Chapter 34: Above the Thread
Nearly a battlefield beheading.
The female Daoist, a new throne of the Wildlands, was pierced straight through the neck by a spear, then flung backward, shattering the war drum. Her delicate hand barely managed to stabilize herself as she first formed a hand seal to steady her spirit. Then, astonishingly, she shifted sideways, letting the iron spear slice through half her neck and tear away a large chunk of flesh.
The female Daoist willingly damaged her own Dao body for this purpose—to buy a thread of life for the younger junior behind her. With one hand, she steadied her wobbling head. Golden light flowed down from her Dao crown, cascading like a three-tiered waterfall, enveloping her entire body. Truly worthy of being one of the eighteen new thrones, her physique was resilient enough, and she had plenty of tricks up her sleeve.
Her delicate hand swiftly turned, grabbing the iron spear that was filled with abundant fist essence and true meaning of thunder magic. She employed a profound ancient Suppression Technique, preventing the spear from continuing its mischief and turning the small world within the rain cage upside down.
This move by the Hidden Officer was truly vicious. If she had been even a thread slower, the spear shaft would have shattered the young woman’s upper body, completely cutting off her life force.
The female Daoist’s palm stung intensely, crackling as if she were gripping a burning coal, searing her flesh and emitting a rancid stench.
Still, she dared not easily pull the spear from the rain cage’s chest. She extended two joined fingers and, at the cost of her own Dao cultivation, peeled off three pure grains of golden light from her Dao crown, sending them into the young female cultivator’s Niwan Palace, Shan Zhong acupoint, and Lower Dantian, protecting her soul from leaving the body. Even so, at this moment, the rain cage’s chest, along with its multicolored Dharma robe, was mostly destroyed. Given such a heavy blow, it was fortunate that the robe’s quality was decent enough to protect its master’s heart meridian. Otherwise, even if the female Daoist intervened, she would have had no choice but to light a life lamp.
The young female cultivator’s face was the color of gold, barely clinging to life. Yet she still forced herself to ask through mental voice: “Sister Rouyi, how is the situation on the battlefield?”
Rouyi felt both pity and admiration, saying: “Your efforts were not in vain. You have successfully captured the Hidden Officer’s primordial spirit.”
She signaled Rain Cage not to speak, instantly pulled out the spear, and casually tossed it aside. The nearby yao race scattered like birds and beasts.
At the same time, Rouyi waved her hand, summoning the scroll of flowers and birds that had a large hole torn in it, wrapping it around Rain Cage’s body.
She took out a bottle of pills obtained from some ancient Golden Immortal relic, poured out half, first helping Rain Cage swallow them, then she herself chewed up seven or eight pills.
Rouyi’s methods came one after another. The deathly aura on Rain Cage’s face receded somewhat, restoring life. She smiled wryly: “Fingers.”
Rouyi, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, still rolled up her sleeve and gathered all ten severed fingers scattered on the ground into her Dharma robe’s sleeve, saying gently: “I’ll keep them safe for now. Don’t worry, they can be reattached.”
Carefully examining Rain Cage’s qi flow, seeing it was finally stabilizing, Rouyi breathed a sigh of relief, both shocked and fearful. This surnamed Chen was truly ruthless.
Rain Cage, wrapped in the scroll, had all her fingers severed and a hole in her chest that was just barely stopping bleeding and regenerating flesh. Though her Dao foundation was damaged, her eyes were bright, and her voice trembled as she laughed: “Isn’t there a saying over in Haoran: ‘The clay pot breaks by the well, the general dies on the battlefield.’ Since meeting the formation means mutual harm, there is always life and death.”
If she could die on the drum, it wouldn’t be too stifling.
Rouyi glared at her. “You’re quite open-minded. Young as you are, say less unlucky words!”
Rain Cage said via mental voice: “Senior, go help Wang Zhi quickly.”
Rouyi glanced at the pale red celestial phenomenon. The female Daoist’s feet were constantly surveying the earth patterns, and she finally reached a very utilitarian conclusion: “Need to wait a little longer.”
