Central Tongye Continent.

This season should be one of flourishing life, where rain nurtures the hundred grains, and clarity and purity reign. Alas, as in the past year, the tender, silken toon shoots before the rains are left unpicked, and countless verdant tea mountains gradually lie desolate, overgrown with weeds. Every household, rich or poor, is devoid of the fragrant aroma of pre-rain spring tea.

The Northern Jin Kingdom had long enjoyed peace, but tragically found itself in a strategically vital, and therefore contested, region. Previously, a distance was kept from the Yao family iron cavalry of the Great Quan Dynasty, separated by the eight-hundred-li Pine Needle Lake and the Jinhuang Mountain Divine Abode, but a cataclysm changed everything. All strategies and diligent governance became fleeting clouds. The Northern Jin Kingdom was no longer a kingdom in truth; its vast lands lay broken and shattered. The Southern Qi, north of the Great Quan Dynasty, fared little better. In the end, only the Great Quan Dynasty, whose emperor had long remained unseen, was left, with a feudal lord acting as regent and the empress participating in governance behind a curtain. It continued to fight against the demonic armies from the desolate wilds, yet remained without hope of victory, retreating step by step, the Yao family cavalry diminished to a tenth of its former strength.

The old capital of Southern Qi had become a garrison for the Moon-Bearing Mountain army camp. The Great Quan Dynasty had also lost most of its territory, its border troops nearly wiped out. Armies from various prefectures could only retreat to the capital region, and it was said that the army camp would relocate once the renowned Mirage City was captured.

The demonic armies from the desolate wilds, having landed on the western coast of Tongye Continent in the early years, divided into more than thirty army camps, each with a specific target, methodically assaulting the deeply rooted immortal mountains. Generally, they advanced along two routes, spreading from west to east and pushing from south to north. They did not place much importance on the human dynasties and vassal states along the way, merely inundating and destroying them. There was no attempt at surrender or appeasement; cities fell, people died, and then were refined by the demon cultivators under Bai Ying, the Bone Throne Great Demon, into armies of skeletal soldiers, using the dead to kill the living, ultimately leading to death for all.

Above the old mountains and rivers of the Northern Jin Kingdom, six streaks of rainbow light suddenly halted above a vast expanse of golden clouds, then plunged rapidly towards the earth.

A great wind from the heavens whipped at the temples of the six figures, all of whom were young in appearance, three men and three women.

They broke through the cloud caverns, their vision suddenly opening up.

Among them was a black-robed man, his hair tied back with a snow-white ribbon.

Descending from the heavens to the mortal realm, he resembled a banished immortal the most.

Below the sea of clouds was a towering city, its ramparts grand yet riddled with damage.

It was the seat of a prefecture, one of the few remaining major cities of the Northern Jin that had not yet been plundered, nearly a lone city standing against the tide.

The city’s mountain and river grand formation was even more fortified than the capitals of many vassal states. It was said that this was because two transcendent masters, experiencing the mortal world, resided within the city: a Golden Core guest proficient in formations, and a Nascent Soul cultivator of considerable skill. They had contributed greatly, barely managing to defend the dilapidated city. But this was not the fundamental reason. What truly allowed the city to survive was that a Celestial Realm great demon from the army camp had been unexpectedly ambushed and killed not far from here by Xun Yuan, an Ascension Realm cultivator sitting in the Celestial Canopy, overseeing the Three Enclosures and Four Symbols Grand Formation. Consequently, some great demons considered this place unlucky and were unwilling to show their faces here.

If not for Xun Yuan and Jiang Shangzhen, those troublesome ghosts from the Jade Decree Sect, who relied on the continent’s fortune-gathering grand formation to specifically target the army camp’s Celestials and Ascension Realm demons, Tongye Continent would have fallen even sooner. Xun Yuan’s realm was high, and he treated the entire continent as his miniature world, making several Ascension Realm great demons quite wary. As for Jiang Shangzhen, although he was only in the Celestial Realm, his natal flying sword was far too vicious and insidious. He never sought trouble with Ascension Realm cultivators, nor was he willing to engage in desperate battles with those in the Celestial Realm. Relying on the advantages of timing, terrain, and popular support, he specialized in slaying Jade Purity Realm demon cultivators, wielding a power equivalent to one and a half realms.

Under his sword, a Jade Purity Realm cultivator, who could have single-handedly achieved the merit of wiping out half a kingdom, would either die or regress in cultivation.

The Throne Great Demons Yangzhi and Fei Fei, after returning from the seas between Treasure Bottle Continent and North Gobi Continent, specifically sought traces of Xun Yuan and Jiang Shangzhen in the Celestial Canopy.

Yangzhi had engaged in an all-out battle with Xun Yuan, both suffering injuries. After that, Xun Yuan became even more elusive.

Only Jiang Shangzhen continued to occasionally strike down from the heavens, targeting the mortal realm. Fei Fei attempted to follow the trail several times, intercepting his retreat, but Jiang Shangzhen had countless illusions and his escape methods were incredibly elusive, making it impossible to kill him.

In contrast, the Mountain Lord of the Great Subjugation Academy primarily focused on protecting the mountain and river grand formations of the dynasties and academies, delaying the advance of the desolate wilds.

