The kiss carried a hint of coldness, a touch of wickedness, and a thread of intimacy.  

It was so gentle that Ji Yunlai felt like he was falling into a cloud. Not only did he not want to refuse, but he desperately responded, thirsting for more.  

The mighty Xing Dao Master, who even in the face of Human Immortals never feared or faltered, was now dizzy and light-headed from a kiss. He felt as if someone had shaken him back and forth a thousand times, leaving him utterly disoriented.  

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

He was completely unable to control himself!  

He didn’t even stop the hand that reached inside his robes.  

What’s happening to me? I’m not someone so easily swayed. Why am I acting like an old house catching fire?  

Even Ji Yunlai’s ears turned crimson with embarrassment. His robes were half undone before he managed to feebly push Xiao Qing away.  

The gesture was weak, almost like reluctant consent.  

Yes, this was Xiao Qing. Although he wasn’t sure why Xiao Qing was acting this way, even with the demonic aura all over him, Ji Yunlai could tell this wasn’t some malevolent entity. It was the pure Xiao Qing. However, he seemed to be in a state of confusion, unable to think clearly.  

Since there was no one else around, Ji Yunlai, despite his internal conflict, wasn’t open-minded enough to let things escalate indiscriminately. After much effort, he finally managed to push the reluctant Xiao Qing off.  

But Xiao Qing seemed controlled by that naïve yet determined shadow of his, repeating the same attempts to press him down.  

Ji Yunlai considered it seriously. If it were Xiao Qing trying to… push him down, he supposed he wouldn’t mind.  

However, given Xiao Qing’s current state of mind, it was better to leave some boundaries in place.  

Raising his hand, Ji Yunlai channeled his true essence, intending to suppress the demonic aura within Xiao Qing and restore his clarity.  

Yet no matter how much true essence he poured in, the demonic aura showed no sign of diminishing.  

After nearly an hour, the situation remained unchanged.  

Holding Xiao Qing, who kept nuzzling against his face and touching him, Ji Yunlai prepared to bring him back to Zhuiyun Peak. The Nine Abysses were too chaotic, and the environment could harm someone of Xiao Qing’s low cultivation level.  

But just as they exited halfway from the Nine Abysses and saw the dim blue sky beyond the black mist, the heavens suddenly darkened. Thunderclouds gathered, lightning danced like golden serpents, and massive bolts of tribulation lightning, dozens of feet thick, came crashing down. Ji Yunlai raised his hand to block, yet even he felt his fingers go numb.  

The tribulation thunder did not relent. In the next moment, tens of thicker lightning bolts followed, their silvery light tinged with a faint purple hue.  

Ji Yunlai recalled Kun-Lai’s records, which described the purple tribulation lightning as a punishment from the heavens—reserved only for abominations completely rejected by natural law.  

Xiao Qing, held in Ji Yunlai’s arms, glanced up at the sky with a flash of fury in his eyes. With a wave of his hand, the endless tribulation clouds split apart, revealing sunlight beyond.  

Yet almost immediately, the clouds reformed, growing threefold in density. At their center, a shadow began to take shape, resembling an eye on the verge of opening. The lightning became even fiercer, and while Ji Yunlai blocked dozens of strikes, he suddenly sensed his fortune being drastically diminished by a tenth.  

Fortune was the essence of accumulated karmic merit, essential for protecting disciples and sects. Losing it could lead to public condemnation, universal enmity, and harm to his close friends and allies. Ji Yunlai couldn’t help but feel alarmed. His fortune, earned from founding Kun-Lai and shaping the Western Continent, was among the top four in the world. Losing a tenth in an instant was no small matter.  

Without hesitation, he retreated back into the endless darkness of the Nine Abysses.  

Just what position did Xiao Qing hold in his past life? To provoke such hostility from the heavens, it seemed as if the very laws of nature sought mutual destruction.  

As Ji Yunlai pondered this, Xiao Qing once again pushed him down…  

Oh heavens, how could someone like me, a Human Immortal, fail to resist Xiao Qing’s advances? Ji Yunlai felt utterly ashamed. Xiao Qing didn’t even understand what he was doing! How could he not only fail to correct him but also mislead him further?  

No, this won’t do. Ji Yunlai was momentarily at a loss and grew worried that Xiao Qing’s prolonged state might cause lasting harm.  

After some thought, he retrieved a jade pendant, cool and translucent like ice. It bore calming and soul-stabilizing properties, engraved with an “SOS” mark. It was the very one he had received upon awakening, with a memory backup inside that mockingly stated, “How deep does blood even run?”  

Though he did leave a final word: “If you face an emergency, seek me again.” And wasn’t this an emergency now?  

Ji Yunlai infused his true essence into the jade pendant, waiting for the world to transform into an endless sea and sky.  

But this time, no dramatic effects occurred. Instead, another version of himself appeared, quiet and serene, materializing in the void.  

The Xiao Qing in his arms immediately lunged toward this new figure.  

“You’re my Xiao Qing!” Ji Yunlai grabbed him and pinched his cheek. No matter what Xiao Qing’s past life was, in this life, Xiao Qing was his. There was no room for negotiation. Even if the person before him was a manifestation of his own obsession, it didn’t matter!  

The Xing Dao Master, as calm and distant as a moon high in the heavens, merely extended a hand and traced a line on Xiao Qing’s forehead.  

In an instant, a phantom appeared beside them, wrapping itself around the Xing Dao Master with unrestrained intimacy. The Xing Dao Master remained expressionless, allowing it to do as it pleased. 

Ji Yunlai, holding Xiao Qing, froze for a moment. Suddenly, Xiao Qing froze, and then with an aggrieved expression collapsed into his arms and silently cried, “Master…”

“It’s all right,” Ji Yunlai gently patted his apprentice’s loose long hair.

How could it be all right? Feng Qingxiu felt even worse. When he was pulled away by Senior Brother Yang, he was extremely worried, full of self-blame and guilt. He felt that it was his fault for putting his master in danger. Overcome with these emotions, he unconsciously managed to control his shadow. His thoughts aligned with those of the shadow, and instinctively, countless shadows returned to the Endless Void. But upon seeing that his master was unharmed, he and his shadow began to diverge. Amid the confusion, he had shown such disrespect toward his master!

He wanted to atone with his life!

“Don’t,” Ji Yunlai quickly comforted his disheveled and guilt-ridden apprentice. “It has nothing to do with you. It’s the shadow’s fault!”

Although that shadow was also influenced by you, your master, I truly… don’t mind.

“But I…” Thinking of the lovely feeling from when he was kissing his master, Feng Qingxiu covered his mouth, almost wanting to die.

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault. If you hurt yourself because of this, it would be my fault as your master,” Ji Yunlai reassured him. He then looked toward the place where the Xing Dao Master, despite the shadow being all over him, remained still and steady, quietly watching him. For a moment, he felt somewhat awkward.

“Repair the demonic seal on his body, the method is here.” The Xing Dao Master raised his hand, and a wisp of spiritual light flew into Ji Yunlai’s mind. It contained an intricate ward complex enough to create ten flying peaks. After releasing this wisp of light, the Xing Dao Master became even more faint.

“You should return to the jade talisman now,” Ji Yunlai said, though he had many questions and things he wanted to ask, he no longer felt like doing so.

He reached out and returned the Xing Dao Master’s obsession along with the demonic shadow to the jade talisman.

From his current perspective, how could Ji Yunlai not see that the Xing Dao Master was nearing his limits? If he stayed any longer, this obsession would vanish completely.

As for seeing that great celestial demon’s obsession, it could have waited until he entered the illusionary world. Why was there such a rush? The past him was really not honest and straightforward.

And now, there was something more serious.

Thinking of the complex and incomprehensible seal, Ji Yunlai felt his head spin. “Xiao Qing.”