Afraid Rain Cage might misunderstand, Rouyi explained: “Wang Zhi still has strength left but isn’t willing to exert full force. I’m afraid his intentions are impure, deliberately trying to drag me into the water. His resolve to kill the Hidden Officer is unstable. If the situation changes, he’ll seize the chance to slip away, leaving a mess for me to handle.”
Rain Cage immediately understood, but she couldn’t help feeling some sorrow. Senior Rouyi was still being tactful. What she was really worried about was that if Wang Zhi failed to kill the Hidden Officer, he would turn around and kill her, Rouyi. One must know that Wang Zhi’s Dao title was “Great Sacrifice”; wasn’t everyone else just a sacrificial offering?
Rain Cage felt this worry was not unfounded. Putting herself in her shoes, if she were Rouyi, wouldn’t she also suspect Wang Zhi of defecting?
Would the mountain-top cultivators of Haoran, fighting side by side in the Wildlands, have such thoughts?
Different hearts for the same matter.
Rouyi sensed Rain Cage’s low spirits, felt pity, and rubbed the younger woman’s head. Rain Cage, in the formation, was dealing with a certain Haoran flying ascension realm cultivator who had joined the battlefield.
They weren’t afraid of him slaughtering on the battlefield; they were afraid he would cherish his Dao power and just watch from the sidelines, refusing to act.
Rain Cage was willing to act, which was icing on the cake.
But this was not the true killer move that Rouyi and Wang Zhi had planned.
What was most awkward at the moment was that Rouyi didn’t know how to deal with that spear.
Earlier, when she used the Suppression Technique and pulled out the spear, she had already used refining methods to try to destroy the spear, but to no avail. She had to temporarily toss it far away. After saving Rain Cage, Rouyi tried again, sacrificing a handleless white blade, an ancient heavy treasure. Two consecutive masters, Huang Luan and Rouyi, had never been able to greatly refine it into a life-bound object, only barely managing a small refinement to force it to recognize its master.
This object looked like a streak of snow-white blade light. It struck the spear, sparking countless flames. After a while, the spear was only slightly worn. Rouyi quickly calculated that without half an incense stick’s worth of continuous “blade-to-blade” contact, it would be hard to succeed.
If she just threw the spear out of the battlefield, it would seem like boosting the enemy’s morale and damping her own.
That Hidden Officer truly ran his fists like a god, able to use the fist essence to leave a message on the spear. So when Rouyi grabbed the spear shaft, she heard that murderous voice, as if he had sent her a message.
“He who destroys my spear dies first.”
Rouyi paid no attention to this threat.
After thinking for a moment, Rouyi brought out two Dao grounds. One was “Jade Xiao Court,” which she had greatly refined into one of her three life-bound objects, used to accommodate Rain Cage and let her hide inside; it was also a talisman to protect the junior. The other was used to imprison the spear. Rouyi activated the Dao ground’s formations, using her mind to remotely drive the alchemy furnace, and her divine sense to command the Three Flavors True Fire, attempting to refine the spear inside the furnace.
Rouyi had already stored that white light in her sleeve. The next moment, a white snake coiled and flexibly wrapped around the female Daoist’s wrist, like she was wearing a white jade bracelet.
Rain Cage found herself in a secluded courtyard, seemingly a small part of a broken relic of the ancient Thunder Department forbidden area.
She circulated a bit of spiritual qi, enduring the piercing pain in her qi mansion, riding clouds and mists, floating to the roof ridge to overlook the battlefield.
On the battlefield,
A great bronze tripod covered the earth, simultaneously imprisoning both the Hidden Officer and the commander Wang Zhi. Inside, it seemed empty, but was actually filled with the same sound. Each time it hit the wall, circled, intertwined, and hit the wall again, repeating over and over—“Hidden Officer”—the sound growing more and more majestic, like a death warrant.
The golden-armored Wang Zhi was completely unaffected. Those “Hidden Officer” sounds were like tens of thousands of wasps in a barrel, densely clustered in a narrow space, humming and buzzing, fast as flying swords.
Only “stinging” the Hidden Officer.
A sinister voice rang in the female Daoist’s heart lake: “Daoist friend Rouyi, how long will you stand by idly?”