With the successive destruction of Mount Taiping and the Fuji Sect, Tongye Continent no longer possessed the Three Enclosures and Four Symbols Grand Formation. The heavens had changed, benefiting the demonic forces. Xun Yuan and Jiang Shangzhen found themselves in the desolate wilds, and Xun Yuan, especially, in the late part of the previous year, had been ambushed and attacked by Yangzhi and Fei Fei in concert. Rumor had it that Xun Yuan had already fled Tongye Continent, escaping into a secret realm in the seas, followed by a “little girl with pigtails.”

The black-robed man, holding a long sword, first shattered the mountain and river grand formation with one strike, then cleaved apart several incoming offensive magical treasures with another.

Within the city, a Golden Armor God, venerated with incense in the Martial Temple, strode out of the doorway. Seemingly reminded by an immortal master not to leave the temple, the heroic spirit, once a loyal and righteous figure of the kingdom, still raised the precious blade imbued with the incense of hundreds of years, taking the initiative to confront the invaders. Rising into the air, he was met by the black-robed man’s natal flying sword, which cracked his golden body. The Golden Armor God, his body covered in a dense web of cracks, roared and, gripping his blade with both hands, heavily stomped in the void, slashing at the young sword immortal whelp. But the flying sword circled around again, and the golden body shattered with a resounding crash, sending golden rain falling upon the human city.

The other five demon cultivators landed within the city. Although the city’s protective formation had not been completely destroyed, it ultimately failed to prevent their forceful entry.

One demon, a pure martial artist over ten feet tall, landed and surveyed his surroundings, choosing a direction and charging straight through the many city wards and markets. Walls large and small, buildings of various kinds, were smashed open by his charge. Those unlucky enough to be in his path were crushed into a bloody pulp, their corpses gone without a trace. He continued to smash until he reached the outer city wall, then changed his route, using his resilient body as a blade to bisect the city, taking pleasure in his destructive rampage.

A sword cultivator chose a densely populated area, walking slowly. Everywhere he passed, within a hundred zhang radius, he absorbed the souls and essence of the living, turning them into shriveled corpses.
A Demon Clan entity had taken a fancy to the City God Pavilion. Suddenly, it manifested its true form as a colossal serpent, three hundred zhang in length, its scales gleaming, instantly generating miasma that corroded wood and stone. It coiled around the entire City God Pavilion, then rammed its head against the upper reaches of the pavilion, shattering a spirit-infused plaque bestowed by the monarch of Northern Jin. It ignored the spells and heavy offensive treasures hurled at its body by refining masters. The City God and his subordinates, the Night and Day Guardians, along with the underworld officials, mobilized troops and dispatched a multitude of Yin creatures to hack and slash at it, but the great serpent remained unconcerned.

A maiden in a verdant green dress, slender and graceful, formed a sword gesture with her hand and summoned her Natal Sword, the “Peacock Screen.” Behind her, like a peacock spreading its tail, appeared eighty-one resplendent sword lights crafted from peacock feathers. The feathers radiated brilliance, exceptionally dazzling. Each slender sword light had flower plumes, each with a pair of eyes like those of a woman, swirling and creating even smaller flying swords. This was her sword’s innate divine ability, to condense the gaze into divided sword lights. Finally, the sword light flashed and vanished, leaving countless emerald streaks in the air. She headed straight for the state prefecture’s official residence. The buildings on either side were swept away by the dense sword lights, leaving nothing but dust and debris, obscuring the sky.

Another female sword cultivator, resembling her in appearance, stood atop a city wall where armored soldiers were gathered, her feet resting on a sword of vibrant colors.

Yu Si landed on the rooftop of a grand and influential family’s high-rise building. Unlike his companions, he did not engage in indiscriminate slaughter. He was merely brought here by friends to relax and find some amusement, having traveled from the Southern Qi capital. The other five were all old acquaintances.

The sword immortal seedlings who had fought alongside him in the Jia Shen Camp were also his friends, although they were not originally very familiar with each other.

Beneath Yu Si’s feet were scattered cities and towns, large and small, that had yet to be ravaged and destroyed by war. State capitals were rare, and even rarer were the surviving state capitals of large nations like Northern Jin. Most were remote prefectures and county towns of vassal states, used by the military camp cultivators for practice, and they had to compete for the privilege.

Yu Si sat on the rooftop, his sword across his lap, glancing at the chaotic mansion, ignoring it.

From the Sword Qi Great Wall being cleaved in two and the cities “ascended” to the Fifth Heaven, to the opening of a path at the old site of Upside-down Mountain to pave the way for the army at sea, it had taken two or three years longer than expected to conquer the continents of Floating Cloud and Tung Leaf in the Great Harmony World. Otherwise, the Desolate World should not be occupying half of Golden Armor Continent, but should have already seized the entire Treasure Bottle Continent.

The losses at the Sword Qi Great Wall were too severe, exceeding the original projections by thirty percent, according to the Jia Zi Camp. In reality, Yu Si knew the truth: it was more like forty percent.

One thread moved the whole, and the ferocity of the Sword Qi Great Wall battlefield was far beyond that.

