Just as the situation was about to spiral out of control, a halo descended from the void and landed right around a certain part that had raised the banner of rebellion high.
This halo possessed immense might to subdue demons and vanquish monsters, along with the power to suppress the primeval spirit and befuddle the mind. Once encircled by this ring of light, that part's newly awakened past-life wisdom vanished completely, and the immortal art it had just learned was wiped entirely from memory.
Wei Yuan finally breathed a sigh of relief, but then immediately remembered something. The dharmic power within that ring of light felt remarkably familiar—something he had faced regularly over the past ten years. It was Eldest Senior Sister's technique.
She... saw everything?
For a moment, Wei Yuan wanted nothing more than to smash his head into Jade Mountain and die. Yet a faint voice deep inside him argued stubbornly, "What's the big deal? It's not like she hasn't seen it like this before... and more than once..."
Fortunately, that voice was finally suppressed. Wei Yuan took a deep breath, feeling that even facing the Shamans' army of over a hundred thousand hadn't made him this nervous. A blessing in disguise—thankfully it was Eldest Senior Sister. If it had been Master...
At this moment, Wei Yuan could only wait for the spirituality in each part of his body to fade before regaining control. The process would still take a little time, so Wei Yuan planned to take stock of his harvest.
He looked up and saw the young girl.
At this moment, the girl stood motionless with her back to Wei Yuan, as if nothing had happened. But after absorbing all of Wei Yuan's otherworldly fortune, her body had gained slightly richer detail, making her look more like a human being than a statue.
Unlike the other faceless warriors, the Yin-Yang Dao Foundation had nothing covering her body. Previously, apart from her face, she had looked completely seamless all over; but after being activated this time, she had gained details after all.
Details were the devil.
Hands clasped behind his back, Wei Yuan strolled idly about, looking around, and came before the young girl.
Then Wei Yuan grew pensive. If she ever had to be deployed again in the future, he would probably need to prepare some clothes. But unless it was a matter of life and death, Wei Yuan would never dare let her see the light of day. If the Shamans noticed her, it would spell catastrophic disaster.
Moreover, activating the Yin-Yang Dao Foundation once had consumed eighteen strands of advanced otherworldly fortune in a single breath, and even that hadn't been enough. Wei Yuan vaguely sensed that for her to unleash that sword strike that stunned heaven, earth, and time, she had probably used far more than eighteen strands of fortune—the rest had likely been borrowed from the shadow in the moon.
Such an expensive strike made Wei Yuan's heart ache; he felt his own life wasn't worth causing such a massive commotion.
Wei Yuan kept walking, passing in front of the young girl and circling over to the Red Lotus Bodhi. The area around the bodhi tree was now covered in fine, fertile soil; stepping close made his mind clear and bright, his thoughts instantly growing far more lucid.
Wei Yuan suddenly realized: the Yin-Yang Dao Foundation was essentially his now, so why was he sneaking peeks? Why couldn't he look openly and uprightly, looking over and over again?
Then again, Yin-Yang was truly supreme under heaven; in terms of physique and appearance alone, she was on par with Consort Yuan.
Wei Yuan immediately caught himself indulging in pointless nonsense again. It seemed the rebel outside had left quite a pernicious poison behind, which still needed further purging.
Meanwhile, within another minor world, Ji Liuli and Zhang Sheng stood side by side. The smile on Ji Liuli's face was exceedingly strange. She twirled a ring of light on her fingertip, identical to the one that had ensnared Wei Yuan.
Ji Liuli praised, "Injured like that and still having such thoughts—he really is young..."
Zhang Sheng stood with hands behind his back and said suddenly, "Our disciple has grown up."
At this moment, Zhang Sheng's silhouette actually looked somewhat desolate and forlorn.
Ji Liuli said, "Isn't it good that he's grown up..."
Before she could finish, a tear suddenly opened in the void beside them, followed by an eruption of endless blade light as Feng Tingyu leaped out from the fissure. Seeing Ji Liuli and Zhang Sheng, she called out a greeting, checked her bearings, and raised her eight-foot blade once more.
Zhang Sheng's expression shifted slightly. The might of this blade strike was enough to sunder the void; if it fell, judging by its trajectory, it would lead straight to the minor world Wei Yuan was in.
