The Son of Heaven Gazes at Qi

Yin Mingchen had fallen after all.

Ye Jingchen breathed a quiet sigh of relief, secretly feeling fortunate that he hadn't been the one to fall to the God-Splitting Spike; at worst, he would only have been forcibly ejected from this plot world.

A sharp glint flashed in his eyes as his tone deepened: "Now that Yin Mingchen's God-Splitting Spike has fallen into enemy hands, the hardest part to gauge is who will be killed off next, and who will truly run head-first into the lethal strike of that spike."

These words were meant for the few members of the Royal Clan nearby, but also for himself.

A weapon like the God-Splitting Spike was a finite resource, and no one knew whose head the next one would land on. They were all just scraping by in the Waste Disposal Bureau, already serving penance, and if they were sent back after being hit by a God-Splitting Spike, it was hard to say if their families would even bother with them.

A crisp beam of sword light tore through the firmament, and Wang Xuan appeared in the deep crater in an instant.

At the bottom of the pit, Yin Mingchen's corpse was split neatly in two, blood already seeping into the soil, turning it a dark, bruised red.

Wang Xuan raised his hand in a phantom suction motion, and the two halves of the corpse rapidly withered; the skin lost its luster, the muscles atrophied, and the bones collapsed. Within a few breaths, they turned into a cloud of flying ash, scattered cleanly away by a gust of wind.

A storage bag with gold threads and black patterns fell into his palm.

The system panel popped up a list: [Six Styles of Proud Cold], [Wind God Leg], [Zhouliu Wind Energy], [Wind Control Art].

"Six Styles of Proud Cold, Wind God Leg..." Wang Xuan glanced over them. These two were familiar faces, nothing to be surprised about, but his gaze lingered on the latter two, and his brows arched slightly.

Zhouliu Wind Energy? Wind Control Art?

The names sounded somewhat familiar.

He ran through his memories. In Canghai, there was a peerless divine art said to turn one into a terrestrial immortal upon mastery, known as the Zhouliu Six Voids Technique, which could command the eight energies of heaven and earth and circulate through all things.

Mastering it meant summoning wind and rain and controlling nature itself, making one akin to a god or immortal. This Zhouliu Wind Energy was merely a branch of those eight energies, and the Wind Control Art was just one of the martial techniques derived from it.

"What a pity... it isn't the complete version of the Zhouliu Six Voids Technique after all." Wang Xuan couldn't help but feel a sense of regret.

That art took "harmony" as its path; if heaven and earth did not comply, one would use force to correct them. Once mastered, one could act with total impunity. If he could obtain the complete legacy, he would be able to firmly suppress any side in future high-level plot worlds. Unfortunately, this was all Yin Mingchen had to his name; while the wind energy was exquisite, it was ultimately just a fragment.

After a moment of reflection, he probed the storage bag again, his fingertips brushing against two items.

One was that pitch-black, lusterless God-Splitting Spike that made one's heart crawl just looking at it. Yin Mingchen's spike was still here, and combined with the one from Chu Lingtian, he now had two.

The other was the gleaming long blade Yin Mingchen had carried in life, the blade itself radiating a biting chill.

There was no time to carefully inventory the spoils now. In the distance, the remaining members of the Royal Clan had already fled in a panic the moment Yin Mingchen died.

Wang Xuan didn't rush to pursue.

He looked up, his gaze passing over the smoke and dust to land on those shrinking figures, the corners of his mouth curling slightly.

On the other side, Ye Jingchen was also fleeing, hidden among the crowd.

Chu Lingtian excelled in swordsmanship but had mediocre movement techniques; Yin Mingchen possessed wind energy that made his footwork the fastest in the world, but Ye Jingchen's path was entirely different.

He had mystery beneath his feet; with every step, the ground beneath him rippled like waves, pushing him forward as if he were riding the tide. His speed was not the least bit inferior, and he was even faintly outpacing the other members of the Royal Clan.

Yet, whenever he was about to overtake the group, he would deliberately suppress his speed, always keeping pace with his companions, neither showing off nor hiding his presence.

Occasionally glancing back, a cold, dark current flowed in his eyes.

His primary cultivation was the Emperor's Qi-Gazing Technique.

Combined with his S-rank talent, the All-Seeing Eye, no movement within a ten-mile radius could escape his sight.

By observing the principles of the three talents, weather and terrain, mountain ranges and dragon veins, and the aura of life and death, he could see through everything. When observing people, he could pierce through the flow of true qi, the reality or deception of their moves, and the flaws in their state of mind; even their deeply hidden character weaknesses were clear at a glance.

In past fights, he never had to engage in a hard struggle.

He only needed to secretly agitate the opponent's qi, provoking the energies within their body to clash, and he could defeat the enemy without a fight. Even if the opponent was a cut above him, they would often inexplicably suffer a qi deviation.

But at this moment, in his eyes, the qi surrounding Wang Xuan was terrifyingly vast.

Five-colored energy intertwined and tangled, like a mountain standing to support the heavens. Every move he made stirred the surrounding momentum of heaven and earth, his pressure heavy and suffocating. He had secretly tried several times to use his Qi-Gazing Technique to pull and suppress, hoping to disrupt the complex and chaotic qi within Wang Xuan's body.

It was useless.

That qi within Wang Xuan was as steady as a thousand-pound boulder, not even a ripple could be stirred.

Ye Jingchen's heart gradually sank.

This bizarre situation was something he had never encountered since he began practicing the Qi-Gazing Technique. A person cultivating so many internal arts should have had their true qi clash within them long ago, causing them to explode from the inside out.

Yet Wang Xuan was perfectly fine. Those energies that should have been in conflict were obedient within him, as if suppressed by some powerful force.

He had no way of knowing that this was the heaven-defying aspect of Wang Xuan's unique talent. Others who practiced multiple internal arts would have long since suffered ruptured meridians and qi deviation; all the hidden dangers and side effects of clashing energies and disturbed qi were completely nullified for him.

Ye Jingchen felt a chill in his heart, his mind calculating rapidly.

No, Wang Xuan hates us Royal Clan members to the bone; he won't let us go easily, and he still has two God-Splitting Spikes in his hands...

The more he thought, the more uneasy he became, and a thought emerged.

What if he just abandoned the mission and voluntarily exited this plot world?

He calculated clearly in his heart: if he really wanted to escape, he could just end his own life and leave. If he struck himself down, dying would get him kicked out of this world, which was better than being hit by a God-Splitting Spike and returning to suffer the agony of a shattered soul.

But the problem was, fleeing back to the real world in such a pathetic state, having lost the God-Splitting Spike and failed the mission—let alone clearing his name and returning to the family's inner circle, he would likely have a significant amount of time added to his sentence.