The established strategy of the Jia Zi Camp, to divide the troops into three groups, was true, but it was only a small group of top-tier combatants, such as Liu Cha and three or four other demon kings, leading a portion of the army to contain the Pāṭaliputra Continent, merely going through the motions. As for Floating Cloud Continent, it had to be consumed, but there was no rush for Golden Armor Continent. The original main attack route was to push north from Tung Leaf Continent, capturing Treasure Bottle and Northern Evergreen Continents in one fell swoop. Then, in at most four years, to quickly swallow and assimilate the mountain and river fortunes of the southeastern Tung Leaf Continent and the southwestern Floating Cloud Continent, especially Tung Leaf Continent, which should have changed hands last year and become part of the Desolate World’s territory.

Jia Shen Camp was not the leader of the sword cultivators. The young man in wooden clogs once made an analogy: the Desolate World army pouring into the two continents was like scattering beans into tilled fields.

Initially, before the division of troops, the momentum was overwhelming, but compared to the vastness of the continents, the forces were still too small, requiring a constant stream of reinforcements to fill the holes in the two continents’ territories.

After that, it was like doing what Master Zhou called “transplanting rice seedlings in the paddy fields.” The two continents could not be treated as a place to drain the pond to catch all the fish. After the initial shock and awe, they had to switch to appeasing the fragmented dynasties, attracting the surviving mountain cultivators, and striving to transform part of the human forces of the two continents into the Desolate World’s northern expeditionary forces within ten years. The focus was on those desperate rogue cultivators, the pure martial artists scattered in the Jianghu who were frustrated and unfulfilled, the cowardly officials, and all sorts of characters. They should be gathered into a military camp, and one or two people should be selected to enter the Jia Zi Camp, and their opinions should be valued.

This would enable the Desolate World, having conquered Treasure Bottle and Golden Armor Continents, to gain a firm foothold. At most, they would hand over Floating Cloud Continent and half of Golden Armor Continent, returning them to the Great Harmony World in exchange for Northern Evergreen Continent.

At that time, the Desolate World would hold Tung Leaf, Treasure Bottle, and Northern Evergreen Continents.

As for the so-called return of Floating Cloud Continent, the Jia Zi Camp had already planned a means to have numerous demon kings join forces to completely sink the continent. The Desolate World would not obtain any of the continent’s fortune, and the Great Harmony World would only recover countless fragments, like broken porcelain. Just repairing the old mountains and rivers of the continent closest to the Desolate World’s invasion point would consume immense energy, resources, and morale from the Central Earth Literary Temple.

Yu Si knew these shocking secrets because of his special status, far from being as simple as a Jia Shen Camp cultivator or a Moon-Supporting Mountain sword immortal seedling.

A female sword cultivator changed her mind and flew towards Yu Si.

Her long sword was of excellent quality, drawing a captivating rainbow-colored sword light in the air.

Her name was Xian Zao. She and her sister, Yin Su, were a pair of sword cultivator sisters. Although they were not listed among the hundred sword immortals of Moon-Supporting Mountain, they were direct disciples of the Desolate World’s great sect, Cold Moon City, and female officials of the Snow Frost Division. Despite her youthful appearance, she was actually a female cultivator over three hundred years old.

Cold Moon City was one of the sects under the command of the great demoness Fei Fei. In the past, Fei Fei and Yang Zhi, the co-lord of the Yue Luo River, fought each other for many years, and the six divisions of female cultivators in Cold Moon City, including Snow Frost and Willow Branch, contributed greatly.

Xian Zao’s transformed human form was a delicate woman with a pointed chin. She lifted the corner of her skirt, performed a curtsy, and called out, “Young Master Yu Si.”

Yu Si did not get up, but simply smiled and nodded.

The Desolate World had a strict hierarchy. Too much etiquette would be counterproductive.
After retracting her sword, Xianzao sat not far from Yu Si, yet dared not approach too closely. Cupping her face in her hands, she gazed at the chaotic city, murmuring, “Young Master Yu Si, I’m growing weary of this slaughter. How can the Vast World have so many cities? Capital cities, provincial cities, prefectural cities, county cities… so many cities, even more people. Fortunately, they are so timid, scaring themselves half to death before offering any resistance. At first, I was delighted, thinking I wouldn’t have to risk my life as I did on the Great Wall of Sword Qi. But after so much killing, wave after wave, it’s become sickening.”

Yu Si chuckled, “This is the Vast World. Prosperous. As long as there are no wars, no major droughts, floods, or locust plagues, people live in harmony, rarely engaging in life-or-death struggles. That’s why there are so many of them. It’s quite different from our homeland.”

The Wilderness, before the Great Ancestor of Mount Tuoyue revealed himself, was an era of ten thousand years of chaos.

Truly chaotic times, with great demons rampant across the land, to the point that there was no concept of “indiscriminate killing.”

Xianzao pointed to a spot within the city, asking, “I’ve seen these archways again. They’re everywhere. My sister and I don’t recognize the characters on them. Young Master Yu Si, you’ve studied and understand the Vast World well. What are they for?”

The written language of the Wilderness was ancient, said to share a common origin with that of the Vast World, yet diverging and evolving separately. But because of this shared origin, even if tenuous, the life-bound characters of the Confucian Sages were still greatly feared by all demons. About a thousand years ago, a script known as “Water Cloud Script,” created by Master Zhou, “the Literary Ocean Under Heaven,” gradually began to circulate in the Wilderness.

Yu Si explained, “These are unique to the Vast World, used to commend men and women of great learning and high morals. I read in a book that a sage here once said, ‘We suffer great ills, and virtuous customs are fading. If there is even one good deed, it should be publicly honored.’ Roughly, it means that archways can be used to celebrate virtue. In the Vast World, when a family erects such an archway, their descendants will bask in glory.”