Feng Tingyu slashed through the void and dove inside. But behind her, a flawless hand appeared, grabbed the scruff of her neck, and lifted her up.
Feng Tingyu kicked her legs several times in the empty air, yet she remained suspended in place while the spatial rift in front of her snapped shut.
Zhang Sheng released his grip, and Feng Tingyu dropped to the ground.
She turned around, bewildered. "What are you doing? I'm going to save Wei Yuan!"
Suppressing her laughter, Ji Liuli said with utmost solemnity, "You're going the wrong way. That place isn't suitable for children right now."
Feng Tingyu looked at Zhang Sheng, then at Ji Liuli, seemingly understanding something. But clearly unreconciled, she stared at Ji Liuli, did a few chest-expansion stretches, and declared, "Aside from my age, nothing else about me is small! Watch your words next time!"
Ji Liuli's smile froze on her face.
With a swipe of her long blade, Feng Tingyu cleaved the void and left for another minor world.
Ji Liuli's expression turned gloomy, and she said suddenly, "That girl harbors ill intentions; we need to be careful. Humph! Just wait until I get the chance—I'll be sure to give her a proper lesson on her patriarch's behalf!"
Still standing with his hands behind his back, Zhang Sheng remarked leisurely, "She's from the Hall of the Bright King. What bad intentions could she possibly have?"
By this time, Wei Yuan had finally returned to his physical body. It felt remarkably welcoming, like reuniting after a long separation. The only drawback was a lingering trace of chill in his lower body—the aftereffect of that ring of light. While the chill calmed the mind and settled the spirit, it also left the rebel thoroughly subdued, unfit to meet Consort Yuan again for now.
The chill lingered faintly and incessantly; who knew when it would dissipate.
Wei Yuan's wounds had mostly closed up, showing nothing unusual from the outside, but things remained quite lively within his body. After the spirituality in each part faded, some fragments had inevitably wandered to the wrong places, and a few had even grown into incorrect positions.
Thus, those that had grown in the wrong spots had to tear themselves free from their current positions and make their way back to where they belonged.
Other fragments were clearly in the wrong place yet refused to admit it, stubbornly unwilling to return to their rightful territory. The blood showed no mercy, killing those fragments outright and flushing them out as waste to the appropriate organs.
Inside Wei Yuan's body, it felt as though countless ants were crawling and biting—itchy, painful, and indescribably miserable.
Only now did Wei Yuan have the time to reflect on the recent battle, and the more he thought about it, the more amiss it seemed. The cloth-robed swordsman's dharma idol had been just a step shy of perfection; moreover, he had cast aside all secondary techniques to focus all essence into a single sword, possessing terrifying power far more dreadful than many perfected dharma idols.
In his hands, the Sword of Ten Thousand Generations and Autumns had returned to simplicity and raw essence—great craft concealing artifice. Forget Dao Foundation cultivators, even an ordinary dharma idol cultivator likely couldn't survive a single strike, and would perish within three.
How could someone like that, practically destined to become a True Monarch, be abandoned within this grotto-heaven fragment? Though the cloth-robed swordsman's state had been somewhat bizarre, showing no sign of true sapience, even if he were merely an array spirit guarding a formation, he would still be a priceless treasure—there was no way he would just be discarded in a grotto-heaven fragment.
Looking across, Wei Yuan saw the greatsword still planted in the white jade plaza, beside which lay the detached hilt. He walked over, but after taking only two steps, he had to stop. Several sections of his intestines were currently missing and hadn't fully reconnected; any large movement tore them open anew.
Clutching his lower abdomen, Wei Yuan slowly shuffled over to the greatsword. The sword's blade was now dim and lusterless, showing no sharp edge—it was completely unsharpened.
Yet the image of the cloth-robed swordsman flicking the blade with a finger and rattling countless flying swords out of the sky remained etched in Wei Yuan's mind. Emulating the swordsman, he extended a finger and flicked the blade, only to produce not a sound.
Wei Yuan grunted, pretended nothing had happened, and picked up the hilt to examine it closely.
The hilt was made of wood wrapped with the sinew of an unknown spirit beast; it felt rough and hard to the touch, like gripping a stone. When Wei Yuan probed the hilt with his divine sense, he entered a vast, boundless expanse, where the cloth-robed swordsman stood holding his sword, saying to Wei Yuan: "...You have finally arrived."
Chapter 283