Xiao Qing looked up at him with an innocent and somewhat shy expression. Just being looked at made Ji Yunlai remember the feeling he had when Xiao Qing was kissing him, and his ears turned slightly red. “Are you still feeling unwell?”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Feng Qingxiu lowered his head and said, “No, Master. Are you here in your true form? What about Kun-Lai…?”

What should be done about the Kun-Lai network?

“Of course. Kun-Lai isn’t in any real trouble, you needn’t worry,” Ji Yunlai nodded. He then took a deep breath, trying to be solemn. “Xiao Qing, take off your clothes.”

“Okay… huh?”

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

The High Priest let out a soft sigh and raised his hand, pointing a single finger forward.  

In the blink of an eye, he exchanged several blows with Ji Yunlai. At their level, the battle was one of intent and the true understanding of the Dao. “Heaven collapsing and earth overturning” was no mere phrase—it was a reality.  

In an instant, nearly all living creatures in the Witchlands fled far away. Senior Brother Yang decisively pulled Feng Qingxiu to safety. The High Priest had placed no restrictions on him—or perhaps, around the High Priest, restrictions or the lack thereof made no difference.  

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Feng Qingxiu watched the distant battlefield nervously, his urge to rush forward and assist nearly overwhelming.  

“Should we leave?” Yang Fuyin grabbed Feng Qingxiu’s arm. “We’re only a burden to Master if we stay here.”  

“But Master is just a spirit fragment!” Feng Qingxiu was utterly anxious. More than anyone, he knew that his master’s main body remained in Kun-Lai. Facing an apex-level Human Immortal here was merely a spirit fragment, attached to a talisman paper no larger than his palm. For cultivators, unlike mortals, a captured spirit fragment could be used in countless ways to harm the main body.  

“Do you have a plan?” Yang Fuyin asked.  

Feng Qingxiu gritted his teeth, defeated. “No.”  

“Then stop wasting time.” Yang Fuyin dragged him along. In his anxiety, he failed to notice the faint black mist flickering in his junior brother’s eyes.  

Meanwhile, the battle ended swiftly.  

Ji Yunlai’s sword energy had been extraordinarily sharp at first, while every move of the High Priest was like a gentle stream of water, soft and rippling, entirely devoid of mundane touch. But as the exchanges continued, that sharpness and dominance gradually faded, replaced by a timeless, tranquil profundity, as if spanning from ancient times to the present, unaffected by life or death.  

Though the water remained gentle and flowing, its countless variations were all encompassed within the passage of time.  

In an instant, Ji Yunlai broke through the endless water ripples, piercing the High Priest’s chest with a sword strike.  

Celestial demon transformations, the myriad Dao of time—the secrets of the High Priest’s Dao intent had already been automatically deciphered in mere moments of combat. Ji Yunlai’s comprehension was terrifyingly high. Yet…  

The High Priest sighed lightly. “Why didn’t you show this talent back when you were in the Yun State?”  

Had he known back then, the plans of that year might not have unfolded the way they did.  

Sword energy spread, sprouting countless decayed dark flowers at the wound. Ji Yunlai’s expression turned mocking upon hearing these words. “Luo Qingxiao, what truly matters to you?”  

The High Priest’s expression softened with nostalgia. “At first, it was my master’s command. Then, it was Great Xuan. Later, it was Yin Yanxiu. And after that… perhaps freedom. Cultivating for a thousand years, you see mortals as ants, fleeting in their existence. Those you have known vanish one by one. When you see summer flowers bloom brilliantly, you enjoy them. But when needed, you pluck them without hesitation or regret.”  

His meaning was clear, as though he were saying, you were just a flower I plucked.

After a moment’s thought, he added slowly, “One day, you too will become like me. As those around you disappear one by one, it’s like a butterfly breaking free from its cocoon—the world gained is incomparable to that of a caterpillar.”  

“Ridiculous! A butterfly breaking free—is it not still an insect?” Ji Yunlai sneered coldly. “Stop deluding yourself. If what you say is true, why did you stoop to such disgraceful acts?”  

“Because the butterfly is not just me,” the High Priest replied, watching as the dark decay crept up his neck. He smiled faintly. “What a pity. If it was your main body here, I would not be able to defeat you.”  

As he spoke, an ethereal melody resonated through the Endless Void. A white lotus bloomed serenely, its faint fragrance wafting into the air, appearing beneath both their feet.  

Ji Yunlai’s gaze narrowed. He knew well that as a mere spirit fragment, he could not perform excessive power. If he directly used his true essence to break the lotus’ seal, the talisman housing this spirit fragment would be obliterated, leaving only his spirit behind. In that case, his options for action would be severely limited.  

Even so, he stared coldly at the High Priest. Did the man truly believe he had no means to counter this?  

The High Priest gave a slight nod. “Yun Lai, cease your hand.”  

“To utter such words—you truly are the same Luo Qingxiao from back then.” Ji Yunlai sneered.  

The High Priest’s expression softened with unexpected warmth. “I was never a virtuous man. Who could resist, when little Yun was so adorable back then? Bullying you was hard to stop.”  

Ji Yunlai was momentarily stunned by his shamelessness, rendered speechless.  

“The High Priest of Great Xuan has always maintained supreme dignity for thousands of years. I almost thought that was my true nature.” The High Priest leaned against the lotus, chuckling softly. “When Yin Yanxiu accidentally saw my real self, he lured me in countless ways, liking me at first, then turning against me when our politics clashed. Out of duty, I endured until he finally offered me the wine of certain death. Enraged, I beheaded him. That moment cleared my mind entirely. From then on, I’ve been unburdened by the affairs of this world. What you see as excess, I see as indifference. I have never personally targeted you.”  

Ji Yunlai studied him for a long while before speaking slowly. “Do you realize your actions have led you into the demonic path?”  

“So what? The Dao has no hierarchy; people have no inherent worth. We struggle on the path to seek truth, not to sacrifice for mortals.” The High Priest said plainly. “Besides, you, as an otherworldly soul—can you truly say you’re acting on behalf of these mortals?”  

Ji Yunlai gripped his sword tightly, his cold gaze locked on the High Priest.  

“Strange, isn’t it?” The High Priest gestured to the stream nearby and smiled. “Do you see the Three Paths River? It flows through the void and the realms of all living beings. When Ji Yunlai died at five years old, it was fate. If not for my need for a human Dao vessel to overcome tribulations, why would I have ventured beyond the Three Paths to capture a stray soul not belonging to this world? For your mortal body, I gathered no fewer than 100,000 souls before finding a match. Such a favor is akin to remaking you. Did you know that, Yun Lai?”  

Ji Yunlai’s anger surged. “So I should thank you?”  

“No need. Between us, there’s no need for gratitude.” The High Priest nodded with a smile. “Give me the Imperial Seal, and we’ll be even.” 

Ji Yunlai silently tightened his grip on the Formless Sword energy in his hand, remaining silent.  

The High Priest sensed that something was amiss. Just as he was about to press further, a cool, clear voice echoed: “Did I ever agree to that balance?”  

He looked up to see Ji Yunlai, dressed in dark robes, standing silently outside the lotus barrier.  

The High Priest glanced again at the Ji Yunlai identical in every way inside the lotus. A bitter taste arose in his heart.  

That was far too fast. The lotus had the power to block divine consciousness, rendering it impossible for even a spirit fragment to inform the main body. How had he learned so quickly?  

The High Priest couldn’t fathom it.  

Could it be that Ji Yunlai no longer cared about Kun-Lai’s internet?  

These thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant, but his actions did not falter. In the blink of an eye, he abandoned the white lotus artifact and darted toward the end of the stream.  

Behind him, the ninety-nine petals of the white lotus scattered like snowflakes, forming a seemingly impenetrable barrier.  

But the Xing Dao Master merely raised a hand and pointed.  

