“Scram.”
A cold, heavy voice rippled outward, carrying a dense killing intent that swept over the scene, causing everyone present to bleed from their seven orifices and their meridians to fall into chaos.
The first to bear the brunt were Xielingzi and Nine Swords Zhenren. The two felt the oppressive force on their bodies growing heavier and heavier. Under this unbearable pressure, their internal organs deformed and shattered, until finally their physical bodies were crushed alive, leaving only their souls pinned in place, struggling and begging for mercy.
The cultivators outside Ailao Mountain were terrified by this sight, their eyes wide with horror. No longer caring about anything else, they scrambled and crawled to flee the boundaries of Ailao Mountain.
Seeing this, the souls of Xielingzi and Nine Swords Zhenren knew they were doomed. Setting aside their previous conflict over the treasure, they joined forces and summoned their life-saving artifacts, attempting to escape their restraints.
The colossal beast in the clouds looked down coldly at their ant-like struggles, then extended a massive claw and swiped through the air, effortlessly crushing their souls.
Only after clearing out the intruding pests did the silver-furred giant beast leisurely descend, treading on the wind.
Its mountain-like body gradually shrank as it landed, revealing its true form.
The Classic of Mountains and Seas records: Chenghuang resembles a fox, with horns on its back. Riding it grants a lifespan of two thousand years.
And the one before them now had flowing, luxurious silver-white fur that shimmered brilliantly in the sunlight. The twin horns on its back were the same golden hue as the divine markings on its forehead. As it walked slowly, its fur moved without wind, like flowing clouds swept by a breeze, exuding a formidable aura.
The giant beast pushed aside the branches and foliage, walking up to the unconscious Xu Lingguang. Its golden-red vertical pupils stared at him, and it nudged him a few times with its paw pads, as if pondering how to deal with this one.
As it contemplated, a round, fluffy yellow ball clumsily emerged from the thick fur, peeking down with a soft, sweet voice: “Why is he asleep?”
“Calling you foolish and you still won’t admit it.”
Another cub then emerged from the fur. Unlike the first, she was entirely white, with beautiful, vivid red divine markings on her face and back. The pair of small horns on her back were crystal clear, like crystal, and she looked spirited as she lifted her head.
She glanced at the chubby one beside her, a look of disdain on her furry face: “He was clearly scared unconscious!”
The pale yellow fluffball refused to accept this, eagerly trying to jump down: “Let’s wake him up and ask, then we’ll know.”
Just as it was about to leap with its short hind legs, the giant beast grabbed it by the scruff of its neck.
Tossing the restless younger brother back onto its back, Lan Jian glanced down at the unconscious human youth. After confirming that he had lost all his cultivation and posed no threat to the cubs, it swept its tail and flung him beyond the boundaries of Ailao Mountain.
The cub, unable to wake the human and ask, was very displeased. It rolled around in the soft, thick fur, chattering and bickering with Yun Feng.
Annoyed by the noise of the two cubs, Lan Jian twitched its ears and carried them deeper into the mountain forest.
Only after the aura of the Chenghuang had completely dissipated did Song Nanchu and the other two dare to move.
The gentle smile that usually graced Song Nanchu’s face was gone without a trace: “So that is the Chenghuang.”
“The legends of Ailao Mountain are actually true,” Yu Jun murmured as well.
“The Xielingzi of Senluo Abyss and the Nine Swords Zhenren of Hidden Edge Sect are both late-stage Divine Treasure Realm experts, yet they were utterly powerless before Chenghuang.” Zhou Fuying stroked his sword sheath, gazing toward the distant Ailao Mountain where dense foliage blotted out the sky. “What realm do you think… that Chenghuang has reached now?”
Song Nanchu said, “Chenghuang is an ancient divine race. Back then, humanity was no match for the ancient divine races. A fully grown Chenghuang might be even more formidable than a Human Emperor of the Profound Mystery Realm.”
Cultivators must pass through seven realms: Qi Attraction, Mortal Shedding, Divine Treasure, Spirit Union, Delusion Shattering, Void Penetration, and Profound Mystery. Among these, reaching the Profound Mystery Realm requires receiving heavenly appointment at the Golden Qilin Terrace in Fufeng City to become the Human Emperor.
Since the fall of the Shanhai Realm, only one Human Emperor has ever emerged across the entire Shangyang Continent.
A flame ignited in Zhou Fuying’s eyes: “It’s definitely stronger than the Human Emperor. I once paid distant respects to the Human Emperor in Fufeng City. That Chenghuang’s aura… was far more powerful and terrifying than the Human Emperor’s.”
