Chen Lingxi narrowed his eyes and continued forward.
At some point, the sky had grown overcast, and it began to rain again.
Spring rain in the third month was supposed to be gentle—a fine mist that barely dampened the apricot blossoms. Today's downpour, however, was as biting as midwinter snowmelt.
The pedestrians on the street gradually thinned out.
Chen Lingxi mingled with a sparse stream of people leaving the city, heading steadily toward the north gate.
He did not have to walk far to reach his destination.
It was a vast, empty execution ground.
It sat in a depression ringed by bare dirt slopes on three sides, leaving only a single official road leading north.
Nothing grew here. Not even a single stalk of common foxtail grass could be found in the barren dirt.
Chen Lingxi stood at the edge of the execution ground, entirely silent.The rain fell thicker, pattering against his shoulders and dripping down his temples. He did not wipe it away.
He remembered this place better than anywhere else.
On that day, more than two years ago, this execution ground had been ringed by a massive crowd of onlookers.
His father, Chen Yanzhi, had knelt right here in the center of the yard, where an executioner's single stroke had severed his head.
His mother had followed immediately after. Before she could even cry out, she collapsed onto the very same yellow mud.
It had been a gloomy, rainy day just like this one.
The rainwater had washed the blood into a long red channel that flowed all the way to his feet.
Afterward, he had been condemned as an official bondservant, passing through various hands before ending up at the Baosu Marquis Residence.
This place seemed colder than anywhere else.
He stood quietly for a moment. The rain had already soaked him to the bone.
'Imperial Consort Chun...'
'Mirror-Listening Technique...'
He recalled the words in his mind.
Just then, a soft chuckle sounded behind him.
It was not loud, blending into the rustle of the rain, yet it drifted clearly into Chen Lingxi's ears.
Chen Lingxi spun around.
Not far away, a figure stood perched on the branch of a crooked old locust tree.
It was a young man who looked no older than eighteen or nineteen. With striking red lips and white teeth, his handsome features seemed too perfect for the mortal realm.
He wore a moon-white robe that remained entirely untouched by the downpour. The rain deflected on its own three feet away from him, as though he were enveloped in an invisible dome.
A longsword hung at his waist. Its scabbard was pure silver, and the hilt was inlaid with an emerald gemstone that gleamed with a faint, cold light under the gloomy sky.
With one hand rested behind his back and the other draped over his sword hilt, the young man gazed down at Chen Lingxi.
His eyes were extraordinarily bright, shining like twin winter stars.
Yet there was no warmth in that starlight—only a lofty indifference, as though he were examining an ant.
It was as if the person standing below him wasn't a living, breathing human being, but merely an amusing plaything.
'Who is this?'
Chen Lingxi only met his gaze for a split second, yet the blood and qi in his entire body instantly froze.
The man finally spoke.
"Seeing that you could withstand the Cauldron Calamity of the Time Candle, I followed you for quite a while."
The young man spoke, his voice clear as striking jade chimes, his tone lazy and casual, yet every word hammered heavily against Chen Lingxi's chest.
"But looking at you now, there doesn't seem to be anything special about you."
Chen Lingxi's pupils contracted slightly.
'The Time Candle. The Cauldron Calamity.'
'He was spying on me just now.'
Seeing that Chen Lingxi did not seem as shocked as he had imagined, the young man tilted his head. "So, what is your background?"
Before his voice could fade, the situation shifted again.
The veil of rain in the direction of the bridge was suddenly stirred, as if by a massive invisible hand. Thick fog surged in like a tide from all directions. The ashen-gray mist was so dense it practically solidified.
Footsteps rang out from within the heavy mist.
They were unhurried, every footfall landing on the exact same beat. They were steady as drumbeats—as if the person were not treading on muddy ground, but descending an invisible staircase.
A figure slowly walked out of the thick fog.
The man was tall and slender, his hands clasped behind his back.
He wore a dark embroidered robe. His skin was exceedingly pale, and his eyes were so profoundly dark they resembled two bottomless ancient wells.
—Lin Suri.
No mist clung to him, but whenever the rain fell within three feet of his head, it quietly evaporated into steam, dissipating as if an invisible barrier shielded him.
Lin Suri's gaze fell on Chen Lingxi. Just a single glance.
It was a remarkably plain look, yet it seemed to pierce right through flesh and bone, seeing straight into his deepest network of spiritual qi.
Chen Lingxi felt the dormant spiritual qi in his dantian give a slight tremor before settling back into stillness. It felt as though something had been effortlessly brushed aside by that single gaze.
Lin Suri furrowed his brows slightly, a faint trace of bewilderment flashing through his eyes.
"The Six Qi True Art," he said, his voice entirely deadpan. "You haven't practiced any martial techniques, only the breathing methods for circulating qi."
He paused. Those deep, well-like eyes stared straight into Chen Lingxi's face, a face weathered as if in its twilight years.
Even though this face was layered with wrinkles like old tree bark, even though these eyes were murky and clouded with cataracts, Lin Suri still recognized him at a single glance.
"An official bondservant from the north courtyard's inverted quarters?"
He was supposed to be a lowly government slave, destined to waste away his strength in hard labor.
Yet, the spiritual qi flowing through this man's body was absolutely identical to the Six Qi True Art that Lin Suri himself practiced.
