Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 113 Dragon Boat Race Begins! (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

As dawn breaks and the east turns white, the first light of day appears.

On the vast expanse of the river, the morning mist, like a light veil, shrouded the entire city of Jiangzhou in a hazy veil.

The eaves and brackets of Wangjiang Pavilion on the riverbank outside the city are faintly visible in the thin mist.

Before dawn, Prefect Xue Chonghu had already arrived with his deputy Cui Chengye, chief clerk Liu Mingchuan, chief clerk Zhao Shiheng, and commandant Lei Wanting, among other officials.

Magistrate Xue, with a gilded fish-shaped pouch hanging from his waist and the hem of his crimson official robe brushing against the glistening dewdrops on the bluestone steps, steadily ascended the Wangjiang Pavilion.

In front of the pavilion, 120 yamen runners stood silently on both sides, arranged like the wings of a goose.

As the morning bell rang, the invited scholars and literati ascended the pavilion one after another.

They were either heads of various mansions in Jiangzhou Prefecture, local celebrities, scholars, or young ladies and scions of prominent families holding gold-embossed invitations.

As everyone leaned on the railing and gazed into the distance, they saw dragon boats on the river, their colorful flags waving.

Outside Wangjiang Pavilion, a market has already formed along the riverbank.

Those who were unable to ascend the pavilion had already gathered, bringing their children and teenagers to the literary gathering, creating a bustling atmosphere.

As dawn broke, crowds surged forth.

The cobblestone path was packed with people, and even the willow branches along the riverbank were filled with children watching the spectacle.

The sounds of vendors hawking their wares and the sounds of laughter mingled with the fragrance of bamboo leaves, spreading in the damp morning breeze.

"Father, where is Brother Jiang?"

The little boy, with his hair tied in a topknot, rode on his father's shoulders, his almond-shaped eyes darting around.

The man steadied the child and laughed, "Don't rush. If Young Master Jiang composes a new poem at the Dragon Boat Festival literary gathering later, I'm afraid all the scholars in Jiangzhou Prefecture will be scrambling to copy it!"

The people of Jiangzhou Prefecture have already learned from experience that if another essay from the prefecture is produced, it will surely be full of talent and extremely beneficial to children.

Not far away, a woman carrying a bamboo basket weaved through the crowd, calling out, "Freshly cooked jujube zongzi—!"

"Selling scrolls of poetry and paintings!"
"The Humble Abode Inscription" is a masterpiece of both poetry and painting by a high-ranking official!

Young Master Jiang's latest masterpiece, the scroll painting "Ode to a Humble Abode," a copy of the original, produced by a scholar of painting at the Jiangzhou Prefectural Academy, is only ten taels of silver!

Some shrewd merchants even set up sunshades and hung their copied poems and paintings on bamboo poles.

A roll of plain silk, with ink stains that seem to reveal the spirit of "The Humble Abode Inscription".

As the morning light filtered through the willow branches, it cast dappled shadows on the words "[This is a humble abode, yet my virtue is fragrant]", drawing passersby to stop and admire them.

"Great article! Great painting!"

Several young men who looked like scholars immediately gathered around, their fingertips carefully tracing the edge of the scroll, marveling at it.

They had never seen the original painting scroll!

Even this hastily completed painting, only a fraction of the original, was enough to amaze and shock them.

Wangjiang Pavilion.

The young lady's private room.

The carved window lattice was half-open, and more than ten young ladies leaned against it, their silk skirts swaying gently and their pearl hairpins trembling slightly.

Their eyes gleamed as they gazed out of the pavilion, seemingly searching for that familiar figure in the crowd.

Xue Lingqi, the eldest daughter of the Duke of Xue's mansion, wore a moon-white dress, her slender hand resting on the windowsill, her expression as cold as frost.

Zhou Yunyao suddenly leaned closer, her almond-shaped eyes brimming with curiosity: "Sister Xue, I heard that Young Master Jiang studied at your esteemed residence for five years? You often debated the Book of Poetry with him? To be able to discuss literature with the number one talent in Jiangzhou is truly enviable!"

"No!"

Shen Mingluo covered her lips with her fan, her eyes sparkling, "My little nephews talk about Young Master Jiang's poems and essays every day, wishing they could come and ask him for advice."

Her favorite poem was "A Spray of Plum Blossoms: The Moon Fills the West Tower," which she often copied and practiced. Unfortunately, it was a poem that Jiang Xingzhou had given to Xue Lingqi.