Unlike the sharp and menacing sword energy of the spirit fragment, this sword energy carried no visible power. It was as gentle as a spring breeze brushing across one’s face.  

Yet under this seemingly gentle sword energy, the layers of petals disintegrated like fleeting illusions. The sword energy transcended distance and time, blurring even the boundaries between life and death.  

The sword struck its target with undeniable precision. The High Priest spat out a mouthful of blood but made no attempt to counterattack. Instead, he accelerated, plunging into the Abyss below and vanishing without a trace.  

Only then did Ji Yunlai lower his hand.  

The spirit fragment across from him nodded and suddenly transformed into a talisman, drifting gently into Ji Yunlai’s palm.  

Xiao Qing must have been terrified. It was best to check on him first.  

Just as Ji Yunlai focused his thoughts and prepared to leave, a strange sensation overtook him. He lifted his gaze.  

Amidst the darkness of the sky, a sinister demonic presence loomed, so oppressive that even Ji Yunlai felt its weight. Yet it was unmistakably familiar…  

The question barely formed in his mind when the overwhelming demonic presence coalesced, taking a shape so familiar it left him stunned.  

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“…Qing?”  

He had barely spoken the name when the demonic figure charged forward like a storm, slamming him forcefully to the ground.  

“Qing?” Ji Yunlai cautiously asked again, but in the next instant, the figure leaned down and pressed their lips together.

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

When Feng Qingxiu emerged from the flying peak with the wind at his back, someone was there to stop him.  

The disciple called Yang Fuyin, was the first to discover him—clearly having placed a ward that would alert him near Feng Qingxiu beforehand.  

The moment their gazes met, Feng Qingxiu saw that the seal in Yang Fuyin’s right eye began to spin violently, emitting light as brilliant as the blazing sun.  

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

But the refined and imposing man standing beside him merely raised his hand lightly.  

It was the same gesture as his master’s—graceful and effortless—as he pulled Senior Brother Yang closer.  

There was no light, no sword aura—just complete, overwhelming suppression, executed with casual ease. Before the light in Senior Brother Yang’s right eye could fully manifest, it was wiped away, as gently as one might brush away a lover’s tears. The gesture was so soft, like spring rain nurturing the earth, leaving no trace behind.  

One strike missed, and Yang Fuyin withdrew his hand, no longer resisting.  

The man across from him was unquestionably a true Human Immortal—not like Su Wan, a shallow version. It would be better to quietly follow this man and see if there was an opportunity to escape along the way, rather than calling out Elder Bai Shuixian and getting them both caught.  

Exchanging a glance with Feng Qingxiu, they both instantly understood the other’s intentions.  

The man also nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied. He then reached out and casually made a motion in the air. In an indescribable instant, the world shifted, and in the blink of an eye, they arrived at the mouth of the Nine Abyss.  

“Let’s go,” the elegant man said, leading the way down a narrow path.  

Feng Qingxiu gazed at the deep gorge below. It seemed to carry a strange allure, as if calling him to jump.  

“Don’t look there,” the man said, covering his eyes with a hand and speaking in a voice as gentle as flowing water. “That’s the mouth of the Endless Void. If you fall, you’ll end up in an unknown place and time, with no way back.”  

“Sir, since you are already a Human Immortal, must you resort to coercion? It weakens your dignity,” Feng Qingxiu said earnestly, his expression sincere.  

Anyone capable of defeating Senior Brother Yang so easily must be at the same level as his master—a peerless individual. So why resort to such means? Surely there was an ulterior motive.  

“If your master was willing to sit down and talk with me, why would I need to bring you along?” the man replied with a faint smile, shaking his head. His long, jet-black hair was casually tied at the back, and every gesture and glance carried an elegance as if it were a melody.  

“But won’t this only provoke him further?” Feng Qingxiu asked, worried.  

“He’s not so easily angered. I simply want to confirm something,” the man said, as if to comfort him. He reached out, seemingly intending to pat his head.  

Feng Qingxiu tilted his head to dodge. Though he knew it was futile against a Human Immortal, he still wanted to make his rejection clear. His body belonged to his master—how could he allow just anyone to touch him?  

Seeing his refusal, the man didn’t insist, withdrawing his hand and continuing forward in silence.  

His presence seemed to emit an invisible light, dispelling the surrounding gloom. Within a radius of several miles, the divine consciousness could flow freely.  

After a moment of silence, Feng Qingxiu turned to his senior brother. “Senior Brother, I was struggling with a problem in my last warding lesson. Do you know why wild star flower ink doesn’t work when writing the seals in wards?”  

This was a code they often used when discussing spellcraft. Wild star flower ink, developed by Kun-Lai, was specifically for writing talisman spells—not wards. The only reason it wouldn’t work was if one didn’t know the spell’s name.  

On the surface, it sounded like a simple query, but the real question was: Do you know this man’s name? 

Yang Fuyin nodded. “I don’t know either, but I imagine you didn’t prepare it properly. Try writing it again; it shouldn’t take long.”  

He was saying: I don’t know this man’s name, but he’s not one of the long-established figures in the Central Continent. He’s likely a young Human Immortal from the Great Xuan.

“I see. Then why did it fail?” Feng Qingxiu asked, implying: Do you know his intentions?

“Probably a mistake in the process,” Yang Fuyin replied, his meaning clear: I don’t know, but it’s probably nothing good. Let’s stay calm and wait for an opportunity.

“I understand. Thank you,” Feng Qingxiu said with a nod.  

The two fell silent again. Along the way, many ghostly creatures crossed their path, but both Feng Qingxiu and Yang Fuyin dealt with them on their own, without needing anyone’s help.  

Eventually, they arrived at a boundless field of wild grass in the depths of the Abyss.  

Yang Fuyin’s eyes narrowed slightly. This was not the place he and the Kun-Lai disciples had descended to years ago. He could use warding techniques to find the Black Witchland from back then, but it would take time.  

Yet this man had brought them directly to the territory of the Wu tribe. Not far away floated a Kun-Lai Dao Seed. Whose was it, and what was this man’s purpose?  

His concerns grew, and he moved closer to Feng Qingxiu.  

“Please halt, High Priest,” a deep, magnetic voice called out from the shadows. A tall, bare-chested man holding a bear-headed staff stepped forward to block their path. “Ahead lies the land of my tribe. By the ancient accords and the Great Xuan’s decree, entering here means death.”  

The High Priest nodded. “But the Great Xuan Dynasty is long gone.”  

“The Great Xuan is gone? That’s a lie you may tell the Human Immortals, but you and I both know better,” the Wu clansman replied calmly. “Otherwise, why would you come here?”  

“Then why stop me? Only when the Great Xuan is truly gone can we be free,” the High Priest said mildly. “All things in this world are bound by cause and effect. You understand the truth of the Three Lives Three Worlds Codex better than I.”  

“Precisely. Which is why you should show sincerity to that Dao Master,” the W clansman replied. “Conflict would harm you both, while cooperation benefits all. You are not one to wallow in resentment.”  

“Harming someone and then discussing resentment with them is shameless,” the High Priest said, rejecting the suggestion. “So, Wu Zhan, will you not step aside?”  

“I cannot allow you to seek the Dao Master in the Dao Seed’s world. Many of my clansmen live there. If you clash, how many would survive?”  

“You’re as stubborn as ever,” the High Priest sighed. “Very well. I’ll wait here.”  

The Wu clansman stood silently, unmoving.  

Yang Fuyin, feeling foolish standing around, eventually brought out a table, chairs, and tea set, inviting Feng Qingxiu to sit and drink tea.  

Feng Qingxiu joined him, quietly sipping his tea.  

The High Priest smiled briefly and also sat down, even inviting the Wu clansman to join them.  

