Superhumans of the Dome City-Chapter 1407 - 17: The Only History

years ago, Divine Capital City.

The gray sky resembled a dirty curtain, with the afternoon sun struggling hard to pierce through a few holes in the thick clouds. Situ Yi sat on the second floor of a teahouse, ordered a pot of good tea, and listened to the opera playing on the old television.

"I remember the day we first met. The weather was gloomy that day too. I was shouting out of boredom on the streets of Divine Capital City, wanting to vent my frustration, not expecting anyone in the vast crowd to hear my voice," said the Hidden Law Master.

He stood by the railing of the teahouse, looking indifferent as he gazed at the bustling crowd below, like a child watching ants carrying food under a tree. Situ Yi listened with his eyes closed to the opera for a while, then slowly said, "Speaking of melancholic words, a true friend indeed harbors a heavy heart."

"I can’t feel good," said the Hidden Law Master. "You caused a ruckus in the Capital for your amusement, but I’m the one who has to clean up the mess. These past few days, I’ve heard so much petty talk from useless officials and felt the panic of idle drifters. At times like this, I wish I could punch this useless city to smithereens, just to free myself completely."

"If you don’t intend to, why speak such mad words?" Situ Yi laughed. "I have four classmates, each with their own skills. If you need, I could introduce one or two."

"Spare me. In my current incomplete state, I’m no match for them. You, Situ Yi, are bold enough to associate with me, but if those loyalists knew, they’d probably wish to put me to shame," the Hidden Law Master coldly smiled. "I’ve gathered enough information. I wish to see what the current emperor is thinking. Don’t interfere."

"Your servant obeys~~~"

Situ Yi replied casually, seeing the Hidden Law Master walk out of the teahouse, and immediately turned his head. His attention was not on his friend at all but was instead enthralled by the opera on the television. Only when the performance ended, and he exclaimed ’good’, did he reluctantly put down his teacup and left the teahouse.

On the way back to the Imperial Academy Supervisor, Situ Yi stopped by the medical school and chatted briefly with a sickly friend, who irritably told him to get lost. He then went to the record shop, spending a lot of money on some precious vinyl records. He carefully tucked the old records into his sleeve and brought them to his dormitory in the Inner Gate.

Situ Yi’s wooden cottage was a lakeside water abode. The barrier within the Imperial Academy Supervisor maintained an ideal climate. As soon as he opened the door, he saw shimmering green spring waters, reminiscent of his childhood home in the Water Town. He neatly placed the records on the bookshelf, then took out a map of Divine Capital City and made small annotations with a pen, writing "Garden Walk," "Soul Departure," "Frightening Dream," all titles of the operas on the vinyl records.

After finishing writing, he put the pen away with satisfaction. Pulling open the curtains to look across the lake, he saw a black-clad artist lying on the roof of a cottage on the opposite bank, while a gray-haired youth stood among the tall grasses by the lakeside, shouting to him.

"Mr. Zhang asked me to tell you something!" Gongsun Ce shouted. "If you don’t hand in your reflection soon, you can get lost!"

"Didn’t do anything wrong, why the hell should I write a reflection? I’m not writing it," Yan Qi replied dismissively.

"You can’t even write a thousand-word reflection, are you a pig?"

"Not even a word for something so useless. You might as well write it for me since you’re so free," Yan Qi yawned. "If you have time to lie on the roof and sleep, then you have time to write," Gongsun Ce adjusted his glasses. "You want my help, fine, but it won’t be free. Tell me what’s up with your eye condition."

Yan Qi turned his head halfway, unusually refraining from his usual retorts: "For someone so tactful and talkative, you can’t read the room now, can you? Have you heard anyone in the Inner Gate mention this?"

Gongsun Ce rested his hands behind his head, lying down carelessly on the grass, suddenly saying, "Have I ever told you about my hometown?"

"I’m not interested in listening to your crap."

"My hometown is a place with a lot of rules. Everyone had mutual understanding not to touch each other’s privacy, and even friends who saw each other every day never asked about the other’s past. We all thought this was basic understanding and respect, that maintaining distance was good for everyone", Gongsun Ce said. "Until we grew up, we realized how ridiculously stupid this rule was. It only kept everyone distant, not taking a step forward. In reality, true friends should understand each other, speak candidly, say it if you want, or don’t if you don’t. Friendship isn’t so weak that it would break over something so trivial."

"It seems your hometown is full of fools," Yan Qi snorted. "I don’t want to talk about it, get lost."

"If you don’t want to talk, then write your own reflection." Gongsun Ce shrugged, "When you have time, help me take a look at how this move I designed is?"

The atmosphere around the two suddenly froze, as if even the space had turned into stone, making it hard to breathe. Gongsun Ce suddenly struck without warning, a slanted green blade of light slashing out, like spring water from the lake turning into a lethal weapon. Such a sharp killing move was absolutely not meant for sparring; it emerged to take lives. Yet Yan Qi didn’t even raise his head, merely wielded a pen to sketch a black ink sheath, catching the blade light.

"Failing to paint a tiger, you ended up with something like a dog, pathetic stuff," Yan Qi mocked.

Gongsun Ce was unconvinced: "Why the hell not? My Rashamon Blade is absolutely top-notch in concept, inspired by the absolute skills of a blade master, emphasizing a kill-on-sight in a sealed-time scenario..."

"What’s the use of high concepts if you are using your own methods to replicate others’ supreme skills? But are you a blade master?" Yan Qi sneered, "You know nothing about blade techniques, you’re learning for what? Even if you slash a thousand times, you’re not equal to the Rashamon’s actual cut."