Chapter 35: I Am Willing to Join the Church of the Water God
Clap, clap! Crisp applause echoed through the council hall.
Lei Bao brought his hands together, a gleam of approval shining in his eyes. "Lord Long Ziyun is as sharp as ever—one word and he sees straight through. Indeed, this is precisely what I meant."
He rose to his feet and strolled to the window, gazing out at the bustling streets beyond. His voice took on a deeper, more reflective tone. "In truth, I have long since been a member of the Church of the Water God myself. At first, I was no different from you gentlemen—wary, guarded against this rapidly rising sect. They expanded too fast. They touched too many people's interests. I thought of suppressing them. Containing them. Only later did I understand how foolish those thoughts truly were."
He turned around, his gaze sweeping across the three city lords. "In this era of ceaseless change and upheaval, better to ride the current than to barricade oneself behind walls, only to be swallowed by the flood of the times. Better to cooperate and seek shared prosperity than to lock horns and lose everything in the end. Only thus can one grasp a bright future."
Lei Bao returned to his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against the tabletop. "The Coagulation Powder and other elixirs you gentlemen have just tasted are but the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the Church of the Water God's true capabilities. What you stand to gain by joining the church is far, far more than a few hundred or thousand extra gold soul coins in your monthly coffers."
A meaningful smile crossed his face. "Even the delicacies at this banquet were prepared by a young culinary prodigy of the church. I trust you've already sensed—it's not merely the taste that's extraordinary. The food itself carries a unique essence of soul power."
The three city lords exchanged glances and sank into deep contemplation. Feng Chuixue softly swayed his folded fan. Yan Luo rubbed his stubbled chin. Long Ziyun's eyes flickered, as though weighing gains and losses in his mind.
They simply could not fathom what kind of bewitching potion the Church of the Water God had poured into Lei Bao to make this ever-calculating city lord so utterly devoted—devoted enough to personally lobby them to join.
Sensing the moment was ripe, Lei Bao clapped his hands once more and called out, "Ke'er, come in and serve tea to your three uncles!"
"Yes, Father." Lei Ke stepped inside in answer, an exquisite teapot cradled in his hands, his stride poised and calm.
The instant the three city lords got a clear look at Lei Ke, every one of them drew a sharp breath. Feng Chuixue's fan froze midair. Yan Luo bolted upright in his seat. Even Long Ziyun, the most composed of them all, couldn't help his pupils contracting sharply.
They remembered, all too clearly. Several years ago, Lei Bao's only son Lei Ke had been ambushed by a thousand-year savage beast while hunting for a soul ring. He'd lost an arm in that tragic encounter. When word had reached them back then, they'd even sent envoys with condolences.
Yet now, standing before them was Lei Ke with both arms whole, moving freely. Not a trace—not a shadow—of his former disability remained.
"This... how is this even possible?!" Yan Luo, the blunt and burly man, was the first to lose his restraint. He pointed at Lei Ke's arm, his voice trembling. "Old Lei... was this the work of the Church of the Water God?"
Lei Bao, however, only put on a look of complete bewilderment. "What? Old Luo, what are you talking about? I don't quite follow."
Feng Chuixue let out a cold scoff. His fan snapped shut with a sharp crack. "Lei Bao, spare us the feigned ignorance. Your son's severed arm—we heard full well of it back then. Now his arms are whole and sound. And on our way here, we saw no small number of disabled commoners making their way toward your city. The connection hardly needs to be spelled out."
His eyes pinned Lei Bao with a piercing stare. "It must be that the Church of the Water God has mastered some miraculous method—one capable of healing even injuries thought beyond all hope of recovery. And this is the reason you've pledged yourself so utterly to their cause. Am I wrong?"
Lei Bao inwardly chuckled. Feng Chuixue really was the craftiest city lord he knew—he'd hit on the crux of it in a single breath. But outwardly, his expression remained perfectly unruffled. He shook his head. "Brother Feng, I'm afraid you've got it wrong this time. My Ke'er was saved by a wandering divine physician. What connection does that have with the Church of the Water God? You really shouldn't jump to such baseless conclusions."
