Chapter 59

The sound of rain rustled, and a voice faintly carried through the wind.

“Young Master, why haven’t you made your move yet?”

Shaoyou’s expression remained unchanged, his head shaking almost imperceptibly.

His gaze drifted over, and in the drizzling spring rain, the pear blossoms behind the tavern fell like snow.

A young girl lay slumped on the table, her face pale as she slept, a jug of wine beside her, only a single sip taken.

Sadly, the wine couldn’t warm her body.

Her form was nearly transparent, and if a mortal were to see her now, they would surely be terrified.

But Shaoyou sat calmly, quietly observing her.

So she too understood.

After emerging from the Weak Water, her body could no longer hold up.

In front of Feng Fuming, she dared not show weakness, forcing herself to appear composed.

Her body couldn’t endure any more travel, so she had to stay in the mortal realm for now.

She was so weak that she couldn’t even set up a protective barrier.

It was a wonder she had managed to walk with him under an umbrella to the tavern.

A voice, frantic and exasperated, echoed in his mind: “Young Master, now is the best opportunity. If you don’t act, are you really going to wait for her to take the spiritual vein back to Kongsang? Once Kongsang is saved, what about Kunlun? She’s as weak as a mortal infant now. You must have seen where she hid the spiritual vein. Just take it.”

“Wojiang, quiet,” Shaoyou said, his voice calm but firm.

Wojiang, unable to argue, withdrew his telepathic message, fuming.

Ever since the divination revealed that the fifth spiritual vein was about to emerge, he hadn’t rested.

Now, their Young Master was so close to the spiritual vein, and the girl was severely injured.

Shaoyou didn’t need to fight to the death to easily obtain the Xirang soil.

This was the simplest solution to the problem that had plagued them for thousands of years.

At most… it was a bit underhanded.

But the Young Master hesitated, and Wojiang, like the proverbial anxious eunuch, wished he could appear by their side and seize the Xirang soil himself, sprinkling it over the cracks in the northern immortal land.

Shaoyou picked up the jug of wine beside her, removed the lid, and took a sip.

She shouldn’t have chosen him.

In the face of the spiritual vein, he and Feng Fuming were no different.

They were not individuals first, but representatives of their respective fairylands.

Feng Fuming, who didn’t lack spiritual veins, still needed them, let alone Kunlun, which was in desperate need.

Shaoyou hadn’t faced such a choice in a long time.

The last time he had to make such a decision was when his father spoke of his marriage alliance, suggesting he marry into Kongsang to merge their spiritual veins.

He had sacrificed himself for the sake of Kunlun.

And this time, as the Young Master of Kunlun, he should have done as Wojiang said—take the spiritual vein from her.

In matters of interest, there were no eternal allies.

As for himself…

He looked at the girl.

Her face was pale, fragile, her lips slightly pursed, as if in pain or holding back tears.

One hand was loosely clenched, a gesture of insecurity.

Yet, she had shown this vulnerable side to him.

She was still too young to understand that among the three of them, choosing to follow anyone else would have been better than choosing him.

Feng Fuming didn’t lack spiritual veins.

She could have tried to negotiate with him.

And that demon who had jumped into the Weak Water, willing to strip his flesh and break his bones to save her, didn’t want the spiritual vein and would have protected her well.

Only he, Shaoyou, urgently and necessarily needed a spiritual vein.

Either he could take it from the treacherous and capricious Feng clan, marrying Feng Caiyi and submitting to the Feng family’s whims, or he could seize it from her.

He finished the jug of wine, but the rain outside showed no sign of stopping.

After a long silence, and under Wojiang’s increasingly frantic urging, he opened her other tightly clenched fist and easily took the Xirang soil.

A surge of immense spiritual energy rushed forth, its vastness palpable without needing to sense it deeply.

This was the Xirang soil she had exchanged for with her life.

The spiritual vein that could sustain countless immortal clans was now in his hand.

Wojiang was still frantically divining.

The old man had clearly gone mad with excitement, finally calculating that his Young Master’s fate was intertwined with the fifth spiritual vein.

Wojiang was immensely relieved.

His rigid, almost stubborn Young Master had finally been willing to bend his principles for the sake of Kunlun, committing this small… small act of wrongdoing.

At most, Kongsang and Kunlun would never interact again, but as long as Kunlun was preserved, and his Young Master safe, it was worth it.

But Wojiang’s joy hadn’t fully spread when, in the next moment, the divination shifted on its own.

The connection between the Young Master and the Xirang soil had been severed.

Shaoyou placed the Xirang soil into a jade box crafted from the Shennong’s Cauldron, sealing off all its aura to prevent it from attracting greed.

He lowered his gaze and placed the jade box into the girl’s small hand.

Her eyelashes fluttered uneasily.

She was too severely injured to wake, but her trembling lashes, like the fluttering wings of a butterfly, seemed to grasp the box in her haze before settling back into peace.

Shaoyou smiled faintly.