Perhaps blocked by the great tripod, Wang Zhi’s words were somewhat indistinct.
Rouyi, with one hand wearing a jade bracelet and the other holding a whisk, smiled in reply: “I guarantee I won’t miss the battle opportunity.”
Inside the tripod, Wang Zhi looked at the young Hidden Officer. The other party actually had the leisure to stand still, motionless, letting tens of thousands of “flying swords” dart about, just looking up at the patterns on the inner wall of the bronze tripod.
The spear had been thrown away, and the one in the blue shirt was empty-handed, but he had learned Cao Ci’s fist moves on the spot. His golden body was impregnable. All the waves of “flying swords” created by the sound were shattered by fist essence within a few feet.
His calm and composed demeanor gave Wang Zhi the illusion of a Buddhist dragon elephant sitting high on the Dharma seat—if the seat didn’t move, the earth didn’t move.
Chen Ping’an finally withdrew his gaze and looked back at Wang Zhi, who had reunited into one.
They locked eyes.
Not only were the Wildlands yao greatly shocked, but even those on Haoran’s side at the mountain peak were startled by that domineering spear-throwing technique.
Huang Mang, the young emperor, heavily slapped the railing and couldn’t help cheering.
It seemed like that once widely circulated and then banned travelogue, full of amorous descriptions, where the wandering knight Chen Ping'an went from one beauty to another—valiant female knights, seductive fox spirits, lustful ghosts trying to steal yang, goddesses offering themselves for a night of passion—all appearing one after another, chapter after chapter with such romantic words... How many pages had readers folded, secretly tearing out a few?
And from Inverted Mountain, there was also a saying about the “Second Shopkeeper Who Cherishes Beauty.” Plus, those ferry managers who had been to Spring Pennant Studio always liked to describe the young Hidden Officer as elegant and handsome. This always made people suspect that this last disciple of the Confucian Sage was a philanderer. But to be fair, if that were true, it could be understood—after all, young men are not dissolute without being young.
Who could imagine that he was actually someone who mercilessly destroys flowers?
That one spear by the Hidden Officer broke through the scroll, shattered the whisk formation, pierced through the female Daoist’s neck and the young female cultivator’s chest, and broke the war drum.
He had undoubtedly entered the eleventh realm.
Ding Aoyou asked with a smile: “The ancestral iron spear is gone; if that female Daoist confiscates it, won’t General Guo feel pain?”
Guo Jinxian said calmly: “A general’s weapon destroyed on the battlefield is its best fate.”
It was better than this ancestral heirloom falling into the hands of some prodigal son in the future, being sold off cheap.
Earlier, when the two armies faced each other, the Wildlands yao army was like a swarm of ants, while Haoran’s banners were like bird wings, armor like fish scales.
As Chenguan’s cavalry first launched the charge, the formation on the Wildlands side, disrupted by the Hidden Officer, began hastily reforming.
Guo Jinxian was a military general and naturally didn’t underestimate Rouyi, but he paid more attention to that colorful-robed female cultivator. Guo Jinxian knew best the importance of such cultivators in battlefield combat. Her drumming clearly expanded the soldiers’ courage, condensed morale, and boosted spirit. According to Ding, the national teacher, it could even nourish the Yang spirits of the terrestrial immortals among the yao.
A woman in a Confucian robe, quiet until now, stood beside the noble Luo Guoyu. Her name was Gao Chu, a female scholar who held the title of Academy Sage. Gao Chu came from a top-tier noble family in her continent, with family knowledge and talent. Since childhood, she excelled at sand-table simulations. She had once studied at the military ancestral court of Golden Armor Continent, well-versed in military strategy. But after leaving the Golden Armor Continent battlefield, her Dao heart had been damaged, and she never recovered.
To put it nicely, she had witnessed the battlefield’s flying flesh and piled bones, which hindered her Dao heart.
To put it bluntly, Gao Chu could only “talk on paper” and couldn’t truly integrate into the battlefield.
Luo Guoyu asked via mental voice: “Do you think the Hidden Officer’s methods are brutal, bordering on indiscriminate killing?”
