Deep within the desolate depths of the boundless desert, where the line between life and death stretched eternally, vague, indistinct forms approached silently in the faint, muted light.

Some possessed the twisted frames of serpent-bodied rams, others bore the grotesque visages of horse-bodied gorgons, while yet others were creatures of disproportion, with heads far larger than their frames, or the chillingly human forms with hands like the claws of chickens.

The desert itself was steeped in a profound “dryness.” This aridity extended beyond the physical, seeping into the very core of the divine soul, and in doing so, affected the fleshly form as well. Only the power of the life soul stone could offer resistance against this pervasive desiccation. And a crucial ingredient in the making of life soul stones was the skull of a Yin Demon.

These misshapen, bizarre entities, or rather, these common demons, thrived within this “dryness” as fish in water. Their very bodies were a part of this aridity. It was not that the desert birthed the demons, but rather that the existence of the demons amplified and expanded the desert.

Hundreds of these approaching Yin Demons, their movements vaguely ordered, formed a quiet encircling posture. They were unlike the sporadic, headless types occasionally encountered along the life-and-death line, who always seemed to wander aimlessly.

Within the vast expanse of the desert, the sun was still visible. Yet the sun, when one cast their gaze upward, was forever veiled by a layer of dimness, like rust upon a bronze mirror that, no matter how much one polished, could never be wiped away. One could still see it, but could never peer through it to clearly perceive oneself.

“Even the boundless desert can be endured. What is he trying to achieve here?” a figure swathed in a black robe inquired.

This black robe was no ordinary garment; it possessed a heavy, iron-like texture. At the corners of the lower hem, two black arrowheads hung suspended. These arrowheads gleamed with a cold light, exquisitely sharp, and were far more than mere ornamentation. They could genuinely be fitted onto an arrow shaft at any moment, ready for use in slaying foes.

This Xuan Prison Hanging Arrow Robe was the emblem of the Great Qin Town Prison Division. When activated by the Division’s exclusive secret technique, the back of the black robe would manifest the pattern of a black prison. It was likely in this state that the robe would be recognized by more individuals. However, it was safe to assume that no one under the heavens would willingly acknowledge such recognition.

“Let’s go ask him,” another figure wearing the identical black robe responded. The hood of this second individual was pulled back, revealing a bald forehead adorned with vertical chains tattooed into the skin. These chains continued down the back of the head, trailing into the neck.

This person extended his right hand forward… and clenched his five fingers into a fist!

The approaching, vaguely indistinct “things” simultaneously emitted a cacophony of strange, piercing whistles. But the sounds were fleeting. As soon as they erupted, they ceased.

All that remained…

Was a ground covered in skulls.

Grotesquely twisted, ferocious, and deformed – the skulls of Yin Demons.

The bodies of Yin Demons were half-virtual, half-real, while their skulls were composed of demonic qi, and their bodies possessed physical substance. However, upon death, this dynamic reversed: only the skulls could be preserved, solidifying from the virtual, while their bodies, once real, dissipated directly into nothingness.

When engaging in combat with Yin Demons, their skulls were the sole “spoils of war.” They could be used to create life soul stones, but even an abundance of life soul stones could only act upon the desert itself…

“Tu Wei,” the figure entirely wrapped in the black robe spoke with a hint of dissatisfaction. “Before we came, I told you: if you’re going to strike, strike, but don’t make a spectacle.”

“Does this count as a spectacle?” The bald man with the tattooed chains glanced at him, then finally exhaled a sigh. “Alright.”

At this moment, a human shadow strode out from the dust-laden distance. He also wore the Xuan Prison Hanging Arrow Robe, and his hood was likewise pulled down. However, he possessed long hair, and a hook was suspended from his left ear.

In his left hand, he dragged a majestic, motionless human-like body. From this angle, one could only discern that the “thing” he was dragging possessed a pair of remarkably large bull horns.

“I caught this General Demon!” this person announced with a grin.

“Shang Zhang,” the figure completely wrapped in black robe turned back to look, his tone conveying a sense of helplessness. “Killing it would have sufficed. What do you intend to do by bringing it back?”

