Chapter 101: Yun Hao's Miracle

The waters of the Fen River had begun to chill with the deepening autumn. As the sun lazily cast its rays upon the river, people were astonished to discover the surface littered with countless dead fish—a pale, glistening layer floating and bobbing on the water, a sight both eerie and unsettling.

In this stretch, the river’s current ran swift and turbulent, forming a massive whirlpool. The dead fish circled endlessly within it, creating a spectacle unseen for centuries. Crowds gathered along the riverbank, swelling to a sea of humanity before noon. Even the authorities were roused, dispatching hundreds of constables to maintain order along the shore.

Several young men skilled in swimming attempted to enter the water but were firmly restrained by the officers. The whirlpool’s force was treacherous; anyone venturing too close risked being sucked beneath the surface, with no chance of escape—even the sturdiest fishermen routinely steered clear of this monstrous vortex.

Yuan Tiangang stood on the riverbank, utterly shocked by the scene before him. He could not fathom how so many fish could have died overnight. The sheer number was staggering, a vast expanse of whiteness shimmering under the sun’s phosphorescent glare. This was no forgery; even if one tried to fabricate such a sight, gathering so many dead fish at once was impossible. He had already sent men to investigate, confirming that no large-scale fishing had occurred near Jinyang in recent days. If Yun Hao intended to manipulate the fish supply, it would take thousands of pounds of fish, which could not vanish silently into the Fen River’s surface like this.

“Senior brother, that boy’s words might be true. Could he really bring these fish back to life?” A Taoist, standing behind Yuan Tiangang, spoke with a tone that betrayed his high status, evidenced by his ornate robes.

“Let’s wait and see. If he truly possesses the art of resurrection, then what use is exhausting all the Dao’s wealth? Our entire pursuit is immortality. Should this technique be obtained, it would be the Dao’s greatest achievement,” Yuan Tiangang’s eyes brimmed with hope. The power to restore life was a feat many accomplished cultivators yearned for but never attained. If he could master it, his name would shine throughout eternity.

“That’s unnecessary, senior brother. With the Dao’s might, what harm could a mere child possibly do?” The other Taoist sneered dismissively. The boy was only eight years old. Even with the backing of the Duke of Tang’s household, he was no match for the Dao. United, the Dao sect could easily overpower one child. Forcing him to reveal the secret of resurrection wouldn’t require such trouble.

“Wuchen, be cautious with your words! Cultivation is the refinement of the heart. Harboring such thoughts makes you no different from a common bandit. Do not speak like this again; should Master hear you, you’ll be in trouble.” Yuan Tiangang did not even turn around. He knew well his junior brother’s temperament—brave and combative, skilled in martial arts but uninterested in spiritual cultivation. Just as Buddhism has its Vajra protectors, so too does the Dao, with enforcers to maintain order. Without a few formidable fighters, the sect could not hold its ground. Thus, their master often turned a blind eye to Wuchen’s behavior.

The crowd grew denser. A lean man approached Yuan Tiangang quietly. “Senior brother, these were brought back by fishermen hired at great expense. They do appear truly dead. Please take a look!”

Caution was ingrained in Yuan Tiangang’s very bones. The moment the dead fish appeared, he had offered a hefty reward for someone to retrieve samples. He needed to understand exactly what was happening.

The men returned with a dozen fish of various species—carp, grass carp, silver carp, even fierce blackfish. Wuchen drew his treasured sword and struck one fish in two. To their surprise, the severed halves remained utterly motionless. It was clear the fish were indeed dead.

“Senior brother, it doesn’t seem fake. These fish inhabit different layers of the water; if this were a trick, how could they all be caught at once? The fishermen said they caught almost nothing this morning. It seems all the fish in the water were killed and floated into the whirlpool,” the man responsible for purchasing fish whispered.

Yuan Tiangang’s conviction grew stronger. The fish were definitely dead. Now, he was eager to see what powers this boy possessed. Only two or three hours remained before sunset. It was time to witness how the boy would restore life to these fish.

Time passed swiftly. After three hours, the crowd suddenly stirred. The number of fish floating on the surface was gradually diminishing. At first, the decrease was subtle, but within half an hour, the fish count dropped rapidly. Sharp-eyed onlookers even saw fish flicking the water’s surface before diving beneath, disappearing without a trace.

Yuan Tiangang was utterly stunned. Could there truly be a resurrection technique in this world? Those who proclaimed themselves nearest to immortality often harbored the greatest doubts about the existence of such beings. Now, doubt had transformed into reality. There was indeed a mysterious power beyond comprehension, simply unknown until now. His understanding of Yun Hao had risen to an entirely new level. Who was this boy, and where did he acquire such unfathomable arts?

The wager no longer mattered. What was crucial now was to uncover Yun Hao’s origins.

“Wuchen, you must go yourself. No matter the cost, investigate the background of this Yun boy thoroughly,” Yuan Tiangang commanded. He resolved to extract every scrap of knowledge from the child, to understand everything about his past.

“Yes, senior brother!” Wuchen cast aside his disdain. Someone capable of resurrection deserved respect. With a nod, he turned and left at once.

“Come, let us go meet this prodigy,” Yuan Tiangang said as he watched the last fish vanish into the whirlpool. He led several Taoists toward the Yun family estate.

“So, have you witnessed the miracle?” Yun Hao looked pleased, gazing at the cart piled high with copper coins Yuan Tiangang had brought. Old Liu, his eyes sparkling, was almost starstruck. The old man, whose beard had turned white carrying such heavy coins, showed no sign of fatigue and even trotted along faster than younger men.

Yun Hao invited Yuan Tiangang to sit and ordered tea served. After all, a messenger delivering money deserved proper treatment.

“I’ve seen it. It truly is a miracle. Eight thousand or even ten thousand people gathered—such numbers cannot be fabricated. Yet, I sense something amiss, though I cannot put my finger on it. You made no altar, recited no incantations. How exactly did you accomplish this?” Yuan Tiangang was no fool. He had pondered the events all the way here. Despite his suspicions, he could not grasp Yun Hao’s method. Perhaps what Yun Hao did was beyond his comprehension.

“Actually, it’s not a miracle at all. Merely an illusion. It relies on this—take a look!”