She had a firm gaze and shook her head: “I only regret that the Hidden Officer didn’t kill harshly enough. I hate even more that I can only watch from the sidelines for now.”
She wasn’t even as good as that colorful-robed woman in the enemy camp—at least she could drum after being speared through the throat.
Luo Guoyu was quite surprised.
On the battlefield, yellow sand filled the sky. The figures of the two confronting sides were no longer visible, but countless points of light lit up around them, like ten thousand hanging lanterns.
Huang Mang’s face darkened as he silently recited a name.
Next to the young emperor, a blurred figure of a golden-armored general appeared.
She was the manifestation of martial fortune, with the divine title “Golden Snake” and true name “Lingye.”
This showed how strong Chenguan Dynasty’s national fortune was, and how abundant its martial virtue.
Even the Great Li Dynasty, when it “manifested sanctity” on the southern battlefield of Bottle Gourd Continent, relied on the Huai King Song Changjing.
She looked ahead, taking in the battle situation at a glance, and said: “The Hidden Officer’s primordial spirit has been fixed—it’s the skill of that drumming woman.”
It turned out that near the grand banner, amid the sound of pipa, strange phenomena occurred. On the distant battlefield, the Hidden Officer was first covered by a strange bronze tripod.
A moment later, the bronze tripod instantly shattered, and countless fragments exploded outward, killing large swaths of surrounding yao.
But in an instant, the Hidden Officer, now in the open, was entangled by nearly ten thousand rays of light around his neck, arms, and legs. Under the sunlight, they gleamed. The long lines connected with the severed limbs and remains of those who had died on the battlefield, spreading a dense web. The Hidden Officer was like a green bird trapped in the center of a spiderweb.
Those rays of light originated from the bodies of yao who died directly by the Hidden Officer’s penetration of their formation, or indirectly from the scattered fist intent and spells during his confrontation with Wang Zhi. The two types of rays differed in thickness and brightness.
Only the Hidden Officer, whose name was called by the entire Wildlands, could have such a special effect.
More and more rays converged toward the blue-shirted figure.
Ding Aoyou’s Dao heart shook. Here it comes! This must be the Wildlands beasts’ trump card against great cultivators.
Just like their side surely had countermeasures specifically against flying ascension realm cultivators.
The old national teacher’s mind raced, thinking about how to help the Hidden Officer escape. He should have been the one to suffer this calamity, and he would most likely have been doomed. It was the Hidden Officer who took the disaster.
Huang Mang frowned and asked: “Lingye, what do we do?”
The female general with the divine title Golden Snake said: “Unless a fourteenth realm cultivator intervenes, using great divine powers to take the karma upon themselves, the Hidden Officer can only save himself. A flying ascension cultivator would be useless. If an immortal rashly comes to help, they might become another binding line.”
Guo Jinxian tried to see the bright side: “The Hidden Officer is a sword cultivator and a martial artist, so it should be okay?”
Whether a military cultivator or a pure martial artist, killing enemies on the battlefield, while not without restrictions, was still much better than the cultivators of the three teachings, hundred schools, and heterodox paths. The latter, when on the battlefield using spells and divine powers, the more they killed, the more accumulated karma, large and small, bearing karma, invisibly reducing yin virtue. Even if cultivators had ways to dissolve or avoid calamities, it was still troublesome, with hidden dangers on the future path of cultivation, unknown when a Dao enemy would come to collect the debt.
Ding Aoyou’s mood was heavy; the old national teacher wasn’t as optimistic as Guo Jinxian. “But the Hidden Officer also has the identity of being from the Confucian scholarly lineage.”
The martial fortune spirit said calmly: “If not for this identity, why would he stay at the Sword Qi Great Wall? Why appear here?”
This was not said lightly, nor was it an indifferent comment from the mountain peak far from the battlefield, but a sincere and pure recognition.
The implication was that no matter how many identities he had, Chen Ping’an’s foundation was that of a scholar.
Huang Mang lifted his foot and looked at the old deerskin boots on his feet.
Near the grand banner, the female Daoist confirmed that Rain Cage’s injuries had stabilized. At least this junior wouldn’t have to dissolve on the spot.
