To outsiders, it only looked like the heavenly tribulation brushed past Feng Qingyun’s shoulder like a caress, unwilling to harm him in the slightest. But only Feng Qingyun himself could feel it: a steady stream of spiritual energy flowing from the lightning into his Dantian, just like the first time they met, when that person used his blood as a medium to send demonic Qi into his body.
At last, Feng Qingyun couldn’t hold back. He closed his eyes, gripping the Linshuang Sword tightly, his emotions surging to an unprecedented intensity.
Yet amidst the world-shaking lightning, only he still had the luxury to drown in such feelings.
The remaining eight or nine immortals, gripped by terror, scattered in panic, desperately throwing out every last immortal artifact they possessed to fend off the thunder. The other cultivators hesitated, not daring to step forward, afraid of becoming collateral damage like the Mistress of the Underworld.
As for the descended immortals, they were too busy saving themselves. The path to the heavens lay wide open; by all logic, this should have been the perfect opportunity to ascend.
But of the remaining powerful cultivators…
Long Yin had already returned to Heaven. Mu Hanyang was dead. The Mistress of the Underworld, once at half-step ascension like Feng Qingyun, had her right arm severed by an immortal, and her cultivation was damaged; her chance at ascension was gone for now. The fox Patriarch was in a similar state, with one of his nine tails severed and his realm weakened.
Feng Qingyun himself was deliberately suppressing his ascension, and Mu Tingwan, the only one still capable, chose, as he did, to suppress her realm and stay behind to heal others.
Thus, though the path to heaven stood open, not a single person ascended. A strange and unprecedented sight.
Meanwhile, beyond this world, no more immortals descended.
The contrast with the ancient war Feng Qingyun had seen in Long Yin’s memories and its overwhelming brutality was stark. Clearly, something had gone wrong in the Heavenly Realm. And as if to confirm his suspicion, when the thunder gradually dissipated, the battered immortals froze for a moment, then suddenly realized something, their faces lighting up with joy:
“The Heavenly Dao’s consciousness is dissipating!”
The others snapped back to their senses and looked up; indeed, the lightning had vanished.
They exchanged glances, elated.
Just moments ago, they had been fleeing in panic. Now, their expressions shifted instantly, and they turned to mock Feng Qingyun: “So this is the wrath of the Heavenly Dao?! Today it rages for you, tomorrow it fades away. What difference is there from nothing?”
The words struck directly at Feng Qingyun’s deepest fear. He let out a cold laugh and drew his sword, saying, “What happens tomorrow is none of your concern. Today, this will be your burial ground.”
“Such arrogance,” the immortals sneered. “Three thousand immortals dwell above the heavens. Without the Heavenly Dao’s protection, killing juniors like you is effortless.”
They moved to attack again, but after the tribulation, they were drained. Feng Qingyun, by contrast, had been fully restored. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and met them head-on, his sword rising and blocking three immortal artifacts in a single stroke.
The other cultivators snapped out of their shock and rushed forward, activating their own artifacts, and the battle erupted instantly. The sky filled with streaks of light as metal clashed, while killing intent roared through heaven and earth.
They fought until dusk.
Even after Feng Qingyun slew two immortals in succession, no one else descended from the heavenly path. The immortals grew increasingly alarmed, and their earlier confidence turned into unease.
They had descended in secret, already suppressed by the world’s Heavenly Dao. If this dragged on, they would end up like the fallen immortals of old.
One immortal wielding a whisk clearly wavered. His formation broke, and Feng Qingyun seized the chance, cutting him down with a single strike. Another immortal, watching his companion split in two, shouted in fury: “Where are those rogue immortals from Jinshui?! Why haven’t they come?! Have they betrayed us?!”
The unspoken fear was finally voiced. The face of a man holding a Taiji divination disk darkened as he bit his tongue, spitting blood onto the disk and closing his eyes to divine. The others stepped forward, gritting their teeth, shielding him at all costs.
Feng Qingyun narrowed his eyes slightly, subtly easing his offense. He, too, wanted to know what had happened in the Heavenly Realm.
