Beware Of Chicken Chapter 294 v7c41: Sunrise and Sunset

Formerly:

Chen Yang, the Young Master of the Framed Sun Sect, occupied the most prominent position within the Sect grounds. His gaze remained fixed upon the awe-inspiring Dueling Peaks. Although the peaks were partially obscured by rain and mist, their sheer majesty remained undeniable. The mountain stood cleft in two, housing the Earthly Arena within the central basin. At its zenith sat the Thunder of the Earth—a gargantuan gong that appeared akin to a smaller sun when the skies cleared.

Yang listened to the rhythmic patter of rain against the pavilion roof, breathing deeply as he mimicked the contemplative posture of his forefathers. This structure had been deliberately positioned to capture the perfect perspective of the mountains. Nothing hindered the view, allowing anyone seated on this bench to witness the setting sun glide flawlessly through the mountain gap before being obscured by the Thunder of the Earth.

The Dueling Peaks served as a battlefield where individuals could hone their martial prowess, yet more importantly, it symbolized unity—a testament to the solidarity of their ancestors.

This sentiment had been the primary inspiration for Yang’s progenitor: a budding future framed by a shared wonder, acting as a monument to their enduring peace.

However, the original family manor had been situated on the mountain's opposite slope to catch the sunrise. Following the Great Ruination, the estate was relocated to face the sunset. As the morning brilliance faded into the crimson glow of embers, the original meaning slipped away; their Cultivation philosophies became inextricably linked to the view itself rather than the purpose it once served.

Consequently, the light of dawn shifted into a muted, fiery halo—a constrained blaze rather than free-flowing potential. Yang figured this was fitting, given the depths to which the Honoured Ancestor had seen them descend.

Their history contained fewer shocks than others. Their progenitor largely embodied what the Sect expected. Chen Xan was an unparalleled poet—initially a political official, eventually rising to become the Chief Poet for Lord Xiaoshi. The Sect retained many of his preserved writings, including his private works. Their founder was not merely a grand wordsmith, but also an aficionado of frankly juvenile poetry regarding bodily functions.

These were poems he historically recited to Lord Xiaoshi, who consistently found them uproarious, a fact verified multiple times via their Sect’s memory crystals.

For the Framed Sun Sect, little adjustment was needed beyond acknowledging that their power drew more from light than fire. Their ancestor utilized a brush in his arts, wielding light like paint upon the canvas of reality. Whatever he inscribed manifested through a spill of Auric Ink, bringing his will into existence.

To date, only Yang had succeeded in producing a single line of shimmering gold, an act that reduced him to his knees, utterly drained. Despite this, he remained the most advanced student in his Sect.

During the Qi anomaly throughout the winter, a storage room wall within the basement had shattered, concealing a long-lost brush belonging to Honoured Ancestor Xan. The handle matched Yang’s height and the girth of his torso. No one had dared touch the artifact yet, even though it still harbored traces of his Qi.

Yang frequently pondered whether their ancestor would take pride in their current involvement with the Azure Alliance.

He sighed at his drifting thoughts, distracted by a singular cause.

Master Rou was approaching.

The mere mention of that name resonated throughout all the sects of the Azure Hills, keeping everyone on edge as they prepared in case they were graced with the honor of hosting him. The moment he entered the Grass Sea, every sect initiated final, frantic security checks.

Cai Xiulan only felt certain that he would visit the Hermetic Iron Sect and the Grand Ravine Sect. All other stops were dictated solely by his unpredictable whims.

Yang doubted the man would pay them a visit, even if their proximity to the Dueling Peaks suggested otherwise. It seemed more likely he would bypass them, seeing no reason for a detour.

Yet, the moment this thought crossed Yang’s mind, a pulse rippled through the air. A surge of Qi in the Profound Realm erupted high above. Instantly, the entire Sect stirred to life. Everyone previously meditating or waiting rushed into the rain to cast their eyes toward the heavens.

The clouds churned and then parted.

A dragon began its descent.

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"We humbly offer our gratitude to your Master for the respect shown to us, and we bid him welcome to our home; let no door be barred to him, and let no obstacle impede his journey," the Sect Master of the Framed Sun Sect declared, reciting the traditional welcome while bowing before the dragon.

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Yang could only stare at the regal beast… before his gaze drifted upward to observe the perfect circle carved into the cloud cover. Sunshine streamed through, bathing the Sect in a halo of light.

His singular impression was that he had not envisioned the dragon in this way.

Chen Yang held the unique privilege of counting Image Master Yun Ren and his younger brother, Gou Ren, among his friends. They had ignited his burgeoning passion. They had fought alongside one another during the conflict at the Dueling Peaks against the Shrouded Mountain Sect, and now he frequently enjoyed drinks with Gou Ren. Despite lacking the Image Master’s expertise, Gou Ren was quite skilled, and they both enjoyed discussing image recording. Heck, Yang had even been promoted following those meetings, leading to a conversation with the Grand Marshal. Chen Yang now held the official title of "Historian of the Dueling Peaks Restoration," meaning his image-recording efforts would be immortalized for generations to come.

Regardless, the point remained that Chen Yang had witnessed numerous recordings shared by Yun Ren featuring the dragon smiling, washing dishes, or simply lazing around and gorging itself. Those records, coupled with tales from Tigu, Yin, and even Gou Ren describing the "lazy, gluttonous fish," left him expecting something… far less grand than this.