Rouyi asked softly: “Rain Cage, how is your Dao heart?”
If Rain Cage had been beheaded by the Hidden Officer right before her eyes, how would she explain it to Guan Lane?
Even if this junior’s Dao heart was shattered by this spear, losing her spirit, fearing to enter formations again, and avoiding battle, it would be a great loss for the Wildlands.
Rain Cage, temporarily hiding in that Thunder Department Dao ground, though her soul was extremely weak at the moment, said cheerfully: “Excellent!”
Rouyi couldn’t help but inwardly praise her infinite potential.
She only hoped that the Wildlands could hold on long enough for more Rain Cages to grow.
Rain Cage hesitated.
Rouyi self-mockingly said: “Every family has its own difficult scripture. Don’t worry, I know the stakes.”
For example, Rouyi’s regard for Rain Cage—was it just the appreciation and favor of a senior for a junior?
Having such a heart, perhaps softened, was influenced by the soul of that female cultivator from Yuzhi Ridge?
Rain Cage’s grandfather, the great yao Guan Lane, had made this clear, telling her to be careful, to be “vigilant.”
The grand banner standing in the heart of the yao army flapped loudly, and the golden characters embroidered on it seemed to sway with it.
Rouyi knew that Wang Zhi had finally decided to go all out.
The Hidden Officer’s primordial spirit had been suppressed.
Strike while the iron is hot; opportunity knocks but once.
Wang Zhi naturally wouldn’t waste this rare chance. Once again holding his hands as if wielding a blade, he roared: “Die!”
The golden characters on the grand banner transformed into a pure golden light, disappearing in an instant, condensing in Wang Zhi’s hand into a Dharma blade.
He slashed at the Hidden Officer, cleaving down from above.
At the same time, Rouyi took a deep breath, silently mobilizing her five elements life-bound objects.
The spiritual qi in her many cave dwellings boiled, and purple-yellow qi rose around the female Daoist.
This new throne was finally going to personally enter the fray and fight the Hidden Officer head-on.
The Hidden Officer, bound in place, pulled hard with both arms but still couldn’t break those rays.
The blade light was dazzling. Wang Zhi’s one blade successively broke two kinds of “Martial God Golden Bodies” created by fist moves.
The long blade in his hand also shattered with the successful breach. Wang Zhi’s arms’ muscles split, and blood seeped through his golden armor.
Finally, it didn’t miss—it struck something solid. Though not the Hidden Officer’s flesh, Wang Zhi’s momentum kept rising, as if his Dao heart was no longer so empty. Switching to wielding blades with both hands, he began a fierce series of slashes at the Hidden Officer’s wide-open gate. His body spun, and whenever the blades in his hands shattered, new blades would appear. He was determined to chop the Hidden Officer into pulp.
To hell with the Hidden Officer! To hell with the eleventh realm!
After shattering over a hundred blades in succession, the blade momentum didn’t decrease but increased. Dazzling blade light swirled between the golden-armored god general and the blue-shirted Hidden Officer.
Surge of divine will and abundant spiritual qi wildly poured into the blade bodies, making each blade Wang Zhi delivered contain one to several spells and divine powers.
Wang Zhi didn’t need to use any thoughts. After two hundred blades, each blade was naturally perfect.
Exhilarating, truly satisfying. Wang Zhi felt refreshed, his Dao heart clear, entering a state of ethereal darkness, stepping into a legendary indescribable, mysterious realm.
Intuition told Wang Zhi that if he successfully killed the Hidden Officer today, removing this thorn in the heart of the Wildlands, it would be his opportunity to advance to the fourteenth realm.
He must behead him, then lift the head, step on the headless corpse, and announce to the world!
“The one who killed the Hidden Officer is Wang Zhi of the Wildlands!”
Provided that surnamed Chen left a complete corpse.
The figures on the battlefield were already indistinguishable.
But those rays trapping the Hidden Officer still spread, floating in the air like endless water plants drifting in the river of time.
Rouyi turned into a rainbow and went to the sky above the martial ground. She took off her Dao crown, flipped her wrist, and condensed it into a “golden pill,” which she swallowed.
