novelcrest Chapter 462 The Remnant Seal Causes Trouble!
Chapter 462 The Remnant Seal Causes Trouble!
The paper crane seal on the ashes of the pot was baked white, and the broken red seal floated in the steam. The two characters "Hehuan" and the three small characters "Waiwutang" were pasted on the edge of the fire smoke, which disrupted the rhythm of the pots on the shore.
The fat shopkeeper's stick first struck the edge of the pot, then slid down to the body, producing a strange metallic sound. He quickly straightened the stick, his face twitching.
"The External Affairs Hall of the Hehuan Sect?"
Old Zheng grabbed Chen the accountant by the back of his collar, the veins on the back of his hand bulging out one by one.
"Master Mo, isn't that your sect's branch?"
Xiao Liu hugged the copper basin back to his chest, the bottom of the basin pressed against his chest. The firelight flickered across the copper surface, and he didn't dare to look at the paper crane print for long.
"Do people in sects also sell their reputation?"
The woman holding the child moved closer to the ashes of the pot, covered the child's ears tightly, and pressed her fingertips against the back of the child's neck, not daring to let even the sound of the pot cooking escape.
"Immortal Master, if they are truly from your sect, what have Red Maple Ferry been all these years?"
Before the fat shopkeeper could reply, Shopkeeper Hu glared at him first.
"You bang the pot first."
The fat shopkeeper immediately lowered his head and delivered two more blows with the stick.
"I'll knock, I'll knock. Manager Hu, don't treat me like I'm from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I can't even write the word 'foreign affairs' properly."
Old Zhou didn't laugh. He changed the angle of the pot stick in his palm, and the old boat license plate was still pressed against the edge of the soot.
"Master Mo, is this chapter credible?"
Mo Chengyue did not speak immediately. He held the Rain Flower Sword in his left hand, the tip of the sword catching the wisp of water vapor. His right sleeve hung down at his side, the ash on the cuff of the sleeve being heated by the heat of the blood inscription to reveal a dark red edge.
Shopkeeper Hu held the small box, a white paper lamp pressed against the lid, the lampshade bearing old creases from the pressure of her palm.
"Say something!"
Mo Chengyue looked at the incomplete seal on the paper crane, and pushed the tip of his sword down a little. The smoke from the fire made the remaining cinnabar ink even clearer.
"It might be true."
Old Zheng was pulled forward by the old accountant in his hand, and his knees sank into the dusty ground.
"Is it really the Hehuan Sect?"
Mo Chengyue looked at him, his right finger slowly retracting from under his clothes, the blood-stained inscription on his palm not being shown to anyone.
"It could also be a counterfeit."
The fat shopkeeper's hand, which was banging on the pot, stopped halfway, but was glanced at by Old Zhou and quickly resumed.
"Immortal Master, what you're saying is practically meaningless."
Mo Chengyue picked up a bit of wet ink from the steam with the tip of his sword. The wet ink fell onto the soot in the pot and immediately curled up into thin red smoke.
"There is a third option."
Shopkeeper Hu asked, "Which one?"
"Using a fake one to demonstrate true skill."
The firelight made the furrows between Old Zhou's brows appear even deeper.
"The seal is genuine, but the person who has it isn't necessarily someone from the gang?"
Mo Chengyue nodded.
"The Foreign Affairs Office has a lot of correspondence, including old seals, obsolete seals, rubbings, borrowed seals, and lost seals. Any one of them can be used to set up a scheme."
Old Zheng gritted his teeth and asked, "Surely someone in that sect is involved?"
Mo Chengyue looked at the Paper Crane Seal. A streak of lightning and fire shone on the Rain Flower Sword, which he then darkened with his fingertip.
"Possibly."
Xiao Liu looked up, and the edge of the copper basin touched his chin.
"Then why not say who it is first?"
"Because if they bite randomly now, it will save the person behind the scenes some trouble."
Manager Hu stared at his drooping right sleeve, his lips pursed.
"You're quite calm."
Mo Chengyue turned his head to the side, and the smoke from the fire pressed down in front of his eyes. When he blinked, a little ash clung to his eyelashes.
"If I were to say right now that someone from the Hehuan Sect is colluding with the Red Lanterns, chaos would erupt on the shore first, then be rectified in the water, and the roster would be able to write the names of everyone who has doubts into the wet pages."
The fat shopkeeper slammed the iron pot a few more times.
"Doesn't that mean we're ordering the food for them?"
Mo Chengyue glanced at him.
"Your analogy is still applicable today."
Just as a hint of smugness appeared on the fat shopkeeper's face, Shopkeeper Hu's gaze swept over, and he immediately started banging the pot even more frequently.
Old Zhou said in a deep voice, "So let's not acknowledge it, let's not deny it, and let's not pave the way for it."
"right."
