Hope Entrusted

Moyan asked softly, "What price?"

She wasn't a core figure of the Qilin Clan and knew little of that matter from back then, so now was the perfect chance to voice her doubts.

"A vow." Moyuan's gaze grew distant. "Back then, Ancestor Shi Qilin, to preserve the last bloodline of our clan, made a vow with Yuanshi Tianzun, a personal disciple of Hongjun Dao Ancestor."

"Our Ink Qilin Clan was allowed to thrive on Qilin Cliff in Kunlun Mountain, under Yuanshi Tianzun's protection. But the price was that our clan's fortune would be bound to the Chan Sect, we could never set foot beyond the Kunlun Mountain Range, and we could no longer contend for the position of the world's protagonist."

Moyan stared at him in shock. "Such a thing happened?"

These secrets were utterly unknown to the younger generation of the clan.

"Yes." Moyan gave a bitter smile. "In name, it was protection, but in truth, it was a cage. Under the Heavenly Dao, our clan's fortune was sealed long ago, with no chance of turning things around."

He turned to look at Moyan and asked, "Do you know who the Daoist was that took that child away just now?"

Moyan shook her head.

"He was Yuanshi Tianzun's disciple, and moreover, the only First Disciple of the Three Pure Ones now—Xuanqing." Moyuan said slowly.

"What?!" Moyan was completely stunned.

"All of this was arranged by Ancestor Shi Qilin." Moyuan explained. "That child is the purest-blooded descendant in our clan, and my only offspring. Letting him follow a Mysterious Gate disciple both settles part of the Karma from back then and seeks a sliver of hope for him, and for our Ink Qilin Clan."

His voice carried a father's weight and resolve.

"The Heavenly Dao suppresses us. For the Qilin Clan, even birthing a Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal is as hard as reaching the heavens. Look at me—as the direct son of Shi Qilin and the clan leader, how many eons have I been stuck at the Zenith Heaven Golden Immortal realm? I've never been able to advance an inch."

Moyuan's tone was full of unwillingness.

"But Mysterious Gate disciples are different. Their roots are extraordinary, their fortune outstanding, and their future achievements boundless."

"That child, following him, might... might break the shackles the Heavenly Dao has placed on our clan and forge a brand-new path."

Having said this, Moyuan fell silent.

Giving his own flesh and blood to another as a mount—for any proud race, this was a disgrace.

But for the clan's future, and for the child to have a better destiny, he had no other choice.

Moyan fell silent too. She fully understood Moyuan's heartfelt intentions.

After a long while, she asked softly, "Will that child... understand our intentions?"

"He doesn't now, but he will later." Moyuan looked into the distance, his eyes holding both reluctance and a glimmer of hope.

"Let's go. Back to Qilin Cliff. From now on, our Ink Qilin Clan has no more Prince."

With that, his massive form turned into a streak of black light and vanished into the cavern.

Moyan cast one last glance in the direction Xuanqing had left, let out a faint sigh, and departed as well.

With a little thing perched on his shoulder, Xuanqing's flight through the skies was no longer so dull.

This little Ink Qilin recovered quickly—the Three Lights Divine Water's reputation was well-earned. In just a few moments, it went from barely alive to bouncing with energy, now using its fuzzy head to curiously survey the mountains and rivers below.

"Little one, from now on you're with me. You need a name." Xuanqing flew at a leisurely pace, tilting his head to look at it.

The little Qilin let out a "woof," its big, jet-black eyes full of confusion, clearly not understanding.

"You're pitch black all over. How about Xiao Hei? Simple and easy to remember."

The little Qilin seemed to catch the sound of those two words, let out an excited cry, and even nudged Xuanqing's chin with its head, as if agreeing.

"Alright, Xiao Hei it is." Xuanqing smiled, but inwardly he was grumbling. The Qilin Clan's royal, a direct descendant of Shi Qilin, with a name this down-to-earth—he wondered if its parents would come charging over from Qilin Cliff if they found out.