“Strike while the iron is hot; kill him while he’s down.” To be safe, she directly used her killer move, never allowing that slippery Hidden Officer any chance to escape.
Earlier, Wang Zhi had thrown two miniature meteor hammers, one in the sky and one underground. They had never shown any effect.
Until this moment, Rouyi silently chanted a spell formula, at the same time raising her hand, pulling the grand banner out of the ground and bringing it to her side. She wrapped it with her whisk, and the banner together with the whisk stabbed into the battlefield earth like a halberd.
The banner nailed into the earth, the white whisk coiled like a snake around a mountain, slowly rising.
In an instant, a magnificent pillar of light appeared between heaven and earth.
On the mountaintop, the atmosphere was heavy.
Huang Mang narrowed his eyes. Good heavens, these two throne beasts were actually mimicking a Heaven-Earth Connection? Were they trying to summon someone to “descend truly” here?
Ding Aoyou had already moved to an open space, his true body standing firm. In an instant, his yin spirit left his body, his two fingers forming a seal, his feet pacing the Dipper and stepping on the Gang. In a flash, black mist billowed. The yin spirit poured clear water from his sleeves and scattered white reeds, as if paving a road and cleansing the street. Soon, the yin spirit seemed to be standing at the entrance of an unplaque’d ancestral hall. Behind him, yin energy pervaded an area of several feet, heavy curtains revealing indistinct inner scenes. Sounds were somewhat noisy—languid and seductive giggles, hoarse and old voices, and some sharp whistles.
This hall had no turbid evil aura, giving no one a feeling of gloom, but rather a clear and spiritual quality.
In addition, Ding Aoyou’s yang spirit also appeared on the mountaintop, spreading out its palm, cutting open the palm with a finger, raising its arm high, and throwing out two red blood lines. In midair, they manifested the shapes of a mountain range and a river, briefly passing over the battlefield and disappearing. The yang spirit muttered words, as if praying in a dialect, telling the group of ancient yin spirits inside that hall where they could pass and where not to cross...
This was Ding Aoyou’s specialty—a yang spirit’s outward body to penetrate the darkness and pave the way, combined with the yin spirit’s performance of the “Chu Ma Immortal” ritual.
This practice was heavily taboo even in Baibai Continent, let alone in the Wildlands. But Ding Aoyou didn’t care about the price his true body must pay.
Inside the hall, several spirit immortals sighed simultaneously, as if trying to persuade Ding Aoyou.
But the old national teacher’s mind was made up. He didn’t hesitate to sacrifice his own lifespan, only bowing and thanking them, begging them to “emerge from the mountain” and all attach themselves to his body.
The white reeds on the ground, like mountain ranges, seemed to be gently stepped on, making rustling sounds.
Like miniature rivers and lakes, water traces appeared on the surface, and extremely fine footprints appeared.
Everyone on the mountaintop heard a mental voice at the same time.
“That young emperor, persuade the old national teacher not to act so recklessly. An immortal cherishing his life should not throw it away for nothing.”
This immortal’s “Chu Ma” spirit possession clearly required them to cross mountains and wade through great rivers and lakes.
Once the ritual was complete, Ding Aoyou’s cultivation would skyrocket, climbing a major step, roughly able to maintain a flying ascension realm for one incense stick’s time.
But the price for Ding Aoyou was certain realm regression.
That was assuming the old man could even return alive from the battlefield.
Between flying ascension realm cultivators in Dao duels, winning and killing were worlds apart.
Historically, fierce battles lasting hours or even days and months with neither able to do anything to the other were common.
Some newly risen fourteenth realm cultivators wouldn’t dare claim they could definitely kill a strong flying ascension.
Today’s battlefield was certainly an exception.
Not only that. After making these preparations, the old immortal’s yang spirit outward body visualized a Heavenly King statue, holding an object in its hand—a spirit tablet.
On it was written in large characters the name and origin: “Chen Ping’an of Lizhu Cave Heaven.” Beside it, smaller characters wrote auspicious phrases like “Longevity and Eternal Prosperity.”
A living shrine!
Immortal Ding Aoyou was using all the essence, qi, and spirit of a yang spirit to create a living shrine for the Hidden Officer.