“It’s a General Demon, you know,” Shang Zhang explained. “If you kill it, it just scatters, leaving nothing behind.”

Unlike Yin Demons, General Demons possessed intelligence and the capacity to command large groups of Yin Demons, classifying them as low-level “officers” among the demonic ranks. However, whether such a concept of “officers” truly existed in the demonic world was unknown. The great demon tide had receded too, too long ago…

One point was undeniably clear, however: creatures like General Demons left no remains, not even skulls, after death. They would all dissipate into demonic qi. In terms of “harvest,” they were surprisingly inferior to Yin Demons. In short, they were incredibly troublesome; killing them was a futile effort, yet they were still difficult to deal with.

“But it’s just a General Demon. Its knowledge is extremely limited, and its value is practically nil,” the person wrapped in black robe stated. “Why did you bring it back?”

“It wasn’t easy to catch,” this person replied, still smiling.

The person wrapped in black robe grew exasperated. “Is this about whether it was easy or not to catch? I’m asking you, damn it, what use is there in catching it?”

“Alright, alright, alright.” Shang Zhang loosened his grip with his left hand.

A faint popping sound.

The bull-horned General Demon exploded into a cloud of demonic qi, rapidly dispersing and scattering, then, like insects, burrowing into the desert ground.

“Don’t be angry, E Feng,” Shang Zhang said with a smile.

“Damn it, none of you take anything seriously! This is no safe place. It will be troublesome if those wolf cubs start watching us,” E Feng urged. “Hurry up and ask the questions!”

“Alright, alright.”

Shang Zhang thus stepped closer, walked past the bald Tu Wei, and positioned himself behind E Feng. With a smile on his face, he lowered his head and looked towards the ground.

On the ground lay a person covered in scars. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, but his eyes were dim, and the wrinkles at the corners seemed to be deepening. His scattered long hair was turning white, strand by strand… He was rapidly aging.

His Golden Body Jade Marrow had already been shattered. His Divine Arrival realm no longer existed.

“Well met, Senior Deng Yue,” Shang Zhang said, looking into his eyes with a smile. “We exchanged blows in a hurry earlier, and I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself properly. I am Shang Zhang of the Great Qin Town Prison Division. I shamelessly rank among the ten prison chiefs.”

Lying on the ground… was Deng Yue!

And Shang Zhang’s gaze drifted to Deng Yue’s side, suddenly tinged with a touch of sorrow. “Now, there are nine names.”

Beside Deng Yue lay another person. Or rather, a corpse. Also wearing the Xuan Prison Hanging Arrow Robe… a corpse.

He was sprawled face down on the ground, utterly still. A fist-sized hole punctured his back, having pierced through the Xuan Prison Hanging Arrow Robe and his body, and continuing into the ground, a black abyss that could not be seen to the bottom. It was as if he had been pinned to the ground by an invisible long spear.

Clearly, capturing Deng Yue had come at no small cost to the Great Qin Town Prison Division.

Shang Zhang’s expression held no ferocity.

Meanwhile, Deng Yue quietly looked at him, then pulled at the corners of his mouth, a faint laugh escaping his lips. He spoke slowly, “I am very happy to know you, Shang Zhang.”

His voice was also somewhat aged, lacking strength. It was hard to believe that this frail man had managed to fight and flee for three long days while being encircled by four prison chiefs of the Great Qin Town Prison Division, and even kill one of them!

“Very good. I like making friends. You treat me well, and I will treat you well,” Shang Zhang said with a smile. “Can you answer a few questions for me?”

“Of course. We old Qin people have always had the tradition of nurturing the younger generation,” Deng Yue spoke as if it required immense effort, yet with terrible willpower, he made his voice appear calm and gentle. “However, out of politeness, shouldn’t you first answer one of my doubts?”

Shang Zhang pondered seriously for a moment. “You should. But you’d best ask quickly.” He gestured virtually over Deng Yue’s body with his fingers, seeming quite embarrassed. “Because of your condition… you know.”

