A life is easily drowned in wine, and in this world, I have yet to meet a worthy opponent on the chessboard.

A solitary citadel stood amidst the vibrant clouds. The entire White Emperor City was empty, save for Zheng Juzhong. Even the magnificent Glazed Pavilion had been flung out of the city by him.

After all, as the junior brother, he had to listen to his senior brother. Liu Chicheng was helpless and dared not utter a word of refusal. However, he insisted on bidding farewell to his city lord senior brother in person before leaving. Zheng Juzhong, seeing Liu Chicheng’s tearful eyes, sighed. Recalling a minor incident from the past, Zheng Juzhong, for once, softened his heart. He appeared at the mountain gate, instructing his junior brother, clad in a pink Daoist robe, to refrain from revealing their master’s name when causing trouble outside, lest the opponent be afraid to kill him.

Liu Chicheng immediately understood. He couldn’t reveal the master’s name, but he could reveal the senior brother’s!

Zheng Juzhong waved his hand, signaling Liu Chicheng to stop blocking his view.

Perhaps reluctant to leave, Liu Chicheng sought to confirm something in his heart: How many Fourteenth Realm cultivators does Senior Brother possess?

As the junior brother, he certainly wished to believe it, yet he dared not believe it was true.

Zheng Juzhong smiled and asked, “How many do you desire?” Liu Chicheng cautiously replied, “Of course, the more the better. Two are not few, and three are not too many.”

Liu Chicheng further inquired if Senior Brother could advance even further. Zheng Juzhong saw a hint of worry in his eyes. He patted his shoulder and said with a smile, “The wise are eager to learn, but it’s not good to pretend to be a fool. Do not overthink matters that are not your concern. Just be your simple self.”

If there was anyone in the Vast Expanse willing to sacrifice their chance at the Fourteenth Realm for someone else, Liu Chicheng would undoubtedly be that person, without hesitation or pretense.

Just like back then, Zheng Juzhong, while pondering which path to take to reach the Fourteenth Realm, created a puppet out of boredom. It plotted and schemed, colluding internally and externally, unaware that it was Zheng Juzhong slaying Zheng Juzhong, himself killing himself. In that conspiracy encompassing the entire White Emperor City, even the likes of Han Qiao Se couldn’t escape. Only Liu Chicheng, clad in a pink Daoist robe, stood between one man and ten thousand, uttering no grand pronouncements nor harsh words. Liu Chicheng was instantly pulverized by hundreds of sword lights, arcane arts, and divine abilities. Even in death, he still resented Han Qiao Se and the others’ betrayal, worried about the safety of his senior brother. In his final moment, the pink-robed Liu Chicheng merely glanced back, muttering, “Senior Brother, take care.”

At the highest point of the colorful clouds stood a great banner, inscribed with the words “Yielding the First Move to All Under Heaven.”

Below, there was a stone table with a chessboard carved into it, upon which rested two containers of chess pieces.

Zheng Juzhong sat by the table, a container of white pieces beside him.

After waiting for an unknown amount of time, Zheng Juzhong switched the positions of the two containers. He gently held up his sleeve with one hand and used two fingers of the other to pick up a black piece from the container.

Judging by his posture, Zheng Juzhong was about to make the first move on the board. Such a breach of etiquette was contrary to the inscription on the great banner.

A robust woman with a rough face traversed two realms, disregarding the White Emperor City’s restrictions as if they were nonexistent. She arrived at this place and cheerfully greeted, “Long time no see, Huai Xian!”

Zheng Juzhong ignored her, neither seeing nor hearing. Just as the black piece in his fingertips was about to touch the board, the “woman” sighed lamentably, “I truly fear you, Zheng Juzhong.”

“Speak. Why did you summon me? I have a gentleman’s agreement with the Dao Ancestor. My words and actions should not overstep. Please understand.”

“Three Fourteenth Realm Zheng Juzhongs, relying on swordsmanship, Daoist arts, and divine powers, are, at best, merely invincible. There is no shame in that. Your sparring with Yu Dou is just a friendly exchange, not a life-or-death struggle.”

The visitor was none other than the amalgamation of countless outer demons from the Extraterrestrial Heavens. As she spoke, her appearance shifted, becoming the old Daoist hanging at the highest point of the White Jade Capital, the image of the Dao Ancestor in the eyes of the Azure Clarity Realm.

Zheng Juzhong tossed the black chess piece back into the container and asked, “Do you desire freedom?”

Could there be anything more free than an outer demon? Being so utterly pure, what need was there for freedom?

The outer demon scoffed. “With you?”

Zheng Juzhong nodded. “With me.”

It asked, “Are you daydreaming of establishing a sect and proclaiming yourself an ancestor? Then I must ask you, Zheng Juzhong, what sect do you wish to establish, what ancestor do you wish to be?!”

