As the rain grew fiercer, the view on the river beca harder to see clearly, like observing flowers through fog — their shape lost.
“Splash…”
The heavy rain drumd on the pavilion roof, drowning out all other sounds around it.
Seated in the Long Pavilion by the river, he fished amidst the downpour.
For a mont, it was impossible to tell which splashes in the water ca from fish, and which from the rain itself.
Though it made for a uniquely beautiful scene, for so, this rainstorm signaled disaster.
“Splash, splash…”
Mud-stained boots treaded through puddles. A figure in a rain cape and bamboo hat walked along the riverbank. But the rain was simply too heavy, soaking every layer of his clothes.
The rain-caped man gazed gravely at the torrents pouring down onto the riverlands below, his worries deepening.
“What is to be done…”
“Heavens above!”
He thumped a fist against his chest, eyes filled with sorrow.
“Splash…”
Rainwater dripped from the edge of his bamboo hat. His clouded eyes seed to see a great calamity approaching.
He moved unsteadily, cautiously inching closer to the river’s edge. Descending the stone steps, he peered at the carved watermark on the massive riverbank rock.
The water level of the Tongtian River had already surpassed its highest recorded point in nearly seventy years… and was still rising.
The man beneath the rain cape trembled as he stared at the carved mark.
Perhaps from rainwater in his eyes, or sothing else, his eyes were bloodshot, unnerving to behold.
Rainwater gathered into streams, flowing down the banks into the Tongtian River.
“Clack…”
A sound echoed.
The rain-caped man turned. His gaze caught a small stone dislodged by the flowing water, now tumbling down the stone steps.
Though small, propelled by the current, it shot towards him with surprising speed.
He tried to dodge, but it was too late.
“Thump.”
The stone struck his right knee. His leg buckled instantly, his balance gone.
“Plop.”
His bamboo hat hit the river surface and was swept away.
“Gurgle, gurgle…”
He gulped down several mouthfuls of river water while struggling to claw his way back to the bank.
But the current was too strong. The thick, waterlogged rain cape dragged him down, making resistance impossible.
“Help!”
“Is anyone there…!”
The roar of the rain swallowed his cries. Helpless, the current carried him downstream.
In monts, he vanished beneath the river’s surface, swept away to an unknown fate.
…
The Long Pavilion remained profoundly peaceful.
Chen Changsheng opened his eyes. His hand instinctively patted his side, finding nothing.
He paused, unable to suppress a sigh.
His gaze returned to the river’s surface. He waited, but no fish took the bait. He finally realized the Tongtian River’s fish seed to have disappeared from this stretch.
Just as he considered reeling in his line, his focus pierced the veiling rain and mist. A bobbing shape floated through the water, drifting downstream toward him.
“Hmm?”
Chen Changsheng blinked, watching as the figure drifted nearer and nearer.
He hesitated only a mont. Then his eyes flicked to the fishing pole in his hand.
Chen Changsheng extended two fingers, lightly tapping the pole.
The fishing line lengthened, glowing with a faint Golden Light.
“Go!”
He cast the line. The enchanted thread snaked out across the water, seeking the drifting figure.
The person in the river beca entangled. Chen Changsheng steadily reeled the pole back. The form moved closer.
As the figure neared the pavilion, Chen Changsheng raised a hand, brushing the air. A gentle breeze lifted the limp body clear of the treacherous current.
“Drip… drip…”
The man, soaked through and pale-faced, collapsed onto the pavilion floor, even his pallid eyes seed washed white.
“Ca to fish, yet pulled up a person instead.”
Chen Changsheng stroked his chin, observing the figure before him.
The man’s face was deeply lined, hair a mix of black and white, speaking of weathered hardship.
Chen Changsheng guided a wisp of Golden Light towards the man. It flowed from the tip of the nose down into his lungs.
A sharp cough followed imdiately.
“Cough… cough…”
Several mouthfuls of river water expelled from the man’s mouth.
Color slowly returned to his ashen face. His ragged breathing cald.
Seeing him recover, Chen Changsheng offered no further aid. He simply picked up his fishing pole and resud his task.
His eyes scanned the river below, a subtle gleam flickering within them. A knowing smile touched his lips as he addressed the waters: “I say, Dragon Lord, haven’t you played enough?”