The moment the three of them sensed that aura, they dared not advance another step, holding their breath and hiding until the presence completely dissipated before they dared move.
Yu Jun had no interest in Chenghuang. They had originally come today to watch Xu Lingguang’s misfortune, never expecting to encounter Chenghuang’s emergence and nearly get themselves killed in the process. Thus, she felt somewhat dispirited: “Xu Lingguang entered the mountains—he’s probably already met a bad end. Are you returning or not?”
Song Nanchu flicked his serpent tail, sliding down from the tree, preparing to return with Yu Jun.
The sun was too fierce today, making him drowsy.
Zhou Fuying shook his head, his face full of excitement: “I’ll return later.”
Xu Lingguang was awakened by the sun.
He sat up dizzily, feeling a headache.
Reaching up to touch his forehead, he discovered a bump had formed at some point—he suspected he’d hit it while tumbling down the slope.
As his memories returned, he recalled those who had been pursuing him and anxiously looked around. Only after confirming no one else was around did he relax slightly, grimacing as he climbed to his feet.
However, after clearly seeing his surroundings, he grew puzzled again—this didn’t seem to be the slope he had rolled down.
But the sun was too glaring. After his great escape, Xu Lingguang’s limbs were exhausted and his entire body ached, leaving him with little energy to analyze or think deeply.
His mind was completely occupied with thirst—so thirsty, so thirsty, so thirsty—he needed to find water first.
He vaguely remembered seeing a small stream not far away while rolling down the slope.
Xu Lingguang brushed off the fallen leaves and dust from his clothes, picked up a tree branch to use as a walking stick, and slowly trudged along his memory to find that stream. Fortunately, his luck wasn’t too bad this time—he hadn’t gone far before hearing the gurgling sound of flowing water.
Xu Lingguang threw aside the branch, strode over, and lay by the streamside gulping down water.
As his intense thirst eased, his muddled mind cleared. Only then did Xu Lingguang have the presence of mind to ponder what had actually happened earlier.
Those people had been chasing him all the way—why had they suddenly stopped? Where had they gone?
Xu Lingguang couldn’t figure out the answer. After resting awhile in the shade, he remembered he still hadn’t secured dinner and rallied his spirits again to search for his evening meal.
A person is iron, food is steel—one missed meal leaves hunger felt keenly.
Having transmigrated here was misfortune enough—he couldn’t afford to starve himself on top of that.
Xu Lingguang searched around and finally found his lost bag and shovel in a mountain hollow. Unfortunately, the milkvetch fruits in the bag were all smashed and had to be discarded. Fortunately, this mountain slope was more abundant than others—not only were wild fruits growing everywhere, but he also spotted traces of wild rabbits.
Tonight, he would have meat to eat.
Carrying the empty bag, Xu Lingguang carefully observed the tracks and droppings left by the rabbits, rubbing his hands together eagerly as he began setting traps.
He had been quite skilled at catching wild rabbits as a child.
After setting the traps and selecting the burrows, Xu Lingguang patiently lay hidden in the grass for an entire afternoon and successfully caught two plump wild rabbits.
He stuffed the rabbits into his bag, wrapped the wild vegetables and fruits in leaves, and tied them securely with vines. Then, he happily hoisted his prey over his shoulder and headed back, fully laden.
When he had set out, it was still early, but by the time he returned, the sky was already ablaze with sunset clouds.
The day’s experiences had been more thrilling than anything he had encountered in his past twenty-four years.
Xu Lingguang sighed wistfully, but the thought of having meat for dinner lifted his spirits again.
As he emerged from the dense forest, he saw his young disciple, Zhou Fuying, practicing swordplay under a tree. The pitch-black sword looked large and heavy, but in Zhou Fuying’s hands, it seemed weightless. Every swing of the blade stirred sharp currents of air.
Observing the scattered tree trunks and branches around him, Xu Lingguang silently retreated a few steps with his bag before waving a greeting. “Good disciple, look what your master has caught. We’ll have meat tonight.”
Zhou Fuying had been recalling the oppressive aura created by the Chenghuang. Some feared that overwhelming presence, but others, like him, sought to use it to temper themselves.
Startled by Xu Lingguang’s sudden voice, Zhou Fuying’s mind jolted, nearly causing him to drop his sword.
He abruptly sheathed his blade, his sharp, dark eyes fixed intently on Xu Lingguang.
This troublemaker—why wasn’t he dead?!