, Night Travel

"If Zhou Xuan is in Mingjiang Prefecture, please make sure to eliminate him, Mr. Feng."

Jing Deng couldn’t change Feng Moyan’s determination, so he ceased emphasizing the idea of "killing Zhou Xuan anywhere at all costs."

"Of course, by the way, Teacher Jing Deng, Mo Tingsheng—how have your arrangements been going?"

As the second-in-command of the Kidnapper Hall, Feng Moyan paid close attention to Mo Tingsheng’s movements.

"’Time’ has already sent him away," Jing Deng replied. "This sudden raid against the Kidnappers in Mingjiang Prefecture does have some responsibility on our part, but most importantly, it’s Zhou Xuan—he’s too clever. He killed Liu God, unraveled Time God’s grand scheme to swap heaven and earth, and even tracked down Hunger’s whereabouts."

"I will deal with Zhou Xuan. The Kidnapper Hall being raided was bound to happen sooner or later—it’s not a big deal."

Our planning in Mingjiang Prefecture has been completed. All we need now is to wait for the right time to take action,"

"Mo Tingsheng, Mr. Mo, is the key to this entire operation. We cannot afford to lose him."

Feng Moyan repeatedly stressed Mo Tingsheng’s importance, but Jing Deng couldn’t quite grasp it.

Her partnership with the Kidnappers was deep, and she understood that for years the Kidnapper Hall had been plotting revenge. However, she always believed that their leader, Hall Master Feng, was the mastermind, never expecting Mo Tingsheng to play such a pivotal role.

Now, with the three major halls in Mingjiang Prefecture striking the Kidnappers in a blitz attack during this critical juncture of life or death for the Kidnappers, ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Feng Moyan made a deal with her—he could go ahead and kill Zhou Xuan, but the prerequisite was that no matter what, Jing Deng and the lady behind her must protect Mo Tingsheng.

At this point, Jing Deng finally realized just how crucial Mo Tingsheng was to the Kidnappers.

"Mr. Feng, why is Mr. Mo, with his three sticks of incense, so important?"

"Everyone believes that in Mingjiang Prefecture, even across Jing Country, divine authority reigns supreme—that the Heavenly God and the Gods are the ultimate rulers."

"But Mr. Mo and I both think that the true power lies with the common people—the countless ordinary people. They are the foundation of Jing Country’s strength."

"Mr. Mo can wield this power, and this is the essence of our Kidnapper Hall’s revenge."

"From this perspective, Mr. Mo is the true leader of the Kidnappers. I... am merely a henchman."

"You’re certainly not just a henchman..."

Jing Deng tried to flatter Feng Moyan, but he ignored her and strode backstage at the theater.

Feng Moyan was indeed a Kidnapper but had once been a storyteller.

He took the craft of storytelling very seriously.

As the most renowned storyteller in the theater, Feng Moyan naturally had his private dressing room. Before going on stage, he would light a cigar in the dressing room and quietly rest for a while.

Today, he didn’t rest.

Feng Moyan lit his cigar, pulled out a scrapbook from the drawer of his desk, opened it, and began carefully examining its contents.

The scrapbook was filled with clippings related to the "White-Browed Hero" series.

The series only consisted of eight tales.

After Zhou Xuan’s telling of "The White-Browed Hero" became immensely popular with Zhou Family’s Troupe, some had compiled the tales and submitted them to the newspaper.

Once published, "The White-Browed Hero" first became widely popular in Ping Shui Prefecture, then later in Mingjiang Prefecture.

When Feng Moyan discovered these stories, he liked them greatly and cut them into clippings, often revisiting them.

"My junior disciple is truly blessed. In his old age, he found such an excellent apprentice. If Zhou Xuan could have apprenticed under me, I’d also be like Lao Shi—grinning stupidly while lying around."

"For those who roam the martial world, an apprentice is like half a son. The youngest apprentice is a son, but when it comes to a successor of one’s skills—even one’s own son couldn’t compare."

"Zhou Xuan, oh Zhou Xuan, I admire you so much. But why must you step into this muddy mess in Mingjiang Prefecture?"

Feng Moyan shook his head and used the tip of the cigar to scorch the pages of the scrapbook.

The orange flames danced wildly on the book.

"Only by burning it can I rid myself of distractions and kill you without hesitation."

Feng Moyan sighed.

"The Kidnappers left Ping Shui Prefecture out of respect for Lao Shi."

"Zhou Xuan, you killed Chun Meng and ruined the Kidnappers’ business, and I didn’t kill you because I appreciated your talent."

"You and Liao Ghost slaughtered the entire forensic examination hall, yet I still didn’t kill you because, like Lao Shi, I saw you as the rightful successor to the art of storytelling."

"But this time, you’ve disrupted our revenge plan... I have no choice but to act."

Feng Moyan tossed the scorched scrapbook into the trash, left the dressing room, and stepped onto the stage to tell his next tale.

...

"Brother, today the Ancestor Tree at home is growing exceptionally well. Its crown covers half the street."

"Then, wouldn’t Master Brother want to have a good touch of the Ancestor Tree?"

Zhou Xuan thought of Yu Zhengyuan’s "little poem"—"In Zhou Family’s Troupe, the morning is a white haze, big trees and little trees resembling young maidens."

If the Ancestor Tree had grown so massive, would it now be the super-large maiden Master Brother had referred to?

"Master Brother isn’t as bad as you say, but he has been sitting beneath the tree, bowl in hand, staring at the Ancestor Tree all this time."

"What about Master? Has Master been dozing off these past two days?"

"Not much anymore."

"Oh, I just discovered recently—when Master dozes off, it’s not a sign of unstable incense burning. He must be contemplating the Dream Law."

Upon hearing this, Zhou Lingyi’s smile brightened. She said, "Brother, you’ve truly grown up. You understand the secrets behind Jing Country’s rituals of walking in shadows and worshipping gods even better than I do."

"No, no... You’ve always been the number one expert in my heart, Sister."

"You really are still the same—such sweet talk."

"Sister, I’ve been thinking about this lately. After Jing Country’s so-called troubled times come to an end, you won’t have to keep guarding the Ancestor Tree anymore. Then, we siblings can roam around Jing Country together—watch movies in Mingjiang Prefecture, paddle rafts in Yellow Field Prefecture, climb Reincarnation Snow Mountain in Snow Plain Prefecture."

"We’ll leave our footprints all over Jiangnan."

At first, Zhou Lingyi listened with joy, but as she listened further, a tinge of sadness crept into her heart.

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