Chapter 163 — The Waters of Bangong Lake
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
The Imperial Preceptor of Jingping trembled slightly.
"What you mean to do is too vast an undertaking, and the road ahead is strewn with thorns. My years are nearly spent; I can aid you no longer.
From here on, you must walk alone.
" The Young Patriarch smiled.
"Go back, then.
" The Imperial Preceptor of Jingping bowed low, his long salutation sinking to the ground.
"My thanks, Daoist friend, for half a lifetime of support!
" The Young Patriarch returned the courtesy. "Since we walk the same Way, it is only right that we uphold one another. " The Imperial Preceptor of Jingping turned and departed, robes snapping in the wind, until he vanished into the vast sea of humanity in the capital. The Young Patriarch rose and summoned the Elder of Punishments.
"Come.
It is time the Young Sect Master ascended the throne. " At a frontier pass beyond the borderlands, Libationer Bashan, his face dark as storm clouds, led Shen Mu and Ling Yuxiu into the Man tribe's border fort, his heart full of vexation.
The Man garrison commander's expression shifted at the sight of them returning, and he came forward.
"Martial Khan — the Holy Land has decreed that if we meet you, we must on no account let you out of the pass!
" Libationer Bashan's gaze turned grim. "Do you wish to die? " he said coldly.
The commander shuddered and glanced about him.
Libationer Bashan swept his eyes over the officers nearby. "Do you all wish to die? " he asked coldly.
Gritting his teeth, the commander called, "Open the gates! " The gates swung wide, and Libationer Bashan rode his ox out of the pass.
Shen Mu looked back and saw, atop the gate tower, a young Man tribesman practicing his fists, each blow driving a fierce wind, and he could not help a soft sound of surprise. The youth, sensing himself watched, hastily checked his forms and looked down. "That boy is strong.
His foundation is extraordinarily solid," Shen Mu said in admiration. The youth's gaze came down upon them, eyes blazing.
"Martial Khan!
" he cried out. "My name is Bangong Cuo, youngest son of the Grassland King. One day I will defeat the Martial Khan and become the overlord of the grasslands! " Libationer Bashan turned and studied the young tribesman.
"You have spirit. Keep training. You are a seedling with a sound foundation.
Run through another set — let me see! " Bangong Cuo ran through another fist form, and Libationer Bashan said to Shen Mu, "This boy's boxing is broad and sweeping, his force far fiercer than the others'. His body carries a rare endowment.
He will be a great vessel one day.
" Shen Mu nodded. With the same techniques and the same cultivation, some men's punches are simply stronger than other men's — that is innate gift, a thing no one can envy into his own possession.
"Rare indeed.
So long as he does not die, he will be a name that rings across the grasslands. " They walked on toward Qingmen Pass, while Bangong Cuo, fired by the Martial Khan's praise, threw himself into his training with redoubled zeal.
Before long a golden light flashed across the sky and a Shaman King descended, face gloomy, and summoned the garrison commander.
"You let the Martial Khan out? " The commander steeled himself. "The Martial Khan's divine might is boundless — how dared we bar his way? Had we tried to stop him by force, I fear our frontier soldiers would have died in droves, and then we could never have held the pass against Jingping's great army. " The Shaman King gave a cold snort and was about to fly into a rage when his eye suddenly fell on Bangong Cuo, still practicing his fists atop the gate tower.
Startled and delighted at once, he pointed. "Whose child is that?
" "The youngest son of the Great Khan of our Man-Di Kingdom — Prince Bangong Cuo.