Before Zheng Juzhong could give an answer that would undoubtedly shock the world, regardless of what he said, it burst into hearty laughter. “I am a heart demon, a reflection, an outer demon that everyone wants to kill. Zheng Juzhong is the foremost demonic cultivator in the mortal realm. So it seems, we are indeed a perfect match. By refining me, this pseudo-Fifteenth Realm, you will achieve perfect merit and advance to the true Fifteenth Realm? From then on, you will be unique? Slaying Fourteenth Realm cultivators as easily as cutting melons?”

Zheng Juzhong slowly spoke three sentences: “First, I will help you break the immortal cage.”

“Then, I will make the world devoid of spiritual energy, without cultivators, without mountain and water deities, without spirits, ghosts, and monsters, without past lives, without reincarnation, without Yin and Yang, without karma.”

“Finally, I will leave this mortal realm without sects or ancestors.”

The outer demon shook its head. “How uninteresting. I never imagined that the Zheng Juzhong I was most eager to meet would be so dull, unable to escape the well-trodden path. Newcomers walk old roads, at best, they go higher and further than some predecessors.”

Gods are never wrong, but they are the least free.

In a way, those who possess the purest freedom are the outer demons, unrestrained and unburdened. Every one of their thoughts can be fascinating and splendid, blurring the lines between truth and falsehood.

Zheng Juzhong’s so-called breaking of the cage was merely making “it” unfree. What ordinary Fourteenth Realm cultivator would dare to make such bold claims, daring to be confident that their Daoist power surpasses it, this pseudo-Fifteenth Realm? For thousands of years, which Fourteenth Realm cultivator has dared to refine it, truly unafraid of being burned from the inside out? Of being usurped, the guest becoming the master? Even if someone dared to think of it, they would not dare to do it. What Zheng Juzhong wanted to do, the Dao Ancestor had, of course, already been able to do. However, the Dao Ancestor was a Fifteenth Realm, in harmony with the entire Azure Clarity Realm, and it was not appropriate to act in this way. He could only allow it to roam free, or rather, keep it in a pen on Jade Capital Mountain, the so-called Extraterrestrial Heavens.

Someone once said, “A Daoist cleansing heart demons is like proofreading a book, like sweeping fallen leaves from the heart-ground. Sweep and sweep, and they are born again, the fallen leaves flutter and raise dust, sweep and sweep, and they appear.”

Even the powerful Dao Ancestor was still a Daoist, unable to transcend this category. Facing the source of heart demons from several realms, all the Daoists in those realms, they could not be cleansed, could not be refined.

The reason for this was that the ruins of the ancient Heavenly Court still existed, unable to be completely destroyed. Furthermore, Wen Hai Zhoumi, who ascended and left, presided over the new Heavenly Court, inviting the gods to return to their positions.
Otherwise, if the Patriarchs of the Three Teachings truly reached a consensus, allowing the Dao Ancestor to free his hands and refine hundreds of millions of inner demons for thousands upon thousands of years, using it as the Great Dao for the fifteenth realm Qi Refiners to attain enlightenment and achieve the Dao once more, then the first existence in the sixteenth realm might very well fall into the Dao Ancestor’s grasp.

Zheng Juzhong smiled faintly, “To be underestimated by a mere extraterrestrial demon, how amusing.”

Standing up, Zheng Juzhong gazed towards an ordinary location within White Emperor City.

Following Zheng Juzhong’s line of sight, the extraterrestrial demon saw a bamboo forest.

Rain fell from the heavens, and new fourteenth realm cultivators sprung up like bamboo shoots after a rain, their tips barely peeking out, resembling tender, delicious shoots of earth.

Bamboo shoots grow quickly, provided they are not uprooted and eaten, and given the chance to break through the soil, growing into a verdant bamboo stalk, eventually becoming old bamboo, until it blooms.

Even though Zheng Juzhong himself was a brand new fourteenth realm cultivator, his three fourteenth realm states, the three ways of merging with the Dao, had nothing to do with the scattered bestowments of the Patriarchs of the Three Teachings.

A dividing line existed, and Zheng Juzhong still belonged to the old fourteenth realm.

As for Ning Yao, the unparalleled talent of the Five Colored World, she had heeded Chen Qingdu’s reminder and chose to enter seclusion to “hide from the rain,” so only chronologically was Ning Yao a new fourteenth realm cultivator.

Therefore, Zheng Juzhong’s view of Ning Yao was no different from that of the old blind man in the Temple of Zhi in the Ten Thousand Mountains, both believing that Ning Yao’s fourteenth realm possessed immense destructive power.

