Can Borrowing Strength Borrow Natal Dharma?

Ye Jianwei around. Although he couldn't see it, he could sense the Spiritual Power leaking out from the side of the Divine Son Hall.

"With such a commotion, the Young Master is probably tinkering with some new technique again."

As he spoke, he was about to take a step.

A figure darted out ahead of her.

It's Qin Zhaoer.

With a flick of her white dress, the person who had just been stubbornly insisting that it was none of her business, didn't say a word, just stared in that direction and jogged over.

Ye Jianwei taken aback, then the corners of his mouth curved into a smile.

As expected, the Eighth Young Master was still the same as before.

A faint smell of burning could already be detected in the wind.

It's fine.

It's fine.

This is the Immortal Court, not that other world.

Qin Zhaoer jogged along, repeating this phrase in her mind.

But her pace quickened involuntarily.

She was terrified.

I'm afraid of losing him again.

That feeling... was awful.

That's really bad.

Qin Wangchuan would never know that after his death, the Jujube Tree he had cursed for so long would be buried with him.

They would never have imagined what kind of time Qin Zhaoer had gone through.

She was initially defiant.

What's the big deal?

It's just that they've taken the first step.

It's so embarrassing to cry over something like this.

I can still live a good life.

But later I realized that the feeling was worse than death.

Everywhere I went was empty; I couldn't stay there for even a moment longer.

At last.

She didn't live a good life; instead, she died in sorrow, tormented by longing and struggle.

When Qin Zhaoer circled around to the side, the first thing she saw was the Dao Sword.

A huge and ferocious crack cleaved straight out of the ground, extending all the way before finally slamming heavily onto the waist of one of the Qin Clan's Tall Building.

The plaster was peeling off, the bricks and stones were cracking, and it looked frighteningly grotesque.

The area on both sides of the sword mark was a scene of devastation.

Several disciples sat slumped beside the ruins, their clothes covered in dust, mouths agape, unable to recover for a long time.

Qin Zhaoer didn't stop walking.

These are not the most important things to her.

My gaze traveled beyond the broken walls and rubble, peering through the hole that had been blown open in the Divine Son Hall, and finally inside.

The moment I saw that figure inside, the breath I had been holding in finally let out.

Fine.

He's perfectly fine.

But just as my heart settled down, it jumped up again.

Through the ruins, Qin Zhaoer saw Qin Wangchuan talking to Dragon Scale with his head down.

Her voice was soft, and her expression was affectionate.

... I'm worried sick here, and you're doing fine.

Flirting with a dead dragon there?

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got; a surge of anger rose in my chest.

She was almost about to rush over and demand an explanation: What do you take me for?

What should we consider everything from that trial as?

My foot has already taken half a step.

But in the end, that half-step was withdrawn.

Qin Zhaoer stood there, staring fixedly at the figure.

In the end, he just gave a bitter laugh and turned to leave.

That's enough.

Never mind...

That was, after all, just a trial.

Perhaps he never took those days and nights during the trials seriously at all.

'He didn't take it seriously; I'm the only one overthinking it.'

Qin Zhaoer inwardly mocked herself, 'Like a fool.'

Thinking this way, the last vestige of hope in my heart finally cooled down.

She glanced at the ruins one last time, then turned and left without lingering.

Qin Wangchuan, standing to the side, naturally noticed that gaze.

It's so hot that it's hard to ignore.

However, he did not delve into the matter further, but instead continued to ask Dragon Scale:

Did you exert any force just now?

Dragon Scale shook her head.

She hasn't yet adapted to the power within her, and that's why she didn't make a move earlier.

That's strange.

Qin Wangchuan turned his head and looked at the ruins in front of him.

Dao Sword shot out, obliterating everything in its path.

"A casual sword strike can produce this effect... I must say, as expected of me?"

"Fortunately, it was high up, otherwise many people would have been injured."

The lingering aftertaste still lingered on my fingertips--

Light and swift.

This is the power from the future.

"This feeling... is it like a body from eighty... no, fifty years in the future?"

Although I can only guess roughly, it should be pretty close to the truth.

"Only fifty years have passed, yet a casual sword strike possesses such power."

"What about me five hundred, five thousand, or fifty thousand years from now?"

Qin Wangchuan pondered, then turned his gaze back to the edge of the ruins.

While the destructive power it exhibits is astonishing, in reality...

With his current methods, achieving the same effect wouldn't be difficult.

What truly matters is the formation.

This is the Core Region of the Qin Clan's Divine Son Hall.

The walls and the ground beneath them were covered with array patterns.

The arrays were indeed triggered the instant the attack landed, but the protective light was torn apart in a flash.

It looks like it's made of paper.

"This Future Self was borrowed in order to harness the Future Power."

"What appears to be one thing is, in fact, not."

"The Future Self is this lithe form, and the Sword Dao is extremely skillful."

"And this force... it's like Fifth Sister's Miefa Sword, capable of annihilating Spirit Art?"

"Is it the power I will comprehend in the future, or rather, my Natal Dharma?"

He paused, his brow furrowing.

"It's powerful, but the load is too heavy."

He had only swung his sword once when a sharp pain shot through his chest.

At first it was faint and indistinct, but in the blink of an eye it intensified, as if an invisible hand was tightly gripping my heart.

Helpless, all I could do was silently call upon the Wheel of Fate.

After passing through the golden wheel again, his body was restored, and the excruciating pain finally subsided.

Qin Wangchuan gazed at the golden wheel before him, a surge of pride rising within him.

"It really has succeeded... accomplishing what predecessors did not, Borrowing Strength."

"Next, we'll make a revamp so that everyone in the Qin Clan can use it."

Just then, I heard soft footsteps behind me.

Ye Jianwei bowed and reported:

"Young Master, Princess Jiang requests an audience."

Jiang Xuanli?

Qin Wangchuan thought for a moment and then understood.

It's most likely related to the struggle for the throne that Ye Jianwei mentioned before.

"Let her in."

"Yes..."

Ye Jianwei responded, but did not leave immediately. Instead, he hesitated and added in a low voice, "Also... just now, the Eighth Young Master came by."

Qin Wangchuan nodded, but did not answer.

If that's the case, then that gaze just now most likely belonged to Eighth Sister.

Only...

Qin Wangchuan shook his head, suppressing those thoughts.

Let's deal with the immediate issues first.