Beneath the river’s dark surface, countless fish swam in every direction…
Except for the stretch of river directly beneath the Long Pavilion. Not a single fish could be seen there.
No wonder Chen Changsheng couldn’t catch any.
All the fish near his pavilion had been driven away. Only one being observed this scene from the riverbed – a great, ancient dragon seated below, an amused smile on its face.
Ying Zheng, the Old Dragon King, watched the blue-robed figure sitting calmly in the pavilion through the flickering water surface. He grinned widely, his voice rumbling upwards: “Whatever! I still lose a treasure, so I must find so compensation elsewhere!”
From the pavilion, Chen Changsheng responded with a helpless shake of his head. “You are a Dragon King, after all. Must you resort to such childish tricks?”
“Childish tricks are my expertise!” The Old Dragon King Ying Zheng chuckled deeply. Then he rose from his riverbed seat. “You carry on with your fishing, Master Chen. This old dragon shall take his leave now! Hahaha…”
Chen Changsheng’s sharp eyes penetrated the water, catching a glimpse of the Old Dragon King’s smug departure. He sighed softly, his gaze returning to his pole.
“Fine then. I won’t fish for fish anymore.”
Chen Changsheng chuckled softly. A different plan ford. Since the Old Dragon King wanted to play dirty, he’d play that ga too.
With that, he began reeling in his pole.
A thoughtful gleam entered his eyes, as if searching for sothing.
Having fixed his target, Chen Changsheng cast his line again.
The hook sank into the Tongtian River… but didn’t drift downward. Instead, guided by his will, it began flowing steadily downstream along the current, tracing a path along the riverbed…
…heading unmistakably towards the distant entrance to the Riverbottom Dragon Palace.
This way, he wouldn’t even need to go to the palace.
Satisfaction blood within Chen Changsheng. He murmured aloud: “Rain winds above the river, currents churn beneath the waves. Marvelous. Truly marvelous.”
He spared a brief glance at the man he had pulled from the river earlier, then returned his full attention to this unusual ‘fishing’ expedition.
…
…
Outside the pavilion, the downpour continued. Along with the rain, the river surged higher.
Within just a few hours, it had risen two more inches – but those two inches made all the difference.
The intensity of the rain fluctuated – fiercely heavy one mont, briefly slackening the next – yet it never fully stopped.
Nine days of relentless rain. Nine days of the river roiling and expanding.
Upstream tributaries felt the strain. Farmlands vanished beneath the floodwaters. At the main upstream dam, the reservoir level pressed dangerously against its limit.
…
anwhile, back on the dry pavilion floor, the rescued man nad Mu Cailiang finally stirred. His breathing turned less labored; a hint of warmth returned to his cheeks.
If not for a fortunate encounter, the river current would have claid him for good.
“Cough…” Mu Cailiang choked out another cough. His fingers twitched. The eyes, tightly shut, sensed light and his surroundings creeping back in.
When he finally woke fully, his first instinct was to scramble upright, jerking his head around in confusion.
His gaze was dazed, bewildered. Only when he focused on the figure sitting calmly in front of him – the Man in Blue Robe – did fragnted mories start returning.
“Kind… Sir…?”
Chen Changsheng, hearing the voice behind him, turned.
When Mu Cailiang saw the face of the Man in Blue Robe clearly, he was montarily stunned.
This figure, holding the fishing pole, calmly angling beside the turbulent river, seed untouched by the mundane world, ethereal yet present.
Mu Cailiang struggled to make sense of it. His hoarse voice escaped: “Am I… am I dead?”
Chen Changsheng’s gaze flicked briefly back to the river before replying evenly, “Feel the pavilion’s pillar beside you. Give it a firm knock. If it hurts… that ans you’re still among the living.”
Realization dawned on Mu Cailiang’s face. “I… I’m still alive?!” He stared down at himself, understanding finally washing over him.
He pushed unsteadily to his kneeling position, bowing his head respectfully towards Chen Changsheng. “Was it you, Young Master, who saved this humble one?”
Chen Changsheng considered the question briefly. “Not precisely saving. I was simply fishing here. Happened to… reel you up.”
Mu Cailiang’s eyes widened.
“Reeled… up?”
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