The moonlight was soft and dissolving, and among the broken walls and ruined masonry, the chirping of insects drifted like silken threads, accentuating the desolation and quiet seclusion.
Standing amid the rubble, Qin Ming looked out at the distant forested mountains. His worry melted away, giving way to a radiant smile. His body was fully healed and brimmed with extraordinary vitality; how could he look at all like a pieced-together piece of porcelain now?
Yet without looking closely, one wouldn't know. After a careful inspection, Qin Ming received a terrible fright—an extraordinarily grave problem had arisen in an entirely different aspect!
All his heavenly light forces had split apart. Each entrenched itself in its own territory, painting every part of his body in riotous colors.
In the past, whenever he cultivated multiple heavenly light forces, they were ultimately governed and unified into one by the silk book method. Now, every single one had rebelled, each holding ground and lording over its own domain!
Lu Zizai had warned him long ago, and had even imparted Mundane Fire to him so he could temper his true arts. Qin Ming had never imagined that this day would arrive so swiftly!
Ordinarily, if trouble were to brew, a massive eruption would only occur at the later stages. In years past, senior figures whose attainments reached the pinnacle of creation had detonated just like this!
The reason Qin Ming had run into trouble was twofold. First, at his tender age, he had forcefully mastered five great miraculous arts and cultivated over thirty kinds of heavenly light force, with twenty-seven reaching great accomplishment.
And second, which was also the primary cause: this time he had hovered at death's door. One could even say he had truly died for a time. His physical frame had collapsed entirely, rendering him unable to suppress the diverse heavenly light forces.
The scriptures of the silk book had long merged seamlessly into him, becoming an instinct in his very flesh and blood, typically marshaling all techniques. But when his body had been fractured all over and his five viscera shattered, how could it command the arts?
Thus, when the Golden Thread Jade Clothes emerged to heal him and stitch his ruined body back together, the heavenly light forces formed by each separate cultivation method broke free.
His current situation was exceedingly perilous. If he circulated his heavenly light force, the slightest misstep could cause him to blow apart!
"The departing fire force is entwined around my heart; no wonder it's glowing like a crimson sun," Qin Ming muttered to himself. At first, he had assumed it was merely the effect of his surging vitality.
As he breathed, golden rosy light surged in his lungs—that was actually the golden silkworm force undulating within.
Not long ago, Qin Ming had been quietly pleased by this, but now his expression turned utterly solemn. The Heluo force was wrapped around his kidneys; if it were to suddenly explode, the consequences would be unimaginable!
Qin Ming inspected himself inwardly. Looking across his body, a sea of multicolored glow met his inner eye, every kind of heavenly light force acting like warlords carving up territory, each proclaiming itself king of its own corner.
"You dare rebel on me!" Anger flared in his liver, yet his expression shifted abruptly and he hastily swallowed his temper back down—for the Yimu force was tangled around his liver.
It could nourish the body, true enough, but if he lost his temper, wood feeding fire would cause the Yimu force and the departing fire force to collide, potentially setting off a massive flesh-and-blood firecracker in an instant.
He forced himself to calm down. He couldn't get angry, nor could he rashly channel his heavenly light force for now; he had to resolve this gravely perilous issue at once.
According to lore regarding the silk book method, his current state seemed to have reached a terminal stage, beyond cure! For his true arts had scattered!
Once someone fell to this point, salvation was nearly impossible; everything depended on carrying the burden purely with one's own grit.
Qin Ming returned to the small courtyard and sat down on a large bluestone slab. He had no leisure to think about that kindly old woman or the prematurely mature-looking youth, Wu Yaozu.
Amidst the ruins, this sole courtyard was small and rather dilapidated, yet it brought peace to the soul. That old hen strutted leisurely, pacing just outside the courtyard gate.
In the vegetable patch, a few verdant cucumbers actually gave off a faint glow, eggplants were brushed with a wisp of purple mist, and strawberries gleamed with crimson light... all appearing like spiritual produce.
Qin Ming calmed his mind and began circulating the silk book method. Having practiced it for over a decade, it was more natural than breathing, flowing through his flesh and blood like a golden river.
Regardless of the difficulty, he decided to first dissolve and merge all the heavenly light forces before tackling the root cause of the affliction. Otherwise, leaving them scattered like this was simply too dangerous.
A burst of scarlet glow suddenly surged from his heart, blazing as though alight—the departing fire force had reared up. "Subdue!" Qin Ming barked coldly.
In the end, the silk book method brought it to heel, assimilating it once more.
This allowed him to exhale a long breath. He had successfully defused one major bomb!
As time flowed on, he subdued the golden silkworm force, gentle force, jingang force, Overlord force, and others in succession.