Moments later, the diviner suddenly coughed up blood, then looked up in horror:
“No… it’s not betrayal… Tong Tian… he hasn’t died…”
“What did you say?!”
“Tong Tian ascended once more!”
Panic exploded among them, and one immortal snapped, “Ascended where?! Back from death?!”
Then, the realization hit. If the rogue immortals hadn’t descended… then they had likely already been captured, or killed. And if they returned now… Punishment would be severe. But Tong Tian… that madman was infamous for being colder than the law itself!
Heavenly rules meant nothing to him!
In an instant, the remaining six immortals made a decision.
Run!
They scattered at blinding speed. Before most cultivators could react, they had already fled thousands of li, and only a few gave chase. Feng Qingyun didn’t fully understand what happened, but the moment he heard the name Tong Tian, he grasped part of the truth.
The Heavenly Dao had returned; therefore, the righteous souls it once sheltered must also return. Whether Tong Tian was acting alone or the entire Huangquan clan ascended with him, it didn’t matter. What was important was that the remaining immortals had likely been intercepted.
This was the best news in days.
And if they killed these remaining six, everything would end.
Long Yin’s sacrifice would not be in vain.
Suppressing the tremor in his heart, Feng Qingyun raised his voice, sending it across heaven and earth:
“The immortals above have all been slain by Ancestor Tong Tian! Only these six remain! Kill them, and peace will return! Ascension will be unblocked!”
The world trembled.
Fear of the unknown was the greatest terror, but when hope appeared, people could unleash unimaginable strength. The Mistress of the Underworld’s eyes lit up. Kill them, and the path to immortality would be hers.
No one would ever control her fate again.
Without hesitation, she took out a pulsing mass of black blood and swallowed it. Her aura surged, then she lunged forward, seizing the slowest immortal like a lioness and biting down on his neck.
A scream tore through the air as she ripped his throat apart. But in his final fury, the immortal self-destructed. The Mistress of the Underworld failed to evade in time, and half her body was blown apart. Yet with her cultivation at the rank of a supreme calamity, even with half her body destroyed, she did not die. She couldn’t die, nor could her realm even fall.
After all, the title “Corpse Ancestor” was no exaggeration.
However, seeing her weakened, four immortals hesitated and then turned, intending to finish her off. Feng Qingyun stepped in, sword flashing, blocking two at once.
The other two vanished, reappearing behind him.
In the next instant, eight fox tails swept in, forcefully binding the two immortals and relieving Feng Qingyun of the danger of being attacked from both front and back. But in terms of strength, Qing Luo could only be considered the third strongest among the ancestral demonic clans. Now, having already lost one tail and trying to restrain two immortals at once, his face visibly turned pale.
One of the immortals, even while bound within four of the fox tails, gritted his teeth and raised a hand. With a sudden motion, a sharp, gold-inlaid jade hairpin appeared before him.
Qing Luo’s expression changed several times, yet he dared not fully withdraw his tails. In the end, he abruptly pulled back one tail from each of the two immortals and crossed them before himself, planning to block the strike with just two tails.
The immortal sneered, clearly mocking his overestimation of himself, but in the next moment, the jade hairpin did not fly toward the prepared Qing Luo.
Instead, it curved midair and shot straight toward Feng Qingyun’s back!
With half her body blown apart, the Mistress of the Underworld had no time to react. Qing Luo’s heart trembled violently; his eyes split with fury, yet he was too late to act.
At the very brink…
A piercing sound tore through the air.
Nine snow-white fox tails, whiter even than Qing Luo’s, suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They pierced the incoming immortal artifact as if it were paper, then, without the slightest pause, twisted sharply and drove straight through the two immortals entangled beneath Qing Luo’s tails.
It all happened in an instant.
Before anyone could react, the two immortals were already impaled.
Feng Qingyun froze, then immediately turned to look at the newcomer. Qing Luo, however, was even more shocked than he was, shouting in disbelief:
“…Heavenly Fox?!”