The former Hao Ran scholar Jia Sheng, the later Wildlands Zhou Mi, aside from the nickname “Cunning Old Fox” given to him by others, the title “Sea of Letters” was more like a self-proclaimed appellation, but he was better known as Wen Hai. “Wen Hai” had two interpretations: one, Zhou Mi’s learning was as vast and profound as a boundless sea; two, Zhou Mi’s self-created tens of thousands of Wildlands characters, the “Water Cloud Script.”

Throughout the entire Underworld Netherworld, and also a small number of ghost cultivators who were very well hidden in the Yang World, such as the two Ghost Immortals of Immortal Pin City, the old woman with the Daoist title “Qiong Ou,” who was hiding on the Yellow Springs Road, the old woman who had lost her treasure called “Fly Whisk,” whose true form was a mosquito, lamented her fate. And then there was Wu Ti, the master of the Ascension Realm Great Demon Xuanpu, also in a hidden dojo. Having previously heard the great vow in the heavens and earth to slay Chen Ping’an of the Yang World, Wu Ti lamented that the time was not yet ripe. Unexpectedly, that senior who had already reached the threshold seemed unable to cross that step. Just as Wu Ti felt there was still a glimmer of hope, it was the will of Heaven, and they all sensed some mysterious omen, and their Dao hearts trembled. These Ghost Immortals, each with their own cultivation, simultaneously, either sighed deeply or lamented quietly, feeling a void in their hearts.

A single-plank bridge, first come, first served. They were all ghosts, and their Great Dao was destined to be severed.

He just didn’t know which old codger would obtain this good fortune.

But in fact, the ghost Xu Jun was now less than fifty years old in Dao age. He had relied on his Dao companion, eating soft rice to cultivate to the fourteenth realm.

The new Palace Master of Huayang Palace on Difei Mountain in Youzhou, Qingming World, was actually an outsider, using the pseudonym Mao Zhui, with the Daoist title ‘White Bone.’

After deducing the result, Mao Zhui didn’t feel much resentment, but his expression was relaxed, and he cursed the Lu Sect Leader, “You dog thing, you’re ruthless, even screwing yourself over.”

Leap Month Peak.

Just as Lu Tai had said before climbing the mountain, Zhang Fenghai, who was only half a step away from the fourteenth realm, only had to wait for the torrential rain to fall on the human world to cross that half step.

The reality was just like that. Zhang Fenghai, who had long been at the peak of the Ascension Realm, made further progress without any suspense.

Zhang Fenghai, who had read all the books in the Jade Pivot City’s library by the age of thirty, had been imprisoned in the Yinxia Cave of Zhenyue Palace for many years. In the end, he chose to betray White Jade Capital and work with the martial artist Xin Ku to establish his own sect.

With Lu Tai’s matchmaking, a total of six people established a sect, which had already been announced to the entire Qingming World.

Zhang Fenghai was naturally the Sect Master, and the meritorious Lu Tai, in addition to being the agreed-upon Chief Honorary Elder, also served as the Deputy Sect Master.

Lu Tai lowered his head and hunched his back, dragging a dog’s tail with both hands, staggering towards Zhang Fenghai, who was drinking on the cliff, saying that he didn’t have any sense, and he should quickly congratulate the Sect Master.

The poor dog, sensing Zhang Fenghai’s immense Daoist aura, didn’t dare to go, but it couldn’t help but go, so it whimpered.

Lu Tai dragged the dog’s tail and laughed, “Sect Master, congratulations! Does our previous agreement still stand?”

Previously, Lu Tai had fueled the flames, saying that several interesting young people had appeared in the Wildlands World. According to Zhang Fenghai’s deduction, before he and Xin Ku took another step forward, there had to be five Ascension Realm cultivators to ensure that the trip to the Wildlands would be without any major accidents. Lu Tai then took the opportunity to climb up the pole, telling Zhang Fenghai and Xin Ku to work harder. Lu Tai threw out the dog that couldn’t be brought to the table, clapped his hands, sat next to Zhang Fenghai, and asked softly, “What did Xin Ku say?”

Zhang Fenghai said, “One step becomes half a step. His current martial arts attainment is roughly equivalent to Lin Jiangxian a hundred years ago.”

Lu Tai rubbed his hands and said, “Our small sect rarely ventures out for a leisurely stroll. We don’t dare to hope for meritorious service, but we should be able to avoid being casually slapped to death, right?”

Zhang Fenghai nodded, “As long as you don’t cause trouble everywhere, there shouldn’t be a problem. Xin Ku just doesn’t say it, but he actually wants to travel and see other worlds.”

Lu Tai spat, “I am a person who travels the world, treating everyone with kindness and sincerity in everything.”

He wasn’t that Lu Sect Leader, who could chat with a dog for a long time. Not even dogs would touch the Lu Sect Leader’s shit.

