Brian Carter could see things clearly. His teacher, Mr. Lane, had once told him: “For those who cultivate, the art of observing qi is a basic skill. Who is strong and who is weak, whose cultivation is higher or lower—you can usually tell at a glance. If you can’t see through the other’s cultivation, then there’s no need to compete in magic at all; it must mean the other’s cultivation is ten times higher than yours.”

That old Daoist, although all his vital energy was gathered in his chest and abdomen, forming a round, marble-like core, did not, like the yellow-robed Daoist, release his spiritual energy to envelop his whole body in a show of force. Yet his condensed true energy was several times stronger than that of the yellow-robed Daoist.

Chapter Two: The True Art of Black Water (Part Four)

After watching this round of magical combat, Brian Carter suddenly thought to himself, “Even I can tell that the old Daoist is far stronger than the yellow-robed Daoist. So why doesn’t the yellow-robed Daoist realize it? He looked so pleased with himself just now, as if victory was in his grasp, and it didn’t seem like he was pretending. Could it be that he really can’t see his opponent’s strength? Surely his skills can’t be worse than mine.”

Thinking this, Brian Carter felt it was unlikely. The spells the yellow-robed Daoist had displayed were clearly a hundred times more powerful than the shallow magic he himself had only practiced for a month or so. Unable to figure out this puzzle, he decided to return to the Daoist temple and ask his master.

At that moment, another burly man with a bristling beard leapt onto the high platform. Purple lightning crackled from his hands, making him look incomparably imposing. With a wave, he unleashed thunder, appearing as majestic as a deity. This time, the old Daoist was fully alert, not only transforming his horsetail whisk into a silver net, but also turning a strand of its silver threads into a whip, which danced like a dragon and nearly lashed the bearded man off the platform several times.

This round of magical combat was even more spectacular than the last. Brian Carter was completely absorbed, but when he glanced back, he noticed Emily Foster seemed distracted, her beautiful eyes fixed on someone in the crowd. Following her gaze, he happened to see the beggar playing with the red-scaled serpent, and was slightly taken aback, thinking, “What’s so interesting about that beggar? Emily Foster seems to bear a grudge against him. But if that beggar were to take the stage, I fear even those two together wouldn’t be his match.”

The old Daoist and the bearded man had been dueling for less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick when an imperial edict was delivered from the city tower, ordering the two sides to stop fighting and summoning both men to the palace for a banquet. The two men, each with a different expression, were led into the palace by a young eunuch, arousing much envy among those below the stage. Soon after, a foreign monk stepped onto the platform on a multicolored light, but before anyone could challenge him, another imperial edict summoned him into the palace as well.

Only now did Brian Carter understand: the mat-top magical duels didn’t necessarily have to produce a winner. As long as someone displayed their magical prowess, they would be summoned to the palace. Clearly, the Tang emperor didn’t care who won or lost; as long as someone was capable, he would invite them. The more people who could help him extend his life by a cycle, the better.

In the blink of an eye, thirteen or fourteen people had been summoned into the imperial palace. The young eunuchs bustled in and out, making for a lively scene. Those with no real skill, only a few tricks to fool ghosts, were eager but never summoned by the Tang emperor—clearly, there were experts at the emperor’s side who knew the real thing.

Brian Carter tried glancing up at the city wall, and saw a five-clawed golden dragon, like cloud or mist, coiling above the eaves. He couldn’t make out anything clearly. Only then did he realize that the saying “the emperor is a true dragon” was not false. But that five-clawed golden dragon looked on the verge of death, utterly spiritless, its decrepit state plain to see.

In no time, it was past noon. From the city tower, the chief eunuch announced the emperor’s great benevolence: all the mages participating in the Water and Land Assembly were to be rewarded with a banquet. Soon, palace attendants carried over a hundred banquet tables to Zhuque Avenue, and all the various strange and talented people took their seats. The dozen or so who had been selected for the palace, of course, received even better hospitality, far surpassing what was offered on Zhuque Avenue.

Brian Carter’s stomach rumbled, and he couldn’t help feeling a bit hungry. Emily Foster heard the sound and smiled sweetly, saying, “There must be plenty of food in the Minister’s residence, more than they can eat. Why don’t we sneak into the kitchen for something, then come back to watch more of the Water and Land Assembly?”

Brian Carter quickly shook his head and said, “We’ve already been out half the day, which is rare enough. If I don’t go back soon, my master will worry.”

Although the Water and Land Assembly had become ten times more exciting with the mat-top magical duels than the earlier street parade, Brian Carter knew these duels could easily last ten days or half a month without finishing, and he couldn’t just keep watching forever. Although his master, Mr. Lane, hadn’t told him to return early, Brian Carter cherished this opportunity to seek immortality, always keeping himself in check, not wanting to anger his master.

After all, life is but a hundred years, and time passes like a white colt flashing past a crack. Even an emperor longs for immortality. With such a great opportunity, Brian Carter’s resolve to pursue the Dao was firm. He forced down his restless desires and raised his hand to bid farewell to Emily Foster. Emily Foster looked very disappointed, but since she and Brian Carter were mere acquaintances, she didn’t know what words to use to persuade him to stay.

Besides, Emily Foster had come to Chang’an not to witness the Water and Land Assembly, but for another matter of great importance.