His brow furrowed slightly and sweat beaded on his face, for these heavenly light forces were far more wild and unyielding than before; even after being merged, they seemed to retain their untamed ferocity.
For instance, the departing fire force had attempted to break free multiple times.
No wonder it was said that once true arts scattered, recovery was nigh impossible.
Even with natural talent as formidable as his, it grew increasingly arduous. After spending the better half of a day, he had only re-merged less than half of his heavenly light forces. Unbeknownst to him, the sky had turned pitch-black.
Qin Ming discovered in astonishment that the moon had vanished, leaving the world as black as ink.
He realized he knew next to nothing about this place. When the moon was out, it seemed to be daytime; only when it vanished did true night arrive.
Drenched in sweat, just as he laboriously unified one of the hardest nuts to crack among the five miraculous arts—the Wuji force—he suddenly heard bustling, lively sounds.
Qin Ming rose and stepped outside the courtyard gate, only to freeze on the spot. Before his eyes, dazzling lanterns shone brightly; this was a bustling, prosperous town.
Had he seen a ghost?!
When the moon was up, what he saw in the "daytime" was rubble strewn everywhere, shattered walls, a scene of total ruin. How could it now be so bustling, brimming with the warmth of a thriving throng?
Lights glowed in every house, and crowds flowed through the streets. There were top-tier beasts like the Suanni, people beyond the mundane world clad in feather robes, and even "Giant Spirit Gods" towering nearly ten meters tall.
This was definitely no ordinary town; otherwise, how could one encounter so many living beings walking entirely different paths?
An elder with a head of golden hair rode past on a four-tusked white elephant down the brightly lit street, flashing a grin at Qin Ming.
"Now that night has fallen, do mortals, ghosts, and gods all wander out?" Qin Ming stood transfixed. This place was utterly bizarre.
Then he spotted a youth whose body held pure yang conscious spiritual light—quite an impressive feat. Next, he saw a Moon Insect emerge in the night sky, acting as a lantern to illuminate the entire town.
Around a street corner walked a silver-haired young woman. Divine wisdom overflowed from her body like layered halos of divinity. One glance was enough to tell she was extraordinary. She glanced his way.
Qin Ming shut the courtyard gate. He couldn't quite fathom whether these ruins were possessed by evil or if a bizarre town had genuinely descended with the arrival of the night mist.
Standing in the courtyard, he discovered the entire compound was emitting a faint golden light, appearing remarkably sacred, shutting out the bustling clamor of the street.
Qin Ming resumed subduing the heavenly light forces with the silk book method, stopping only when exhaustion completely overwhelmed him. It was already late, and neither the kindly old woman nor the youth Wu Yaozu had appeared.
Qin Ming decided to solve his food problem himself. In the modest kitchen, there were all sorts of seasonings, plenty of dried meat, and a kind of five-colored mushroom.
"Though that bowl of mushroom soup sent me into hallucinations, it didn't do me any harm, and it tasted exceedingly fresh."
Not long after, having eaten and drunk his fill, Qin Ming stepped out of the kitchen, only to find the entire world had transformed once more—beyond his humble lodge turning into jade pavilions and jeweled halls:
He leaned over the courtyard wall and gazed outside. Where was any small town!
What met his eyes was distinctly a colossal city: grand heavenly palaces, divine towers built of pure white jade, and ancient golden halls, all exuding a sacred aura.
Moreover, faint white mist drifted through the city; it looked like nothing less than an immortal citadel.
Crowds moved through the streets just the same, with even more beings: Giant Spirit Gods dozens of meters tall strolling along, six-tusked white elephants appearing, and Golden-Winged Pengs sweeping across the sky, shedding dazzling golden light.
Head spinning, Qin Ming quickly climbed down from the wall, entered the exquisitely painted, resplendent room before him, and collapsed onto a grand bed wafting with purple qi, falling fast asleep.
The next day, when he woke and pushed open the courtyard gate, the scene remained desolate: gentle moonlight, insect songs weaving together, and rubble strewn across the ground.
"I must have fallen into a Peril!" Qin Ming deduced. The bizarre phenomena he had witnessed far exceeded his expectations.
Perils were inherently beyond understanding; no matter how strange things were, it was only natural! "Merge the arts!"
For three straight days, Qin Ming wore himself out physically and mentally. Repeatedly suppressing them with the silk book method, he finally quelled the rebellion and unified all his force arts once more.
At "dusk," just before the moon was about to vanish, the stockily built, sturdy Wu Yaozu appeared, a look of shock on his face as he blurted, "You didn't blow apart?"
Hearing those words, Qin Ming felt completely unsettled, forgetting for a moment to even ask whether the youth was a living person or a ghost.
From those words alone, he understood everything: this "old teenager" had known that because he practiced the silk book method his body was about to explode, and had run off in advance out of fear of getting caught in the blast!