The Wu clansman remained still, but upon sensing the lingering aura of a certain young lady, he hesitated. His deep voice resonated: “This young lady—you outsiders would do well not to consume anything in the Witchlands. If you do, the clash of spiritual and nether energies upon returning to the mortal realm would disrupt your cultivation at best, or kill you on the spot at worst.”  

Yang Fuyin raised an eyebrow and softened his tone. “So, you cannot leave this place either?”  

Feng Qingxiu thought, Senior Brother, where’s your dignity? Pretending to be a woman just because they mistook you for one? But—impressive tactic!

Even the High Priest stifled a laugh.  

The Wu clansman remained silent.  

“Thank you for your concern,” Yang Fuyin said in a faintly melancholic tone. “It’s my first time here, and I worry about my elders. Might you enlighten me and my junior brother?”  

The Wu clansman didn’t respond.  

Yang Fuyin arched an elegant brow and continued in a gentle voice, “Kun-Lai once traded with your people and understands your hardships. I’ve even brought the salt and rice you need. Please don’t make things difficult for us.”  

Feng Qingxiu covered his mouth to hide his amusement.  

After hearing a few soft requests, the Wu clansman finally spoke. “The others are still wandering outside. Once the Wu wards activate, only those familiar with its workings can find this place.”  

Yang Fuyin immediately understood why he had been the first to arrive.  

His gaze naturally fell on the High Priest, who had not bothered to mention this. Clearly, the man had ulterior motives.  

“I forgot,” the High Priest said regretfully. “When I descended here back then, I no longer needed food or drink. How could I know these things? But you, Wu Zhan, having guarded those things—when they make their way out of the wards, they’ll deal with you first.”  

“Helping you then was simply my duty,” Wu Zhan replied evenly. “But Priest, heed my words: one who kills will be killed in turn. Excessive measures bring regret.”  

“Heh~” The High Priest did not respond.  

“Is there something you’re guarding here? Life here seems so harsh,” Yang Fuyin asked curiously, his voice soft and girlish, which only added to Feng Qingxiu’s growing pressure.  

The Wu clansman remained silent.  

“Is it something you can’t talk about?” Senior Brother Yang asked gently.  

After some deliberation, Wu Zhan replied, “The Three Lives Three Worlds Codex is a supreme treasure of the Great Xuan. It ensures that souls crossing the Three Paths River remain indestructible and unforgetting. Back then, the Great Xuan sought to harness the fortune of humanity. The second method was to control the underworld. However, this place is peculiar and vastly different from the human realm. Even those who reach the Human Immortal stage struggle to extend their divine consciousness here. To ensure the Great Xuan’s eternal reign, the second emperor devised another method.”  

Yang Fuyin noticed the High Priest didn’t stop him and listened intently.  

“This method is—” Wu Zhan suddenly stopped speaking, sensing a peculiar presence. He turned abruptly, only to see the silent Kun-Lai Sect Leader quietly standing behind him, his gaze fixed on someone opposite.  

“It’s been a while,” the High Priest said, placing his hand on Feng Qingxiu’s shoulder, preventing Ji Yunlai from stepping any closer.  

As a result, he got his answer: “You’ve truly regained your emotions.”  

Ji Yunlai’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “So what, Uncle?”  

“There’s no ‘so what.’ I only sought an answer.” The High Priest removed his hand from Feng Qingxiu’s shoulder and sighed. “When I confronted you before, you held nothing back. Yet, you did not hurt this child. That made me suspicious. I traveled thousands of miles just to confirm it. You are a spirit fragment, while I am the main body. I wouldn’t go as far as to use two children to threaten you again.”  

“You can try,” Ji Yunlai said flatly.  

“No need,” the High Priest replied, stepping away from the two juniors. “I only wish to ask you once more: will you return the Great Xuan Imperial Seal?”  

“No,” Ji Yunlai rejected without hesitation. Whether he remembered what it was or not, he would never hand it over under coercion.  

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Then we are truly enemies,” the High Priest said calmly.  

His answer was met with an unparalleled, domineering sword aura that nearly flung him into the distant waterfall.  

“We’ve always been,” Ji Yunlai said with equal calm, his sword pointing to the ground.

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

The thought of whether or not to continue with Xiao Qing lingered in Ji Yunlai’s mind, like a pendulum swinging back and forth. Even if he could not be considered a thousand-year-old monster, in his previous life, he was still an older man. Ji Yunlai couldn’t help but feel guilty thinking about taking advantage of Xiao Qing, who was so young and innocent. But…

When he remembered that he might have promised to marry Xiao Qing in a past life, Ji Yunlai felt even more conflicted. After all, Xiao Qing now knew nothing of the past, and only looked up to him as a mentor. He also seemed to have had a fiancée once—though she had been stolen away by someone else, that didn’t mean Xiao Qing now liked men. Moreover, with Xiao Qing’s pride, if he really married him, the rumors across Kun-Lai would surely embarrass him.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Ji Yunlai’s mind was full of a thousand thoughts, for the first time in his life feeling the anxiety of having romantic feelings for someone. So, until he figured out Xiao Qing’s feelings, he couldn’t act rashly. He needed to slowly cultivate their relationship. After all, time was on their side; Xiao Qing would be by his side for a long time. Besides, he had been single for two lifetimes and had never pursued anyone before.

Ji Yunlai silently calculated his approach, then raised his head.

Opposite him, the Wu clan leader quietly watched him, neither begging nor attacking, as if leaving all the decisions in his hands.

There was no rush to retrieve the Dao Seed. He wasn’t fully familiar with this world yet. Ji Yunlai thought for a moment and then disappeared before the man’s eyes.

Wu Zhan lowered his gaze in thought for a moment, then turned and stepped outside to where a group of concerned  clansmen had gathered.

“I’ll head out first.” As the clan leader, Wu Zhan had to reassure them. “No matter what, I’ll have more leverage to negotiate with him outside.”

This world belonged to him, without any shamanic arts. The other could crush him with a single finger if he wished.

He looked up at the sun in the sky, ignored the clan’s pleas, and left. Entering the portal to the Dao Seed, he returned to the darkness of the Nine Abyss.

The Great Xuan Curse was indeed difficult, but he had gained some insights from the Lord of Kun-Lai. Regardless of whether they were friends or foes, without enough leverage, it was too passive to negotiate.

If his guess was right, he might have something to offer as a show of sincerity.

Twenty years ago, this lord had come to the Nine Abyss searching for something. That thing was nearly impossible to find, but after hearing about it, Wu Zhan had kept an eye out and had found a clue a few days ago. The waterfall was too dangerous, though, and he hadn’t made up his mind. But if it was for the clan, he’d have to take the risk.

The Black Wu clan had suffered too much over the years.

Suddenly, there was a noise not far away. Wu Zhan, after years of experience in the Witchlands, easily saw through the fog. He saw a person stretching a hand toward the Dao Seed on the altar.

It wasn’t the woman from before but a foreigner.

Without hesitation, Wu Zhan appeared silently in front of the Dao Seed and struck the intruder with a palm. A seal flashed on the intruder’s body, dissipating most of the impact. The intruder only stepped back a few paces, but almost simultaneously, the surrounding wards activated, binding him in chains.

Unfortunately, the Black Wu’s sinister power caused a slight delay in the ward’s activation.

Wu Zhan took the opportunity to break free and engaged the intruder for several moments. The talisman seals were severely restricted in this place, and Wu Zhan, familiar with the terrain, engaged in close combat. Within a few hundred breaths, he was on the verge of luring the intruder into the Abyss Waters when the other suddenly sensed something was wrong and retreated.

…It seemed this person was from the same sect as that Lord.

Wu Zhan recalled the feel of the hand he’d made contact during their fight—so soft and smooth, like silk. Though the waist was a bit sturdier, it was quite strong. That young lady must be a beautiful woman, well-suited for childbirth, right?

***

Above the Nine Heavens, there was a familiar palace.

