It's You, Then!

A small grove.

Hurrying along.

Daoist Lingguang concealed his aura and fled through the mountain woods in a sorry state.

His topknot had come undone, his long beard was singed, and dust covered his fine robes. His horsetail whisk was reduced to a bare stick. He was a far cry from the transcendent immortal he had seemed before.

Every one of his magic treasures had been destroyed, and all his lifelong skills had been defeated, one by one, by Que Xin. Even his Daoist heart teetered on the brink of collapse.

"It's only been ten years. How did he get so powerful..."

"Master, oh, Master, what techniques did you teach him?"

Daoist Lingguang clutched his chest with one hand, overcome with grief. Scene after scene from his days of training rose in his mind.

While he studied alchemy, Que Xin climbed trees to raid birds' nests. While he studied formations, Que Xin bent over to catch grasshoppers. While he practiced the Martial Path, Que Xin rode a dog, waved a wooden sword, and shouted as he ran past.

He'd even called out, "Come on, enjoy yourself! We've got all the time in the world!"

Unable to bear it, he'd gone to complain to his master. His master had said that everyone had their own fate, that a brief moment of success meant nothing, and that he should wait a few years and see.

Encouraged by his master, he'd worked even harder at his cultivation.

Years later, Que Xin had become an expert in alchemy and formations, surpassed everyone at divination, and even rubbed him into the ground in the Martial Path.

Who could put up with that?

Lingguang certainly couldn't. In a fit of rage, he stole his sect's secret techniques, crossed from Northern Qi to Western Chu, and plunged without looking back into the Southern Border's hundred thousand mountains.

Over the past ten years, he had first cultivated supreme secret arts, then acquired the supernatural abilities of the Yellow Springs Dao, Demon King Hall, and Blood Sea Dao in the Southern Border. Having combined the strengths of four traditions, he had considered his divine arts to have reached Great Accomplishment. He would return to the True Heart Dao in Northern Qi and reclaim everything he had lost.

He'd never imagined he would be even less of a match for Que Xin. He had been forced to flee a thousand miles and seek another way forward.

"Senior Brother, this isn't how you cultivate immortality. You were too eager for quick success, and you've fallen into the demonic path."

"Stop at once. I'll send you into reincarnation, where you can cultivate your true heart in your next life. That would be better than stumbling blindly through this one."

"Senior Brother, you've lost your true heart. Don't persist in your folly..."

The voice of Old Daoist Quexin rang in his ears as though his pursuer were right behind him. Daoist Lingguang ignored him, cursing inwardly.

Thousand-Mile Soul Tracking, a life-taking aura.

The technique was common and unremarkable, not particularly profound. Even someone at the Innate Realm could wield it with ease. But now, it had locked onto him from a thousand miles away. It seemed there would be no escaping trouble today.

Without outside help, he was doomed.

Daoist Lingguang wasn't afraid of death. At his level, at worst, his body would perish; dying for good wasn't so simple. What he feared was Que Xin using secret arts to make him wish he were dead, leaving him unable to reincarnate.

Another quarter of an hour passed. The voice in his ears grew louder and louder. Knowing something was wrong, Daoist Lingguang dared not delay any longer.

He let out a low growl, and his body abruptly swelled. Four arms sprouted from his back, while another head grew from each shoulder. The skin between his brows split open, revealing vertical eyes. He had transformed into a three-headed, six-armed figure.

But he wasn't done yet.

With the supernatural abilities of the Yellow Springs Dao, Demon King Hall, and Blood Sea Dao reinforcing him, blood-red scars and demonic patterns appeared across his three-headed, six-armed body. Blood, baleful energy, death energy, and demonic energy formed a host of weapons.

His demonic body emerged, its might spanning heaven and earth. Countless strange phenomena appeared, and a domain of demons from beyond the world seemed to answer the call and take shape.

The sky split open, and space shattered in chunks. Its terror and oppressive might defied description.

"Que Xin, face me again and let us see who's stronger!"

His six arms shook, commanding the mountains to rise and fall. A great demon strode out of the domain beyond. Its five fingers pressed down, making the sky seem to collapse, while a searing current of air surged forth like the end of the world.

"Like a demon lord descended from the heavens, like a ghostly god risen from the Yellow Springs. Senior Brother, what a magnificent sight."

Old Daoist Quexin arrived as if by teleportation, astonished and impressed. "You've finally stopped pretending. You've become something other than human altogether."

"Don't get cocky!"