“Ah.” Deng Yue laughed again. “I have an idea in my heart.” This man, whose hair was already half-white, looked at Shang Zhang with curious eyes. “How did you all discover me?”

“News from your friend,” Shang Zhang said with a smile.

“Impossible,” Deng Yue replied, also laughing. “That friend would never betray me.”

“Of course, of course. Your friend is very loyal,” Shang Zhang said soothingly. “In the past, he watched with wide eyes as his father was burned to death, and did not reveal your whereabouts.”

“However,” Shang Zhang continued, “you two haven’t had contact for so long. Do you know that he later had a child?”

“Ai,” Shang Zhang sighed with genuine regret. “This matter is quite peculiar. You know? Many times, if people have children, they gain weaknesses.”

Deng Yue nodded. “I understand.”

Shang Zhang smiled. “Mutual understanding, then.” It was uncertain if they were both referring to the same kind of “understanding.”

“How is that child now?” Deng Yue asked.

“How could it be? We’re raising it,” Shang Zhang replied. “Who would be so inhumane as to make a move against a child?”

Deng Yue was silent for a moment, then asked again, “Then what about my friend?”

“That must remain a secret,” Shang Zhang’s expression turned serious. “The Town Prison Division has its rules. You should be able to understand.”

“I understand,” Deng Yue said.

Shang Zhang looked at him and smiled. “That’s why I will never have children. And never marry a wife.”

Deng Yue looked at his crotch and smiled. “Entering the palace is an option.”

“That’s not allowed!” Shang Zhang’s reaction was intense. “I hate those dead eunuchs the most! Every word has to be mulled over three times, obstructing people all day long, neither yin nor yang, each one of them psychologically twisted!”

The ill-tempered E Feng and the bald, chain-tattooed Tu Wei, no matter how impatient they were, maintained silence once Shang Zhang began his interrogation. Clearly, they placed great trust in his methods in this regard. But he seemed to be chatting with Deng Yue quite cheerfully, as if he had completely forgotten the purpose of the interrogation.

Deng Yue reminded him. “You can ask me questions now.”

“You see,” Shang Zhang looked at E Feng and Tu Wei, very proud. “Didn’t I say? Convenience with others is convenience with oneself. When you’re out, you rely on friends!”

He turned back and looked towards Deng Yue. “Then I’ll ask you. We want to find that person. Where is he?”

Deng Yue looked at him sincerely. “I don’t know.”

Shang Zhang pressed his brow. “You’re so heavily injured, it’s possible it’s led to amnesia. I can understand.” He was being very accommodating, going to great lengths to make excuses for Deng Yue.

Then he said, “Then I’ll change the question. What does he want to do?” Shang Zhang glanced left and right. “This kind of hellhole. Can he even stay here?”

“Perhaps he’s grown up,” Deng Yue said with a smile.

Shang Zhang said very seriously, “I just asked you two questions, but you only answered one. I hate it the most when people aren’t serious in conversation, only replying with half words. We’ve just met. Don’t let me down, okay?”

Deng Yue slowly said, “Young man, the answer to both questions is the same. At my age, can I still lie to you?”

Shang Zhang slowly nodded, then pursed his lips and smiled. “You might not fully understand the current Town Prison Division. Our interrogation methods are not the same as before.”

“Congratulations,” Deng Yue said. “Generations of talent emerge from the rivers and mountains, each leading the fashion for several hundred years, indeed.”

Shang Zhang slowly squatted down, a smile still on his face, and with two fingers, gently pinched Deng Yue’s right index finger. “One finger breaks the river, right?”

In the boundless desert, there was not even wind, for it could not penetrate. But the wind that was helpless at the edge of the life-and-death line might have once swept across the grasslands, or brushed against the willow trees, perhaps even drifted over the long river.

Then, perhaps it had also come to Guan He Tai.

At Guan He Tai, the prodigies of the various countries gathered. Flags were already densely packed, and heads of people crowded the area. The official start time of the Yellow River Meeting was the eleventh of July. However, the martial competition had actually begun as early as the ninth of July. Or rather, the “preliminary selection.”