Ji Yunlai, on this world’s sun, found his work log, filled with familiar notes and scribbled corrections on various seals and wards. A pen continued to automatically write out internal test records on the platform.

Seeing the volume of data the pen had recorded over the centuries gave him a headache.

He opened his work log.

“After infusing Human Immortal spiritual energy, the Dao Seed is growing steadily, generating 96,000 cubic units of rock per second. Spiritual energy resources are sufficient for infinite growth… September 3rd: Added a light system… September 4th: Introduced water source, established cycle… September 16th: Qing took over for ten days, planted 26,300 species, survival rate 10.125%… Released small creatures… Lack of natural predators, uncontrolled population growth… Introduced predators… Predator population out of control… Ecological collapse… Format and restart growth… Adjust settings, reduce survival rate of high-tier creatures… Stopped spiritual energy infusion, reset…”

Bit by bit, the log detailed how many times this world had experienced apocalyptic destruction.

Ji Yunlai took a deep breath to calm himself.

The work log wasn’t long, only a few lines a day, but it had taken him countless hours, distilling his understanding of the Dao into this world, simulating its operations like a 3D online game. The resources were ready, just waiting for someone to play.

But it wasn’t just a simulation of an outer shell—this was the simulation of the world’s workings. He had touched the source code of this world—the Dao itself.

Ji Yunlai even realized why he could cast any incantation effortlessly: he had already tested everything countless times in this small world. His understanding of the world’s laws likely rivaled that of the thousand-year-old monsters in the three major sects.

Just thinking about it, he knew how much effort he had poured into this world.

Yet he had given it away so easily.

He could clearly feel that his Dao Seed was fully matured and could no longer return to his body, like fruit that had fallen from a tree.

Suddenly, he looked around.

Something wasn’t right. The world was missing something crucial.

With so many things running, he didn’t have time to manage everything manually. There had to be an auxiliary system.

Where could it be?

***

At Zhuiyun Peak. His master had been gone for two days. Feng Qingxiu sat on the cliff for a long time, to the point that Qingnu joked he had turned into a “waiting-for-husband stone.”

Feng Qingxiu only glanced at her without responding.

“I don’t understand what you’re worried about,” Qingnu said as she looked out at the distant shadows of massive chasms. Divine consciousness couldn’t penetrate or escape from there, so nothing could be seen. “There’s no need to worry about your master. Besides, the Sect Leader only sent a spirit fragment to investigate. His true body is hundreds of thousands of miles away in Kun-Lai Mountain. To him, a split fragment is nothing.”

“You really do want to mess with my master,” Feng Qingxiu said dangerously, scrutinizing her like a lion eyeing a banquet.

“Familiarity aside, words shouldn’t be thrown around carelessly.” Qingnu rolled her eyes in disdain. “I admit I’m curious to see the difference between a Human Immortal and a Synthesis cultivator, but that’s with regard to others. My loyalty to the Sect Leader is as clear as the heavens and earth! Besides, the one who wants to mess with the Sect Leader is clearly you.”

“Rubbish!” Feng Qingxiu’s fingers crackled with sword energy. “How could I…”

“I’m not the one who said it.” Qingnu quickly pulled out her Net Charm to prove her innocence. “See for yourself. The gossip about the two of you has been dominating the headlines recently.”

“Not interested,” Feng Qingxiu responded calmly. “But Senior Brother Yang, who’s managed the network for so long, allowing such rampant rumors, is clearly at fault.”

“Yikes.” Yang Fuyin, who had been quietly watching from the opposite cliff, glanced at him and uploaded the latest ban data to the web, proving that suppressing gossip only made it worse. He also sent the information to Junior Brother Feng.

Feng Qingxiu remained unfazed. “It’s precisely because Senior Brother Yang censors it so recklessly that the rumors are out of control.”

“Qing, you’re becoming less cute,” Yang Fuyin chuckled softly. “How about I take you there?”

At this, even Feng Qingxiu, as well as the lethargic You Jia beside Qingnu—who had been cut off from the web for a month—perked up.

Feng Qingxiu struggled for a moment before calmly replying, “Master has ordered that I must not go.”

Yang Fuyin’s lips curled slightly. This was the Qing he knew.

“Senior Brother Yang, why did you come back so quickly? Weren’t you with Peak Master An and the others?” Across the mountain, You Jia asked with curiosity.

“I got separated from them. I’m afraid of the dark, so I came back early,” Yang Fuyin replied calmly. In reality, he had encountered an opponent. That Wu clansman had the advantage of the terrain, and the Nine Abyss’ natural barriers that blocked spiritual senses, leaving everything pitch-black. Although his mastery of seals and wards was superior, his foundation was still too shallow, so he was driven out. He was now calculating a way to set up a ward to allow him to be in the dark Witchlands without being affected, so he could reclaim his honor.

No one believed him, and the others looked at him with disdain.

Feng Qingxiu was feeling melancholic, barely able to make small talk with them before gazing into the distance again. Could it be that his master was displeased with him for being disrespectful last time? Was that why he left without a word and hadn’t returned for so long?

In the future, he would definitely watch his words and actions, reflect deeply, and hope that his master wouldn’t be angry anymore.  

…In truth, he actually liked being teased by his master. Seeing his master happy and being the subject of playful remarks, what was there to be upset about?

“The Sect Leader does not despise you,” Yang Fuyin said with amusement from his mountain cliff, smiling.

They were all cultivators, so even though they were far apart, they could hear each other without raising their voices. The certainty in Yang Fuyin’s tone was clear to everyone on Zhuiyun Peak.

“Does Senior Brother Yang know some inside story?” You Jia asked expectantly, thinking of a headline, this must be a headline.

“Of course I know,” Yang Fuyin responded, somewhat pridefully. When he was studying at Zhaoyue Peak back in the day, what he knew wasn’t just some simple gossip. Faced with You Jia’s eager gaze, he merely smiled and said, “But I’m not telling.”

You Jia really wanted to hit him but didn’t dare.

After chatting for a while more, they all dispersed.

Only Feng Qingxiu remained, still staring into the distance.

“I can take you to see him,” suddenly, a soft yet unfamiliar voice sounded by his ear.

Feng Qingxiu turned abruptly, releasing his formless sword energy without reservation, sending it out with a thunderous boom.

This person hadn’t left any traces in the great ward. How could they have entered flying peak?

“Don’t be afraid,” the man reached out, catching the formless sword energy with his fingers. His features were gentle and serene, resembling a deity. Dressed in green robes with long hair, he exuded the refined air of aged wine, lingering in its charm. His appearance bore a striking resemblance to Feng Qingxiu’s master, at least seven parts similar.

“How did you get in?” Feng Qingxiu frowned.

“Because we share the same blood and origin,” the man explained gracefully and then smiled slightly. “The other old peaks are guarded against me, but your new peak is not. Interesting. Come, let’s go see him.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Feng Qingxiu wanted to flee, but he couldn’t.

“I won’t hurt you before you see him,” the man’s expression turned cold, and he looked toward the direction of Nine Abyss chasm, sighing softly. “Though the heart hasn’t changed, people can’t resist the passing of time and the shifting of the stars.”

If you had heeded my words back then, it would not have come to this between us.

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

Ji Yunlai withdrew his hand, feeling a mix of complex emotions that were hard to describe.

After a long while, he finally let out a light laugh.

Oh well, the cart will find a way around the mountain when it gets there. There’s still plenty of time. Whether Xiao Qing and that Great Celestial Demon are the same, it doesn’t matter.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

I like Xiao Qing. There’s plenty of time for him to grow.

But first, let’s focus on business.

He looked up at the warm sun in the sky, reaching out to feel its warmth.

This isn’t the real sun.

Rather… Ji Yunlai’s eyes flickered several times as he analyzed it, still feeling a bit muddled.

This is the game backend he wrote years ago.