Zhang Fenghai tied the wine pot to his waist, stood up, and looked back at the sect members who were more or less looking forward to it, but before he, the Sect Master, could speak, the Deputy Sect Master put his hands on his hips and laughed, “With our six experts, plus Lu Chen, where in the heavens and earth can we not go?”

Lu Tai glanced at the prostrate “Lu Chen,” who immediately understood and opened his mouth, “Woof, woof!”

Lu Bixia asked curiously, “The aura around Yinzhou was quite significant earlier. Could it be that ghost Xu Jun?”

This female rogue cultivator was at the peak of the Ascension Realm, and she was also one of the candidates of the Qingming World.

Lu Tai nodded, “His ability to eat soft rice is the best in the world. You have to admire it.”

Yuan Ying smiled, “The Hidden Official was ultimately outdone by Xu Jun.”

Fourteenth realm Zhang Fenghai, the second strongest martial artist in Qingming World Xin Ku, Lu Bixia, Lu Tai, Yuan Ying, one of the ten young candidates from several worlds, Shi Xingyuan.
The six of them intended to venture forth, seeking respite in the untamed lands. Of course, it was merely a leisurely tour of the mountains and rivers, but woe betide anyone who dared obstruct their wanderings, for they would become part of the very landscape itself.

Perhaps a canine companion named “Lu Chen” would join their ranks.

Their first stop on this grand journey across the world was likely to be the shattered remains of the once-mighty Sword Qi Great Wall.

High atop the verdant peak of “Qingshan” in the wildlands…

A black-robed girl with pigtails glared intensely at a gaunt, emaciated maiden, posing a rather impolite question, “Are you the mixed-blood of this world?”

The maiden’s gaze remained vacant, so the pigtail girl circled her, returning to the maiden’s back and delivering a swift kick to the back of her knee. The maiden knelt, her expression unchanging.

The pigtail girl nodded, now more satisfied with their relative heights. She moved to the maiden’s side, a hint of pity in her eyes. One cheek of the maiden bore the mark of an ancient branding, the archaic golden character “焚” (Fen – Burn) etched into her flesh.

Who but Zhou Mi could have dared to mark this “maiden” so?

And who but the former Hidden Officer, Xiao Xun, who had betrayed the Sword Qi Great Wall, would so brazenly humiliate her?

Xiao Xun grasped the maiden’s cheek, twisting it gently, and inquired, “The meaning of ‘Fen Gao Ji Gui’ (Burning the midnight oil)?”

The listless maiden nodded.

Back then, Bai Ze had sought her out, or rather, she had allowed herself to be found by Bai Ze. She had declared her chosen name to be Gui Ke.

She was born in the primordial era of the wildlands, like Xin Ku of Qingming Heaven, and Liu Xiang of the Great Harmony World, who once rivaled the Sage, bearing the names Zi Jun and Ju Jun. Like Feng Yuanxiao, the disciple Huang Ting found in the Five Colored World purely by chance.

Gui Ke of the wildlands, Xin Ku of Qingming, Liu Xiang of Great Harmony, and Feng Yuanxiao of the Five Colored World – they were all of the same kind.

Every immortal abode, every human city in the wildlands, was like a stroke of ink etched onto her face. The denser the spiritual energy of a place, the more it festered within her like a suppurating wound that would never heal. Of course, this was related to her deep-seated aversion to the Great Ancestor of Mount Tuoyue and later, Zhou Mi of the Literary Sea. Had their paths aligned and their hearts resonated, these torturous places would have been like embroidered patterns upon a beautiful garment. Her rejection of the Great Ancestor’s Dao largely stemmed from her resentment of his failure to conquer the Sword Qi Great Wall and reclaim the Ten Thousand Mountains. It was that simple. And her rejection of Zhou Mi was fueled by his outsider status, an equally simple reason.

Xiao Xun released her grip, turning to the three sword cultivators who accompanied her.

Xiao Xun’s gaze clearly conveyed the question: How is it? Is my knowledge profound, elevated, and terrifying?

Nodding to herself, Xiao Xun was pleased with her riddle-solving skills. Indeed, when I become formidable, even I find myself frightening!

Following Xiao Xun on this journey were three native sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Luo Shan and Zhu An, both from the lineage of the former Hidden Officer of the Summer Retreat Palace.

And then there was Zhang Lu, a carefree Great Sword Immortal who had spent years guarding the Inverted Mountain gates, now drinking and still drunk. The more one drinks, the more one worries; not drinking is the greatest worry of all.

Two ever-present figures of the wildlands, Fei Ran and Zhou Qinggao, approached the mountain peak.

Xiao Xun asked, “Where is that beast?”

Zhou Qinggao smiled and corrected, “Chu Sheng.”

Xiao Xun turned her head, feigning attentiveness, and exclaimed in mock shock, “What? You’re saying ‘Chu Sheng’ is a beast?”