"Are you..." Lin Suri spoke slowly, "...a disciple of Daoxia Academy?"
Before his voice faded, the young man in the locust tree let out a chuckle.
The laugh was faint, yet it rang exceptionally clear across the quiet execution ground.
The young man tilted his head slightly, his gaze sweeping back and forth between Chen Lingxi and Lin Suri.
"Lin Suri."
He spoke, his voice as crisp as ever. "You planned to use this cauldron fragment to lure me here, and I came specifically to take the bait. The trip here was quite amusing, I admit."
His gaze shifted back to Chen Lingxi, the smile on his lips deepening.
"I thought it would just be an ordinary trap to draw me out. I never expected there to be such an amusing piece of entertainment."
"Since it's entertainment..."
He paused, his eyes filled with a perfectly natural, undisguised contempt.
"...it's enough to just watch it play out. Why bother with his background?"
Saying that, the young man flashed a broad grin.
It was a bright and clean smile, like a cheerful young lord on a spring outing, but those eyes remained devoid of any extraneous emotion.
No killing intent. No anger. Not even disdain.
There was only a pure, almost innocent superiority.
Like a toddler crouching by a tree, watching ants move their nest.
Once he was done watching, he simply crushed them with a light press of his finger.
For no reason at all.
He flicked a finger.
Chen Lingxi's pupils contracted violently.
He saw it clearly.
The young man's flicking motion was incredibly slow, elegant even, as if he were casually brushing a fallen blossom from his shoulder.
But the instant his finger extended!
A muffled crack of thunder exploded in the empty air!
This thunder did not fall from the heavens. It was a roar erupting directly from the air itself, practically point-blank!
A strand of pale gold lightning, as thin as a single hair, shot from the young man's fingertip!
Lin Suri furrowed his brow at this moment. "Lu Baizhong!"
He called out the young man's name, yet made no move to stop him.
The arc of lightning tore through the rain. Every raindrop it touched was instantly vaporized into nothingness. The very air twisted and shattered along its path, emitting a shrill screech like tearing silk.
Chen Lingxi could not move a muscle.
'Such power...'
The raw power contained within that sliver of lightning was simply too overwhelming. Chen Lingxi truly felt like an ant.
At this moment, he was an ant standing before a flash flood. Before the thought of escape could even surface, he was swept up, crushed, and devoured!
The next moment.
The pale gold lightning struck the center of his brow without the slightest resistance.
"Boom—"
Chen Lingxi felt a cold chill between his eyebrows. A split second later, a massive, unstoppable force detonated inside his skull.
He practically heard his own bones shattering. He heard his blood boil and evaporate. He heard every inch of his flesh, every wisp of his spiritual qi, being shredded into dust at this very moment!
Even in this final instant, Chen Lingxi could still see the young man's eyes.
Completely clean. No hatred. No anger. Not even killing intent.
He had simply finished his observation, and casually crushed him to death.
He wanted to kill, and so Chen Lingxi died.
"Crack—"
High in the firmament of the Divine Chamber, the two bright mirrors suddenly erupted with blinding light.
One blazing gold, the other silvery-white. Two pillars of light cascaded down simultaneously, illuminating Chen Lingxi's shattered body.
As the light washed over him, the entire world began to warp, fracture, and disintegrate.
The waters of the puddles rolled backward, the locust tree toppled over, and the stone bridge shattered into rubble, scattering into the sky!
Chen Lingxi's eyes snapped open.
He was lying on the hard wooden bed in the servant quarters, gasping for air. Cold sweat had completely soaked his clothes, and his head felt as though it were splitting open.
He pressed a hand to his temples, his fingertips trembling faintly. The spiritual qi in his dantian began to circulate, streaming up to the crown of his head in fine threads, slowly suppressing the agonizing pain.
It took the time to drink half a cup of tea before he could finally prop himself up against the edge of the bed, his chest still heaving violently.
Outside the window, the moon had not completely set yet.
Chen Lingxi pushed open the door and walked into the courtyard.
The peony in the courtyard was in full bloom.
Chen Lingxi thought for a moment before stepping out of the courtyard entirely.
Outside the courtyard walls, several servants of the marquis's estate walked past, chatting and laughing together. Seeing Chen Lingxi standing there, one of them approached with a smile. "Brother Chen, do you have any laundry that needs washing?"
Chen Lingxi slowly shook his head without answering.
He lifted his head. Hanging in the sky was a real, physical waning moon, half-hidden behind the western wall.
The two bright mirrors were gone.
He took a deep breath, letting the icy night wind pour into his lungs.
He had returned to four days prior.
More accurately, he had left the Divine Chamber created by his Perceiving Clear Divine Ability.
It all felt like a dream.
'No, it wasn't a dream.'
Chen Lingxi took another deep breath.
He knew this because the knowledge within his mind remained impeccably clear. The pathways for circulating qi in the Concealed Edge Method, the secrets to hiding one's breath, the bottlenecks of the qi apertures... The spiritual qi guidance for the Cyan Edge Method, the condensation of sword energy, the techniques for releasing its sharp edge outward... Every detail of these cultivation methods was vividly etched into his memory, without a single flaw.
'The memories forged inside the Divine Chamber return to the real world with me!'