Mo Chengyue pressed the tip of his sword against the steam rising from the edge of the pot. The paper crane print twisted on the fire, and red water seeped out from the broken pieces on its wing tips.
"It showed Zhang Liang to us so that we would bite into the sect. The more fiercely we bite, the easier it is to hide the true path."
The seventh eye emitted a wet laugh from the bottom of the wrecked ship, and red bubbles rose from its empty eye socket.
"Mo Chengyue, are you afraid of finding out about your own people?"
Shopkeeper Hu pushed the white paper lantern to the edge of the small box, and the light just blocked the red light from the seventh eye.
"Shut up, you can't trust anyone now."
The voice of the Seventh Eye crept across the water's surface.
"The Foreign Affairs Office's seal is right here, and you're still covering for him?"
Manager Hu did not turn around, but simply pressed the silver hairpin between his fingers.
"I won't cover for anyone; I'm afraid you'll use my words to write."
Old Zhou immediately shouted, "Did you hear that? Nobody talk to anyone in the water!"
Old Zheng used a pot stick to brace against Chen's shoulder.
"Then ask someone who's alive."
Accountant Chen lay prone on the dusty ground, his mouth smeared with mud and soot. When he heard the words "Foreign Affairs Hall," his mouth, which had been begging for mercy, suddenly opened, but he couldn't utter a complete word.
Xiao Liu noticed something was wrong first. The copper basin slid down from his clothes, and when he reached out to catch it, the rim of the basin hit his wrist.
"He miscarried."
Old Zheng lowered his head, and the force in his hands became disordered.
"What are you flowing about?"
Black water gushed from Chen's nostrils, followed by water seeping from the corners of his eyes. Wet streaks spread from behind his ears down his neck, and tiny red streaks were mixed in with the saliva he spat out.
The woman pressed the child into her arms, her shoe heel scraping an arc on the dry ash.
"He's not crying, he's leaking water."
The fat shopkeeper almost dropped the pot stick, only managing to catch the metallic sound by biting his tongue.
"How can a person be so leaky?"
Mo Chengyue flipped his left hand, and the Rain Flower Sword plunged into the ash of the threshold talisman. A circle of golden light emanated from the hilt of the sword. He used two fingers to take out the Heart-Cleansing Talisman from his sleeve, and then stuck the Soul-Protecting Talisman on the spine of the sword and washed it with the Thunderfire Ash.
"Old Zheng, don't let him bite his tongue."
Old Zheng cursed and shoved the pot stick between Chen's teeth.
"If you dare to die, I'll donate all the gold coins you have left to the local temple."
Chen the accountant rolled his eyes upward, tears streaming from his eye sockets, and his fingers scratched wildly at the gray ground, leaving several crooked mud marks.
Manager Hu hugged the small box tightly, pressing his fingertips against the lid. Ah Sui gently touched it from inside. She didn't look down, but stared at the increasingly bulging blister on Accountant Chen's throat.
"Is this a no-talking rule?"
Mo Chengyue pressed the calming talisman onto Chen Zhangfang's forehead, and as soon as the talisman was pasted on, black water seeped out a hole in it.
"Water spell."
Old Zhou asked, "Can it be saved?"
"To be able to say a few words."
The portly shopkeeper, trembling as he tapped the door, replied, "Interrupting counts as threatening someone's life?"
Mo Chengyue affixed the soul-protecting talisman to Chen Zhangfang's chest. The talisman burned with a yellow light and was then bulged up by the black liquid gushing from under the skin.
"Tonight, valuable lives aren't valued at ordinary prices."
The accountant made a hoarse sound with water in his throat, the pot stick pressed against his teeth, he couldn't speak, but his fingers moved haphazardly on the gray ground.
Mo Chengyue squatted down, pressing his left hand against his wrist to avoid the ash seeping from the damp ink.
"Don't say it, write it down."
Chen the accountant's eyelids twitched, and black liquid dripped from the roots of his eyelashes, hissing and steaming as it fell into the ash.
Old Zheng asked urgently, "Write what?"
Mo Chengyue stared at his fingertips.
"The place where I last saw the paper cranes."
Chen the accountant crawled forward with his fingers, his fingernails full of mud and ash. He had just drawn out the character "old" when his wrist bone bulged from the water curse inside his body, and his whole arm trembled wildly on the ash ground.
Shopkeeper Hu handed over the silver hairpin.
"Use this?"
Mo Chengyue did not answer.
"The hairpin has Ah Sui's eye mark on it, so don't get it wet."
Shopkeeper Hu immediately withdrew her sleeve, protecting the small box. The edge of the lampshade brushed against the old wound on her palm, and just as a bead of blood was about to appear, she pressed it down with her fingertip.
"Then how do you write it?"
Mo Chengyue picked out a charred bamboo stick from the ashes and stuffed it between Chen Zhangfang's fingers.
"Write with dry ash, and write it big, preferably so it's not visible in water."