Her face then lit up with realization, and she gave Zhou Mi’s closed-door disciple two thumbs up, praising, “A mere Celestial Realm cultivator daring to insult an old-timer of the Fourteenth Realm! Zhou Mi didn’t take you as his disciple without reason.”

Zhou Qinggao chuckled, “Unable to win against you, Senior, I shouldn’t have spoken up. I admit defeat.”

Xiao Xun pointed to the ground, “Admit defeat and kowtow a few times, show some sincerity.”

Zhou Qinggao patted his forehead, “Junior’s cultivation is low, but I only kowtow to my master in this life.”

Xiao Xun narrowed her eyes, reaching out to grab a pigtail.

Zhou Qinggao tucked his hands into his sleeves, secretly forming two hand seals, ready to flee at any moment.

The wildlands were like this: cultivators didn’t avoid trouble just because their cultivation was high. On the contrary, the higher their cultivation, the greater the trouble. Even as Zhou Mi’s closed-door disciple, he still couldn’t count on having a life-saving charm in this wildlands. At times, it might even hasten his demise. This was why Zhou Qinggao had to stick by Fei Ran’s side these past few years.

Fei Ran mediated, “Give me some face?”

Xiao Xun extended her hand.

Without hesitation, Fei Ran tossed over a rusted bronze short sword. Xiao Xun caught it, weighing it in her hand. Not bad, she nodded, “I’ll buy your face.”

Xiao Xun then casually tossed the newly acquired immortal weapon to Luo Shan, instructing, “You can pass it on to your recently accepted disciple. Remember to tell that ignorant little girl that it was a gift from me.”

Zhang Lu laughed, “Why not give it to me? You promised to live the high life with you, but all I’ve gotten is nine starving meals in three days, so broke it’s pitiful. Selling a sword for wine, now that sounds heroic.”

Xiao Xun chuckled, “Hold your horses. Just wait a moment, the one sending the gifts will be here soon.”

Back in the Sword Qi Great Wall, Xiao Xun and Lu Zhi were collectively known as “Fierce.”

Fei Ran looked at the former Hidden Officer whom Zhou Mi had specifically instructed him not to provoke, to be allowed to do as she pleased, to be left alone.

A Fourteenth Realm sword cultivator who had refined the entire Hall of Heroes of the wildlands seemed… not so pure.

And then there was Fei Ran, who had become a newly-ascended Fourteenth Realm sword cultivator after a great rain. He, too, was not entirely pure.

Xiao Xun glanced at Fei Ran, shaking her head dismissively. Your Fourteenth Realm is likely to become a head to be given away once you leave the wildlands. How suffocating, isn’t it?

Don’t even mention facing that old blind man; can you even beat that girl Ning Yao?

Fei Ran smiled, explaining, “I’m not like you. I don’t need the word ‘pure.’ I wouldn’t want it even if it was given to me.”
Fei Ran had already become a sworn ally with Gui Ke, their Dao hearts resonating. She had also fulfilled her promise to Zhou Mi, creating two branches of the River of Time within the desolate wilderness. As the rightful sovereign of this land, and with Bai Ze unlikely to challenge her path, Fei Ran held a strong chance of ascending to the fifteenth realm, only a matter of time.

Given this, why would Fei Ran still covet the title of a pure sword cultivator in the fifteenth realm?

Would Zou Zi allow it? Would Zheng Juzhong agree?

Xiao Xun, feigning ignorance, asked, “Fei Ran, why did you summon me here?”

Fei Ran replied, “It was you, Senior, who refined that Hall of Heroes, was it not?”

Xiao Xun countered, “Back then, neither the Great Ancestor of Mount Tuoyue, Zhou Mi of Wenhai, nor that wretch whom Zhou Qinggao called a beast, ever forbade me from wandering about with this wellspring, did they?”

Fei Ran said, “Hence, we had to invite Senior to Qingshan for a discussion. We need to reorganize our positions so that each of us can act legitimately, without anyone feeling resentment or viewing others as useless. By entering the Hall of Heroes this time, we can clarify matters, establish our places, and avoid much future trouble.”

Sadly, “Xiao Mo,” who had slumbered in the moonlight for ten thousand years, betrayed them, siding with Chen Yingan, which led Bai Jing to defect from the desolate wilderness as well.

Otherwise, those two Ascendant Realm sword cultivators, one at his peak and the other in perfection, would undoubtedly have secured a place within the Hall of Heroes.

Before that great battle, the old fourteen thrones, led by the Great Ancestor of Mount Tuoyue, Zhou Mi, and Liu Cha, were lauded as the most powerful and battle-hardened.

The current new thrones, filled with hastily recruited individuals, were a joke. Even Fei Ran, who didn’t overvalue cultivation level, found it somewhat disgraceful.