Simply put, the aged national teacher wanted to buy a thread of life for the still-young Hidden Officer.
For this, he was willing to pay the price of dying in his place.
Huang Mang said: “National Teacher Ding, building a living shrine is correct, but there’s no need to rush the Chu Ma ritual.”
Ding Aoyou murmured: “In life, one must seek peace of mind.”
Huang Mang said: “I understand the sentiment, but it’s not appropriate for the situation.”
Ding Aoyou said nothing. He appreciated the young emperor’s good intentions.
For both public and private reasons, he, Ding Aoyou, could not stand by and let the Hidden Officer fall into danger without taking action.
Baibai Continent, with its flourishing trade and immense wealth, now had a reputation in the Haoran world that was probably only slightly better than Tongye Continent.
If the fortunes of the nine continents could each manifest as a “person,” then Baibai and Tongye would probably be sitting at the same table.
That was why Ding Aoyou and the Emperor had reached an agreement to follow Chenguan’s border army deep into enemy territory, voluntarily acting as bait.
Moreover, Ding Aoyou had no reason to shame the two sword immortal friends.
They had worked hard to make the Sword Qi Great Wall recognize “Baibai Continent.”
There was no reason to let the younger generation of sword cultivators at the Sword Qi Great Wall again look down on Baibai.
Baibai, which had always had extremely weak sword fortune, aside from the female sword immortal Xie Songhua who shone at the Sword Qi Great Wall, had two other sword immortals, Zhang Shao and Li Ding, both killed in battle at the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Ding Aoyou had twice warmly invited them to come out and serve as dynasty protectors, even willing to yield the position of national teacher, but both were politely declined. It was understandable—even Lord Liu, the God of Wealth, couldn’t persuade them to become family protectors, let alone others.
The reasons the two sword cultivators gave were similar: not that the emperor wasn’t benevolent to the people, nor that Lord Liu wasn’t generous enough, but that they were accustomed to a nomadic life and couldn’t bear any restraint.
Ding Aoyou, who described himself as “still having some face,” counted among his greatest regrets in life the fact that the few sword immortals who occasionally emerged from his homeland all felt they were “born in the wrong place.”
Just as Lu Zhi never considered herself a Haoran sword cultivator, saying her home was the Sword Qi Great Wall.
In the end, Zhang Shao and Li Ding quietly went to the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Even before Xie Songhua.
It was said that even when they got there, they didn’t like to say which Haoran continent they came from.
In the end, it seemed even the word “death” couldn’t restrain the two sword immortals of Baibai.
Huang Mang had no choice but to voice the guess in his heart: “Chen Ping’an might be pursuing a pure, new realm, a mysterious state. If National Teacher Ding goes over now, it might seem like help but could backfire.”
Hearing this, Ding Aoyou hesitated. If Huang Mang was right, wouldn’t he be repaying kindness with enmity?
Huang Mang quickly laughed: “I’m guessing. If I’m wrong, I take no responsibility.”
Ding Aoyou was amused despite himself.
But Huang Mang’s “no responsibility” was deliberately said lightly.
If Chen Ping’an died here today while coming to their rescue, the young emperor would not escape the fact of having “watched the Hidden Officer die.”
Not to mention whether the Zhongtu Confucian Temple would investigate, or whether the Great Li Dynasty would regard Chenguan Dynasty as an enemy—just the public opinion in the Haoran mountains would be unbearable for Chenguan.
On the battlefield, it seemed victory was decided, dust settled.
Those rays entangling the Hidden Officer gradually dimmed, finally dissipating one by one.
Only Wang Zhi remained, his golden armor shattered. Beside him, five blurry golden figures also disappeared.
The Wildlands commander now had no faceplate covering his face, revealing a handsome but ferocious face. He roared via mental voice: “Rouyi, finish him off completely!”
If the living were to survive, where was the Hidden Officer?
Had he really been chopped to pieces by Wang Zhi in one go?
Guo Jinxian stared wide-eyed, clenching his fists. Could the Hidden Officer be...?!
Ding Aoyou was the most confused, because the living shrine still floated in the hand of his yang spirit outward body.