He pressed a finger to her forehead, transferring some of his spiritual energy and cultivation to her.

She fell into a deeper sleep, her immortal body becoming more solid.

In the drizzling rain, Shaoyou said, “Sleep, I’m here.”

Pear blossoms covered the ground as she drifted into a sweet dream, vaguely recalling the simplest century she had spent with Shaoyou in the mortal realm.

Wojiang was still at the Four Seas Banquet, covering for his Young Master.

The old man tugged at his white hair and beard, deciding to make one last effort.

He didn’t call him “Young Master” this time, instead addressing him as, “Disciple.”

Shaoyou’s tone also became more respectful: “Master.”

Wojiang’s face was stern: “You must think carefully. If you miss this chance with the Xirang soil, you only have one path left—marry Feng Caiyi and henceforth obey the Feng family in all things. The Feng clan has long had their eyes on your abilities and won’t let you go easily.”

Shaoyou replied, “I know.”

“Even so, you won’t take the Xirang soil from her?”

“No.”

Wojiang thought bitterly, had his Young Master never seen a woman before? How could he be so foolish! It infuriated him!

Shaoyou waited for the rain to stop.

He thought to himself that he could ignore matters of the heart, but he could not abandon the last glory of the immortal clans.

How many of the immortal clans still remembered what it meant to be an immortal?

Almost none, and that was why the spiritual veins were drying up, leading to the decline of the immortal clans.

Feng Fuming returned to the Four Seas Banquet with Feng Caiyi.

The banquet was nearly over.

The Heavenly Consort approached, her heart aching: “My son, how did you end up like this?”

Feng Fuming had also suffered many corrosive wounds from his descent into the Weak Water, but he had emerged calmly and in time, faring much better than Liu shuang and Yan Chaosheng.

Feng Fuming smiled gently: “It’s nothing. How did the banquet go in my absence?”

The Heavenly Consort glanced at Feng Caiyi, who lowered her head and obediently stepped aside, not daring to interrupt.

Satisfied, the Heavenly Consort spoke: “Ji Xianghan, a branch member of the Jimo clan, and a few other women from the Feng clan are quite suitable. You should take a look when you have time.”

Feng Fuming asked, “What about Lou Michu?”

The Heavenly Consort hesitated: “Her appearance is indeed good, but she’s just the daughter of a minor clan leader in Kongsang.”

Feng Fuming chuckled softly: “It doesn’t matter. This time, she did me a great favor.”

Her audacity was remarkable.

Growing up in Kongsang, she dared to drug the Young Miss of Kongsang and refine soul-attracting incense with her own spiritual marrow.

If not for her, he wouldn’t have known the spiritual vein was in the Weak Water.

If not for her, he wouldn’t have known that the nearly depleted spiritual vein was being overtaken by demonic energy.

The balance of heaven was shifting.

If the sins of their ancestors couldn’t be buried, then let them grow even deeper.

If the demon clan was rising, then let them be eradicated before they could flourish.

The Heavenly Consort disagreed: “But, Fuming, you don’t have to choose her as your Heavenly Consort.”

If the ancient bloodline wasn’t pure enough, it would be difficult to produce sufficiently powerful descendants.

“Who said I would choose her as my Heavenly Consort?” Feng Fuming said.

“Why not Chishui Liushuang?”

The Heavenly Consort looked at him in surprise.

Feng Fuming’s expression was calm, but his eyes held a glint of amusement.

He stroked his palm, casually asking, “Where is my useless father?”

Despite holding an inexhaustible spiritual vein, he had allowed the immortal realm to split into four, unable to unify, even letting the spiritual vein warn of the impending rise of the demon clan.

Truly… utterly useless.

When the Heavenly Emperor’s decree to hunt demons was issued, the first targets were the prominent demon mountains.

Lao He led his men, his face grim as they fled the demon mountain, inwardly cursing their misfortune.

He had thought that following the current mountain lord would lead to a better life, but in just a few days, the Heavenly Emperor had gone mad, issuing an order to exterminate all demons in the world.

Not only were heavenly soldiers mobilized, but the cores of any demon could now be exchanged for high-grade spirit stones.

The wealth of the Feng clan was known throughout the land.

Their inexhaustible spiritual vein meant they could produce an endless supply of spirit stones for cultivation.

In just a few days, the demon clan was in chaos, fleeing in all directions.

At a time when they should have scattered and fled for their lives, their mountain lord had ordered no one to escape, to remain on the demon mountain, and to take in demons from all over who had nowhere else to go.

Madness, sheer madness.

If they didn’t flee now, would they stay here to die?

Ridiculous.

Did they expect the mountain lord, who still relied on the cold pond to maintain his form, to defeat the heavenly soldiers and save their lives?

Lao He immediately decided to take his men and leave this most conspicuous demon mountain.

As he reached the border of the demon mountain, countless soul-binding bells began to ring wildly.