Upon hearing this, Chen Yuntang couldn't help but sigh, "To be able to debate with Young Master Jiang, Sister Lingqi must be exceptionally talented."

Xue Lingqi's slender, pale fingertips lightly brushed against the window frame, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Morning light filtered through the gauze window, casting dappled shadows on her delicate profile.

"My sisters flatter me. In my younger days, I only occasionally exchanged wits with Jiang Lang."

Her voice was clear and cold, and she paused slightly as her eyelashes trembled, revealing a hint of soft light. "Lately, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to argue with him."

These few words, described in a very understated way,
But it made all the young ladies in the room feel envious and jealous.

Zhou Yunyao unconsciously tightened the embroidered handkerchief in her hand, Shen Mingluo's jade fingers holding the fan stiffened slightly, and Chen Yuntang even paused in breathing.

The room was so quiet that the soft crackling of the incense sticks in the burner could be heard.

The women looked at each other, and in each other's eyes they saw the same envy and bitterness—this kind of nonchalant boasting was the most heart-wrenching!
"Look, the students from Jiangzhou Academy are here!"

Before he could finish speaking, a commotion suddenly broke out outside the window.

The women quickly peered over and saw a commotion under the willows by the riverbank.

Prefect Xue Chonghu stood atop the high platform of Wangjiang Pavilion, his voice booming like a bell, and announced in a loud voice: "For the first event of the Dragon Boat Festival literary gathering, please welcome the young men of Jiangzhou Academy to ride horses and shoot willows!"

A river breeze blows, and the willows in front of the pavilion sway gently, their slender branches already adorned with colorful silk ribbons that flutter in the wind.

Upon hearing the sound, everyone in Wangjiang Pavilion moved to the railing in front of the pavilion, their eyes fixed intently on the row of green willows.

"Horseback archery" is an ancient Dragon Boat Festival ritual that tests archery skills as well as literary talent—those who hit the willow branch are top-notch in both literature and archery.

The rules are simple: whoever can hit the target furthest from the gate wins.

The young men from prominent families in the pavilion were eager to get started, while the scholars and Confucianists watched with smiles. Some young ladies even covered their lips with fans and whispered among themselves, waiting for the show to begin.

Meanwhile, the people outside the pavilion craned their necks and stood on tiptoe, eager to catch a glimpse of this elegant and grand event.

Prefect Xue Chonghu raised his hand and waved it.

"Fellow lads of Jiangzhou, please—!"

No sooner had the words been spoken than a horse neighed from below Wangjiang Pavilion.

Dozens of chestnut-red horses emerged from behind the pavilion in single file, their saddles gilded and bridles adorned with jade.

The riders on horseback were all dressed in tight-fitting, narrow-sleeved outfits with belts around their waists that gleamed coldly in the morning light.

Along the river, beneath the weeping willows, yamen runners stood solemnly before a willow gate, tying three feet of red silk ribbons that fluttered in the morning breeze.

The best way to test one's skills is to ride a horse at full speed and travel as far as possible. When drawing a bow and nocking an arrow, one must be able to shoot down the hanging willow branch without damaging the red ribbon tied to it in the slightest.

The Jiangzhou Dragon Boat Festival literary gathering has a century-old tradition, and those who can outshine all others at this event are renowned throughout Jiangnan.

Moreover, the Dragon Boat Festival literary gathering is different from the Grain Rain literary gathering—the Grain Rain literary gathering is mainly for two thousand candidates for the prefectural examination, and is a grand event held before the prefectural examination.

This Dragon Boat Festival literary gathering, however, is open to all scholars, regardless of their rank or whether they are scholars or even those who have passed the provincial examinations. All scholars can participate and make a name for themselves at the gathering.

Jiang Xingzhou, dressed in a narrow-sleeved riding outfit, rode a pure white steed, the Jade Lion of the Night, with light, quick steps. His fingers, holding the reins, were long and slender like jade.

The morning light gilded his silhouette, and even the water droplets splashed by the horse's hooves seemed as crystalline as broken jade.

The Xue brothers, Fu and Gui, followed closely behind.

Han Yugui, Cao An, Lu Ming, Shen Zhiyun, and the others, riding on their chestnut horses, were also dressed in flowing robes.

The sight of these scholars, dressed in smart attire and riding slowly on horseback, was striking, almost like they were on a battlefield.

"Young Master Jiang—!"

