Pijia Maha’s figure shrank back into the iridescent clouds, withdrawing his layered, multifarious gazes into their depths. Only his tumbling, resonant voice echoed outward: “Ziyun, what is the meaning of this?!”
When Pijia Maha descended into the mortal realm, he had deliberately brushed the archer with his rainbow light. How could a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator possibly resist the brilliance that ushered souls into the Dharma Realm? His mind should have been completely unhinged!
Had he not found the archer so exceptionally enticing, that single brush would have reduced Li Xuanfeng to ashes. He had intentionally held back his power, thinking that even if he could not subjugate the man himself, he could leave him as karmic fortune for Tang Shedu after his ascension as a Lianmin, alongside various other careful arrangements. Only for those reasons had he spared his life. The radiant light had been measured to perfection—it should have moved Li Xuanfeng to tears of devout gratitude, planting a seed within his heart that would sprout in days to come.
How could he have anticipated this outcome?
Li Xuanfeng’s state was completely contrary to his calculations and deductions. Shock and suspicion surged through Pijia Maha’s mind like a tempestuous tide. The next moment, as the rainbow clouds churned, a sudden thought struck him: Could Real Person Zipei have intervened in advance?
Pijia Maha banished the notion without hesitation. Though differences existed among Purple Mansion cultivators, and Real Person Zipei cultivated secret arts of an Immortal Mansion and wielded first-rate spiritual artifacts, all of those were intended for head-on battle. In matters of calculation, scheming, and divination, three Zipeis combined could not match him. Had Zipei stepped in to shield Li Xuanfeng or secretly assisted him, it could never have escaped Pijia’s eyes, nor could the omens have repeatedly pointed to the unalterable result of Li Xuanfeng falling unconscious and incapable of action.
Pijia Maha’s gaze sank deep into the clouds as the tangled threads in his mind swiftly unraveled. Ziyun’s seemingly playful wager earlier, appearing as though death were at hand, was merely a diversion. Without exchanging a single word, that woman had already forged a tacit pact with two Mahas to plot against him!
Jinlian and Zhelu!
However fiercely Jinlian and Zhelu had previously vied with him for Tang Shedu, they were now just as unwilling to let Tang Shedu fall into his hands. Pijia Maha was not surprised by this. What truly exceeded his expectations was Real Person Ziyun’s attitude.
To conceal everything so flawlessly and dupe a Maha like him, only another Maha could have acted. And Jinlian and Zhelu, having traveled south together with him, possessed more than enough combined might to distort his divinations!
Yuansu, Yuanxiu, Qiushui, Tiantong—these Real Persons had always prided themselves on their lofty purity, refusing to compromise with the Shakya path... Yet now they had actually reached a secret understanding with Jinlian and Zhelu!
“After all, Pijia is still young. Compared to those two old bald donkeys, Jinlian and Zhelu, he lacks seasoning. Caught off guard, he was easily schemed against.”
His thoughts flickered through the Great Void for an instant, laying bare the whole truth.
“I overlooked only one thing—the Murong En Tianting is far more critical than I imagined! Jinlian and Zhelu realized it only after the fact, and by then, they could no longer turn back.”
Since Pijia Maha had agreed to yield the Murong En Tianting, this demon was destined to be an abandoned pawn.
“Bald donkey.”
Pijia Maha’s voice carried no anger, only a chilling detachment that echoed through the air: “For all of you fellow Daoists to take such pains to scheme against me, it must be because the Murong En Tianting is important enough... You truly live up to the name of the Zijin Demonic Path. Leaving this item in my hands and feigning indifference for a hundred years—you have displayed the true demeanor of the demonic path to the utmost.”
“Real Person, suit yourself.”
The iridescent clouds in the sky rolled backward, receding bit by bit into the Great Void until they vanished. The azure rain began to grow ethereal. Li Xuanfeng’s hazy vision gradually cleared, and he saw two streaks of radiant light descend.
Amid the shifting light and dark of the Great Void, Yuanxiu emerged with his stern, rigid old countenance. His robes and crown were, as always, impeccably neat and orderly, with a faint azure sheen flowing across his garments. Though this Real Person was ostensibly the youngest among them, he never practiced youth-preserving arts, making him appear far older than his peers.
The other was naturally Real Person Qiushui of the Jinyu Sect. The female cultivator flicked her sleeve, casting a shower of golden light that curbed Li Xuanfeng’s wounds before she spoke.
As the three Real Persons conversed, the azure light withdrew entirely into the seal. The Heavenly Pool beneath their feet faded away, once again revealing Chengshui Tomb shrouded in thick demonic qi.
Li Xuanfeng used his newly stabilized magic power to ride the wind and hold his ground. Beneath him lay a swamp of clear, glistening rainwater, while demonic qi rolled through the air, with no sign of the other Qingchi cultivators.
