Patting the young man’s head as if stroking a pet with satisfaction, Shen Zaixin chuckled softly, his voice more intoxicating than peach blossom wine: “This lord will dote on you.”
The roaring gale in the midnight hours was blocked outside an invisible barrier. Although there was no trace of anyone on the rooftop, one or two suppressed, passionate gasps spilled out from who knows where.
Ever since that night, a legend suddenly popped up in Canglan City: every full moon night, a spirit-devouring demon would emerge, abducting late-night wanderers into a cave of hedonism. Not only were these young men stripped of their vital essence and drained of their yang energy, but they even lost their hearts.
Xie Linfeng heard about this rumor the next day while waiting for the match to begin.
At that time, the young man was in a corner wiping the dark-red blade of the Zhaoyan sword with a lingering, affectionate smile on his brows. Only, his slender neck was covered in overlapping red and purple marks, looking rather unsightly—less like he had spent a night of springtime romance and more like he had brawled with some sharp-tongued shrew of a young woman all night long.
Not far away, a stray conversation drifted over: “Hey, have you heard? They say a spirit-devouring demon appeared near South Street last night!”
“Really?”
“I reckon it’s true. Early this morning, a lot of dead birds stained with evil qi were found outside the estate of wealthy man Zhang on South Street. People from the Canglan Sect say it was caused by running into that demon’s barrier!”
Xie Linfeng’s sword-wiping hand paused. South Street—wasn’t that where he and that person had stayed last night?
“The strange thing is, nobody in the city died. Who knows what kind of secret technique that demon cultivates? Could it really be a romantic paradise?”
The young man inexplicably recalled that when Shen Zaixin had treated him as a furnace-vessel for cultivation, his trip to the Huaxu Secret Realm five years ago to seek the Dream-Crossing Lotus was also for a breakthrough. Although he gave it to him later for some unknown reason—making him think he had found another method—why was that person’s cultivation still at the peak of the Mahayana stage five years later, completely unchanged?
Forcibly suppressing one’s cultivation without breaking through not only easily breeds inner demons but also damages the meridians and foundation. Although he didn’t understand how demonic cultivators cultivated, the underlying principles were always the same.
A flash of worry crossed Xie Linfeng’s eyes. Once the Qingyun Tournament was over, he would have to go ask that person about it.
The Qingyun Tournament was held at the Xuanxian Pagoda in the very center of Canglan City. Every single level served as a barrier checkpoint, and the match conditions were projected onto the seating areas outside the tower via recording stones. The first person to ascend to the top floor would be the champion.
It sounded simple, but thousands of cultivators were divided into countless separate barrier spaces. No one knew whether the greatest danger ahead would turn out to be an enemy or a companion.
Even in the righteous world of cultivation, the human heart remained equally unpredictable.
At the towering peak of the pagoda, Shen Zaixin sat with his legs dangling in midair. The bone-chillingly cold wind fluttered his robes, making his entire body resemble a butterfly leisurely resting there, wings quivering as if ready to fly.
High above the clouds, relying on his cultivation, he could still clearly view the scenes displayed on the recording stones below. Xie Linfeng, a rogue cultivator without any sect affiliations, had actually left the proud children of heaven from various prestigious sects far behind, instantly capturing the attention of everyone in front of the Xuanxian Pagoda.
Among them, the expression of the Xie family head was particularly colorful.
Seeing this, Shen Zaixin let out a soft scoff, and then a mouthful of blood suddenly welled up from his throat, staining his fair chin and appearing exceptionally glaring.
152: [Host! You are hurting yourself!]
Anxiety was difficult to mask in 152’s mechanical voice. Over the past five years, Shen Zaixin had long since reached the threshold for a breakthrough, yet as if completely unaware, he continued to cultivate and accumulate spiritual energy as usual, refusing to break through even though his meridians had long been damaged beyond repair.
Although it didn’t know why the host was doing this, it inexplicably felt anxious and distressed.
[The system store has healing miraculous medicine. Just one pill can restore everything to perfection.]
“There’s no need.” Shen Zaixin casually raised a hand to wipe away the blood stain on his chin, his eyes carrying an excited and expectant smile, “Look, that dog really didn’t disappoint.”
Zhaoyan had long been implanted with a trigger by him. As long as Xie Linfeng, having secured the championship, challenged Ning Wuchen, then the lofty Immortal Qingrong would inevitably expose the demonic qi within his body in full view of the public.
152 vaguely understood a fraction of the host’s plan: [How can you be so sure Ning Wuchen will accept his challenge?]
Shen Zaixin curved his lips, “Thankfully, there is Zhaoyan.”
