Chapter 9 – That Rebellious Daughter Still Hasn't Perished!?
"Hong Yuechan!"
Who was that?
And with the surname Hong…
Almost instantly, all eyes once again focused on Hong Tianque.
But the next moment, the three characters "Hong Yuechan" suddenly trembled, then shifted into a new name—"Chen Xingcai"!
"It changed! It changed!"
"The name on the Human Monument actually changed!"
If the looks toward Hong Tianque earlier had carried admiration and amazement, then at the instant the name changed, those gazes held only amusement.
The Human Monument was an immortal artifact from the Upper Realm, capable of tracing origins. In history, there had been instances of names changing.
And a name change signified that the person had completely severed ties with their previous identity.
Thus, at this moment, with the name change and the earlier matter of Hong Tianque killing his own daughter, it was like a heavy slap across the face of the patriarch of one of Xuanying Continent's top clans.
The Heavenly Monument Plaza fell silent once again. On the spirit vessel, Hong Tianque stood motionless, the hem of his black cloud-patterned robe unmoving.
He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the Heavenly Monument Pavilion towering over ten zhang high in the center of the plaza, his eyes—deep and unreadable—fixed on the golden-lit name on the Human Monument.
"Heh, they say the Hong Family patriarch is a master of calculation, yet you handed the daughter who ranks first on the Human Monument to someone else?"
A voice laced with obvious mockery pierced the clouds with spiritual power, and the surrounding cultivators, previously silent, began to whisper among themselves.
As a patriarch of a top clan, Hong Tianque had never lacked friends—but even less had he lacked enemies.
And the Zhao Family patriarch, Zhao Wuya, from another top clan in Lingzhou, was clearly one of them.
Earlier, when the Hong Family's legitimate son ranked second on the Human Monument, Zhao Wuya had nearly ground his teeth to dust. As for the matter of seizing the Supreme Blood from his daughter, he hardly cared.
But never had he expected the one ranked first to be that very Hong Family daughter, robbed of her Supreme Blood and whose life or death had been uncertain.
This was too great a joke for him to let pass.
Hong Tianque's thumb, resting on his thumb ring, suddenly tightened, and the black-iron ring let out a faint cry.
On the spirit vessel, the banners suddenly stirred without wind, and frost quickly crept across the black-iron flagpoles.
But the next moment—
"Patriarch Zhao jests."
When Hong Tianque spoke again, the violent spiritual energy in his sleeves had returned to calm. Only the silver-thread cloud patterns on his cuffs still held a trace of chill.
"The rebellious girl is currently in seclusion at home, so there is no need for the Zhao Family to trouble themselves. As for the name—my wife's surname is Chen, and she loves this rebellious girl dearly, so the name was changed to follow her surname, nothing more."
"Ha!?" Zhao Wuya snapped open his folding fan with a pa. "Who doesn't know Hong Tianque is ruthless? And yet you had your daughter take your wife's surname… could it be we've all misjudged you?"
He deliberately paused, his fan tip pointing toward the top of the Human Monument. "In truth, Patriarch Hong is secretly a man of deep feelings, eh? Hahaha…"
This time, not only Hong's rivals but even some neutral factions couldn't help but wear amused smiles.
In the wide sleeves, Hong Tianque's knuckles turned white as he clenched his hand, the metallic taste rising in his throat forcibly pressed down into a cold laugh.
"Zhao Wuya." He nearly ground the three syllables out between his teeth. "In a hundred days, at the Lingzhou Immortal Alliance Conference, dare you test your tongue against me?"
With that, Hong Tianque swept his sleeves and departed.
As he turned, the massive blood-colored spirit vessel slowly shifted its bow.
While turning away, he heard Zhao Wuya's cold laugh. "Patriarch Hong, leaving so soon? Your legitimate son and daughter now both rank in the top two of the Human Monument—won't you stay and toast a few cups in celebration?"
Hong Tianque's steps did not falter, letting the rampaging spiritual energy tear the spirit vessel's deck tiles apart.
"Wu Lao!"
At his furious call, a black-robed elder quickly caught up to his shadow.
"Go investigate! Whether dead or alive, I want to know that rebellious girl's whereabouts!"
…
…
…
After Hong Tianque led the Hong Family's spirit vessel out, the noisy voices in the plaza gradually subsided with the fading golden light of the Human Monument.
Next came the Earth Monument.
Some of the scattered cultivators in the plaza had already begun to leave in small groups.