“Tsk. Such rude little foxes,” the newcomer said lightly. “Did no one teach you to shout ‘Senior’ when you see me?!”
It was Tong Tian’s Dao companion, the Heavenly Fox Patriarch.
Qingqiu Yuan.
Meeting Feng Qingyun’s astonished gaze, he gave him a once-over and raised a brow.
“Little rose… you’re so beautiful. No wonder the Heavenly Dao can’t forget you.”
Feng Qingyun blocked an incoming strike with his sword, yet couldn’t help asking: “Since the Patriarch has regained his memories… do you know about Ancestor’s Tong Tian’s return?”
“Must you call him Ancestor?!” Qingqiu Yuan clicked his tongue. “I really can’t accept being paired with such an old ox…”
“As for his return… he ascended right from my bed in broad daylight. Of course I know. There’s no need for you to worry about the Heavenly Realm. Kill the remaining three immortal beasts here, and it’s over. He’ll handle everything above.”
With a wave of his hand, he added, “These two trash immortals, leave them to us. You go after the one who ran. If even one escapes, the consequences will be troublesome.” He spoke with the ease of someone experienced in hunting immortals, fully aware that failing to uproot the problem would only let it grow again. But then he paused, glancing toward the sky:
“Before ascending, Tong Tian told me… if you can settle everything before today ends, you might still get to see your beloved one last time.”
Feng Qingyun’s heart trembled.
There was no time to say more. Sword in hand, he turned and gave chase.
But the fleeing immortal seemed to possess some method of concealing his tracks. Feng Qingyun followed his aura through the heavens, only to abruptly lose it.
He stopped, gripping his sword, frowning at his surroundings.
He ran?
…No.
A faint sense of danger brushed against him, and Feng Qingyun tightened his grip, scanning the area… and in the next instant, something changed.
His hand suddenly felt light.
He looked up, but the Linshuang Sword was no longer in his grasp.
It now rested in the hand of another.
The immortal stood in midair, holding his sword, approaching leisurely, a mocking smile at the corner of his lips. He hadn’t been fleeing at all.
He had been luring Feng Qingyun away.
With a single glance, Feng Qingyun recognized the technique, likely the ancient method known as Stealing Heaven and Replacing the Sun. A secret art of the Thief Path, rumored to be capable, at its peak, of overturning heaven and earth itself.
But descending immortals were heavily restricted. The man hadn’t acted earlier, clearly because his range was limited, and had only dared to strike after isolating Feng Qingyun.
And yet, Feng Qingyun said nothing, simply looking at him coldly.
The immortal smiled, about to speak, but in the next instant, Feng Qingyun suddenly raised his hand. Though empty-handed, he cleaved out a world-shaking strike, and the immortal failed to evade in time. Half his body was split open by the blow. The Linshuang Sword slipped from his grasp, and Feng Qingyun seized it back in a single motion.
The immortal didn’t even care about the sword anymore as shock overwhelmed even his pain. After a long pause, he finally snapped back, roaring in fury: “Burning your realm into sword intent?! How is this any different from courting death?!”
To cultivators, one’s realm was essentially one’s lifespan.
Even immortals rarely treated it lightly.
Yet Feng Qingyun didn’t care in the slightest. He lowered his gaze to the recovered Linshuang Sword, as though seeing someone through it. Only after confirming that both hilt and blade were unharmed did he look up and say calmly: “What I do is no concern of a dying man.”
The immortal clenched his teeth. He understood now: even if he stole Feng Qingyun’s natal sword again, it would be useless.
The man was a mad flower demon who, after losing his mate, no longer cared for lifespan or realm. Even stripping him of all his treasures wouldn’t stop him from burning his own cultivation to cut his enemy down.
Feng Qingyun raised his sword.
The omen of death descended upon the immortal, making his whole body tremble. In that moment, he suddenly burst with desperate inspiration… He had sensed something in Feng Qingyun’s storage ring.
A living presence.
The immortal froze, then covered his split eye and smiled.
Feng Qingyun’s blade paused midair as a chill rose in his heart.