Zhaoyan and Shuangchi were inherently a pair. With a rival in love stepping forward to provoke him using his beloved’s sword, given those hidden and unwilling thoughts lingering deep in Ning Wuchen’s heart, no matter how arrogant and cold he was, how could he possibly miss such an opportunity that preserved his immortal dignity while crushing a romantic rival?
152: [I see.]
A sudden uproar erupted from below. Just as he had anticipated, Ning Wuchen accepted.
Even though the protagonist was two realms lower than Ning Wuchen, crossing realms to fight was hardly worth mentioning for a child of destiny.
The very instant Xie Linfeng unleashed the Qingrong Sword Technique, the aura surrounding Ning Wuchen turned chaotic for a fraction of a second—something that should never happen to a Tribulation-stage powerhouse.
It was like an ominous beginning. Although he ultimately defeated Xie Linfeng, visible black demonic qi gradually began to seep from between his brows, and a tearing pain radiated from his dantian. The hand gripping the Shuangchi sword trembled uncontrollably, and he could barely hold onto the hilt.
The sudden accident left Xie Linfeng standing in a daze. A thought suddenly occurred to him, and he lowered his head to look at the Zhaoyan sword in his hand, tightening his grip unconsciously.
An ominous premonition lingered deep within his heart.
“It’s demonic qi! What is going on?!”
“Why is there demonic qi on Immortal Qingrong? Could he have fallen into darkness?”
“Talk nonsense and die!” Some Canglan Sect disciples gritted their teeth to suppress their panic, hurriedly defending him, “How much has the Immortal done for all living beings over the past few centuries? How dare you make rash assertions to offend the Immortal!”
“I’m not denying what the Immortal has done for the cultivation world all these years, but that is clearly demonic qi.”
“That’s right, he’s just speaking the truth. You Canglan Sect people are reacting so intensely—could it be that you have a guilty conscience?”
The noisy clamor around him gave Ning Wuchen a splitting headache. He could no longer see anyone else clearly; amid a sea of blood-red vision, only the ambiguous marks on Xie Linfeng’s neck remained clearly visible, accompanied by that unique, subtle lingering fragrance at the tip of his nose.
If not for intimate embraces and sharing the same pillow, how could Xie Linfeng possibly be tainted with Changning’s aura?
Why? How could this be! Clearly, he and Changning were the ones who had been closest to each other for hundreds of years!
The birth of an inner demon and its sweep across Ning Wuchen’s sea of consciousness took only a split second. A voice seemed to be whispering temptations in his ear: Ning Wuchen, oh Ning Wuchen, the person you deeply treasured in your heart and guarded with all your might has long been spending every day intimately entangled with someone else right where you couldn’t see. You are nothing more than a joke!
“All of you!” Canglan Sect disciples forced down their anger. Seeing that the Immortal on the high platform remained completely silent, they hurriedly stepped forward wanting to offer some concern, only to be suddenly blasted backward by a violent wave of demonic qi, immediately vomiting a mouthful of blood.
The crowd grew restless.
“Clan Head, this…” An elder of the Xie family wore a look of mixed surprise and suspicion, instantly connecting this to the death of Xie Heng five years ago.
“I know what you want to say.” The Xie family head’s eyes flickered. Setting aside the matter of Xie Heng’s death for a moment, this was a prime opportunity to suppress the Canglan Sect.
The Canglan Sect had stood alone at the peak for too long; it was time for a change.
Although Ning Wuchen showed signs of falling into demonic deviation and losing control, he was currently being backlashed by the demonic qi and was at his most vulnerable moment of weakened consciousness. The elders of the major sects and clans seized the opportunity to bind him with Demon-Subduing Chains.
Seeing that these people didn’t even bother to investigate before seizing the opportunity to trap someone while they were down, the Canglan Sect disciple who had just been blasted away by the demonic qi gritted his teeth, forced himself up from the ground with lingering pain, and glared with extreme rage at the seemingly unconscious Immortal on the high platform.
These people usually proclaimed aloud how much they respected the Immortal, yet at this moment they couldn’t wait to strip off their hypocritical skins and kick a man when he was down. It was simply too bullying!
“The Immortal could never fall into demonic deviation! When the Immortal wakes up, if he finds out you framed him…”
Before the young man could finish, his own sect leader coldly interrupted him: “Yugui, stand down.”
“Sect Leader, but they…”
The Canglan Sect leader was a woman with delicate and refined features. Though she looked young, she was actually an uncle-generation peer to Ning Wuchen and the chief senior disciple of the previous sect leader, Lu Wanru.
Clearly, the pillar of the Canglan Sect was the one bound on the high platform, yet she merely cast a complicated glance before withdrawing her gaze and stating indifferently, “Yugui, this is not a matter for you to interfere with.”