This world actually… What now? Ji Yunlai realized that the version of himself who hadn’t lost his memory might be the real winner in life.

Not only did he have men falling for him, but he also created a semi-real game world.

The sun in the sky is the game engine, controlling the world’s data. There are billions of demonic intents entering and exiting the sun, reincarnating into flowers, birds, fish, and insects.

Again and again, those demonic intents are formatted, their memories wiped clean, turning into another kind of soul.

And the life here is real.

He plucked a blade of grass, a common foxtail grass, and it tasted just like the one he used to chew on in the past.

It seems… like a pretty good world…

***

Smoke rose from the village of grass huts, and the peaceful settlement became lively. Women in grass skirts called out to children to come home for meals, while a group of people gathered around a large wild boar, dividing its meat. Everyone clustered together, chatting about daily life.

“I’ll trade some meat for your salt,” said a man to his companion.

“No way, we’re low on salt at home too. Let’s wait a bit.”

“Exactly, the time’s almost here, the salt delivery should arrive soon,” someone nearby chimed in.

“Do you think they’ll still be able to find us here this time?” someone asked anxiously.

“They’ll definitely find us. Didn’t we leave someone behind in the Black Witchlands to wait for them?”

“Hard to say. If they realize we’ve moved here, will they try to take our place?” another person wondered.

“There are plenty of good spots outside the Black Witchlands, they wouldn’t care about this place,” someone else replied dismissively.

“You never know. A good place like this could be carried with you. Didn’t the chieftain send people to guard the place so they wouldn’t come into the village?” another person asked.

“No use. This place was given to us by someone else back in the day. They said they’d take it back after a hundred years.” Someone nearby sighed.

“We’ve quietly built so many hidden paths, they can’t come down here, can they?” someone suggested a sneaky idea.

“The chieftain said we have to return it to them. Don’t even think about it,” someone sneered. “Stop dreaming.”

“So you’re willing to stay in the Black Witchlands? Eating ghosts every day, turning us into some kind of ghost creature?” someone angrily retorted.

“Then what do you suggest? Just staying inside and not leaving, I’d be willing. You go ask the chieftain if he’s willing.”

“Stop talking. The chieftain is coming,” someone whispered.

And so, everyone stopped talking, turning their gaze towards the forested mountain in the distance.

A shirtless man with a bundle of freshly cut wood on his back walked out of the forest. His short hair was messy, his features were sharp, and his body was tall and strong, with taut bronze muscles. A fierce bear head was tattooed on his full left chest. He followed the mountain path, dropping the firewood at the village entrance. Seeing them still dawdling around after dividing the meat, he raised an eyebrow slightly: “Don’t you need to feed the children? Why are you all gathered here?”

“Chieftain, the hundred-year period is almost up.” The others looked at him pitifully.

“Yes, back then that woman said we could only keep it for a hundred years, and she’d come to take it back.” A young woman, holding her newborn child, looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Though the agreement was made, we’ve been living here for a hundred years now. What do you think we should do?” someone else asked.

The man with the bear head tattoo remained calm: “This place was never meant to be permanent. It’s time to return.”

“Chieftain!” The villagers’ voices carried a hint of desperation.

“In this place, an independent pocket of space, separate from the outside world, there’s no way to practice shamanic arts. If you stay here, you’ll only live for a hundred years.” The man’s eyes were dark, like a deep pool, filled with a calm and peaceful serenity. “When you return to the Witchlands, you can live for hundreds, even thousands of years. We’ve lived that life before.”

“It’s not the same,” one clansman couldn’t help but argue. “What’s the use of living for two thousand years in the Black Witchlands? We can’t go in or out, eating ghosts and fighting demons every day. I didn’t eat my first bite of grass until I came into this little world.”

“Exactly,” another clansman agreed. “Though we can’t use the shamanic arts here, life is peaceful. Living for a hundred years here is better than a thousand years outside.”

“Yeah, chieftain, you could just chase that woman away this time!” The Wu clansmen started chiming in, voices rising in agreement.

The man shook his head: “Someone must remain in the Witchlands. When the time comes, I’ll ask her to take you all away. But you should understand, if you leave with her, you can never leave this world.”

The Wu clansmen began arguing heatedly again.

The man shook his head slightly and walked away in large strides, cutting off half of the wild boar’s head, and took it with him.

The clansman glanced at him but continued to quarrel, debating whether to stay or leave.

The man ignored them, carrying the half boar’s head back to his house, tearing off a piece, and roasting it over his hand.

His broad palm was like a hot iron, and soon the meat was sizzling, dripping with oil. He split it into two portions and placed them in two wooden bowls.

“Zhan, are you really going to stay in the Witchlands?” After a while, a burly man barged in and asked, “Back then, the Great Xuan cast a curse on us. If we leave the Nine Abyss, we’ll die horribly wherever we go. Now that we finally have a chance to leave, why not kill that woman?”

“Eat first.” The man handed him a bowl, sprinkling a little salt and pepper on it.

The other man stared at him for a while, then reluctantly accepted and started eating.

After a while, the chieftain finally spoke: “Have you seen this world?”

“I’ve only traveled a thousand miles. We can’t practice shamanic arts here, and there are too many wild beasts on the road. We can’t make it through.” The burly man replied, “By the way, you’ve been gone for two hundred years. Did you see anything?”

Time in this world moved three times faster than in the Black Witchlands. Three days here equaled one day outside. If not for the inability to practice shamanic arts, it really was a blessed land.

“Admiration.” The chieftain’s expression remained calm, unchanged even as he spoke of admiration, though the reverence in his words was genuine. “Though you can’t practice cultivation here, this world already has reincarnation.”

The burly man froze: “That’s impossible.”

“Do you see the sun in the sky? I once saw it set in the eastern sea, and then, as its light dimmed, it rose again, becoming the moon. The entire world’s Daoist principles each follow their own logic, which forms the reasoning for reincarnation. That bright sun in the sky is the central axis of this world, and countless demonic intents trapped here in the past have all been assimilated, becoming the flowers, birds, fish, and insects of this world. I once heard of the Grand Xuan secret realms, but it was first filled with creatures to let them multiply. Over time, it replenished itself, but rarely did it form a self-contained world.” The man gazed at the light outside the window and said, “So, the master of this realm is not to be opposed.”

“The only one willing to stay behind is probably you,” the burly man sighed.

The Black Witchlands were no place for living creatures to inhabit. Without the barriers between this separate world and the outside world, they were like starving ghosts, indistinguishable from malevolent spirits. Now that they can live normal lives, even reproduce, it’s hard to describe how happy they were back then.

If they had never received it from the start, they might have endured. But having gained it and then losing it—the pain of that is beyond words.

“Staying behind alone is fine,” the man quietly said. “The extinction of the Black Wu clan is not a bad thing.”

The burly man fell silent for a while before whispering, “Actually, if you gave that thing to Luo Qingxiao, perhaps…”

“It’s useless. Luo Qingxiao, as the High Priest of Great Xuan, defied fate and killed the Emperor, suffering a backlash of terrifying proportions,” the man leaned by the window, watching a white bird fly out from the distant mountains and forests. “He’s already struggling to protect himself. In another hundred years, if he can’t retrieve the Great Xuan’s Imperial Seal and open the Nine Abyss, I’m afraid…”

He suddenly stopped speaking, his expression turning serious: “Greetings, Realm Lord.”

The burly man was startled, finally noticing Ji Yunlai standing beside them. Just as he was about to act, the clan leader covered his mouth, pressed down his hands, and dragged him outside, throwing him far away.

The small hut fell silent.

After a while, Ji Yunlai spoke lightly, “How much do you know about Luo Qingxiao?”