It is unclear who uttered this first, but it was like a stone thrown into water, creating ripples everywhere.

The crowd under the willow trees on the riverbank instantly erupted in excitement. Children jumped and squeezed forward, old men leaned on their bamboo canes and stood on tiptoe to look around, and even the woman selling zongzi forgot to call out her wares, busy wiping her apron and gazing into the distance.

At Wangjiang Pavilion, pearls and jade ornaments swayed and embroidered handkerchiefs fluttered.

Xue Lingqi tried to remain calm and gripped the window frame tightly, but she couldn't hide the blush on the tips of her ears.

"Jiang Lang~——!"

Zhou Yunyao was so excited that half of her body leaned out of the window, her almond-shaped eyes reflecting the white figure, and she even forgot to straighten the tassels hanging down from her hair.

Wangjiang Pavilion, the viewing platform.

Prefect Xue stood before the vermilion railing, his long beard fluttering in the breeze. His eyes, which had seen much of the world, narrowed slightly, and a hint of satisfaction and self-satisfaction lingered in the smile lines at the corners of his eyes.

He gently stroked his magnificent beard with his left hand, while his right hand was behind his back. The cloud and goose embroidered patch on his official robe gleamed with dark patterns in the morning light.

"What a fine son of the Jiang family!"

Xue Chonghu's whisper carried an undisguised admiration.

The foreman behind him understood and quickly stepped forward to hand over a warmed Junshan Silver Needle tea. Amidst the fragrant aroma of the tea, the prefect's gaze remained fixed on the white-clad figure.

He laughed heartily, turning to Cui Chengye, the Prefectural Judge beside him: "With such an atmosphere, how could the literary fortunes of Jiangzhou Prefecture not flourish?!"

Cui Chengye nodded and smiled, "What you say is true, sir! In just a few years, the literary world of Jiangzhou will have another master of literature!"

Suddenly, the sound of horses' hooves thundered like a thunderclap, and the students of Jiangzhou Academy had already galloped away.

His green robe fluttered in the wind, and in the blink of an eye, he had distanced himself from Liu Men.

Horse hooves shattered the morning dew, splashing a string of sparkling water droplets on the bluestone slabs.

After running more than 300 feet, Han Yugui, Cao An, Lu Ming and the other knights suddenly turned around in unison, like wild geese spreading their wings.

They stretched out their arms with ease, their bows were fully drawn, and the arrowheads gleamed coldly in the morning sun.

"Go!"

With a clear shout, the arrow shot through the air.

Each arrow carries a different kind of literary brilliance—some are like ink-black dragons, some like golden spears and iron horses, and some are so talented that they create rainbows, drawing seven-colored ribbons across the sky.

Three hundred feet away in front of the willow gate, the willow branches rustled in response, and every arrow hit the target perfectly.

Jiang Xingzhou rode ahead of everyone else, while Zhaoye Yushizi, a fine horse, moved with the speed of the wind, already five hundred zhang ahead.

The blue robe fluttered fiercely in the wind, like a blue phoenix spreading its wings.

He suddenly pulled on the reins and turned his horse around, his black hair flying like a waterfall beneath his jade crown.

He held a gilded war bow in his right hand, the bow body wrapped in a pale blue aura.

His left arm stretched out like a crane's wings, the bowstring vibrating at his fingertips, taut like a full moon.

In an instant, the world seemed to fall silent.

"Zheng——!"

The moment the white-feathered arrow left the bowstring, its shaft burst forth with dazzling light, tracing a silvery trajectory in the air.

Five hundred feet away, the willow branch snapped in response, the cut surface as smooth as a mirror.

Only the red silk swayed gently in the wind of the arrows, seemingly possessing a spirit, avoiding their sharpness and remaining perfectly intact in mid-air.

"color--!"

This cheer, like a thunderclap in spring, instantly swept across the entire city of Jiangzhou.

On the Wangjiang Pavilion, the embroidered curtains rustled, and the gilded fans in the hands of the young ladies could no longer conceal their radiant smiles.

A young lady accidentally dropped her fan, and a young woman knocked over her teacup, but they paid no attention to these things, only focusing on standing on tiptoe and looking towards the riverbank.

The people on the riverbank cheered, their excitement boiling like a pot of porridge.

The old fisherman pounded on the side of his boat, the peddler's sugar figurines scattered all over the ground, and children rode on their fathers' shoulders waving colorful ribbons. Cheers rose in waves, startling egrets from the river's heart, which took flight and formed a white ribbon in the azure sky.