One man, one beast, they drifted leisurely toward Mount Buzhou.

Time in the Honghuang was unmarked, and the years were merciless.

Another few hundred years slipped by in a flash.

When a mountain so grand it defied description appeared at the edge of his sight, Xuanqing knew he had arrived.

Mount Buzhou!

The supreme divine mountain formed from the spine of Great God Pangu, propping up the heavens and supporting the earth.

Even from billions of miles away, that vast, ancient, and weighty aura pressed down, tightening one's heart. Kunlun Mountain might be the ancestral vein of all immortals, exquisitely spiritual, but compared to Mount Buzhou, it lacked that heaven-suppressing dominance.

"What a sight—this is the true pillar of the sky." Xuanqing praised from the bottom of his heart.

The closer he got, the clearer the residual pressure of Great God Pangu became. The space here was so stable that even he, a Golden Immortal, found his flight speed suppressed by an invisible force.

Xuanqing simply descended from the clouds and continued on foot with Xiao Hei, a gesture of respect toward Great God Pangu.

The area at the foot of Mount Buzhou was vibrant with life, dense with spiritual energy. All kinds of heavenly treasures and earthly rarities were everywhere, and many Spiritual Roots that would be rare in later ages grew here like weeds by the roadside.

Xuanqing didn't touch any of them. His purpose here was clear—he wasn't here to hunt for treasure.

He noticed that the creatures here, especially the Demon Race, were unusually numerous.

But strangely, these demons didn't carry the Sha Qi and battle intent he recognized from Baize's Demon Soldiers back then. Most of them had low cultivation, kept to their own territories in peace, and got along quite harmoniously.

"So this is the place Empress Nüwa protects." Xuanqing understood in his heart.

Though Nüwa was a Great Sage of the Demon Race, she was kind by nature and had compassion for the weak. Many demons who didn't want to join the Demon Court or fight for supremacy chose to seek her shelter at Mount Buzhou. Over time, this place had become a paradise.

Seeing this, Xuanqing couldn't help but think of the future Witch and Demon Calamity.

When that time comes, the sky will shatter and the earth will crack, blood flowing like rivers. Of these carefree little demons before him, how many will survive?

He shook his head, casting these thoughts from his mind. Beneath a Tribulation, even Sages are but chess pieces; for him, a mere Golden Immortal, thinking about such things was far too premature.

Ever since Hongjun Dao Ancestor announced his Merge with Dao and ceased to interfere in the workings of the Honghuang, the entire situation had grown delicate.

The first to bear the brunt was Dijun, the Demon Emperor.

This sovereign of the Demon Race, ambitious and now utterly unrestrained, had been making frequent moves lately. Word had it he was growing close to Dongwanggong, the one personally appointed by the Dao Ancestor as "Chief of All Male Immortals."

Xuanqing sneered at this.

Dongwanggong? A man addled by empty fame. Dijun was courting him only for his title, hoping to use it to legitimize his rule over all immortals in the Honghuang. Once Dongwanggong's usefulness was spent, his fate was easy to imagine.

Meanwhile, the relationship between the Demon Race and the Witch Clan had plummeted to freezing point.

The Witch Clan ruled the earth, the Demon Race ruled the heavens—neither was subordinate to the other, and conflicts were rife. Now, with the Dao Ancestor's restraint gone, small-scale skirmishes had already broken out in resource-rich border regions. A full-scale war was imminent.

The entire Honghuang was shrouded in an oppressive atmosphere, like a storm gathering before it breaks.

Thinking of this, Xuanqing furrowed his brow.

He recalled the looks Dijun and Dongwanggong had cast his way back at the Treasure Distribution Cliff in Purple Cloud Palace. Those gazes were complex, but what lingered most was a barely concealed wariness.

It seemed that as the sole disciple of the Three Pure Ones, his prominence had drawn the attention of these two.