“The third-generation High Priest of the Great Xuan, the last direct descendant of Kun-Lai,” the man looked at the other’s face and demeanor, so similar to Luo Qingxiao, and recalling that his spirit had stirred slightly when he heard Luo Qingxiao’s name which gave away his presence, he quickly shared what he knew. “Ten thousand years ago, when the Great Xuan was newly established, the Central Continent had four great sects: Jietian Dao, Ziyun Dao, Taiqing Sect, and Kun-Lai Sect. The purple clouds connect to the Heavenly Way, from the Great Purity arises the white lotus. Strong grass grows with the swift wind, and henceforth, Kun-Lai is revealed. These were the four great sects. Among them, Kun-Lai was the leader, but a disciple there cultivated the Way of Fortune, which the sect deemed a shortcut and did not value. The Great Xuan’s founding emperor accidentally obtained this fortune cultivation method. Later, when the Great Xuan was established, they first destroyed Kun-Lai and obtained the complete inheritance of fortune cultivation. They also withheld Kun-Lai’s rightful lineage, using it to blackmail the fortune line into eternal service to the Great Xuan. If they defied, they would not die a good death.”

As for how they wouldn’t die a good death, though he had some guesses, he felt there was no need to mention them.

“Is that so?” Ji Yunlai nodded but didn’t seem to want to say more.

Recently, he’d learned a lot.

“How did you recognize me?” After a long silence, Ji Yunlai suddenly asked.

The man’s expression became somewhat strange. After a brief pause, he reluctantly pulled out a stack of paper from the straw bed and respectfully handed it over. “I found this by the river in this world.”

Paper was rare in the Witchlands, so he was a bit pained to part with it.

It was Kun-Lai’s most common white talisman paper, with drawings of his likeness.

The paper had many folds, and following one of the creases, it was folded into a lotus lantern.

At the bottom of the lantern was written: ‘I hope in the next life, he will marry me as promised.’

Ji Yunlai was silent for a moment and suddenly felt like he was a bit of a scoundrel.

Mini Extra: An Xian & Qiao Long

It was December, the deep of winter.

A seven-year-old child, wearing tattered clothes, was using a sharp stone to strike the thick ice on the river. Snowflakes fell on his brows and eyes, freezing him to the point of shivering, but he didn’t stop.  

But the ice was thick and hard, not something a normal child could easily break through.  

An Xian sat on a dead tree, gulping down strong liquor, watching indifferently.  

After nearly an hour, the ice finally had a small hole, and the child picked up a wooden fork, focusing intently on the water below.  

Soon, he skillfully speared a few fish and ran off the ice.  

But in a flash, a wild dog emerged from the bushes, blocking his path.  

After a tough battle, the child dragged his bitten arm and the dog he had speared to death.  

The fierce and determined look in his eyes made An Xian take another swig of liquor.  

This wolf cub reminds me of myself!  

***

An Xian saw that child practicing some swordsmanship with a branch, not knowing where he had learned it from.

His comprehension was quite good.

An Xian watched the child practice for a year, the same few moves, back and forth, his mastery so fluid it was as if they were extensions of his body.

But he still persisted in practicing, never slacking for a single day.

An Xian saw him fleeing, covered in blood. Those chasing him said he had stolen sword techniques and wanted to kill him.

Along the way, he laid various traps and ambushes, cunning as a wolf, using the familiar terrain to pick off his pursuers one by one.

Finally, exhausted, he collapsed under a tree.

An Xian watched coldly and took another swig of wine.

***

He struggled up, tended to his wounds, glanced into the distance, and caught a few rats. He was badly injured and couldn’t start a fire.

After a moment of hesitation, he skinned and ate the rats raw.

An Xian chuckled softly. He really was going through all the experiences she had in her youth.

She hooked her finger and lifted the child up by her hand.

Perhaps things wouldn’t be boring for a while.

“What’s your name?” An Xian asked him.

“It’s none of your business, let me go!” The child squirmed in her arms.

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t say. I found you by the bridge, and it’s the dead of winter. I’ll call you Qiao Long.” An Xian declared domineeringly.

“Call me whatever you want, I’m illiterate!” The child replied coldly.

An Xian pointed with her finger, and her sword energy, like thunder, carved the characters “Qiao Long” into the frozen river. The ice, three feet thick, seemed as fragile as paper under her sword’s force.

The child gave her a scrutinizing look, as if assessing her.

“Do you want to learn?” An Xian flicked her head back arrogantly.

The child lowered his head: “Stupid woman, you wrote the character ‘Long’ wrong.”

“…”

Mini Extra: High Priest & Qiu Tansheng

Qiu Tansheng had a childhood nickname, Xiao Xiao (Little Little).

One day, Qiu Xiao Xiao asked the High Priest, “What is love, and what is hate?”

The High Priest patted his apprentice’s head and gave him a warm stone.

Qiu Xiao Xiao held it in his hand, finding nothing special—it was just an ordinary stone.

Then the High Priest took out another stone just like it and handed it to him.

Qiu Xiao Xiao was burned by the stone.

“Are you trying to say that love is warmth, and hate is pain?” Qiu Xiao Xiao mused.

“No,” the High Priest chuckled softly, “what I’m saying is that if you don’t touch it, all you’ll see is the surface, and you won’t know what love and hate feel like.”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Qiu Xiao Xiao nodded: “I’ll go find love.”

Then he left.

That evening, Qiu Xiao Xiao returned with a rabbit that had just gained spiritual sentience: “This is my love.”

“Oh?” The High Priest smiled at him.

“It’s the only creature in the valley that believes I’m capable of love…” Qiu Xiao Xiao shrugged helplessly.

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

As someone who had survived the treacherous human heart in the Central Continent for hundreds of years, Luo Chi naturally wouldn’t believe that this could really be that person. But the fact that the opponent could see the person he was thinking of most at that moment proved that the phantom’s cultivation was exceedingly high. High enough that even with his divine eye, Luo Chi couldn’t detect any sign of illusion.

If he wasn’t busy, Luo Chi wouldn’t have minded getting to know this phantom. But instead, he heightened his vigilance and walked past the figure.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

The phantom, who looked exactly like the Kun-Lai Sect Leader’s soul fragment, glanced at him mildly, then suddenly reached out, grabbed him, and took a wisp of the ghostly fire from his fingertips.

In that instant, Luo Chi tried at least three escape techniques, but none of them worked, making him even more cautious.

Ji Yunlai gazed at the small flame on his fingertip, and with a slight movement of his eyebrows, his powerful and terrifying divine consciousness instantly deconstructed and replicated the entire incantation. This small flame was extremely intricate, a transparent lotus-shaped lamp that used the surrounding darkness as fuel, continuously feeding the light with his mind as the wick. But maintaining the lamp required a lot of mental energy, which was why Luo Chi only had this single wisp of flame.

However, this expenditure meant nothing to the Lord of Kun-Lai.

Ji Yunlai raised his eyes slightly and with a small gesture of his fingers, the flame suddenly flared up as if doused in oil, exploding with a roar. The light was so bright that Luo Chi almost had to close his eyes—though forcibly closing his eyes in the Central Continent was a deadly mistake for any cultivator, as even a momentary distraction could get them killed a hundred times over.

So, he didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he watched as the firelight illuminated the depths of the Abyss, radiating like the sun for thousands upon thousands of miles before transforming into countless stars, drifting through the vast, dark void.

He had traveled many places, met countless people, and explored uncountable secret realms, yet he was still momentarily stunned by this fleeting brilliance.

Before him, the divine being remained cold and distant, like the sole moon in this starry river, icy and radiant, illuminating his long-dormant heart.

In just that brief moment, Ji Yunlai showed him the most beautiful fireworks in the world.

Yet despite the closeness, even in this starry river, it still felt impossibly far away.

Luo Chi was momentarily dazed.

Suddenly, the divine being before him nodded slightly, returning the flame to his fingertips, then turned and disappeared into the void.

Except for the floating starlight around him, everything seemed like a dream.