The young men reined in their horses and looked at each other, their faces bearing wry smiles. The horses' hooves pounded restlessly on the bluestone slabs, splashing water droplets.

In terms of horsemanship and archery skills, they believed they were no less skilled than Jiang Xingzhou.

The fact that every arrow hit the target from 300 feet away is clear proof of this.

All eyes fell on the gilded warbow in Jiang Xingzhou's hand.

The bow shimmered with a pale blue aura of talent, and the bowstring faintly emitted the sound of metal and stone. The bow carried the first-class literary treasure of the Dafu level, "The Ballad of the Frontier - Stone-Edged Arrow"!
"This top-grade cultural relic war bow is unique in Jiangzhou Prefecture; there is no other like it!"

Someone let out a soft sigh.

How precious are the cultural relics of the Dafu level?

Once this precious bow is drawn, it can automatically release the "Stone Prism Arrow," a high-level literary technique that cuts through the air like a shooting star chasing the moon.

Even the turtle demon general couldn't withstand it!

Even with the most skilled archers, how could those carved bows made of ordinary iron in their hands possibly compete with them?
A river breeze swept past the willow branches, dispelling the boys' resentful sighs.

Prefect Xue summoned the young men from his residence who were riding horses and shooting willow branches to the pavilion.
He stroked his beard and laughed heartily, then waved his wide sleeves: "Guards, show this to all the students of the academy!"

Officials were already filing in, carrying vermilion trays.

What was bestowed upon Jiang Xingzhou was an expensive gilded and jade-inlaid quiver containing three carved arrows with purple-gold threads wrapped around their fletchings; there was also a box of dragon saliva ink sticks and a scroll of "The Art of Archery" made of silk.

The other young men from the various academies received ten wolf-hair writing brushes. Although not as valuable as the top-ranked one, they were still excellent writing implements.

"Thank you for your kindness, Prefect!"

Jiang Xingzhou was extremely respectful, and the jade pendant at his waist tapped lightly.

"Thank you, Prefect!"

The young men bowed in unison to receive their reward, their robes fluttering in the wind.

As the sound of horses' hooves gradually subsided, the sound of drums suddenly rose from the riverbank.

The archery competition just now was merely an appetizer at the Dragon Boat Festival literary gathering, meant to pass the time.

The real highlight, however, is the dragon boat race.

At this moment, on the river, the hundred-foot-long dragon boats, like dragons emerging from the water, arrived one after another at the starting point, ready to set off.

"Thump—thump—!"

This dragon boat race, regardless of rank...
A scholar who has passed the imperial examinations can row, a graduate who has passed the metropolitan examinations can steer, and even a commoner who has passed the county-level examinations can showcase their talents in the dragon boat race, as long as they have talent and their poems and essays are excellent.

Looking out, the river surface is covered with masts like a forest.

The elite dragon boat teams from all five counties of Jiangzhou Prefecture were deployed, and the students of the prefectural academy, dressed in blue robes, were on high alert.

There were also dragon boat teams made up of bare-chested strongmen from the Grand Canal, dragon boat teams made up of sons of noble families, and even the cooks and waiters of Zuixianlou (a famous restaurant chain) formed a "fragrant wine team".

On the river, hundreds of dragon boats gradually gathered, like a group of fish leaping in competition.

The gold-painted dragon head shimmered in the morning sun, and the colorful cloud patterns and waves painted on the boat's hull floated with the waves. From a distance, the entire river seemed to come alive.

The canal wharf in Jiangzhou Prefecture was bustling with activity.

A dark-colored ship silently disappeared amidst the hustle and bustle of the Dragon Boat Festival, quietly moored in a corner of the dock.

The three-story ship was entirely black, with the mythical beast head at the bow gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

The ship was drafted very deep, clearly carrying a heavy load.

The strangest thing is that no matter how the river wind howled, the banner embroidered with dark patterns remained motionless, as if it were imprisoned by an invisible force.

Inside the cabin, thirty-six mermaid oil lamps flickered with a ghastly green flame, illuminating the four walls as if they were in a ghostly realm.

Zhao Bingzhu, the head of the Zhao family, sat expressionlessly in the main seat, his pale knuckles rhythmically tapping the dark wooden table.
Behind him, twelve black-clad guards in bronze masks stood motionless like sculptures, with only a faint glint occasionally flashing in the eye sockets of their masks.