As the head of the righteous sects, the Canglan Sect occupied a high position and was prone to a heavy fall; it could never afford to be tainted with a scandal of collusion with the demon race simply because of a single Ning Wuchen.
Yugui was filled with resentment yet felt completely helpless. He couldn’t understand why the sect leader, who usually cared most about the juniors, could stand by and watch with such ruthless indifference.
“Everyone, listen to me.” The Xie family head slowly walked to the center of the high platform. When the crowd’s attention turned toward him, he pulled an icy-blue sword tassel from his sleeve with a grief-stricken expression, “Do all of you remember that my legitimate son, Xie Heng, died a tragic death in the Huaxu Secret Realm five years ago? This sword tassel was picked up right beside my child’s corpse. However, the Xie family has always been humble and of low influence; even with suspicions, we never dared to rashly provoke the majesty of the Immortal.”
At the top of the pagoda, 152 stared in disbelief at that sword tassel, instantly putting all the pieces together: [You calculated this all along?]
“Well, you could say that.” Shen Zaixin enjoyed the spectacle of human ugliness below, his gaze lingering for a moment on the white figure upon the high platform as a sigh-like murmur dissolved into the wind: “How truly pitiful.”
He knew that although Ning Wuchen had selfish motives, everything he had done for all living beings over the years could not be faked. Falling to such a state was truly absurd and laughable.
Shen Zaixin considered his methods crude, but using them to deal with a bunch of aristocratic clans and sects who constantly had justice hanging on their lips seemed to fit just right.
If anyone was to blame, it was that Ning Wuchen had blocked too many people’s paths, and too many people wanted to see him fall.
Besides, that sword tassel indeed retained the aura of Immortal Qingrong. While it couldn’t completely prove that he killed Xie Heng, under the premise that he had fallen into demonic deviation, it was more than enough to ensure he could never wash away the filth staining his name.
Ultimately, Ning Wuchen was temporarily locked away on the top floor of the Xuanxian Pagoda. The Canglan Sect leader personally sealed the Shuangchi sword away at the Sword-Inquiring Platform, acting as a paragon of righteousness by sacrificing a relative for the greater cause, which finally dispelled everyone’s suspicions regarding any collusion between the Canglan Sect and the demon race.
The news of the number one person in the cultivation world falling into demonic deviation rapidly became the hottest topic of gossip on the streets, and no one paid any more attention to who the champion of this Qingyun Tournament was.
Xie Linfeng walked down the street, and discussions regarding Ning Wuchen drifted into his ears from time to time. He ought to have been happy about his rival’s downfall, but the moment he thought this matter might be connected to that person, panic surged uncontrollably in his heart.
Ever since the Qingyun Tournament ended, he hadn’t seen Shen Zaixin even once.
Walking aimlessly as if his soul had left his body, he only snapped back to reality when he found himself once again standing outside the Xuanxian Pagoda. Glancing casually inside, he saw that the guards had been increased by several times over normal. Anyone unaware would think some extraordinary, terrifying arch-demon was locked up inside.
“Hey, Mother, why are there so many Daoist priests here all of a sudden?” A passing child curiously asked the woman beside him.
The mother hurriedly covered the child’s mouth, casting a look of disgust and dread toward the top of the tower as she whispered a warning: “A great demon is locked up in there, and the Daoists are here to protect everyone. Be a good child and come home with Mother—you must never mention this again!”
Xie Linfeng heard every single word. Sneering, he raised his foot to walk away when a sudden commotion erupted from within.
“The seal at the entrance of the Xuanxian Pagoda has been broken! Someone broke in!”
“Which sect’s elder is on duty today? Go get help quickly!”
The seal of the Xuanxian Pagoda was jointly cast by the leaders of the three major sects and the heads of the four major clans. For someone to break it open so brazenly meant their strength was undoubtedly extraordinary.
Xie Linfeng inexplicably thought of Shen Zaixin, yet immediately dismissed the notion as absurd. Given that person’s cold and heartless nature, how could he possibly plunge himself into an isolated predicament just to save someone?
Yet he still felt somewhat uneasy, his eyelid twitching exceptionally hard as if hinting at something.
Taking advantage of the chaotic crowd, the young man quietly tailed his way inside.
On the top floor of the Xuanxian Pagoda.
The crisp, soft footsteps echoed with absolute clarity through the empty dark prison. In the deepest corner, the Immortal bound by chains forged from millennium-old black iron raised his head as if sensing something, revealing a pair of hollow, unfocused eyes.
To prevent him from escaping after falling into demonic deviation, both his eyes and the meridians of his limbs had already been crippled.
Yet through his blurred vision, he faintly caught sight of the visitor’s elegant, peerless grace.
Who is it?