novelcrest Chapter 463 Searching for the Old Salt Warehouse
Chapter 463 Searching for the Old Salt Warehouse
With a pot stick in his mouth, Chen the accountant chewed on the wood with his teeth, leaving wet marks, and dragged a piece of charred bamboo on the ground with his fingers, stroke by stroke.
Old Zhou slowed down his pounding on the pot, then immediately steadied himself.
"old."
Xiao Liu watched, holding the copper basin even tighter.
"Salt."
The woman pressed the child's head against her shoulder, but couldn't help looking at the gray characters.
"warehouse."
When Chen the accountant wrote the character "仓" (cang), the black water gushing from his ear had already flowed down to his collar, the soul-protecting talisman was cracked, and the edges of the heart-cleansing talisman began to curl black.
Old Zheng gritted his teeth and urged him on.
"And then there's more."
Chen the accountant pulled his wrist back, shrank to the ground, his throat blocked by the pot stick, and could only squeeze out water sounds from his nose.
Mo Chengyue pressed two fingers of his left hand onto the soul-protecting talisman, and the thunder and fire ash burned a bright edge along the talisman's pattern.
"Finished writing."
The tears welled up in Chen's eyes, and he grabbed the scorched bamboo with his right hand and dragged it heavily onto the gray ground.
"back."
Xiao Liu whispered, "The back wall."
After Chen finished writing the words on the wall, the charred bamboo in his hand broke in two. One half rolled to the side of the ashes and fire, where it was caught by the smoke and emitted a bitter bamboo smell.
Old Zhou looked at the words on the gray ground and pressed his lips down.
"The back wall of the old salt warehouse."
The fat shopkeeper kept banging on the pot, but his mouth kept moving.
"One side of the old salt warehouse collapsed long ago, and the back wall is against a culvert. Few people walk there during the day."
Manager Hu immediately looked at Mo Chengyue.
Is this the truth?
Mo Chengyue peeled off the remaining edge of the Qingxin Talisman and looked at the black water seeping out of the talisman.
"Whether the Water Curse didn't want him to write it or not, it at least blocked the path of the person behind the scenes."
The seventh eye spoke in a sinister voice from the bottom of the ship.
"So what if I wrote down the location? Would you dare go?"
Manager Hu raised the white paper lantern, and the light forced the seventh eye to retreat.
"The more you ask, the more I feel I should go."
Yu Lin Hong's lingering resentment rummaged through the blood-stained talisman in Mo Cheng Yue's right sleeve, releasing a chilling crimson aura that seeped out along with the talisman's ash.
"Mo Chengyue, behind the old salt warehouse wall, the remnant of the Foreign Affairs Office seal, the discarded letter on the right arm—can you investigate these things tonight?"
Mo Chengyue pulled his right sleeve to his side and gripped the hilt of the Rain Flower Sword with his left hand.
Whether or not we can investigate depends on how eager you are to silence them.
Shopkeeper Hu asked in a low voice, "Who will it destroy?"
Mo Chengyue looked at the wet red register.
"They've arrived."
Suddenly, the wet red register under the overturned iron pot turned its pages. The pages bulged up one by one without any wind. On the last page, the words "Mo Chengyue, right arm is crippled" were soaked in red water, and thin lines of wet ink crawled out from between the characters.
Old Zhou grabbed the old boat license plate and was about to press it down.
"Suppress it!"
Mo Chengyue raised his hand to stop him.
"Don't touch the ink."
The old card in Old Zhou's hand hovered in mid-air, soot dripping from the corner of the card.
The wet ink lines rise from the register, the ends of the lines split into many, and in the blink of an eye they become fine needles, the tips of which all point towards Chen's heart.
When Chen the accountant saw the needles, the blister in his throat burst, the pot stick he was biting made a squeaking sound, and his hands and feet kicked wildly on the gray ground.
Old Zheng held him down, but the black water splashed from his sleeves, making his palms slippery.
"Master Ink Immortal!"
Manager Hu retreated with the small box in his arms, the lamplight protecting Ah Sui, but the silver hairpin had already slipped from his sleeve to his fingers.
"Can I sever it?"
"Don't touch it."
Mo Chengyue drew the Rain Flower Sword with his left hand. The sword's blade glowed with lightning and ash. He stepped over the edge of the ashes and placed the sword's spine across Chen Zhangfang's chest.
The wet ink needle didn't pierce the sword's edge; instead, it bypassed the blade and slipped into his hanging right sleeve.
The fat shopkeeper knocked the pot crooked.
"It's not killing the accountants anymore?"
At this moment, the blood-stained talisman in Mo Chengyue's right sleeve glowed red, and the ash of the talisman was burned from the inside out.