The main matches of the Yellow River Meeting, whether in the Inner Mansion or Outer Building fields, only had sixteen slots each. Among these, the world’s six great powers alone occupied six. The remaining ten slots were then contested by other countries.

In the no-restrictions field for those under thirty, there were only eight main match slots in total. Only two of these were available for other countries to compete for. For many countries, their objective in competing was merely to gain qualification for the Yellow River Meeting’s main match.

Obtaining the main match qualification meant having more leverage. If they could advance one or two rounds, they would already have a foothold after the Myriad Demon Gate incident. They would have the possibility of independently capturing demonic races and manufacturing Open Pulse Pills, and not be forever trapped in the tribute system established around Open Pulse Pills, forever unable to break free from the hegemon countries’ grasp.

Of course, not all harvests were suitable. The consequence of a nation’s power failing to match the achievements of its prodigies was also terrifying. Otherwise, after the Myriad Demon Gate incident, where would those abandoned strongholds have come from?

For great powers like Xia, Wei, Sheng, and Song, what they desired was definitely far more than just qualification. Who among those who won by strength would not want to inquire about the weight of the tripod?

But the world’s strongest countries were only those six. The effort required for later contenders to replace them was far, far too great.

In the center of Guan He Tai, the martial field surrounded by six directional pillars was already open. The countries participating in this Yellow River Meeting, besides the world’s six strongest, totaled one hundred and thirty-six.

In fact, being able to participate in the Yellow River Meeting was already a sign of a smaller country with decent national power. Countries in the western border, like Mo, Cheng, and Luo, simply did not send representatives. Besides having little hope of victory and needing to expend already stretched thin strong individuals to lead the teams for the long journey, there was another crucial reason: the preliminary selection of the Yellow River Meeting did not prohibit death.

Many small countries had only a handful of cultivatable geniuses, and they were counting on them to grow into the pillars of the nation, extending the country’s destiny for several hundred years. To put them into the Yellow River Meeting for competitive consumption… they simply couldn’t afford it.

In reality, the main matches of the Yellow River Meeting also did not prohibit death. Only the strong individuals hosting the main matches would, by convention, intervene at the last moment to prevent prodigies from dying.

But despite that, the participating teams from one hundred and thirty-six countries, competing for those pitifully few main match slots, were enough to demonstrate the intensity of the selection.

And among these one hundred and thirty-six countries:

Competing for the ten Inner Mansion realm main match slots were one hundred and twelve people. The vast majority of countries participating in the Yellow River Meeting sent Inner Mansion realm cultivators.

Competing for the ten Outer Building realm main match slots were seventy-five people.

Competing for the two no-restrictions field main match slots for those under thirty were only seventeen people… While it was called a no-restrictions field for those under thirty, if you truly sent an Inner Mansion realm cultivator under thirty, there would be no possibility of them even stepping onto the stage.

“So many people in the Inner Mansion field! No wonder so many people say the Inner Mansion field is the most competitive,” in a teahouse on Qi Street, after listening to the guard’s report, Cao Ji smiled. “Jiang Qing Yang, are you nervous?”

“Of course, you can’t calculate it like that,” Jiang Wang, who was sitting cross-legged opposite him, replied. “It’s just that the threshold for the Outer Building field and the no-restrictions field for those under thirty is relatively higher, eliminating a large number of people beforehand. As for being nervous or not…”

He lowered his head and looked at Chang Xiang Si. “Hearing that the heroes of the world have all gathered here, my sword is trembling.”

Then he chuckled softly. “It’s very excited.”

1. “Generations of talented people emerge from the rivers and mountains, each leading the fashion for several hundred years.” – From “On Poetry Four Pieces, Part Two” by Zhao Yi of the Qing Dynasty.

2. Because many readers said they were not accustomed to not having an update at eight in the evening, tomorrow’s update has been moved up… No more drafts are left. Tomorrow will only have two updates, and we’ll see about the day after tomorrow. (I’ve been saving up the explosive climax chapters from the beginning, sigh, sigh)

Genius in one second: m.173kxs