Wang Zhi had indeed seen the “Hidden Officer” turn into a “mud” but it was pure gold.
In the pit on the battlefield, a golden lotus seemed to stand gracefully, slowly manifesting a rudimentary form of “Chen Ping’an.”
He had golden eyes.
He made no attempt to hide his sardonic expression.
He shook his sleeves, revealing a mirror with severe cracks on its surface—the Water-Stopping Mirror, borrowed for use.
He drew a talisman with one hand, and the ancient mirror disappeared.
He squinted at Rouyi and said to Wang Zhi with a smile: “Well, no more talking now.”
Rouyi, hovering in the air overlooking the battlefield, was shocked but also expected this—just as Wang Zhi said, the Hidden Officer was slippery and hard to kill.
From the pillar of light connecting heaven and earth, a figure in a blue shirt shot out, identical to the Hidden Officer as if carved from the same mold.
This “Chen Ping’an” replicated by the Heaven-Earth Mirror delivered a full-strength punch, smashing the golden-eyed original to pieces on the spot.
Only a mocking remark remained: “Oh, so my fist is this good. I wonder how high my swordsmanship will reach.”
In an instant, Rouyi’s Dao heart shook violently. Forgetting mental voice, she directly shouted to Wang Zhi: “Withdraw quickly...”
On the mountaintop, someone appeared.
He was barefoot, wearing a snow-white long robe, his two large sleeves fluttering and swaying.
Silent, holding a sword in hand.
If the previous Chen Ping’an with a jade hairpin, blue shirt, and cloth shoes seemed human, then the one who had just appeared seemed like a god.
Wang Zhi’s heart instantly went cold.
He was pierced through from the back by a sword.
Wang Zhi’s topknot was grabbed by a single hand, yanked hard, forcing his head back. He was forced to meet the gaze. The long sword lifted upward, cutting through this new throne’s chest. The blade emerged from his shoulder, then swept sideways, severing Wang Zhi’s head, casually tossed toward Rouyi.
A sword light suddenly rose from the battlefield, first passing through the headless Wang Zhi, then through the chest of the counterfeit, piercing through a layer of mirror beneath, breaking through the earth, cutting through the grand banner, shooting straight into the sky, shattering the pale red canopy. The sword light fell straight, smashing Wang Zhi’s head. The female Daoist used a fleeing technique, her form dissipating. The sword light carved an arc in the air, heading to the ancient Thunder Department relic. Rain Cage, sitting on the roof ridge, stared blankly at the sword light. The world turned pure white. She smiled bitterly, resigned to her fate, ready to submit.
Rouyi suddenly arrived, reached out and grabbed Rain Cage’s shoulder, swiftly shrinking the earth’s veins, only seeking to escape the battlefield, the farther the better. A sword light followed like a shadow.
Rouyi hastily tossed out countless golden talismans, each transforming into a female Daoist, each displaying divine powers, trying to block the sword light. The sword light shot forward, completely ignoring the illusions, far faster than those flashy spells and techniques. With ripples spreading, Rouyi was forced to reveal her true location, but she abruptly rose a few feet, still having her ankle severed by a sword light.
Just as Rouyi was in despair, the sword light was heavily knocked back by a sharp light, then dispersed by an unexpected water spell from elsewhere. In the sky, several gates seemed to open. One old throne-level great yao, holding a long staff, pointed it at the Hidden Officer on the ground, his fierce expression saying: “Brat, don’t be too arrogant!”
Another throne, long experienced in battle and very familiar with the sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall, quickly guided the fleeing female Daoist, thanking her. Rouyi held the young female cultivator in her arms. Seeing the old man, Rain Cage’s eyes reddened instantly, and she finally broke into sobs. The old man quickly supported her and said softly: “It’s all right.”
Fei Fei’s eyes were icy cold, staring fixedly at the young Hidden Officer. Enemies met, eyes blazing red.
And several more thick qi auras, no weaker than these great yao, had yet to reveal their true forms.
One by one, old and new thrones of the Wildlands appeared.
This scene, as it was back then. Someone once pointed his sword at the thrones.