At that moment, the demon cultivator flew up from Chengshui Tomb below. Earlier, while Li Xuanfeng and Tang Shedu had clashed within the seal, this demon had naturally turned to slaughter the Qingchi cultivators. With his prowess, he had easily routed the group and was currently riding high on his triumph, exuding tremendous arrogance.
Although he did not know what had transpired within the seal, Pijia Maha’s rainbow light had just receded, and Tang Shedu had nine chances out of ten already ascended into the Dharma Realm. Since Li Xuanfeng had escaped with his life, the demon assumed he was already one of their own now.
He saw Li Xuanfeng’s armor dimmed, his aura feeble, his face pale, and his magic power reduced to less than a tenth, and instantly burst into laughter: “Li Xuanfeng! Now what will you do?!”
Though Li Xuanfeng had formed his own deductions, he remained cautious, merely riding the wind to watch from a distance. Seeing that the demon seemed completely oblivious to the three Real Persons standing right before him, Li Xuanfeng slightly lowered his head without answering, knowing that this demon was already finished.
Li Xuanfeng watched clearly as the demon suddenly seemed to hear something, tilting his head as if listening intently, while a patch of reddish-gray light flared behind his head.
Sure enough, Real Person Yuanxiu cast a glance at him, nodding as he said, “Demon, come here. Will you hand it over yourself, or should this Real Person take it in person?”
The demon had already assumed human form. His thick brows twitched, his eyes went round as saucers, his lips pressed tightly together, and he scrambled forward on hands and knees.
Under the silent gazes of the three Real Persons, the demon cultivator solemnly hitched up his robes, knelt, and made a deep kowtow. Forming his hand into a blade, he measured two strokes against his chest, plunged his hand inside, rummaged around, and pulled out a pitch-black heart.
Demonic qi surged violently from the heart. He clutched it firmly as if it did not belong to him at all, hurriedly drew a dagger from his waist, raised it high, and drove the blade hard into the heart.
Without hesitation, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he took his own life.
Having carved out his heart, a shred of consciousness still lingered within him. Seizing the remaining moments, he reached two fingers into the wound to extract a pearl-sized azure bead, wiped the demonic qi clean, and respectfully offered it up with both hands while prostrating himself.
Real Person Ziyun lightly hooked her finger, and the Murong En Tianting flew into her hand. She raised it and examined it closely, saying softly, “After a hundred years, the Murong En Tianting is finally back in our hands.”
Beside her, the demon’s body had already begun to collapse. Yet, with a face full of reverence, he remained locked in his kneeling posture as billowing white mist cascaded from his flesh like a waterfall, pouring down from the sky.
None of the three Real Persons spared him a second glance, letting the dispersing demonic qi drift past their feather robes and jade boots, cloaking all of Chengshui Tomb in pitch-black gloom.
Thunder abruptly cracked across the sky, illuminating the surroundings with brilliant clarity. Above the demonic clouds stood three radiant lights. A demonic cultivator who had been rampantly arrogant just a quarter of an hour ago had died like a stray dog, in utter silence, without raising the slightest ripple.
Real Person Yuanxiu beckoned with his hand. The seal in Li Xuanfeng’s grasp leaped into the air and flew toward him. With a light flick of his finger, a streak of iridescent light popped out of the seal and returned to his hand.
Li Xuanfeng understood at once. When he had emerged from seclusion, this seal had just been repaired and was handed to him by Chi Zhiyan. A hand must have been played upon it long beforehand, all to lay a trap for this Maha.
Yuanxiu shook his hand with a trace of disgust, casually popping the iridescent light into oblivion. He withdrew his hand, and the seal drifted back down into Li Xuanfeng’s hands—neither a fraction lighter nor heavier, looking no different from before.
“Congratulations to Real Person Ziyun.” Real Person Qiushui smiled faintly and spoke softly.
Real Person Ziyun nodded, showing some warmth toward Qiushui, and said softly, “Real Person Qinzun has passed away...”
Qiushui smiled faintly and remarked gently, “We merely acted in accordance with the tide.”
Suddenly, a gray wind arose in the sky, rustling through the air. Li Xuanfeng’s heart gave a slight jolt. Looking into the far distance, he saw the gray wind sweeping in from the east, flattening the surviving vegetation beneath his feet. He recognized it as the portent of a Purple Mansion cultivator’s demise.
“What has fallen is the Daning Palace.”
***
Deep within Chengshui Tomb, the earth veins shifted unceasingly, and subterranean water veins surged forth. Moisture clung to the walls of the dark abyss cavern as rainwater dripped ceaselessly from above, pouring relentlessly into the pitch-black depths of the earth.