In the next instant, the immortal’s presence vanished once more.
“Little Sword Master,” his voice came from behind, “I advise you not to act rashly.”
Feng Qingyun spun, ready to strike, but when he saw what the man held, he froze. The immortal stood there, one eye bleeding, yet still smiling.
And in his hand, a trembling merfolk egg.
“Dignified fallen immortal, resorting to such despicable means!” Feng Qingyun’s expression changed drastically as he reached to snatch it back. “Give it back to me!”
The immortal laughed and stepped back, his gamble confirmed.
“Want it back? Fine, trade yourself for it! How about that?”
Feng Qingyun’s pupils shrank, and the immortal vanished again, reappearing at his side, leaning close to his ear: “If you were in my hands… do you think the Heavenly Dao would protect me?”
Feng Qingyun let out a cold laugh:
“Delusional.”
“That’s right,” the immortal didn’t get angry. “This humble one is indulging in wishful thinking,” he said with a smile. “After all, your precious Heavenly Dao can barely protect itself right now. How could it possibly spare the attention to protect you?”
He had clearly seen Feng Qingyun’s hesitation and deliberately pressed on his sore spot, continuing, “Its humanity is being erased bit by bit. As it returns to pure divinity, it has no room to care about anything else. Even the heavenly lightning is reduced to that pitiful trace… A dignified Heavenly Dao, brought to this state for the sake of a mere flower demon, truly pathetic.”
Feng Qingyun’s expression had already sunk to the depths, but the immortal continued, fearless:
“This plain-looking egg you treasure so much… what, do you intend to let it remember the Heavenly Dao, so you can use it to remind yourself not to forget him?”
“This is the only remaining bloodline of the merfolk,” Feng Qingyun finally said coldly. “Heaven cherishes all life. And yet you, an immortal, would use this as a threat; are you not afraid of divine retribution?”
Seeing his expression darken, the immortal laughed even more brazenly. “No need to pretend to be so selfless. Haven’t you been raising it all this time for your own purposes? What a pity, your Heavenly Dao loves you so much, yet you don’t even dare to remember him. You have to rely on something external…”
“What do you think would happen… if I were to crush it right now?”
“Bang,” he smiled faintly. “Like that.”
Feng Qingyun stared at him without blinking, his eyes as deep as an abyss, but his face revealed nothing. The immortal mistook it for forced composure and chuckled: “How about this, kill the remaining Golden Core cultivators for me, and I might consider returning this egg…”
But before he could finish, his body suddenly froze. As if stuck to something, he stiffened completely, unable to move. Feng Qingyun lowered his gaze in silence to the nearly invisible thread beside them.
Huimeng spider silk.
The king of poisons. Once touched, even immortals could not escape.
“What was it you just said, Immortal Lord?” a languid male voice drifted over. “Who did you want to kill? I didn’t quite catch that. Why don’t you repeat it?”
But the so-called Immortal Lord was already so paralyzed by the venom that he couldn’t even speak. He could only struggle to turn his head, staring at the newcomer in disbelief.
How many Golden Core cultivators did this little world have?! Where did this demon come from?!
A young man in a purple robe appeared, seated amidst a sky full of spiderwebs, his long hair falling to his waist. Around his ankle was a ring woven from cypress branches.
“Since you’ve come to someone else’s territory,” he lifted a hand, snatched the trembling, nearly-shattered egg, and tossed it to Feng Qingyun, “you should at least mind your manners. Otherwise, dying far from home would be rather embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”
The egg trembled as if its soul had fled. If it had a human form, it would already be sobbing in Feng Qingyun’s arms.
Feng Qingyun quickly held it close, gently stroking it. “It’s alright, don’t be afraid… Father was careless. I’m sorry, Baby…”
The egg nestled obediently against him. Though terrified, it gradually calmed after trembling for a while. Only then did Feng Qingyun let out a breath. Turning, he said, “Thank you for your help, Dream Emperor…”
“Enough chatter,” Mi Zhiyun, the Dream Emperor of the spider clan, waved lazily. “Leave this one to that old woman and me. You should hurry and take that egg to find your husband.”