The long table was square, and demonic energy surged around it.
The Demon King Fish of the East Sea Demon Court was surrounded by pale golden scales, with eight demon generals standing behind him, their hands on their swords.

Also present was Shrimp Nineteen, the shrimp soldier captain who had been in charge of contacting the traitorous intellectuals. Its carapace was tinged with blood rust, and its pair of pincers opened and closed from time to time, making a teeth-grinding "click-click" sound.

Ao Li, the demon king of Taihu Demon Court, leaned lazily against the back of his chair, the demonic aura of a pair of dragon horns on his head appearing and disappearing, and the shadows of the seven demon generals behind him were cast on the cabin wall.

The Northern Marquis, with his fierce tiger-like eyes and the snow-white markings on his forehead that flickered between light and shadow, exuded a chilling white mist with every breath, which condensed into frost on the table.

"Distinguished generals, marquises, and kings..."

Zhao Bingzhu suddenly stopped knocking, his voice like a dull knife scraping bone, "It's time to make a decision!"

"Jiang Xingzhou!

In just a few months, three articles were published outside the county, and five were published in the prefecture.

With each article published by Dafu, the talent of the people of Jiangzhou Prefecture increases by one point!
The demon race's fortune weakens by one point!
Look at this! This child is not yet of age, but he already has the bearing of a great scholar.

I told you long ago, if this child isn't eliminated, he will surely become a great threat to the demon race! Yet you all have consistently failed to take it seriously!

Zhao Bingzhu squeezed out these three words through gritted teeth, his hatred seething.

Originally, he had been scheming to deal with Li Mo, the magistrate of Jiangyin County, and had no intention of targeting Jiang Xingzhou.

However, Jiang Xingzhou repeatedly thwarted his plans.

They even suppressed Zhao Zilu, the most talented and promising illegitimate son of the Zhao family and the top scholar in Jiangzhou, making the Zhao family's reputation in Jiangzhou Prefecture increasingly tarnished.

Even for this Dragon Boat Festival, Prefect Xue Chonghu did not invite the Zhao family to Wangjiang Pavilion.

If Jiang Xingzhou isn't killed, his hatred will remain unquenched!
Zhao Bingzhu slammed several yellowed handwritten books onto the table with a "thud," causing the flame of the oil lamp to tremble violently.

The booklet contained all the poems and articles written by Jiang Xingzhou.

The titles of those poems and essays were glaringly obvious in the candlelight!

"Seeking the Hermit in Vain - Deep in the Clouds", "Grass", "Bodhisattva's Charm - Ode to Feet", "Shooting the Pot", "The Ballad of the Frontier - Stone Arrow", "Looking at the Waterfall at Mount Lu", "A Plum Blossom - The Moon is Full over the West Tower", "Inscription of My Humble Abode".

The demon generals, demon marquises, and demon kings picked up the booklet.

"Slaying a dragon?"

Ao Li's gaze swept over "Shooting the Pot," where the ink was grim and clearly read: "[Drunk, leaning against the screen, laughing at Zhou Chu, who once slew the dragon in vain!]"

It couldn't help but scoff, "Interesting! A mere brat dares to spout such arrogant words—to slay a dragon!"

The words suddenly stopped.

Ao Li suddenly remembered that in Wuxi County on the shore of Taihu Lake, Jiang Xingzhou had used the Stone Edge Arrow to kill the turtle demon general with the strongest defense under his command.

Who knows, this guy might actually dare to slay a dragon!

"Look at this poem, 'The Song of the Frontier: The Stone Arrow,' [The forest is dark, the grass rustles in the wind, the general draws his bow at night. At dawn, he searches for the white feather, only to find it embedded in the stone's edge!] The word 'tiger' is not mentioned throughout the poem, yet everyone can immediately tell that 'The forest is dark, the grass rustles in the wind'—this line clearly means shooting a tiger demon, but it has mistakenly hit the stone's edge!"

The white-browed marquis laughed in exasperation, his golden eyes blazing with rage.

It was all too familiar with the story of General Li Guang accidentally shooting a stone ridge.

Jiang Xingzhou wrote this matter into a poem for the Da Mansion. When it spread throughout the world, the tiger demon clan would naturally be the ones to lose face!
"So many works by Dafu. They are all very well written!"

The Imperial Fish Demon General carefully read through each poem and essay, his pupils now completely turning vertical. He took a deep breath with an almost greedy air, his expression revealing a hint of intoxication.