Xianzao was puzzled, “These people sound formidable, but after all these years of war, they don’t seem to be of any use.”

Yet she had encountered some odd characters. An old crone with white hair, holding a cane, stood at the entrance to her family’s ancestral hall, unafraid of death, even if she would ultimately die like a tattered piece of cotton. She had also seen an old man in a Confucian robe, facing imminent doom, resigned to his fate, dying at a desk piled with books, holding a child by each hand, urging them to “speak loudly.” He listened to the trembling cries of his descendants, perhaps a family motto, perhaps words from a sage’s book?

Regardless, the old man’s expression at the moment of death was calmer than that of many cultivators who eagerly offered up treasures and immortal money, or emperors and generals prostrate on the ground.

But what was the point? Xianzao saw no point. Old or young, they all died.

Many places that the military camps had deemed “winnable,” battlefields, defense lines, passes, with tens of thousands of brightly armored elite cavalry and infantry, were mere show, crumbling at the first touch.

Many formidable fortresses were breached after only a few attacks.

The armor was too new, the veterans too few.

However, some Immortal families with the “Zong” designation, and the elite troops of seven or eight dynasties, did cause some trouble for the Wilderness army.

Especially the attack on a place called Mount Taiping, which resulted in heavy casualties, wiping out the entire force of two military camps, forcing them to dispatch two more large armies.

Yu Si was caught between laughter and tears. It was difficult to explain the usefulness and uselessness of such ephemeral things to her. They served to educate and guide the hearts of the people, but were of no benefit in fighting. In peaceful times, each archway was priceless, but in chaotic times, they seemed worthless.

Yu Si watched as an old cultivator with the aura of a Nascent Soul finally lost his patience, leaving the protection of the formation to engage with Yin Su and the others. Yin Su had killed too many along the way, deliberately showing it to him. That pure martial artist had even torn off several heads, casually throwing them at the formation, causing ripples like blood splattered on a wall. As for the one who had revealed his true form as a giant python, he had returned to human form, seizing two city god spirits and pressing them against the outer wall of the formation, crushing their golden bodies bit by bit.

Xianzao was content to have chatted with him for a while. She stood up, apologetically saying, “Young Master Yu Si, I’m going to go kill some more, or my sister will accuse me of slacking off and nag me for ages.”

Yu Si waved his hand, smiling as he reminded her, “Still, be careful of those two Earth Immortal cultivators of the human race. Don’t let your guard down just because you’re a Golden Core sword cultivator. Human cultivators have many tricks when they are alive. And when they decide to die, they can be quite decisive.”

Xianzao nodded vigorously.

Young Master Yu Si, despite his noble status, was always so gentle and kind, his words so tender.

Yu Si watched Xianzao’s figure as she departed on her sword, still not planning to take action.

He had entered and exited the battlefield countless times at the Great Wall of Sword Qi, earning much merit and suffering little, except for that one time, which had been quite severe.

After breaking through the Great Wall of Sword Qi, the Wilderness’s advance in this unfamiliar world had slowed slightly. But it was like two Nascent Soul cultivators laboriously defeating an extremely troublesome Golden Core sword cultivator, then easily cleaning up a group of scattered and disheartened lower-realm cultivators, finding it easy, even boring.

Yu Si stood up, looking down.

A young man in brocade robes and jade belt, who could be described in books as having a face like jade, was hiding by a window in his study, looking at him.

Even more interesting was a young man in coarse clothing, who, upon seeing the celestial sight of Xianzao flying back and forth on her sword, rushed out, climbed onto a nearby rooftop, mustered his courage, and asked in a trembling voice, “Are you an immortal master from the mountains, come to save us?”

Yu Si smiled in the elegant language of Tongye Continent, “I don’t understand your Northern Jin official language.”

Unexpectedly, the young man immediately switched from the official language to the elegant language, “Immortal Master, can I cultivate immortality with you?”

Yu Si shook his head, “I am a demon, not an immortal master. I am not here to save people, but to kill them.”

The young man was stunned.

Yu Si waved his hand, “Hurry and hide. Endure for ten or twenty years, maybe you can survive.”
The young man’s face abruptly changed, his eyes burning with fervor. “I know the location of the hidden wealth and treasures in this manor! I’m willing to guide you! Can I follow you from now on?”

Yu Si smiled faintly. “Of course, lead the way. I can indeed bestow upon you a meteoric fortune. After such a world-shattering event, it’s only natural for the old order to be replaced by the new.”

He was free anyway.

Besides, he recalled a certain saying regarding the account-log clogs. When would the hearts of the people in this newly conquered continent of the barbaric world truly settle? It would be when all those who survived the war believed that there was no turning back, no chance to correct their mistakes. Even if these people were to return to the Restful Earth, they would find no path to survival, for they would surely be hunted down later. Only then would these people be willing to be used by the barbaric world, becoming hounds that bite more fiercely and kill more ruthlessly than the demon cultivators. For example, within a kingdom, a minister would assassinate the ruler in the imperial court; the various departments would nominate someone to die. The same principle applied within a family, especially in the ancestral hall, forcing someone to commit a heinous act. In the mountain sects, disciples would kill their elders, and brothers would kill each other, everyone’s hands stained with blood.