"How strange. My grandmother said your illness had entered your vitals and you probably wouldn't survive three days. You're actually fine?" He was utterly astonished.
For he saw Qin Ming practicing fist techniques, his heavenly light force surging and illuminating the entire courtyard. Someone on the verge of detonating would never dare unleash such power.
"Are you actually a living person or a dead man?" Qin Ming looked at him.
"I'm alive!" With his face covered in full whiskers and beard, Wu Yaozu grew slightly anxious—how could he say such a thing about him?
Qin Ming looked at him and truly sensed his vigorous blood qi, as well as an intense "rainbow light" within his flesh and blood. He was indeed no dead man.
He asked, "What's the deal with the ruins outside? Why is it so lively at night, with all sorts of creatures appearing who all seem extraordinary? Are ghosts and gods wandering through the night?"
Wu Yaozu said, "My grandmother said those people are actually real. They enter through dreams and descend upon the town along with the night mist."
Qin Ming wondered aloud, "Aren't the ruins outside just rubble? Does it restore itself at night?"
"This is a bizarre town on the fringes of the Fourth Peril. According to outsiders, isn't any strangeness in a Peril only normal? Actually... I don't really understand it either!" In the end, the mature-looking youth shook his head.
"The Fourth Peril near Kunjun?" Qin Ming paused in surprise. Weren't there only three Perils?
Wu Yaozu nodded. "Right. It was once the Fourth Peril, but it was breached and shattered. Only a few 'remnants' of the Peril remain, isolated from the outside world. It's probably been forgotten by everyone."
Qin Ming fell into thought. This land of Kunjun was truly astonishing, fully worthy of being a legendary realm; there were actually more than three Perils!
Wu Yaozu said, "Too bad you're on the Newborn path. At this stage, your consciousness can't leave your body. Otherwise, I'd take you into town for a stroll at night. It's bustling and fascinating—you can see all kinds of creatures."
"I should be able to go in!" Qin Ming said, eager to learn about this place.
"Mmm, let's wait until you meet my grandmother tomorrow before discussing it." Wu Yaozu departed without lingering.
Afterward, Qin Ming pondered and studied intently how to thoroughly resolve the issues with the silk book method, and began making attempts. That night, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled within the small courtyard, and wild winds even howled.
The next day, Wu Yaozu appeared and said in surprise, "You seem to be in even better shape."
Qin Ming smiled and nodded, following him forward into a mountain forest. Then, he saw a stone mountain carved entirely into a colossal statue. Looking solemn, he turned to Wu Yaozu. This was his grandmother?!
This old woman carved out of the rocky mountain looked exactly as she had when he first met her: gentle and kindly.
"No need for surprise. This is merely my residual form. I died many years ago, but a wisp of pure yang consciousness refused to perish because I could not let go of my worry for my grandson. Thus, I wander here like a solitary ghost."
Carved from the mountain itself, the stone statue did not move, yet a voice emanated from it. Qin Ming turned back to look at Wu Yaozu. This really was an "old teenager"!
As if knowing his thoughts, the old woman said, "Yaozu was indeed born sixteen years ago from a stone egg; he is of a similar age to you." She continued, "You are quite extraordinary. Practicing that scripture, you did not die even when your true arts scattered, and you could even comb through them and bring them back together. Your talent is truly supreme, exceeding even that old fellow's back in the day!"
"Senior, are you referring to..." Qin Ming asked.
"One of the earliest people to practice this scripture," the colossal stone statue informed him.
A yearning rose in Qin Ming. His family's ancestral silk book was possessed by the Cui clan, who refused to return it. If he could obtain the legacy of a founder-level figure here, that would be wonderful!
In fact, the old woman's next words were even better than he had anticipated: there really was a portion of the scripture from the silk book here, and one that had been refined.
"It will be difficult to get your hands on, because it lies within a divine temple," the stone statue earnestly informed him.
Clearly, the old woman had a favor to ask of him, but she did not elaborate this time, wanting first to see if he could resolve his own latent danger; otherwise, there was no telling when he might blow apart again.
On the way back, Wu Yaozu told Qin Ming that the scripture was likely inside the divine temple at the end of the bizarre town.
Night fell.
He stood with Qin Ming at the courtyard gate, gazing toward the edge of town, where a cluster of ancient buildings was slowly emerging amidst dense fog.
"The old fellow who practiced your scripture once debated the Dao with the master of the divine temple for three days and four nights," Wu Yaozu said. However, that area was hard to approach and exceedingly dangerous.
"Could that divine temple also be emerging along with the dreams?" Qin Ming asked.
"Yes. Rarely does anyone dare enter. There are no living people left in that temple; it's terrifying." Wu Yaozu nodded.
Chapter 177