"Senior Brother, you misunderstand. I'm worried about you. Just look at yourself—you're neither human nor ghost, and your life force is in disarray. This body probably won't hold up much longer."

"Enough!"

An hour later.

A small grove, hurrying along.

Daoist Lingguang's body had collapsed. His primordial spirit fled like a stray dog, driven north by Old Daoist Quexin.

Old Daoist Quexin ambled through the air. With each step, it was as if he crossed a thousand miles in a single stride, drawing ever closer to Daoist Lingguang.

Just then, a point of light shot toward him and transformed into an ancient, unadorned treasure mirror, blocking Old Daoist Quexin from afar.

The mirror was neither gold nor jade, neither bronze nor iron. Its shape was archaic, its surface clean and pure. It was simple and unadorned, without carvings or decoration. Its face was a pale yellow, like aged wood.

Though small, the mirror weighed as much as a mountain. Old Daoist Quexin's expression turned grave.

"The Yellow Springs Ancient Mirror. So it finally intervened..."

At the same time, specks of light appeared throughout the surrounding world. More than a hundred gazes descended, over a dozen of them almost tangible. Each represented a major figure he would have to face with utmost caution.

Sensing that Daoist Lingguang's primordial spirit had vanished without a trace, Old Daoist Quexin sighed. "I've heard that the Yellow Springs Dao possesses a Yellow Springs Ancient Mirror that illuminates life and death, reveals the netherworld, and entangles the causes and effects of life and death. It has tremendous might. Seeing it today, I can only say the rumors were true."

"Very well. I'll let Senior Brother off with a lesson today. I'll come looking for him another time."

Seeing him back down, the Yellow Springs Ancient Mirror hovered in midair for a moment. Only after Daoist Lingguang could no longer be found did it slip into the void and disappear.

The surrounding gazes vanished one by one, accompanied by many dissatisfied grumbles and curses. They seemed disappointed that they hadn't gotten to see the two fight to the death.

Old Daoist Quexin sighed long and hard. "Alas, now that Senior Brother's gone, he's like a beast released from its cage, a trapped dragon returned to the sea. The world is vast. Where am I supposed to look for him? It's enough to drive a man mad..."

"It's enough to drive a man mad!"

Lesser Morality Temple.

Xiang Yuan sat cross-legged on the ground and regulated his breathing several times. The grogginess gradually faded.

He opened his eyes and looked outside through the temple's ruined roof. The world was dark, and dense drizzle drifted down. He hesitated, wondering whether to go back out and continue patrolling the mountain.

A cold wind blew in, chilling him to the bone. He couldn't help shivering.

Could there be a ghost?

Maybe Lin Baoyi, who had died.

"No, wait. This place may be small, but it's still a temple to Venerable Lord of Morality. A haunting in his temple would be ridiculous..."

"But no master is here to keep watch over the temple... Well, a gentleman doesn't stand beneath a dangerous wall. I shouldn't stay here."

With a solemn expression, Xiang Yuan stood up. Reassuring himself as he went, he hurried toward the temple gate, giving in to his fears.

Suddenly, a violent gust swept in and carried him to the very center of the temple. He tripped over a tattered cushion at his feet and fell on his rear right onto it.

A ghost!!

Xiang Yuan was horrified. His vision went black as heavy darkness mixed with blood-red light and demonic energy flooded in through his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes, gathering at the spot between his brows.

A cloud of black smoke appeared on Xiang Yuan's face. It became Daoist Lingguang's demonic form: a red face, sharp fangs, grotesquely twisted features, a vertical eye between his brows, and baleful light in his sinister pupils. He looked even more terrifying than a ghost.

After his body was destroyed and his primordial spirit gravely wounded, Daoist Lingguang knew the Southern Border was crawling with wolves. Apart from Old Daoist Quexin, countless demons were also watching. He didn't dare linger, so he used a secret technique to flee all the way here.

Just when he needed a body, one had appeared—a fresh, young one.

He proclaimed that Heaven had not forsaken him, that fate was on his side, and even thanked Venerable Lord of Morality, the master of this place.

Kid, it's you!

"Little constable, being chosen by me is a blessing you've earned over ten lifetimes. Hand over your body, and I'll make sure your name is known throughout the world. Then we'll owe each other nothing!"

Facing a puny Qi Refining Stage cultivator he could destroy with a wave of his hand, Daoist Lingguang—no, the Spiritual Light Old Devil—finally dropped all pretense and laughed arrogantly, flaunting the authority of the Yellow Springs Dao's Left Envoy.

"Ke ke ke ke—"