This is not surprising.

The demon race naturally cultivates human classics and reads human articles frequently, so their ability to appreciate and analyze is naturally extremely high.

Any one of the eight poems or essays in this booklet would be enough to cause a frenzy among countless demon soldiers and generals in the East Sea Demon Court.

Upon hearing this, all the demons present fell silent.

The shark oil in the bronze lamp crackled and popped, reflecting the ever-changing expressions on the faces of the demons.

Although the contents annoyed them.

But one has to admit, this young man's literary talent is truly terrifying!
Every piece is a masterpiece written at the county level or above, with most of them even reaching the prefecture level!

They had never seen such astonishing talent in any other human scholar!

However, upon closer examination of his works, each poem and lyric is rich in detail.

Only the title of "The Humble Abode" remains, completely devoid of ink.

Where is the full text of "The Humble Abode Inscription"?

Xia Shijiu suddenly asked a question, his voice particularly jarring in the silence.

"If you want to know the full text, you can ask around the streets and alleys! Everyone in Jiangzhou, young and old, knows this article!"

Zhao Bingzhu's brows twitched immediately. He glared at the clueless Xia Shijiu and said coldly.

How could he dare to put pen to paper?
If a traitorous scholar copies this inscription, at best his literary works will crack, and at worst his literary spirit will collapse!

The traitorous scholars of the Zhao family are now terrified at the mere sight of the title "The Humble Abode Inscription," let alone the thought of copying its contents by hand!
However, he couldn't very well say such an embarrassing thing in front of the Demon General and the Demon King.

"Don't get bogged down in these trivial details!"

The Demon King Ao Li's eyes flashed with cold light, and his voice was deep and rumbling like thunder: "The most important thing right now is how to get rid of Jiang Xingzhou!"

"He's holed up in Jiangzhou Prefecture, with Xue Chonghu and Zhou Yuanjun in charge. The city is heavily guarded. If our demon general rashly sneaks in, it's tantamount to walking into a trap!"

In the human city, any hint of demonic energy would be suppressed by the aura of literature and Taoism, making it impossible to move an inch.

"but--"

Zhao Bingzhu smiled sinisterly, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table. "The dragon boat race, however, is a godsend!"

"Hundreds of dragon boats were racing together, creating extreme chaos on the river!"

To win first place, the candidates from each boat will frantically display their literary skills—the wind and thunder will surge, the clouds will churn, and the atmosphere will be chaotic and boiling. Who can discern the murderous intent within?
Assassins can hide on neighboring boats and strike when the literary arts erupt; or they can sneak from the bottom of the river and use the turbid waves as cover to take lives!

What's even more ingenious is that... even if they succeed, they can fake it as an accidental collision of dragon boats.

This is the best, and perhaps only, opportunity. Once you miss this Dragon Boat Festival race, it will be almost impossible to find such a suitable opportunity again!
I personally planned this operation and mobilized the traitorous intellectuals!

But I still need your help; I urge all the demon generals to dispatch their elite demon warriors to my command!

Zhao Bingzhu licked his chapped lips, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

"Can!"

The white-browed marquis's golden eyes suddenly narrowed to needles, and a deep tiger's roar rolled from his throat, "This is the only chance!"

"Very well! I will send the three demon generals—turtle, crab, and snake—to assist you. This battle must end in victory!"

Ao Li's dragon scales gleamed faintly in the candlelight.

"But there is one thing I don't understand!"

Shrimp Nineteen suddenly spoke, its shell gleaming with a bluish-gray luster under the lamplight.

"speak!"

The Imperial Fish Demon General's scales flared slightly; it was increasingly impressed by the meticulous thinking of Shrimp Nineteen.

"What if Jiang Xingzhou wasn't even on the dragon boat?"

Its claws tapped uneasily on the deck, as if to say, "All our plans have been for naught!"

The hall suddenly became dead silent.

The demon lords looked at each other in bewilderment, while the dragon whiskers of the demon king Ao Li moved without wind.

These shrimp soldiers revealed a fatal oversight—they had no way of knowing for sure whether Jiang Xingzhou had boarded the ship or not!
Zhao Bingzhu's expression changed drastically, his knuckles clenched until they turned white, and he snarled, "This is the only chance, there's no turning back." He slammed his hand on the corner of the table, "Then let's gamble that he will board the ship!"
-
Asking for a monthly ticket!
(End of this chapter)