All the rules and etiquette so painstakingly established by Confucianism would collapse. Everything would be torn down and rebuilt, and on the ruins, the concrete meaning of morality for the next thousand years would only be the rules established by Master Zhou.

It was said that the clogs were not only following Master Zhou now but had also received a bestowed surname.

Yu Si landed on the ground and, with a flick of his hand, brought the young man, who felt as if he were floating on clouds, to his side. Deliberately ignoring the sweat pouring down the other’s face, Yu Si walked slowly and turned to ask with a smile, “Is there anything you desire? Perhaps a woman you never dared to dream of before? Or someone you want to kill, like a wealthy person you hate the most? Tell me everything you most desire and want to kill, and I can help you.”

The young man gritted his teeth and nodded. “I don’t want anything; I think everything should belong to you, Master. I wouldn’t dare to want a single thing. But I want to kill two people!”

Yu Si asked curiously, “Who are they?”

The young man following Yu Si gnashed his teeth. “One is called Han Chengyi, the young master of this house. The other is Han Shuyi, Han Chengyi’s older sister, who is a woman returning home for a visit.”

Yu Si smiled. “Do you have a deep-seated hatred for this brother and sister?”

It was evident that this man was a servant of the manor, perhaps even a serf from a hereditary household.

The young man was silent, then shook his head. He clenched his fists, his body trembling, and said with his head lowered, “I just want them to die! One was born with a silver spoon, and the other is a shameless slut!”

Yu Si stopped, forcing the man to raise his head and meet his gaze. The young man was drenched in sweat.

Yu Si smiled faintly. “A villain of the Restful Earth is a good person of the barbaric world. Rest assured, you won’t die. I will also help you fulfill your wishes. It’s just that with me by your side, I’m afraid you won’t be able to let go and do the things that were once considered evil. Before you kill, you can do more of the things you’ve only dreamed of doing. If killing two isn’t enough, then kill more. I’ll wait for you here. Don’t worry about keeping me waiting; I have plenty of time.”

As he spoke, Yu Si took off a small, exquisite yellow silk pouch from his waist. Upon his touch, misty vapors immediately emerged, and a black dragon coiled around the pouch. In an instant, mist filled the air.

Yu Si gently shook the yellow silk pouch, and the black dragon fell to the ground, transforming into a burly man with dark eyes. Yu Si then tossed the pouch to the young man. “Keep it safe. From now on, this dragon slave will be your protector, teaching you immortal techniques and helping you become a lord of this Tongye Continent. Not only will Han’s descendants have to bow before you, but even the remnants of former emperors and mountain immortals will have to lower their heads and address you as… Right, what’s your name again?”

The young man received the pouch with both hands, his expression excited, his voice trembling. “Master, my name is Lu Jianxin. Jian, as in ‘to inspect.’ I once had an older brother named Lu Jiaoguang.”

Yu Si smiled knowingly. “Jiao, ‘to teach,’ for uprightness and illumination; Jian, ‘to inspect,’ for diligence and alertness. These are both good names. Your father must have sought them from a tutor for you?”

Lu Jianxin wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, “Master is truly erudite.”

Yu Si waved his hand. “Follow me in the future, do more and speak less. Spare me the flattery; it will be the death of you.”

Lu Jianxin dared not say another word. He bowed and hurried away, followed by the black dragon, which instilled both fear and sudden courage in the young man.

Yu Si planned to make this Lu Jianxin the master of this city, allowing the young man to experience the comfortable life of a local tyrant. He would also have the black dragon meticulously record the changes in the city’s customs over the years and give it to the clogs to view.

As for why Lu Jianxin harbored such deep hatred for the siblings, only heaven knew.

Perhaps it was on a bitterly cold winter day when he saw a young master clad in pure white fox fur admiring the snow, which made him feel even more inferior.

Perhaps he had long admired the woman, but one day, they happened to pass each other, and the woman said nothing, but her casual glance spoke volumes.

These were not strange occurrences, and Yu Si didn’t care about the truth. What truly amused Yu Si was that, at that moment, Yu Si saw in Lu Jianxin’s eyes and heart the young man’s heartfelt gratitude, admiration, reverence, and the kind of resolute determination to gamble everything, even his life. Lu Jianxin was clearly willing to indulge in a moment of unbridled pleasure, striking down all the long-standing grievances in his heart. The barbaric world needed these pitiful people whose emotions easily swung to extremes; the more, the better. These people would probably become the kind of grave-fillers that the clogs spoke of. Master Zhou once said with a smile that there were too many scholars in the Restful Earth who were fond of being hypocritical and acting like true villains, truly believing that their sanctimonious appearance was invisible to the world. In reality, one type harbored anger year after year, daring not to speak out, while the other type yearned to become that kind of person, so they were actually digging their own graves. Therefore, they had only themselves to blame for the fact that many people were now coming to fill the graves.

Yu Si suddenly raised his head.

There was a grand phenomenon in the world, rapidly spreading from a great distance, undoubtedly the great divine power of a Flight Ascendant Realm expert.

Otherwise, even Yu Si would not be able to clearly perceive that vast aura here.
A woman with crimson eyes appeared beside Yu Si and whispered, “Young Master, please leave this place for now. Xun Yuan of the Jade Tablet Sect was first ambushed by me and Yang Zhi, then chased by Xiao Xuan, and subsequently entered that hidden underwater secret realm, which was completely shattered. With no escape, Xun Yuan manifested his Dharma Body on the coast of the East Sea, intending to cleave the Tongye Continent in two, which may very well affect this area.”