The blood-red mark on his palm, which had been covered for a long time, lit up again, and even the tattered seal of the Foreign Affairs Office at the corner of the paper crane was illuminated red.
Shopkeeper Hu saw the red light under his sleeve and pinched a crack in the lampshade with his fingertips.
"Mo Chengyue!"
Mo Chengyue swept his sword horizontally with his left hand, and the Thunderfire Ash cut into the cluster of wet ink needles.
The needles veered off course in the sparks, but a few still managed to pierce his right wrist along the blade.
Just as the wet ink was about to seep into the blood-stained inscription, the paper crane seal above the ashes of the pot suddenly emitted a clear, melodious sword-like sound.
That sword's cry was unlike that of the Rain Flower Sword; it was blazing, clean, and carried the sharp edge of a blazing sun's sword intent burning through sewage.
Mo Chengyue looked at the paper crane seal, his left thumb pressing on the sword hilt, and the blood-stained post on his right palm in his sleeve was illuminated by the sword's sound, causing the red patterns to flutter.
A second sword cry emanated from the paper crane seal.
Shopkeeper Hu looked up, the smoke from the fire obscuring half her face, and she pressed the small box tightly against her chest.
"Who?"
Mo Chengyue stared at the sword intent forced out by the firelight in the fragment and spoke in a low voice.
"Qin Wanzhuang"
The sword's cry within the paper crane seal did not dissipate; instead, it climbed upwards along with the smoke and fire.
The ashes of the pot were illuminated by the intense sword intent, turning them white, while the wet, red register under the inverted iron pot made a soft rustling sound as the pages curled.
The fat shopkeeper's handle veered off course again, knocking the iron pot with a series of rattling sounds. He quickly pulled his arm back, his face twitching slightly.
"Qin Wanzhuang?"
"Master Mo, is that your second senior sister?"
"Is she outside?"
"Can she come in?"
"Could she cut this wrecked ship down?"
Several voices squeezed over the sound of the pot boiling, and the dry ash under the feet of the people on the shore was trampled and floated up.
The child was held in the woman's arms, and his cries were barely audible before they were drowned out by the sound of the pot boiling over.
Mo Chengyue pressed his left hand on the Rain Flower Sword. The lightning-fire ash on the sword's blade shone brightly under the reflection of the paper crane seal, only to be dimmed again by the black mist.
"Don't crowd around."
Old Zhou immediately stuck the old boat license plate into the soot and raised his hand to stop people from peeking forward.
"Everyone back off. If anyone gets too close to the paper crane print, I'll shove their head into a pot and listen to the sound."
The chubby shopkeeper, clutching the iron pot, quickly shrank back.
"Old Zhou, you can curse all you want, but don't use the pot as an example. My pot has suffered enough today."
Shopkeeper Hu hugged the white paper lamp and the small box tightly. The lamplight flickered against the box lid, and Ah Sui made a soft sound inside the box.
Her fingertips, which were about to touch the box lid, stopped at the edge of the lampshade.
"Mo Chengyue, she's here?"
Mo Chengyue did not answer immediately. With the tip of his sword, he flicked the edge of the paper crane seal and pushed the wisp of moisture that had been heated by the blazing sun sword intent back above the ashes.
"Not there yet."
Manager Hu stared at his drooping right sleeve, his lips pressed tightly together.
"Not here yet?"
Xiao Liu was holding a copper basin, the rim of which was pressed against his chest and gleaming in the firelight.
"But the sound of a sword has already come in."
Mo Chengyue said, "The one that comes in is the response port."
Old Zheng, pressing down on the still-leaking Chen's accounting room, looked up and asked, "What's that?"
Mo Chengyue pointed the tip of his sword toward the wall of mist.
"The true message in the fish's belly was intercepted from the outside. She followed the traces of the paper crane and slashed back with her sword, opening a crack in the mist."
The fat shopkeeper's eyebrows furrowed as he listened.
"Isn't that it?"
Mo Chengyue looked towards the gate of the abandoned shipyard. Black water was surging up along the threshold, and a dark shadow on the bottom of the ship reached out a wet hand toward the gray talisman.
"If she has already arrived, the first sword strike will not only resound in the seal."
Shopkeeper Hu's voice was hoarse from the soot and grime.
"Where will the first sword strike be?"
Mo Chengyue raised the Rain Flower Sword.
"on board."
The stick in Old Zhou's hand fell even harder.
"Did you hear that? Don't celebrate your death before the person even arrives. Knock on the pot and retreat to the fire circle in the earth god temple."
The woman pressed the child into her arms, her shoes leaving messy marks on the dry ash.
"What will you do if we cancel our order?"