Xiao Xun glanced at Zhou Qinggao.

Fei Ran smiled, “He’s still at the Celestial Realm bottleneck, so he’s not yet qualified to be seated.”

Zhou Qinggao, now known by his Daoist name “Wooden Clog,” had formerly held a mundane name.

Zhou Qinggao replaced Zi Wumeng in the desolate wilderness’s Heavenly Stems, becoming its leader.

He had jumped directly from the third realm to the Jade Purity Realm, and within a few years, he had become a Celestial, but now he was stuck at the bottleneck.

Xiao Xun laughed, “It seems that with a good master, one’s cultivation can progress smoothly, inspiring envy.”

Zhou Qinggao had learned his lesson and swallowed the words “Unfortunately, I am my master’s last disciple” back into his stomach.

Two more individuals arrived. One was a boy with double pupils, Li Gou, Daoist name “Flying Coin.”

After being awakened by Bai Ze, Li Gou retrieved eight celestial treasures from all corners of the desolate wilderness in one fell swoop.

The other was a man who always seemed to be half-asleep, yawning constantly. He was simply called Wuming Shi, the Nameless One.

Li Gou wore a yellow Qiankun pouch and a purple demon-capturing gourd at his waist.

Upon awakening, Li Gou discovered that his previous path of refining objects into Dao had been taken by the female cultivator “Taiyin” of Qingming, but Li Gou had prepared an alternate path long ago.

A city of books, proceeding in the opposite direction, to become the king.

That King Youwu had clearly succeeded in uniting with the Dao, but instead of flaunting his achievement, he had found a hidden place, an elusive hermitage, and concealed himself.

In contrast, this double-pupiled boy, Li Gou, and his close friend, “Wuming Shi,” had boldly come to this mountain, openly visiting Fei Ran and Xiao Xun.

Li Gou had only succeeded in uniting with the Dao after the “rain” had stopped in several realms.

Zhou Mi had yielded a path, not just yielding it but virtually paving the way for Li Gou to reach the fourteenth realm.

Before ascending, Zhou Mi had given Zhou Qinggao something: a collection of woodblocks engraved with text, Zhou Mi’s own Cloud-Water Book of the desolate wilderness.

Thus, Li Gou had replaced Zhou Mi as the master of writing in the desolate wilderness, enjoying the Dao gifts brought by the realm’s literary fortunes.

Wuming Shi glanced at the “little girl” with pigtails and sighed. Since Zhou Mi had left behind the means to control the literary fortunes of the desolate wilderness, the martial fortunes of this realm would naturally not be an exception.

Xiao Xun pointed at the demon-capturing gourd on the boy’s waist and beckoned.

Without a word, Li Gou took off the golden gourd and tossed it to Xiao Xun.

Xiao Xun slapped Zhang Lu on the back of the head and stared directly at Li Gou, asking, “Not going to fight first before giving it to me?”

This wasn’t merely snatching something; it was like asking the one being robbed, “Aren’t you going to cut me first before handing it over?”

Li Gou said, “These external objects are dispensable to me now.”

Xiao Xun retorted angrily, “That’s a bit much!”

He punched Li Gou’s body, shattering it.

Li Gou instantly reformed.

Xiao Xun didn’t feel it was futile, he just kept punching, causing Li Gou to explode and then reform, simply for the fun of it!

Taking advantage of Xiao Xun’s distraction, Fei Ran asked softly, “Do you regret not cooperating with Zhou Mi back then?”

Gui Ke nodded, her voice hoarse, “I regret it terribly.”

If she had been willing to join Zhou Mi in attacking the vast and boundless world, the demon race of the desolate wilderness might have captured the Jewel Bottle Continent, piling up corpses to flatten that great river.

Perhaps she would have devoured that “fellow Daoist” and become a half-owner of both the desolate wilderness and the vast and boundless world.

Fei Ran asked telepathically, “Will you regret becoming my Dao companion?”

The girl, usually expressionless and with vacant eyes, suddenly smiled, hesitated, extended a pale, withered finger, gently grasped Fei Ran’s wrist, blushed slightly, lowered her eyelids, and said shyly, “You are very warm.”

Fei Ran chuckled and held her slightly cold hand, turning to look at Xiao Xun, smiling, “A reminder, this is a one-time exception.”

Xiao Xun glanced sideways, curled his lip, and uncharacteristically didn’t argue, nodding. “You two lovebirds should live well in the future. Li Gou will cover my share of the wedding gift.”

Fei Ran smiled and cupped his fist in thanks.

Xiao Xun muttered, “Damn bookworms, all cut from the same cloth.”

One after another, truly great demons of the desolate wilderness were summoned by Fei Ran for discussions, so that Senior Xiao Xun wouldn’t have to wait too long.

