These words did not weigh heavy with slaughter, nor did they touch upon the Heavenly Dao, yet they precisely struck the one private matter Xuan Qing cared about least—and was least prepared for.
His detached state of mind, suspended high above the grand chessboard of Chaos, abruptly stalled. Xuan Qing, who had always been as steady as an ancient green mountain, who had passed through the opening of the heavens and Chaos without a change in expression, actually trembled violently—a truly rare thing!
In the depths of his heart, the smooth, wave-less surface of his Dao Heart lake suddenly rippled outward in layer after layer.
His thoughts fell into sudden disorder; his composure shattered. The chess path he had once held confidently in his breast, the countless strategies he had deduced, all fractured in an instant.
There came a soft click!
The black stone that had originally hung steady in Xuan Qing's fingertips lost all accuracy as his mind slipped. It strayed into a dead corner of the board and landed firmly in a fatal empty point.
One wrong move, and the whole board was riddled with flaws!
Across from him, Xuan Ming, who had been sitting quietly watching the game and waiting for a long time, saw his eyes suddenly brighten. In an instant, he seized this once-in-a-thousand-years opening!
The two had played against each other for long ages, knowing neither cold nor heat, counting no passing years. The game had been locked in a stalemate for eternity, victory and defeat impossible to decide, attack and defense balancing each other, forever an even match. For thousands upon thousands of years, neither had ever gained so much as the slightest edge.
Xuan Ming had lain in wait for a long time, bitterly lacking any chance to break the game. Now