Feng Chuixue cursed inwardly: Lei Bao, you old fox, can't even be bothered to put effort into your lies! Everyone under heaven knows that even the Healing Douluo Wang Xian'er herself cannot regenerate severed limbs. Where in this world would some 'wandering divine physician' capable of such a feat even come from?
Yan Luo tried a different tack, aiming for an opening through Lei Ke. With a genial smile, he asked, "Worthy nephew, come, tell your uncle—how was your arm healed?"
But Lei Ke only smiled modestly and poured tea respectfully for the three city lords. "Uncle Yan jests. Your junior here simply had good fortune, that's all—happened to meet a divine physician."
It was clear father and son had settled on their story long ago. No matter how the three probed, not a drop leaked through.
Just as the atmosphere was settling into stalemate, Long Ziyun—silent all the while—suddenly slammed his palm against the table and rose to his feet. Feng Chuixue and Yan Luo assumed he was about to fall out with Lei Bao, and looks of anticipation crept onto their faces, eager for the show.
But what Long Ziyun said next utterly blindsided them both.
"Fine! I, Long Ziyun, am willing to join the Church of the Water God. I shall serve with all the loyalty of a hound and the strength of a horse!"
His gaze was unwavering, his voice ringing with finality. "Within two weeks, my Icewolf City shall raise a branch hall of the Water God Church no lesser in grandeur than the City Lord's Manor itself. From this day forward, all Water God Church personnel entering or leaving my city shall be exempt from all fees. All who trade under the church's banner shall be taxed at the lowest rate permitted by law."
Lei Bao, his face betraying nothing, produced a contract and slid it across the table. Long Ziyun took the document. Without so much as glancing at its contents, he signed his name, bit his thumb, and pressed a blood-seal beside it. The entire process flowed like water—not a sliver of hesitation.
Feng Chuixue and Yan Luo stared, utterly dumbstruck. The look in Long Ziyun's eyes had been deadly serious. This was no jest.
They knew Long Ziyun and Lei Bao were close—but close enough for so monumental a decision to be made with such swift, unflinching resolve? The two of them turned in unison toward Lei Bao, their eyes full of questioning.
Lei Bao merely shrugged and spread his hands. "Don't look at me, you two. I haven't done a thing."
Like hell you haven't! Feng Chuixue and Yan Luo cursed in silent unison. You old fox must have promised him some sky-high reward in secret!
Lei Bao extended his hand toward Long Ziyun with a smile. "Welcome, Lord Long, to the Church of the Water God. Rest assured—Her Holiness our Pope is compassionate beyond measure and vast of heart. She would never let any follower walk away the poorer."
He paused, and added meaningfully, "What one gives shall surely be repaid. And that repayment, I guarantee, will more than satisfy."
Turning to Feng Chuixue and Yan Luo, his tone grew heavier, more deliberate. "My lords, I wonder—how have your deliberations fared?"
"This opportunity is one in a thousand. It is only for the sake of our old bonds that I invited you to share in this great enterprise. If you are unwilling, Lei Bao will not force the matter. However..."
His gaze abruptly sharpened to a blade's edge. "Let me speak plainly, so there's no misunderstanding later. Should you one day regret your choice and seek to join when the doors have closed—it will not be so easy as it is today."
The atmosphere in the council hall thickened palpably. Feng Chuixue traced the ribs of his folded fan. Yan Luo's brow furrowed deeply. Both men were locked in the grip of a fierce internal struggle.
Outside the window, the sun dipped low, its dying rays slanting through the lattice and casting long shadows across the smooth stone floor. The fragrance of tea curled lazily through the air, yet it couldn't dispel the gravity that filled the room.
Lei Bao savored his tea with unhurried ease, as if utterly unconcerned with their decision. Long Ziyun sat quietly to one side, but a light of deep wisdom glimmered in his eyes—as if he were already gazing upon a far-flung future, visible to him alone.