"Shibo, why are they leaving already?" A young man attending the grand event for the first time asked the middle-aged cultivator beside him.
"On the Earth Monument, only combat strength is measured, so it is filled with sect masters and elders of the top sects. For people of their level, a hundred years is too short, and the rankings hardly change. For us scattered cultivators, it's far too distant—better to focus on the present."
"I see…" The youth sighed, his eyes full of longing for those in the pavilions and among the clouds. "Ah, if only my name could appear on the next Human Monument…"
As the names on the Earth Monument were revealed one by one, most of the crowd in the plaza seemed uninterested.
Instead, the people in the pavilions grew more talkative.
"Seventy-ninth place, Yin Jiuzhu, Sect Master of the Profound Yin Sect." As the golden seal characters appeared on the Earth Monument, a sudden sound of shattering cups came from the southwestern pavilion.
The Young Master of the Profound Yin Sect clutched half a jade wine cup, unable to believe it. "Father just completed the Nine Yin Profound Fiend Art last year, and he's still three places lower than that old Daoist from Taixu Palace?"
In the neighboring Zixiao Sword Sect pavilion, Ling Wuya said with schadenfreude, "How many years has your old ghost father been stuck at the eighth level of the Profound Yin Grand Art? It's remarkable his ranking hasn't fallen further."
The purple-robed sword cultivator's brow sword-mark writhed like a living thing. "But look at Medicine King Valley—Old Wang still holds sixty-third place at his age. Truly worth congratulating."
The green-robed woman from Medicine King Valley did not even look up. "And hasn't Elder Ling's Jade-Shattering Sword Art also stalled at the 'Ten Thousand Swords Return to One' stage?"
Several top cultivators exchanged cold snorts and said no more.
"Sixty-first place, Qingwei Zhenren of Taixu Palace."
At this name, the old man drinking in the northern pavilion paused slightly. "Junior Brother Qingwei's Supreme Forgetting Emotion Art has grown ever more refined."
The expressionless middle-aged man beside him said blandly, "Senior Brother flatters me. It's only an empty title."
"Empty title?" From the northwestern pavilion came a sharp laugh.
A black-robed cultivator from the Profound Yin Sect let countless scarlet Gu insects crawl from his sleeves. "Taixu Palace has occupied the Beiming Sea Eye for three thousand years. That old Daoist Qingwei, with the Sea Eye's cold qi, will surely push the Supreme Forgetting Emotion Art to the ninth level. Can he truly claim to not care about such a title?"
"Better than you crooked-path types, piling up cultivation with Gu worms. You dare compare yourselves with sword cultivators?"
"Thirty-seventh place, Cheng Qingli of Medicine King Valley."
The green-robed woman of Medicine King Valley frowned slightly. "The Valley Master just refined the Nine-Turn Rebirth Pill last month, how could…"
"For that pill, the Valley Master lost three hundred years of cultivation." A cold female voice came from behind her. "So falling three places this time is only fitting."
Finally, the golden light flared brightly, and the top ten names began to turn.
The restrictions on the pavilions lit up in succession, and even the scattered cultivators in the plaza held their breath.
Though these people were far beyond them, the top ten were all peerless geniuses whose stories were widely told among the common folk.
If this were on Earth, the feeling would be much like that of fans awaiting their idols.
"Tenth place, Ji Chengying, Northern Marquis of Great Zhou."
From the eastern main pavilion came a dragon's roar. Golden dragon qi tore apart the clouds, and nine fate dragons coiled above the Heavenly Monument Pavilion.
In the Zixiao Sword Sect pavilion, cracks spread across Ling Wuya's sword scabbard. "Ji Chengying… that junior who only entered the Longevity Realm a hundred years ago?"
The life-bound sword at his back gave a resentful hum but was forced back into its sheath by the sudden pressure of dragon might.
The Taixu Palace elder finally stood, nine halos of light solidifying above his head. "Great Zhou's royal family truly intends to suppress all the sects under heaven?"
As the top ten names were revealed one by one, Great Zhou's Immortal Dynasty claimed fully half of them.
The top sect and clan cultivators who had just been trading jabs slowly fell into silence.
When "First place, Li Chunfeng, National Preceptor of Great Zhou" shone and illuminated the entire Heavenly Monument Pavilion, the main pavilion resounded with the booming of bianzhong bells.
Almost all sect cultivators wore expressions of unwillingness.
And in their unwillingness, the National Preceptor's name slowly merged with the golden light streaming from the Earth Monument, transforming into the vast fortune that shrouded the imperial capital.