“Forget me in the rivers and lakes…yes.” Wang Lin did not watch Li Qianmei depart. This woman, also bearing the surname Li, stirred nothing within him. His heart was extinguished, shattered upon the moon-kissed star by a roar of rage and a lament of despair. It was rent asunder the moment Luo Tian’s Willow-Brow unveiled the怨嬰. Better to forget each other in the rivers and lakes than to force a hollow bond.

Two disparate emotions, mirroring two paths in life, two contrasting pursuits, two divergent choices. Throughout his existence, Wang Lin encountered women more beautiful, more accomplished, surpassing Li Muwan in countless ways. Hong Die of Luo Tian, Xi Zifeng, Willow-Brow Mu Bingmei, Lü Yantao, and countless fleeting encounters.

Like wisps of smoke, they faded, leaving only Li Muwan and Willow-Brow to penetrate his heart. Wang Lin was a stranger to emotion. The early cataclysm transformed him into a demon of slaughter, his hands stained crimson. Even those who prided themselves on wickedness paled in comparison.

He knew not tenderness, save for the nascent affections of youth, before he walked the path of cultivation. Dreams of imperial exams, a triumphant return, a loving wife by his side, tending to his parents in their twilight years.

But the tragedy of the Teng family marked a death, a metamorphosis. A desolate heart illuminated a truth: Cultivation! The cultivators of this world sought but one thing: Strength!

His feelings for Li Muwan were a mystery, until her passing. Across millennia, as he walked the desolate expanse of the cosmos, driven by necessity, he reflected… and understood. Li Muwan, through the echoes of time, had carved a place within his heart, deep and enduring.

Willow-Brow, the other woman, also found her way into his soul, but through a path of agony, a piercing wound upon his lifeless heart, a brutal tear in flesh and bone. Yet, in the end, Willow-Brow prevailed, though her victory was etched in pain.

Wang Lin’s heart was extinguished, torn asunder. He was spent…only to forget each other in the rivers and lakes remained.

Li Qianmei’s final farewell, the unfurling of her azure tresses, revealed her true identity. In the Cloud Sea, only Li Qianmei possessed such a striking color. She could have concealed it, but she chose otherwise.

Li Qianmei, the celestial daughter of the Ninth Order Sky-Breakers Sect, sat beside Wang Lin upon the ancient stone tablet, even receiving a gift of painted scrolls. This scene was witnessed by all surrounding cultivators. In her own way, Li Qianmei declared Wang Lin’s allegiance to the Divine Sect.

The auction continued, but the gazes directed at Wang Lin shifted. Before, many had questioned his claim to be a member of the Divine Sect, harboring doubts in their hearts. But now, with Li Qianmei’s departure, those doubts began to dissipate. “Next, we offer for sale…a mountain stone!” The elder of the Precious Jade Sect, overseeing the auction, glanced at Wang Lin and produced an object from his hand.

It was an incomplete mountain stone, riddled with fractures, a mere ruin of its former self, unremarkable in appearance.

Gazing upon the stone, Wang Lin was transported back to the battles of Luo Tian. The stone had crumbled then, and he could only conjure a pathetic remnant, a discarded relic within his storage space. “One thousand Immortal Jades!” A voice rang out from the crowd after a brief silence. “Five thousand Immortal Jades!” The white-clad scholar, a former acquaintance of Wang Lin, spoke softly. “Ten thousand Immortal Jades!” The elder of the Dao Law Sect, seated at the forefront of the stone tablets, declared calmly.

Silence descended. Save for a few powerful cultivators, most deemed the mountain stone worthless. But the earlier exchange between Wang Lin and the Cao surnamed cultivator of the Precious Jade Sect, wherein Wang Lin presented two treasures, had not gone unnoticed. Everyone knew the mountain stone belonged to Wang Lin.

A mere hundred thousand Immortal Jades was a small price to pay for Wang Lin’s favor. In the Cloud Sea Star Territory, such an amount was not insignificant.

Wang Lin remained impassive. He formed a hand seal and unleashed a restrictive spell that enveloped the stone fragment. Ripples surged across its surface, then faded, releasing a wave of ancient desolation that permeated the surrounding area.

The air grew heavy with the weight of ages, and the faces of the cultivators became somber.

The Shattered Nirvana elders fared better, but the Pure and Glimpse Nirvana cultivators stared intently at the stone, lost in contemplation. “Mountain Soul!” The alluring woman who knew Wang Lin exclaimed in surprise, examining the stone closely before shaking her head and whispering, “Alas, it is broken.” “This is no ordinary stone. It holds Immortal Qi! Could it be a mountain from the Immortal Realm?” “Twenty thousand Immortal Jades!” The white-clad scholar spoke calmly.

“Though it is of little use to us Shattered Nirvana cultivators, the younger disciples of my sect could glean enlightenment from its inherent power… Moreover, it likely originated from the Immortal Realm and was later refined into this form!” The elder of the Dao Law Sect pondered for a moment before slowly saying, “Thirty thousand Immortal Jades.”