Among the old fourteen thrones were the Mountain-Moving Ancestor Zhu Yan and the new master of the Yiluo River, Fei Fei.

Among the new thrones was the Sword Immortal Shou Chen, the first disciple of Zhou Mi of Wenhai, an Ascendant Realm sword cultivator with a sword case carrying six swords, wearing a green robe known as the “Bound Banana.”
Zhou Qing bowed respectfully to Shou Chen, addressing him as “Senior Brother,” to which Shou Chen responded with a smile and nod.

Then there was the white-haired, white-robed Grand Demon Guan Xiang, single-mindedly trying to persuade the young Hidden Official to become the Daoist partner of his granddaughter.

Xin Zhuang, a direct disciple of the Great Ancestor of Tuoyue Mountain, was a female Ascendant Realm cultivator, a master of formations, and also a martial artist who had reached the Pinnacle.

A towering cultivator clad in resplendent golden armor and wearing a mask stood among them. Even Fei Ran could not discern the origins of his Great Dao or his true identity.

A Daoist nun, known by the Daoist name Rou Yi, wore a unique Daoist coronet adorned with lotuses blossoming atop hibiscus flowers, with fishtails atop the lotuses.

She was the embodiment of the Old Throne Grand Demon Huang Luan after she had beheaded her Three Corpses. Zhou Mi had returned all the treasures to her after consuming Huang Luan years ago.

Finally, Bai Ze ascended the mountain slowly, accompanied by two others. These two Ancient Grand Demons, like Li Gou and the Nameless One, had been personally awakened by Bai Ze.

There was a beautiful woman named Guan Yi, Daoist name “Xue Cang” (Snow Burial).

And a diminutive, hunched old crone, radiating Dao energy in five colors. Each time the old crone lifted her foot to ascend a step, the mountain spirit of this verdant peak felt immense pressure and had to utilize supernatural powers to counteract the weight of the Great Dao.

Zhu Yan, standing on the railing, wiped his mouth at the sight of this old crone. If they were all yet to reach the Fourteenth Realm, then they all still had a chance?!

The old crone looked up, smiling, and pointed to Master Bai Ze in front of her, indicating to Zhu Yan whether merging with the Dao was more important, or one’s life.

Fei Ran smiled and asked, “Master Bai Ze, is Wang Youwu definitely absent today?”

As for “Hu Tu” (Muddlehead), another Ancient Grand Demon who had lived for millennia, he would not be attending.

Bai Ze said, “Arrived.”

As he spoke, Wang Youwu, a newly advanced Fourteenth Realm cultivator who believed he was well-hidden, was casually dragged out from his secluded sanctuary by Bai Ze and forcibly brought to Guan Yi’s side.

An Hall of Heroes.

The new Thrones of the Desolate Wilds.

At the highest position, the Lord of All Under Heaven, Fei Ran.

In the second highest position, Bai Ze, who had returned to the Desolate Wilds from the Vast Expanse.

Of course, if Bai Ze wished to occupy the highest position, no one, including Fei Ran, would object. They dared not speak against it, nor would they dare harbor any dissent in their hearts.

Third, the incarnation of the Great Dao of the Desolate Wilds, the maiden Gui Ke.

Xiao Xun was displeased with her fourth-place position and glared at Gui Ke, who had just collected her share of money. The maiden actively requested to switch seats with Xiao Xun.

Bai Ze said nothing, and Fei Ran said nothing, so they exchanged positions.

Xiao Xun put her hands on her hips and laughed heartily, “If you don’t mind, treat this place as your bridal chamber and produce offspring soon!”

The old ancestor Chu Sheng, leaning on a walking stick.

Li Gou, who no longer carried his Qiankun pouch or Demon-Trapping Gourd.

Wang Youwu, wearing a bamboo coronet and riding a deer.

These three were all Fourteenth Realm cultivators.

Following them was the Desolate Wilds’ foremost martial artist, the Nameless One, at the perfected Ascendant Realm.

Zhu Yan, Guan Yi, and that diminutive old crone whose Daoist name and alias were both unrevealable.

Fei Fei, Shou Chen, Guan Xiang, Xin Zhuang, Rou Yi, and that golden-armored, mysterious figure obscured by clouds, similar to the old crone.

Seventeen new Throne Grand Demons of the Desolate Wilds.

But Bai Ze said, “Hold on a moment.”

In an instant, a robust female martial artist forcefully opened a door, or rather, pried it open with her bare hands. She strode out from the frigid realm of countless wronged souls and vengeful spirits. As she stepped across the threshold, martial fortune thundered through the heavens, surging towards her. She swept back her dark hair, revealing a stunning, browless face. As she took another step, crossing the threshold completely, another wave of martial fortune poured in from the Vast Expanse, the Desolate Wilds, and even the Western Buddhist Kingdom, all flowing towards her.