He had not anticipated the sheer majesty of encountering a dragon in the flesh. Lord Wa Shi was powerful, far exceeding Chen Yang’s capacity. Heck, Wa Shi was stronger than Chen Yang’s father, Chen Tai, the Sect Master.

Yang inwardly berated himself. Of course, Wa Shi held immense power. He was a dragon; who had ever encountered a weak one? Furthermore, he belonged to Master Rou. Anything the man touched turned to gold. Two years ago, Chen Yang might have claimed parity in cultivation with the Image Master and Gou Ren.

Now both had surpassed him. It was somewhat irritating… yet expressing such anger served no purpose, as Master Rou and his disciples were the very reasons Yang was becoming stronger and finally witnessing the glory of his ancestors.

Wa Shi considered the Sect Master’s words and offered a nod. He tilted his head, seemingly listening to something unheard.

"My Master approaches to partake of your hospitality," Wa Shi announced. "He shall arrive shortly."

"We are fully prepared to receive him," his father responded. "Do you desire any refreshments while we await his arrival, Lord Dragon?"

At this, Wa Shi brightened, and his regal facade faltered, a spark of eagerness appearing in his eyes… before the dragon caught himself and regained his composure.

"Please. You have my gratitude," the dragon replied, turning his attention toward the nearby light refreshments. The aperture in the clouds expanded gradually as the storm subsided—though whether due to nature or Wa Shi’s own power, Yang could not say.

The Sect resumed its waiting stance while the dragon began questioning a servant about the various offerings.

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Their wait was brief.

Yang, having previously sensed Master Rou’s power, felt it first as they were enveloped just as they had been surrounded by the storm. A mountain seemed to draw near; not through blaring announcements, but as if it strictly belonged here. It felt no need to loom or intimidate. It simply existed—quiet and understated.

Then, he spotted the carriage through the open gates, approaching steadily while framed by the dual images of the Dueling Peaks: the literal mountains in the distance and the architecture of their gate.

The structure mimicked the Peaks, with the main battlements rising to points surrounding a circular gate. This motif repeated throughout the compound. Every door and window was as round as the sun. Whitewashed walls displayed inlaid golden rays extending from the gates, and the ground-level stonework formed a mosaic representing a summer sky.

Ancient paper mulberry trees cast shade, the thousands-of-years-old giants swaying in the breeze while occasionally providing bark for paper. The southern plantations produced the region’s finest paper, much of which the Sect claimed for themselves. Calligraphy had always remained a pillar of their Sect’s art.

Amidst this, the thirty-six Sect members and nearly three hundred servants stood waiting.

They remained silent. The mountain drew closer, accompanied by other presences in the Profound and Spiritual Realms.

Yang swallowed hard. They were indeed about to enter the realm of titans. Master Rou’s influence was such that the compound itself reacted. Wall inlays began to shimmer, vibrating as if to perform a task, the contained light dancing with elemental colors—reminiscent of the thrones at the Dueling Peaks. The effect faded rapidly, yet it seemed as though the buildings themselves sought to welcome their guests.

The carriage crossed the threshold, exiting the main thoroughfare. The Spirit Beast pulling the carriage observed them with mild interest, though few paid it any mind, for the carriage door suddenly opened.

Master Rou stepped out, followed by his wife, Lady Meiling, who carried Tigu’s little brother, Zhuye. Behind them walked a woman in servant’s attire—a charming black-and-white ensemble—who bore a striking resemblance to the Image Master. The final three individuals were clearly more servants.

"We pay our respects to Master Rou!" the group chorused, all wondering how the meeting would unfold.

"Thank you for the warm welcome, Sect Master Chen Tai," the man said, his voice deep and warm. "You possess a beautiful home—and an even more beautiful view."

Relief rippled through the group, followed by a surge of pride. They had been granted immense face by Master Rou! He was pleased with their Sect, regardless of how weak it might have seemed in comparison.

They took this as their cue to rise. Yang looked up and stiffened.

Master Rou stood there, smiling. The Dueling Peaks rose on either side, and the sun sat directly behind his head, forming a radiant corona of light.

It was a spectacular image, and Yang’s hands moved of their own accord, grasping his recording crystal. He raised it before realizing he was about to record Master Rou without consent—yet the man seemed entirely undisturbed. He noticed the movement, caught Yang’s eyes, and gave a slight nod, granting his permission.

…what a benevolent individual.

The crystal chimed, capturing a perfect shot.

What a once-in-a-lifetime encounter!

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I smiled for the camera, fairly pleased with my progress. My standard greeting was working better than anticipated. It was amusing how easily one could make everyone beam with pride, but hey, if the method works, it works. If I could use this for every meeting, it would be wonderful. All I had to do was offer thanks and compliment their cool house!

I’d better get used to it, as I had plenty more to do.

Moreover, it helped that they possessed such a lovely estate. It seemed far more traditional and mundane compared to the Ironfields, but the absence of harsh angles and the smooth, circular design definitely looked stylish.

Washy also genuinely loved his duties. While he had been somewhat unenthusiastic about acting as my "herald" at first, he had really embraced it now that he knew it involved flying ahead, announcing my arrival, and then gorging himself on interesting new things until I appeared.

Still, we couldn't get complacent. At some point, someone wouldn't be happy to see us… but today wasn't that day.

It certainly bolstered my confidence, and I found myself relaxing as introductions concluded. This served primarily as a practice run… but there was no reason not to give it my best effort.

Let’s discover what an "average" sect in the Azure Hills looks like.