After a long while, Luo Chi let out a bitter laugh and lowered his hand.

Can I think that you came all this way just to flirt with me?

***

Ji Yunlai burned away the ghostly haze for miles around, allowing the starlight to expand. With the oppressive power now released, his divine consciousness finally spread out without restraint, solving the problem of locating his Dao Seed.

This barren wasteland was only the entrance. A few dozen miles west, there was a small river, and the direction of its flow matched the place where he felt his Dao Seed was.

Why had he left something so important here?

Ji Yunlai thought he had been far too willful in his younger days. If he could do it over, he would at least leave some explanation.

This place was strange. This time, Ji Yunlai didn’t travel by air but instead followed the damp ground, appearing a few miles away with each step. In just a few breaths, he arrived at the riverbank.

The river water was murky, only waist-deep, and teeming with strange, ghostly creatures. On the banks, sedge grass grew alongside white-petaled water lilies, rising and falling with the current.

The river was long, with no end in sight. The opposite bank was shrouded in complete darkness, so much so that even his divine consciousness couldn’t reach across.

From far away, there seemed to be the sound of singing—as if someone was poling a boat slowly toward him.

“On both sides grows waterweed,

swaying with the flow,  

The fair maiden, in sleep I seek.  

I seek her but cannot find her,  

In waking, I long for her, tossing and turning.”

Though the voice was soft and feminine, its source was indiscernible, seeming to come from all directions at once.

Ji Yunlai remained silent for a moment, then raised his hand. In his palm appeared a tiny faceless figure dressed in white, trembling with fear. He glanced again at the riverboat, but the figure on board had disappeared.

“I don’t like wasting time. Either I kill you, or you answer me: where does this river lead?” Ji Yunlai asked the ghost in his hand coldly.

“Who are you…?” the ghost quivered and stammered.

Ji Yunlai didn’t respond, but simply closed his fingers slightly…

“The Ghost Realm!” the ghost said hastily.

Ji Yunlai’s fingers stopped just short of crushing him, and the ghost nearly wept.

Ji Yunlai said nothing, only gazing at him calmly.

Under that soul-piercing gaze, the ghost quickly spilled everything he knew, in a jumble of half-formed thoughts. He was just a native spirit, born and raised here, only aware that crossing the river was forbidden. Those who went never returned. Downstream, there was a Wu tribe, and farther still, after thousands of miles, there was a bottomless waterfall, from which no one could return.

The boat was an illusion; occasionally, spirit demons or other creatures would wander through and be devoured by them. Their souls would be dragged into the river, and no one knew where they went. There were many powerful ghosts here, each ruling their own territory, never interfering with each other.

If anything had been out of the ordinary, it was that a powerful figure had passed through a century ago, heading toward the Wu tribe.

He didn’t know much more beyond that. Other than hearing about some ghost that accidentally climbed the cliff and never returned, he was told that the place was vast and beautiful, and that the fish in the river liked to devour residual souls, or that a new demonic aura had emerged somewhere.

Ji Yunlai listened silently until the other had nothing more to say, then he casually flung him away and turned to head downstream.

The land of this particular Wu tribe, that should be it.

He followed the river downstream, and all the ghosts along the way sensibly avoided him. Soon, he saw a primitive settlement. The roofs were still round, and the people wore grass-woven skirts, looking no different from humans, except for the many different things hanging from their ears—some had live snakes, some had multi-armed ghosts, and some had centipedes.

There weren’t many people, only about a dozen, but there were plenty of houses, enough to accommodate hundreds.

His Dao Seed was not far away, floating openly in the air, placed on something resembling an altar. From time to time, a Wu clansman came out, holding dried meat or fruits, looking satisfied.

Ji Yunlai slowly walked in. The Dao Seed faintly glowed, as if welcoming his arrival. He felt a familiar yet reluctant feeling.

Ji Yunlai walked inside.

It was an illusory sea of clouds, and he saw himself sitting quietly in the void. Opposite him was a shadowy figure, both familiar and elusive.

“How dare they hurt you!” The shadow seethed with anger. “Each and every one of them should be fed to the Celestial Demons!”

“They’ve been plotting this for a long time. It was my negligence; I arrived too late. Qingdi Peak suffered a heavy blow, and the disciples were also injured… This time, they only acted to lure me out, using a strategy of feigned retreat…” The Xing Dao Master’s expression was cold. “First, they blinded the heavenly divinations and ambushed the expedition team. Then, three Human Immortals and two Great Sages launched an attack. If not for you, Kun-Lai would have been in great danger this time.”

“Of course. I could release billions of Celestial Demons to perish together with them. I don’t fear their numbers. But why did you place the Dao Seed in the Witchlands? Taking it out will harm you,” the shadow said, concerned.

“It has nothing to do with you,” the Xing Dao Master in the void replied flatly, holding a Dao Seed in his hand.

“I know, it’s because of the Celestial Demons I released, right?” The shadow circled around him a few times. “I didn’t let those Celestial Demons run loose to harm others. I kept them by my side. You know that once we leave the Celestial Demon Domain, it’s hard to return. You could’ve used them directly to temper your sword.”

The Xing Dao Master looked up at the shadow and explained, “Releasing billions of Celestial Demons may have been a strategy to repel the enemy, but if I didn’t put them in the Dao Seed, masking them with the Nine Abyss’ malevolent energy, it would surely bring down a great calamity. The consequences would be severe, so I must take responsibility.”

“You’re still not healed, how will you take responsibility? The Heavenly Order only knows to cause trouble now, where was it when you were fighting against five enemies alone?” The shadow’s heart ached for him. “Two monsters from the Yuntian Domain, along with three major sect Human Immortals… I told you to release me sooner.”

“This matter is not to be mentioned again. You are the Great Celestial Demon Lord,” the Xing Dao Master coldly responded, but seeing the shadow’s aggrieved expression, he softened his tone. “Celestial Demons are inherently evil. It’s only natural for the Heavenly Order to destroy them. Releasing you would bring a great disaster to the world!”

“You know full well that even if you wanted me to die, I’d be the first to willingly sacrifice myself,” the shadow said sadly. “Forget it. This time, they retreated in fear of you releasing me. Let’s leave it at that for now. I’ll handle the consciousness of those Celestial Demons. Don’t take the Dao Seed out; it’ll damage your foundation. They only have instincts, no awareness.”

After a long silence, the Xing Dao Master slowly called out to him, “Qing.”

“Hmm?” the shadow responded.

“Having just you is enough,” he said gently.

The shadow immediately became elated and swooped down to kiss his face.

Seeing that the Xing Dao Master didn’t resist, the shadow kissed him for a long time before being lightly pushed away with a, “Don’t mess around.”

“The world of the Dao Seed has been edited. The Celestial Demons will have self-awareness as long as their demonic intent are extracted. Let them reincarnate within this world,” the Xing Dao Master said softly. “What I’m doing… isn’t much different from what Celestial Demons do.”

“It’s different. I’m willing to be devoured by you,” Qing suddenly lifted his head. “And now that you’ve released the Dao Seed, we’ll only have the Sealed Demon Hall left to play in.”

The Xing Dao Master said flatly, “The Sealed Demon Hall is big enough, isn’t it?”

“It’s not the same,” Qing blushed slightly. “In the Dao Seed, we could be under the sun…”

The Xing Dao Master glanced at him. “Then let’s go in one more time.”

He got up and walked away.

The void shifted, and Ji Yunlai soon found himself standing in a green, rolling field, with soft breezes and warm sunlight. Crickets chirped in the grass.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Qing and the Xing Dao Master had disappeared.

So, were those just the final memories of the Dao Seed?

As he pondered this, Ji Yunlai stood in the field and caught a tear that had unknowingly fallen from his eye.

Feeling the crushed droplet between his fingertips, he murmured thoughtfully, softly calling out the name.

“Qing…”

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