In just two steps, she went from the martial Pinnacle, Qi Flourishing layer, to Returning to Truth, and then to Divine Enlightenment.

The Vast Expanse.

At the Dragon Tiger Mountain Celestial Master’s Residence, the Ten-Tailed Celestial Fox, Lian Zhen, prostrated herself to welcome the Celestial Master Zhao Tianlai, who had successfully emerged from seclusion.

In a rural courtyard, after a rain shower, the lotus leaves swayed, cherry blossoms burned like fire. Bees and butterflies flitted among the flowers, dividing the spoils of spring.

Liu Qi sat under the eaves, sighing softly. Without that most triumphant human blocking his path, he had finally succeeded. He thought that Su Zihao’s magnanimity would probably not mind this.

In the Northern Ju Luzhou, Liu Jubao walked out of the family ancestral hall and looked back at the thirty-seven peaks stretching across the continent, lost in thought.

The Western Buddhist Kingdom.

At a gilded bronze Mandala, countless sutra pillars were erected. Someone attained enlightenment here, and a ray of heavenly light pierced through layers of mist, descending upon the world like ambrosia.

A monk who had reincarnated eighty times finally remembered all of his previous lives in this lifetime. Beside the monk was a river, by the river was a boat, and at the riverbank was a carriage.

The Azure Firmament.

The Deputy City Lord of Nanhua City, Madam Wei, completed her merits.

At an ancient battlefield ruin, a desolate and uninhabited wilderness, there was only a solitary, dilapidated temple, simultaneously worshiping the Confucian Sage, the Buddha, and the Daoist Ancestor, named Xiangji Temple.

Inside the temple, a young man wearing a Daoist coronet but dressed in a Buddhist kasaya, with a jade pendant hanging from his waist, sat on a meditation cushion. Beneath the slightly trembling cushion, something was being suppressed.

With each breath he took, he dissipated his own Daoist cultivation, helping those heroic spirits and wandering souls to clear the path to the capital of the dead, Fengdu, regardless of the passing millennia.

The young man raised his hand, wiped away his tears, and murmured, “Accumulating external merits, my heart is without flaw, a true Daoist am I.”

There was a series of “tuk tuk tuk” knocking sounds. Someone was using a sword sheath to strike the door.

The visitor was the monk Jiang Xiu, who had also recently advanced to the Fourteenth Realm.

In a place called Mount Gushe, there was a “youth” who had never left the mountain since his childhood. He had silently practiced cultivation using a Daoist scripture, and after confirming that he had indeed entered the Fourteenth Realm, this youth, who repeatedly told himself he would venture out once he was one realm higher, always went back on his word, telling himself to do it next time. He still had no intention of leaving the mountain, continuing to hide away, living as a woodcutter who chops wood and brews his own wine. “I don’t want to know you, and you don’t need to know me.”

After the rain, the new Fourteenth Realm cultivators emerged.

Within a century, there would be even more.

In an inconspicuous little Daoist temple, an old man named Chang Geng read late into the night, picking up a saltwater peanut and tossing it into his mouth, chewing it slowly. Across the table from him was a lazy young boy named Chen Cong, slumped over, complaining about the burdensome Daoist homework. The old man smiled and said, “Chen Cong, your talent for naming things isn’t bad, actually.”
One day in the future, the two would become one, traversing the world as a true Chen.

The cotton-padded youth didn’t take the rambling, bizarre words seriously. Now that the Taoist temple had changed its abbot, the rules were even stricter. Just thinking about having to get up early tomorrow to do his Taoist homework, Chen Cong sighed, reached for the plate, grabbed a handful of saltwater peanuts and tossed them into his mouth, but didn’t forget to leave a few for the old man between his fingers. Only then did the youth stand up, his smile mischievous, and said indistinctly, “Uncle Chang, take your time, I’m going to sleep first. Tomorrow morning, I’ll definitely help you sweep the courtyard, squeaky clean!”

The old man chuckled, “It’s still early, want to hear a story?”

Chen Cong hesitated, “But don’t let it be a ghost story, you know I’m a coward! Well, if it’s… *ahem*… a risqué one, it wouldn’t be impossible!”

The old man reached out and pinched the wick of the lamp, smiling faintly, “This story has everything.”

Occasionally, he felt a bit frustrated. This kid, his true nature was quite lively, quite deserving of a beating.

Chen Cong plopped back onto the stool, propped his chin in his hands, and said earnestly, “Uncle Chang, can you make up a story with me as the protagonist? You can be in it too, as the grand master!”

The old man nodded, “Alright, this is a fresh tale about Senior Brother Cui Chan and Junior Brother Chen Ping’an learning the Way together.”

(End of Chapter)