Yu Si shook his head and said, “You only need to protect me and Xian Zao and the others. I want to see up close just how Xun Yuan will split the Tongye Continent.”

The throne-level demon, Fei Fei, nodded.

Yu Si frowned and asked, “What about Xiao Xuan?”

Fei Fei said, “That secret realm is very strange; it seems Xun Yuan temporarily deceived him, sending him to another world. Perhaps Xun Yuan’s escape this time is to deliberately draw Xiao Xuan away.”

She suddenly vanished, and after a moment, returned to her original position, her expression slightly changed. “Xiao Xuan has finally drawn his sword.”

Yu Si looked up, and in the sky above the East Sea of the Tongye Continent, a large portal opened in the firmament. Xiao Xuan, with a single sword strike, broke through the barrier of another world, thus ‘ascending’ and returning to the Great Harmony World. He then unleashed a magnificent sword light upon Xun Yuan’s ten-thousand-foot-tall Dharma Body, its momentum no less imposing than Bai Ye’s first sword at Fuyao Continent.

That sword light, with its unparalleled power, had the intertwined essence of water, fire, and lightning.

Fei Fei looked up and whispered, “The old thing is doomed.”

Yu Si laughed and said, “Compared to you, Xun Yuan is hardly old.”

Fei Fei smiled slightly, and then said, “I’ll go grab a few pieces of Glazed Golden Body for Young Master.”

Yu Si was about to shake his head, but Fei Fei had already darted away. After all, she was a throne-level demon, and it didn’t involve the fundamentals of the Great Dao, so Yu Si couldn’t just casually reprimand or stop her.

Besides, Fei Fei also conveyed the words “be careful” with her heart’s voice.

Yu Si remained calm, strolling leisurely through the mansion.

Suddenly, the river of time around Yu Si seemed to freeze for no reason.

Yu Si wasn’t particularly alarmed. The magic robe he wore now was a gift from Fei Fei and could withstand several full-force sword strikes from an immortal sword cultivator without him dying.

Moreover, once Yu Si’s robe was attacked by spells or flying swords, Fei Fei could arrive instantly, as long as she wasn’t separated by a continent.

Turning his head, he saw a handsome man dressed in a tall-crowned, golden robe, gently tossing the yellow silk bag in which the ink dragon was frantically thrashing but unable to escape, on a rooftop.

The man glanced at the robe Yu Si was wearing and smiled. “It’s rare to see something I want the moment I see it, but my little life is more valuable.”

Yu Si clasped his fist and said, “Greetings, Sect Master Jiang.”

Jiang Shangzhen raised a hand and waved it gently. “Nonsense, why so formal? It’s not easy for father and son to reunite. Just call me ‘Dad’. Remember to have that little servant Fei Fei massage your dad’s shoulders and legs in the future; that will count as some filial piety.”

Yu Si smiled wryly, paused for a moment, and asked, “What happened to the young man that the ink dragon slave was guarding?”

Jiang Shangzhen said with a grin, “Ah, his soul was swapped with that of a pretty boy. I reckon once the river of time disperses, he’ll be pretty dazed, wondering who he is, where he is, and what he’s supposed to do.”

Yu Si asked, “Sect Master Jiang isn’t going to save Xun Yuan, but instead, you’ve come here to chat with me?”

“Why save someone far away when you won’t even kill someone right in front of you? Once I, Jiang, get smart, even I don’t know what I’m thinking. How could you all possibly anticipate it?”

Jiang Shangzhen curled his lip. “Besides, this bastard son of yours is just a little good-for-nothing, yet that cheap servant Fei Fei was willing to give you her natal magic robe. I’m a coward. Killing you and losing a sword, it’s not worth it. So I can’t do anything to you. I’m already very satisfied with snatching this demi-immortal treasure yellow silk bag.”

Yu Si remained silent.

One of the divine powers of this robe lay in “locking swords,” which was even more profound than Du Mao’s sword-swallowing boat.

Yu Si had long wanted to use himself as bait, enduring Jiang Shangzhen’s sword, which was said to “cut down immortals with a willow leaf.”

Jiang Shangzhen stored the yellow silk bag in his sleeve universe, and the stagnant river of time returned to normal.

Yu Si asked, “Why don’t you go after She Yue or Dou Kou?”

One was among the young ten of several worlds, and the other was a candidate.

The key was that, unlike him and Tan, they didn’t have a throne-level demon as their protector.

Jiang Shangzhen smiled without speaking.

In a study, a gorgeously dressed pretty boy was wrestling with a young man. Lu Jianxin, who originally had the strength to beat the Han family’s young master to death with his bare hands, since he no longer had the ink dragon as a guard, was now being straddled and pummeled, his face covered in blood. The “pretty boy” lay on the ground, wincing in pain, regretting it in his heart. He knew he should have gone after that fair-faced hussy first… And that “Lu Jianxin,” relying on his muscular build and great strength, was full of tears, but his eyes were exceptionally fierce. While cursing in an unfamiliar voice, he was beating the “himself” on the ground to death. Finally, he used both hands to forcefully strangle the other’s neck.