“After all, your Dao companion is still waiting for you in the heavens. If you’re late… You really will end up a widower.”
Before his words even settled, the immortal was engulfed in spider silk, wrapped in a pure white cocoon. Whatever other toxins laced his threads, even the fully paralyzed immortal began struggling violently inside.
“Don’t bother struggling,” Mi Zhiyun yawned. “My webs isolate all things; you won’t escape even if you grow wings. Just wait for death, Immortal Lord.”
Seeing the man trapped like prey, Feng Qingyun hesitated. He wanted to leave, but feared something might go wrong. Just as he wavered, a peaceful demonic aura descended.
Another had arrived.
A woman in green robes stepped through the air, graceful and serene. It was Feng Qingyun’s first time seeing Su Yunzhou in human form, and truth be told, no one would associate the gentle-looking woman with the ruler of all ancestral demonic clans at first glance.
“Sword Master, please go,” she said softly. “The two of you have already done enough for this world. Leave the rest to us.”
Feng Qingyun could no longer suppress what was in his heart. He clasped his hands in thanks and turned, not even wiping the blood splattered across him as he sped away.
But the world was vast, and the Heavenly Fox Patriarch hadn’t told him where to go.
He didn’t know where to find him.
And yet… somewhere deep inside, he felt a pull.
His Dantian was nearly empty after the battle with pain flickering faintly within, but he ignored it, burning through what remained of his spiritual and demonic Qi, forcing himself forward. At last, he reached the mountain beside the Xiān Gōng Sect. The moment he landed, the cave he had searched for endlessly after awakening in this life… stood right before him.
Feng Qingyun froze, then the tears came. At last, he understood why he had never been able to find it.
Because it had never been a natural cave.
It was a space created by his man at the brink of death, choosing the closest place he could reach, just to see him one last time. In his past life, Long Yin had known Feng Qingyun was in the Xiān Gōng Sect, but never dared open a space within it.
He chose only the mountain at its foot.
…He was afraid of offending him. Afraid of being rejected.
Feng Qingyun’s fingers dug into his palm.
He couldn’t stop recalling how, not long ago, that man had stood proudly at the Heavenly Gate Ceremony as his Dao partner, unable to hide the joy in his eyes.
Even knowing he would return to heaven the moment it ended.
Feng Qingyun broke. Covering his mouth, he rushed into the cave, tears streaming, but this time, it was nothing like before.
No darkness. No Yellow Springs flooding the ground; only endless white, clean, and empty.
He walked deeper, following the faint light, until at last, a trace of gold appeared. Feng Qingyun paused, thinking it a hallucination through tears, but when he forced himself closer, he realized it wasn’t.
It was Long Yin.
Feng Qingyun froze. Then his eyes widened, and the tears broke free uncontrollably. Long Yin’s entire body had turned gold, like a statue cast from molten metal, seated there, unable to move. But what shattered him most was that half of Long Yin’s body was already gone. Even that handsome face… only half remained.
And worse, the remaining half was still melting.
Golden sand flowed from him, drifting into the endless “sea of gold” behind, never to return.
The one he loved was being assimilated by Heaven.
Bit by bit.
Until nothing remained of him as an individual.
Only then did Feng Qingyun truly understand what “returning” meant for Long Yin. He covered his mouth, sobbing uncontrollably, but the pain swallowed him whole. He didn’t dare think…
At this slow rate of dissolution, how had Long Yin become like this in just a few days?!
To forcibly wield the authority of the Heavenly Dao… this was the price.
And yet, Long Yin did not regret it. Nor did he blame Feng Qingyun in the slightest. When he saw him, the first thing he said was:
“Don’t cry, Little Rose.”
And the second…
“I don’t look good right now. Don’t look… be good.”
T.N: This novel is now completed on my Patreon, at chapter 88! There are still 12 extras that I will translate in the following weeks, but for now, let us celebrate 😀
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