Li Xizhi took a medicinal pill and regulated his breathing for a while, his complexion improving considerably. Li Qinghong and Li Quantao were both in poor condition, and the elderly Qi Wangxuan also wore an unsightly grimace.
This place lay at the periphery of Chengshui Tomb. Li Quantao had fought his way through the demonic qi and fled all the way to this chasm before finally catching his breath.
Years ago, Li Qinghong had searched for thunder here and rented a cave dwelling from a local family, situated right within this chasm. When the group fled to this area, they sought out this cave dwelling to take shelter.
Li Quantao closed his eyes. Kongheng practiced an ancient Shakya art; although his offensive methods were weak, preserving his life amid the chaos would not be a problem. Li Wushao had a far tougher time; it was unknown whether he could escape.
High in the sky, none of them knew who had won between Li Xuanfeng and Tang Shedu. But the demon cultivator had ridden down on demonic winds to ambush them. The few cultivators who were already struggling desperately could not withstand his sneak attack, suffering a catastrophic defeat and scattering in all directions to flee for their lives.
Tang Shedu had provided the demonic cultivators with the exact disposition of the allied forces. Over a dozen Foundation Establishment cultivators were picked off one by one, nearly completely annihilated. The demonic reinforcements had surrounded several cultivators, including Lin Qiu, Lan Ying, and Zhuang Cheng.
Tang Shedu’s betrayal might have been part of the Purple Mansion masters’ calculations, and the extent of their strategic losses remained unknown, but it had dealt a devastating blow to the cultivators on the ground.
As they fled southward, demonic cultivators were everywhere, their numbers multiplying the more they fought. They had no choice but to take refuge here, yet they had not seen a single soldier under Yu Su.
“Have any of you seen Yu Su bring his troops over?”
Li Xizhi pointed toward the south. Qi Wangxuan stood up, walked to the entrance of the cave, and glimpsed billowing demonic smoke rising from distant Yanshan Pass as well. Sweeping his sleeve, he stepped back inside and said in a hoarse, aged tone: “I fear that with Tang Shedu leaking the secrets, Yu Su fell into an ambush on the way, or simply defected with him... In short, that contingent has most likely scattered.”
In Qingchi’s original plan, Li Xuanfeng and Tang Shedu were to pincer and crush the demonic cultivators, while Yu Su would march north along the sole southern route leading out of Chengshui Tomb, intercepting the retreating enemies and providing support to both sides.
“Who knows how many are still alive...”
Li Xizhi had set out to rescue Li Qinghong, so he had avoided being trapped in the encirclement and had not encountered the main demonic force. Leading several people to break out of the siege was already a stroke of luck; how could they possibly turn back?
She did not doubt that Tang Shedu was no match for Li Xuanfeng. Rather, she worried that after Li Xuanfeng struck him down, he might linger and be besieged by the hordes of demons. But in their current state, even if they returned to reinforce him, they would likely only be throwing more lives away.
A deep sigh escaped Qi Wangxuan’s throat. His aged face was a mixture of fury and sorrow as he asked hoarsely, “What on earth are the Real Persons thinking?”
Qi Wangxuan spoke in a low, gravelly voice. In truth, there was no need for him to say it; everyone understood in their hearts.
Yet Li Qinghong slowly opened her eyes and said softly, “Xizhi guessed correctly.”
Qi Wangxuan sneered bitterly. “What is there to think about? If so many people of Jiangnan died, the Purple Mansion Real Persons must have traded with the Shakya demons for enough benefits to advance their own cultivation—perhaps some spiritual artifact, a blessed grotto-heaven, or some profound technique! A hundred years from now, Qingchi will belong to their direct lineages. None of us belong to their Purple Mansion lineages! In the end, we are but a pile of ashes—what use is there in keeping us around? Why else do you think we suffered such a terrible loss? Were the Purple Mansion masters just watching idly? When lives are spent, as long as it’s not their direct lineage dying, is there anything they wouldn’t do?”
This old man was nearly three hundred years old and had witnessed far too much. His words sent chills down their spines. The cave fell into a sudden, heavy silence.
Li Qinghong’s willow-leaf brows raised slightly as she spoke coldly, voicing only a few words: “If Yanshan Pass is in peril, won’t heading south be a dead end for us? If Yanshan Pass is captured, our only option is to follow the river and circle all the way around to Baixiang Valley. There’s no telling how many demonic cultivators lie along that path.”
“Baixiang Valley may not be safe either!”
“Do you still remember that the Murong family was supposed to have two people? Yet we only saw one... Where did the other one go?”
At those words, Li Quantao finally understood where the other Murong demonic cultivator who had long been missing had gone. After a brief silence, he abruptly realized that the roads to the south were already demonic soil in every direction, and said in a low voice: “It’s Jinlian and Zhelu!”
Chapter 575