Jiang Shangzhen smiled. “Alright, Sister Fei Fei, there’s no need to hide. You’re already so good-looking; why don’t you dare to be seen?”

Fei Fei actually “walked out” from Yu Si’s magic robe and said to Yu Si, “Young Master, it’s just a secret magic illusion, roughly equivalent to a Nascent Soul cultivator’s strength. Jiang Shangzhen’s real body isn’t here.”

Jiang Shangzhen nodded and said, “That’s right. I never make a move without a 100% chance of success, and don’t come to kill me without a 100% chance of success either. I came here this time just to say hello to you two. The day Sister Fei Fei puts the robe back on, remember to have Young Master Yu Si obediently hide in the military tent; otherwise, it’s a matter of course for me to beat my son.”

As Jiang Shangzhen’s final illusion dissipated, the yellow silk bag at his waist didn’t disappear with it. Jiang Shangzhen wasn’t that foolish. He was just teasing Yu Si earlier. This latest, and possibly last, Sect Master of the Jade Tablet Sect looked somewhat dispirited. He turned his head to look towards the East Sea. The Glazed Golden Body of an Ascension Realm Great Cultivator began to collapse. At the moment of its demise, no matter how magnificent the scenery, there was ultimately the truth of “it’s better to live shabbily than to die well” lingering in his heart, making people feel uncomfortable.

Jiang Shangzhen murmured, “I’ve cursed you for so many years, you old codger. Your death really saddens me. It’ll be hard to get a scolding from now on.”
Jiang Shangzhen, with naught but a head remaining, its spiritual light yet undimmed, gazed down upon the master and servant pair, each stranger than the last. A faint smile graced his ethereal features. “The old scores and the new, one for bullying my woman, the other for scheming against Old Xun. Jiang will settle them with you slowly, in time. I have all eternity to dedicate to this.”

It was the time of Shuangjiang, Frost’s Descent.

A time when the Yang retreats into the earth, Yin Qi begins to congeal, and autumn’s dryness harms the fluids. One ought to guard against the cold and clear inner heat.

Thus, a custom arose in the villages at the foot of the mountains: the eating of persimmons. It was said to strengthen the bones and prevent chapped lips in winter.

After a light rain, beneath a persimmon tree laden with lanterns of fruit, stood a young woman, perhaps seventeen or eighteen. Plump of figure, with a round face, she wore simple cotton clothes. She stood on tiptoe, straightened her back, and wielded a withered branch, dislodging five or six persimmons to the ground. Discarding the branch, she bent to gather the crimson fruit, cradling them in her cotton dress.

Finally, she squatted before a boundary marker, chewing on a persimmon, her eyes studying the carved inscription. In the center, bold characters proclaimed: “Officially Established Boundary of Yongning County.” To the left, smaller characters denoted the dynasty and year.

She found it remarkable that a mere stone, overlooked by travelers, could define the borders of two territories.

In her homeland, such a thing was not possible. There was no such system, nor could there be. The fighting was too fierce, the tempers too volatile; nothing lasted.

Since arriving here, she had wandered far and wide, collecting the official systems, silver and copper coins, scholarly tools, the “little Nine Marquis,” and the texts of the Hundred Schools. She had an eye for everything. In war-torn cities, the grander the estate, the more often its gates were torn down, and she could freely scavenge. Such treasures were scattered everywhere, more plentiful than corpses. Eating persimmons required knocking them from the tree, but collecting these once-valuable items was far easier.

Now, this Tongye Continent, its northern regions were less stable than the south.

The Immortal Peaks of Tongye were the least numerous of the Nine Continents of the Vast Expanse. There were mostly just larger sects, comparatively speaking. Still, on any vast continent, for a mortal peasant to seek out an Immortal was more difficult than seeing the Emperor himself. Of course, there were those pitiable souls ensnared by Mountain and River Arrays, lost in the bewilderment.

In these troubled times, the more remote and spiritually barren a place in Tongye Continent was, the less likely it was to suffer calamity. Many small, isolated kingdoms, even those with a few so-called Mountain Immortals who were relatively well-informed, had long wished to flee with their ancestral halls in tow, caring little for others. Those who had ascended the mountains to cultivate Dao had long severed worldly ties, preferring to feast on clouds and drink dew, unburdened by earthly concerns.

Had she not been so fond of wandering, and unconcerned with military merits, heavenly treasures, and auspicious geomantic sites, the people of Yongning County might have gone decades without encountering a traveler such as her.

She came from a distant land, yet she was no mere foreigner.

Having finished her persimmon, she picked up a branch, stood up, leaned against the boundary marker, crossed her leg, and lightly scraped the mud from the sole of her shoe.

Earlier, outside the county’s Confucian temple, perhaps due to the time of Frost’s Descent, officials and scholars had gathered to recite blessings: for plowing, for weaving, for freedom from wind and rain. “Benefit your descendants, fill my granaries…”

She understood nothing of it, having learned only the common tongue of the Vast Expanse. She knew neither the elegant language of Tongye, nor its various dialects and local tongues. Still, she watched the learned men, officials and those who aspired to be, gathered together, seemingly dedicated to the people’s welfare. It was quite a scene. Though, was that official perhaps too portly? His face was flushed, and his neck almost vanished. Shouldn’t learned men be lean and refined, like Master Zhou?

A group of children, riding bamboo horses, played a game of mock marriage, carrying a sedan chair for the bride.

