Chapter 569: Fleeing into the Depths of the Cold Mountain
Facing what might be the most powerful existence in this world, facing the most miserable possible outcome, Chen Changsheng felt fear, tension, unease... but still not despair.
He had already despaired when he was ten years old. He was used to it. He knew it was useless.
He looked at the middle-aged scholar by the stream in the distance, and his right hand gripped a button inside his sleeve.
The middle-aged scholar seemed to notice something. His gaze suddenly turned sharper, cold light like swords, a terrifying aura spreading across the wilderness.
With a thunderous roar, the stones in the air were forcibly pushed apart a little.
The wind and snow grew fiercer, the mountain path even colder. Accompanied by several crisp sounds, many cultivators' weapons fell to the ground!
Chen Changsheng found that his right hand was unresponsive, as if it were truly frozen stiff, unable to crush the button in his palm!
Relying on the endless array formations within the Cold Mountain, hundreds of Heavenly Stones descended once more.
The middle-aged scholar raised his right hand and flicked a finger toward the distant mountain path.
A formless, traceless aura pierced through the encirclement of Heavenly Stones and arrived at the mountain path.
Chen Changsheng's right hand was locked by the middle-aged scholar's qi, but his left hand could still move.
A very faint sound of metal friction was heard. The metal ball that had flown out of the scabbard expanded at an unimaginable speed.
In Chen Changsheng's left hand appeared an old umbrella.
A yellow paper umbrella.
A roar echoed across the mountain path. The stream water surged up, splashing into ten thousand flakes of snow.
That aura struck the surface of the yellow paper umbrella.
An unimaginably violent force traveled along the umbrella's ribs and reached Chen Changsheng's body.
Chen Changsheng, like a small stone struck by a hammer, flew backward with a whistling sound, slamming heavily into the hard cliff face!
Dust and smoke billowed, then gradually settled.
A clear human-shaped imprint appeared on the cliff, along with a pile of stone debris, but Chen Changsheng was nowhere to be seen.
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Chen Changsheng was able to break free from the middle-aged scholar's qi lock and vanish in such an unimaginable way, all thanks to the button he had been holding in his palm.
That was no ordinary button. It was a Thousand-Mile Button.
Back in the National Academy, when Luo Luo encountered that demon clan assassin, she had used a Thousand-Mile Button, but it was blocked by the Heavenly Net.
The Heavenly Net was the Demon Lord's weapon. Although its power was long gone, it was precisely able to counter the Thousand-Mile Button.
Now, the Heavenly Net should be in the hands of the Great Zhou court.
Today in the Cold Mountain, Chen Changsheng encountered the master of the Heavenly Net. He used the Thousand-Mile Button to flee, but instead of being blocked by the Heavenly Net, he was blocked by a huge stone.
He should have already left the Cold Mountain's range by now, joining Mao Qiuyu and the King of Linghai at the foot of the mountain, but he was still in the mountains.
The thousands of stones suspended in the sky sealed off the entire Cold Mountain, so he couldn't leave.
That was a boulder like a small hill, lying right across the mountain path ahead.
Chen Changsheng's face was deathly pale. His internal injuries erupted, and a mouthful of blood sprayed onto the stone.
That distant finger flick from the middle-aged scholar was faintly superior to the sword of Zhu Luo he had seen in Xunyang City.
If not for the yellow paper umbrella, he would surely be dead by now.
Even so, a tear appeared on the surface of the yellow paper umbrella.
Chen Changsheng looked at the bloodstains on the stone, confirmed there was no smell, but still couldn't rest easy. He grabbed a handful of dust from the ground and covered it, then dashed upward along the mountain path.
In past battles, he rarely fled, let alone abandoned his companions. But today was different, because he had no chance of defeating the middle-aged scholar, not even of holding him back for a moment. And he was very clear that the middle-aged scholar's target was himself. The farther he fled, the safer his companions would be.
So he fled, with unwavering determination.
He activated the Burning Sword, burning his true essence recklessly, racing toward the peak of the Cold Mountain at an unimaginable speed.
Under the cover of night, a dragon of dust rose among the mountains, instantly reaching several miles away.
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By the stream and on the mountain path, all was silent.
People looked at the cliff face where the dust had settled, at the impact mark left behind, and were greatly shocked. Tang Thirty-Six and Zhe Xiu did not look. They only stared at the middle-aged scholar by the stream, even if their faces were pale and fear gripped their hearts, knowing they might die the next moment, they still stared fixedly.
The middle-aged scholar moved, walking upstream.
The Cold Mountain Heavenly Stone Array reacted, and hundreds of Heavenly Stones surrounded him.
Zhe Xiu and Tang Thirty-Six also moved at the same time, charging at the middle-aged scholar. They knew full well they were no match for him, but it was obvious he was after Chen Changsheng. He was surely going to pursue Chen Changsheng now, so every moment they could delay was a moment gained...
They didn't manage to hold back the middle-aged scholar, but they didn't die either.
Far from Snow Old City, in the human world, the middle-aged scholar's time was precious—at least more precious than their lives—so he ignored them.
Zhe Xiu and Tang Thirty-Six had no way to keep up with the middle-aged scholar's pace.
The middle-aged scholar seemed to walk slowly, but instantly appeared among the distant peaks.
The most terrifying thing was that he was carrying those hundreds of Heavenly Stones with him as he walked.
Those Heavenly Stones possessed unimaginable weight, now all bearing down on the middle-aged scholar, yet they couldn't slow his steps for even a moment.
A heavy rumbling sound echoed through the mountains, like thunder. Countless cliffs collapsed, and mountain paths fractured.
This scene was eerie, shocking, fearsome, and full of power.
With the departure of the middle-aged scholar and those Heavenly Stones, the wind, snow, and pressure by the stream and on the mountain path instantly vanished.
With a boom, the stream water shook free from the ground, shooting hundreds of feet into the sky, then falling like rain.
The cliff, mountain path, and grassland trembled violently. Muffled groans sounded continuously.
In the woods, the persimmons that hung like yellow lanterns all fell to the ground, whether ripe or green, smashing into a mushy pulp.
Just like the corpses and flesh by the stream.
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That huge stone still hung silently in the air, very close to the ground, as if resting, like a small hill.
The middle-aged scholar stood on the opposite cliff, reaching out and grabbing from afar. The hill-like stone flew over and landed in his hand.
Compared to this hill-sized boulder, he seemed tiny, almost completely hidden.
A mountain resting in his hand—this sounded somewhat absurd, but it was real.
A cold wind suddenly rose among the night-shrouded cliffs, blowing away the dust on the stone's surface, revealing the bloodstains beneath that had not yet fully dried.
The middle-aged scholar lowered his head and sniffed at the spot. His expression remained indifferent, but he slowly closed his eyes, as if intoxicated.
"My son was indeed not wrong."
The middle-aged scholar opened his eyes, looked at the bloodstains on the stone, and revealed a faint smile, looking very satisfied.
The landscapes on his face gained a bit more brightness, a touch more vitality.
The next moment, those landscapes darkened by several degrees.
Because he raised an eyebrow.
—Not yet fully ripe, but it should be enough.
The hidden injuries left from that year should be fully healed.
He could finally shed the heavy burden and continue toward the ultimate realm of true freedom.
Thinking of this, thinking of the thousand long years, even he couldn't help but feel some emotion.
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(Next chapter at eight in the evening.)