Lao He sneered: “What does it matter if they know? He can only hide in the cold pond, clinging to life.”

The moment his foot stepped beyond the demon mountain, amidst the chaotic ringing of bells, Lao He’s neck was tightly wrapped.

Terrified, he turned to see a blood-red whip held in the hand of a man in black robes.

The man looked up, a cold smile on his lips: “So disobedient.”

Lao He immediately fell to his knees, begging for mercy.

He was cunning, knowing he was no match for Yan Chaosheng and that the young man had a soft heart, often sparing those who begged, unwilling to kill indiscriminately.

Lao He thought this time would be like the others, kowtowing repeatedly, waiting for Yan Chaosheng to say, “I’ll let it go this time.”

But the next moment, Lao He’s eyes bulged, and his head fell to the ground.

The man raised his hand, and Lao He’s soul was crushed in his grasp.

His eyes were cold, sharp, like the winter wind in December, sending a chill through the soul.

This man was different… why… how could this be…

Any semblance of mercy had been stripped from him.

His fingers tightened, effortlessly tearing apart Lao He’s soul.

He chuckled softly: “With such meager skills, you dare defy me.”

The others kneeling on the ground trembled, kowtowing frantically: “Mountain Lord, spare us! Mountain Lord, spare us!”

Fuheng, standing behind Yan Chaosheng, watched coldly and silently.

Yan Chaosheng said calmly: “Kill them all.”

At the border of the demon mountain, blood soaked the soil.

Those who remained were mostly those who had been tortured by the previous mountain lord and saved by Yan Chaosheng, now obedient to his commands.

The butterfly demon Congxia knelt below, looking up at the man towering above.

She felt a strange fear.

In the past, she had dared to flaunt his favor, but now she felt a chill.

Yet, she couldn’t help but feel that the current mountain lord truly resembled a demon.

A reckless, cold-blooded, and cruel demon.

She was indeed afraid of the pressure he exuded, but on the other hand, her heart couldn’t help but race because of him.

The mountain wind howled as the first wave of heavenly soldiers arrived to purge the demons.

Yan Chaosheng ordered everyone on the demon mountain to watch.

The crowd was terrified, but no one dared to disobey.

Congxia trembled at the back of the crowd, thinking their doom had come.

But what greeted them was a colossal black snake, its massive form blotting out the sky.

The snake, half the size of the demon mountain, instantly scattered the terrified cries—not from the weak demons, but from the once-mighty heavenly soldiers.

They fled in panic, just as the demons had once done.

But in the end, under the snake’s body, they all turned into blood mist.

Yan Chaosheng didn’t even leave their souls intact.

Congxia touched the blood of the heavenly soldiers that had splashed onto her face.

The blood was like boiling stones thrown into water, dispelling fear and replacing it with an almost trembling excitement.

For tens of thousands of years, no demon had dared to slaughter the immortal clans like this.

But now, someone had done it, right before their eyes.

The blood of these heavenly soldiers didn’t smell any more fragrant or noble than their own.

That day, wherever the black snake passed, no heavenly soldier survived.

No demon ever thought of leaving the demon palace to hide in the mortal realm again.

A towering mountain now stood before them, shielding them from the coming storm.

Yan Chaosheng looked down at them from above.

All shattered deaths seemed immensely tragic, and the demon mountain was dyed red with blood.

Just like the ancient demons in the Demon Suppression Tower who had self-destructed for his sake.

Yan Chaosheng realized he had been wrong from the start.

Born a demon, why had he tried to become an immortal? He could never become one.

That day in the Weak Water, the seal had broken, and the inheritance of ten thousand years had awakened.

He remembered how the Xiangliu clan had poured their entire clan’s power into nurturing him from a spiritual embryo, transferring him into Meng Ji’s womb.

He remembered his father, before his death, crushing his core and sealing the memories of their clan’s extermination within him.

That was why he had been born without parents, unable to even manifest his true form.

All the ancient demons had hidden his existence, sending him away, and were imprisoned in the Demon Suppression Tower.

For tens of thousands of years, they endured torture, never speaking a word.

His clan had been slaughtered, more brutally than the heavenly soldiers today.

They had preferred to scatter their souls than to wait for Yan Chaosheng to awaken and become their king.

The Xiangliu royal clan had sealed tens of thousands of years of spiritual energy within him, and now it had awakened.

Yan Chaosheng’s eyes were filled with cruelty as he watched the demons, their bloodlines boiling with excitement.

He coldly declared: “When you stand equal to the immortal clans, even above them, which immortal can you not kill?”

After a pause, he added with a mocking tone: “And which immortal can you not obtain?”

A foolish heart had earned him nothing but disregard and mockery.

Losing his cultivation, his protective scales, being forced to strengthen his battered true form, jumping into the Weak Water—none of it had earned him a glance from the noble ancient immortal clans.

It had only earned her saying, “I just want to stay away from him.”

If she couldn’t see him when he bowed his head, then he would stand tall and force her to look up at him.