They glanced at the woman standing beside the stone, but paid her no heed. The little wife was unfamiliar, and not particularly pretty.

She continued her solitary journey.

Following the subtle traces of spiritual energy, she finally found an Immortal sect, a small one, a rarity in Tongye.

However, the cultivators seemed to be away, so she did not call. Eventually, hundreds of li away, between two misty peaks, she saw a great net of sorcery, cast by Immortal cultivators to capture birds. It was like fishing in the mountains, driving the prey into the net. Several cultivators, riding the wind, startled the flocks, while others, still unable to fly, raced through the mountains, creating a commotion to flush out the birds.

The woman in cotton clothing sat quietly on a low tree branch, watching the scene.

It seemed that the Barbarian Expanse, having arrived in Tongye, was also in such a state: birds constantly startled, flying headlong into the net.

She wondered if those Mountain Immortals who had once regarded the mortal kings as puppets would envy these low-level ants when death approached.

Perhaps they would not. In the moment of life or death, even those so-called enlightened beings would likely be in a state of confusion.

She suddenly wanted to find someone to talk to. She did not expect them to speak the language of the Barbarian Expanse, but at least the common tongue of the Central Continent. It was not easy to find such a person. The city god temples and mountain shrines in these small places were useless, surely only knowing the local language of Tongye. Sadly, the Confucian scholars were either dead on the battlefield, or had retreated to the Jade Decree Sect and the Tongye Sect. The Mountain Lords of the great dynasties were certainly dead. The merchant families, ever slippery, were too adept at earning money and avoiding trouble. It was difficult to catch them.

As for the higher realm cultivators, she had been fortunate enough to meet one, a hermit hiding in the deep mountains, unaffiliated with any sect. She had ignored him, too lazy to act. Previously, she had visited a small Immortal residence, guarded by Golden Core and Nascent Soul Immortals. The conversation had not gone well; she had killed them with a single punch each. It was not bad; when she had first landed, she had killed a Jade Purity realm cultivator – she had forgotten to ask his name – with a single punch as well.
Several young cultivators of the Lower Five Realms, both male and female, were descending the mountain in her view. One of the female Immortal Teachers held freshly picked chrysanthemums in her hands. The frost had withered a hundred flowers, yet only this plant flourished.

The cotton-clad woman rested her hands on a tree branch, showing little interest in the female Immortal Teachers, but more so in the chrysanthemums. Her thoughts drifted far away. She had heard of a place in the vast world known as the Blessed Land of a Hundred Flowers. Among the Gods of a Hundred Flowers, it seemed this flower held a high position. It possessed countless elegant names, each pleasing to the ear: Frost Bud, Golden Smile. As for “Essence of the Sun” and “Lunar Cycle,” such descriptions were rather peculiar. The cotton-clad woman found these odd things rather interesting. In her early years of cultivation back in her homeland, she always felt that the grand world held endless fascinating things, and thus she was determined to travel and see them. As for fighting and killing, they held little appeal to her.

The reason she had previously “returned from the heavens to the mortal realm” in the Wildlands and then come to this Tongye Continent was because the Lotus Hermit, a Great Demon King of the Throne, had been slain by Dong Sangeng’s sword. After all, to some extent, she considered herself a neighbor of the Lotus Hermit, although the distance was vast. In the Wildlands, the three moons hung in the sky, but the moons only appeared close to each other from afar. Only that one named Yaojia would occasionally visit her abode.

As the young cultivators walked through the mountains, someone recited that the autumn clouds in the moonlight did not fall into the water, and the pines on the icy cliffs burned to ashes. Then, others joined in with poetic recitations, some from books and some from their own minds.

The cotton-clad woman couldn’t understand any of it and felt a bit annoyed. In the past, she would have endured it, as she was always a passerby on her journeys. However, she had just been thinking of finding someone to chat with, so she felt irritated. When she felt irritated, she habitually raised her hands and slapped her cheeks, creating a loud noise that caught the attention of the sharp-eared young Immortal Teachers. Some cast unkind glances, treating her as a brigand; others seemed to dislike her appearance; and still others looked at her as if she were a netted bird, which she found most annoying.

But when she finally saw a round-faced little girl staring with wide, curious eyes, the cotton-clad woman grinned, feeling much better. Unable to communicate verbally, she raised her arm and waved, as if to greet the little girl.

The little girl quickly waved back vigorously at the unfamiliar woman, but as her senior brothers and sisters turned to look at her, she immediately put her hands behind her back and looked up at the sky.

The cotton-clad woman’s eyes narrowed with amusement. Round-faced girls were the most adorable.

The group ultimately said nothing, unaware that they had just skirted the gates of hell, and returned to the mountain.

The cotton-clad woman remained with her hands resting on the tree branch and said, “You must be Jiang Shangzhen?”

A man stood on a treetop, smiling and nodding. “The Moon Borrower girl has a round face, exceedingly beautiful. That’s why I changed my mind.”

The cotton-clad woman continued to gaze into the distance and said, “It’s not like you can just kill me if you want to.”

Jiang Shangzhen sat beside her, waiting with her for the moonlight to descend upon the world, and asked, “Have you ever seen Chen Ping’an?”

She thought for a moment, “Saw him once. Not as handsome as you.”

Jiang Shangzhen laughed heartily. “That’s not true.”