“Forty thousand Immortal Jades!” The voice of Ouyang Long echoed from the stone tablet where he sat cross-legged.

“One thousand Yuan Crystals!” The elder of the Dao Law Sect declared sternly.

Silence fell once more. No one dared to bid further, and the mountain stone was ultimately purchased by the elder of the Dao Law Sect.

Though extraordinary, the mountain stone failed to incite a tempest at the auction, only a gentle ripple. But the next item would cause such shock and awe that even Wang Lin could not have foreseen it.
“This enchanted artifact…it is a suit of armor!” The elder from the Precious Jade Sect inhaled sharply, his eyes flickering with doubt and excitement. With a flick of his wrist, a cloud of inky darkness writhed into existence before him, vaguely coalescing into the shape of a battered, ancient breastplate.

The moment this dark aura appeared, several among the assembled cultivators visibly paled, their gazes sharpening. Among them were the pockmarked elder and the white-robed scholar. “Pray, Master Lü, unseal the bindings, that we might examine it more closely,” the elder addressed Wang Lin, yet subtly acknowledging that the item was indeed his.

Wang Lin noted the elder’s demeanor with interest. After a moment’s contemplation, he raised his right hand and pointed. The seals detached, whirling through the air to settle upon the black aura. Instantly, the darkness seemed to boil, roiling and churning as the intricate layers of enchantment peeled away. The mist contracted, solidifying rapidly, until a suit of armor stood revealed – a suit forged of pure, obsidian darkness, radiating a terrifying, unholy aura.

The demonic energy was so potent that the very heavens recoiled. A colossal vortex of swirling darkness opened above, a silent testament to the armor’s power.

In that instant, as the seals were broken, the auction hall fell deathly silent. Every eye widened, even the ancient, withered adept seated upon the stone dais in the front, his gaze erupting with unimaginable intensity.

Several cultivators, shocked, leaped to their feet, disbelief etched upon their faces.

“A Godrending Daemonplate!” the pockmarked elder gasped, his voice barely a whisper.

“The Godrending Armor!?”

“Can it truly be…the Godrending Daemonplate?”

“Legend tells only those of the Divine Sect are worthy to wield it! The demonic energy is immense…surely this is a Fourth Grade Godrending Daemonplate!” The auction hall erupted into a cacophony of whispers and exclamations at the sight of the revealed armor.

The cultivators gathered here were worldly and wise, their cultivation profound and their composure unshakeable. Yet now, the majority found their self-control shattered, all because of a single, legendary artifact. “Master Lü,” the elder of the Wayseeking Sect rose, clasping his hands in respect. “Are you truly intent on selling this…?” His voice was deep and resonant.

Silence descended once more, and all eyes focused on Wang Lin.

Wang Lin remained impassive, glancing at the Daemonplate. He had not anticipated it being associated with the Divine Sect. A deep curiosity regarding this force within the Cloudsea Starfield began to stir within him. “I desire only Yuan Crystals,” Wang Lin stated calmly. “Very well,” the Wayseeking Sect elder replied, his voice resolute. “I offer three thousand Yuan Crystals for this treasure!”

“This old one counters with five thousand Yuan Crystals!” The wizened crone who had traded the star chart with Wang Lin earlier fixed a strange, avaricious gaze upon the Daemonplate.

“If you seek to acquire this piece, it must be with the goal of studying the Divine Sect’s techniques. In the Cloudsea, only the Divine Sect possesses such knowledge, rarely sharing it with outsiders. This item…I must have it. I bid eight thousand Yuan Crystals!” The white-robed scholar spoke, drawing a deep breath. “Ten thousand Yuan Crystals!” The Wayseeking Sect elder declared, a hint of desperation in his tone. Their sect’s coffers were not limitless; ten thousand was nearly their limit.

A collective gasp filled the hall. This level of bidding was beyond the reach of most present. Just then, a voice with a mocking lilt drifted through the air. “The Seven Peaks Myriad Sect bids one hundred and three thousand Yuan Crystals!” All eyes turned to a young man in yellow robes, a painted fan held languidly in his hand as he announced his offer.

The Wayseeking Sect elder stared blankly at the armor, then sighed, withdrawing from the bidding. The others remained silent as well, knowing they could not afford to compete. “One hundred and five thousand Yuan Crystals!” Ouyang Long’s voice rang out, trembling slightly. Even for him, this price was staggering. “One hundred and eight thousand Yuan Crystals!” the yellow-robed youth countered, his brow furrowed. “Two hundred thousand Yuan Crystals!” Ouyang Long said through gritted teeth. “Two hundred and fifty thousand Yuan Crystals!” The yellow-robed youth’s eyes narrowed, a glint of steel in their depths. “Th-three hundred thousand Yuan Crystals!” Sweat beaded on Ouyang Long’s forehead.

“You, of the paltry Fifth Grade Precious Jade Sect, could never possess such wealth!” The yellow-robed youth leaped to his feet, his gaze fixed on Ouyang Long, recognition dawning and a murderous intent flickering within his eyes.