The Hardest Favor to Endure is a Beauty's Kindness

The two turned around in unison, only to see a beauty in black robes, with exquisite features, a tall stature, and long, straight legs, walking gracefully from around the corner with light, nimble steps.

The form-fitting black garment perfectly outlined the girl's graceful curves.

A head of long, smooth, raven-black hair was tied into a ponytail that fell to her lower back.

As the beauty swayed her slender waist and moved her delicate body, every step was filled with youth and vitality; her simple attire was enough to make one's heart race.

"Senior Sister Tang Qian'er."

Mu Chen looked at the newcomer with delight, waving at her from afar.

Tang Qian'er was the daughter of Tang Shan, one of the Eight Great Commanders.

Because she was exceptionally beautiful, possessed both grace and a fine figure, and was gifted with both wisdom and beauty, she was dubbed by enthusiasts as one of the two golden flowers of the Northern Spiritual Academy, and indeed, the entire Hundred Spirit Continent.

It was just unknown who would be fortunate enough to pluck such a flower in the future.

"What a coincidence, Hong Ling is here too."

The girl in black, who had been smiling radiantly, saw her expression tighten significantly.

Looking at this beauty whose appearance was in no way inferior to her own, her sense of crisis surged; she smelled the scent of a peer and a rival.

Inadvertently, their gazes had already collided countless times in mid-air.

In a sense, both Tang Qian'er and Hong Ling were Mu Chen's childhood sweethearts.

However, Hong Ling's pursuit was too intense, as if she wanted to devour him whole at any moment, which made him instinctively shy away.

Tang Qian'er played the role of a gentle older sister, making her much easier to get along with.

"What brings Qian'er here to find Junior Brother Mu Chen?"

"Could it be that, like me, you are here for the King's Tribute Festival?"

How could the mature Hong Ling admit defeat? Not only did she quietly change her form of address, but she also took the initiative to attack, smiling in a way that was neither mocking nor serious.

Childhood sweethearts—who wasn't one?

"Hmph, none of your business, you annoying person."

Seeing this lifelong rival, with whom she had competed since childhood, pierce through her intentions on the spot, Tang Qian'er glared at her with a look of shy annoyance that was full of charm.

Unable to parry, the girl in black waved at Mu Chen and left in a fluster.

After all, her feelings were relatively reserved; she could not be as unrestrained as Hong Ling.

"It seems Qian'er, like me, has a crush on the Young Prince."

Having driven away her competitor, Hong Ling smiled like a little fox that had successfully stolen a chicken.

When it came to teasing, a hundred Tang Qian'ers couldn't compare to her.

Every gesture she made revealed an astonishing charm and allure.

"Is it just a crush for you? I'm too embarrassed to point it out!"

Mu Chen felt a heat in his heart and instinctively looked away.

A boy out in the world must protect himself!

"Young Prince, if there is nothing else, Hong Ling will take her leave."

The long, narrow phoenix eyes of the girl in red were filled with smiles, as if they could speak.

As she spoke, she slightly bent her shapely, straight legs, then swayed her slender waist, and departed with a lazy, graceful gait.

Intelligent and perceptive, she understood well that one should not pursue someone too tightly; too much is as bad as too little.

Hong Ling would never repeat the mistakes her mother had made in the past.

"Embody the Pagoda, witness the Great Path of Spirit."

In the spotless meditation room, the profound and obscure incantations echoed like the tolling of an ancient bell, resonating with the sound of the Great Path, gradually seeping into the depths of the void.

Mu Chen sat cross-legged on a cushion, his eyes tightly closed, his breath long and steady.

In the air, wisps of spiritual energy were pulled by an invisible force, passing through his pores and meridians, following an extremely complex route until they entered the sea of energy in his abdomen.

After being transformed by the Ancient God Canon, the crystalline, colorless spiritual energy gradually morphed into a dark, profound spiritual power—restrained to the extreme, yet exceptionally domineering and sharp.

That was the Pagoda Divine Power, renowned throughout the Great Thousand world!

The dark spiritual power poured continuously into the depths of the sea of energy, swirling quietly. After multiple compressions and accumulations, it finally turned into spiritual crystals, all sinking into the mist.

This power had long since surpassed the limit of what the Sensing Realm could bear.

As long as Mu Chen wished, he could break through to a higher realm at any time and reap the fruits of his labor.

"Hum!"

After the Great Pagoda Art had completed eight small cycles, a profound fluctuation suddenly rippled through his body, and the spiritual power in his sea of energy began to resonate, vibrating violently.

The speed of the divine art began to accelerate on its own, increasing time and time again.

As a faint, gentle warmth swept through his body, the dark spiritual energy hovering above his sea of energy suddenly stirred, condensing out of thin air into a mysterious light pagoda about the size of a palm.

The pagoda was pitch-black, nine stories high, and exuded an ancient, profound aura.

Yet, it was extremely illusory, like a sandcastle that would collapse with a single gust of wind.

The second stage of the Pagoda God Art, Form Condensation!

Even the circulation route of the divine art within his meridians faintly outlined the shape of a strange, mysterious pagoda, the two resonating with each other, threatening to break through the Sensing Realm in one fell swoop.

Just as the barrier of the Spirit Movement Realm was teetering on the brink of collapse, a pure thought suddenly descended, restraining the restless dark spiritual energy, and the sea of energy in his abdomen returned to calm.

"Whew, an unexpected joy."

Mu Chen suddenly opened his eyes, a flash of brilliance darting through the depths of his pupils.

It had been half a year since the King's Tribute Festival, and he had thought it would be good enough to push the Pagoda God Art to Foundation Establishment; he had not expected that, through a stroke of luck, he would successfully step into the Form Condensation stage.

"My divine veins."

Mu Chen did not get up immediately.

He recalled his previous internal inspection, the mysterious points of light that had appeared within his body.

For a moment, his gaze grew deep.

In the past, Qing Yanjing had sealed his spiritual veins not only to evade detection by the clan but also because she did not want her child to become obsessed with increasing his cultivation and neglect the tempering of his character.

Peerless geniuses like the Flame Emperor and the Martial Ancestor, who had broken through the shackles of the plane and shattered the void to arrive, could become supreme beings of heaven even in lower planes where spiritual energy was extremely scarce.

Of course, his mother had not suppressed him blindly.

The Pagoda God Art she left behind was the key to unlocking the seal on his spiritual veins.

Once he cultivated to the Pagoda Manifestation Realm and solidified the light pagoda within his body, he could project it outside.

Not only would the Eight Spirit Veins and Nine Divine Veins be opened in succession, but the various wondrous uses of the Pagoda Divine Power itself—such as amplifying and sealing spiritual energy—would also emerge.

By then, the light pagoda would no longer be illusory, but a tangible object.

It could even be nurtured as a life-bound spiritual artifact, its grade elevated, and summoned to face enemies.

"Brother Chen!"

As Mu Chen walked out of the quiet room, a sunny youth who had been waiting for a long time suddenly popped out, grinning at his boss with a radiant smile.

"Lie Jiu, was it you who snitched to my father last time?"

"No loyalty! Take this, eat my fist!"

Mu Chen's eyes lit up, and he swung his fist toward the newcomer.

Lie Jiu, the son of Commander Lie Yan, was his childhood friend.

"Brother Chen, Brother Chen, stop hitting me, Brother Chen, I know I was wrong."

"Ouch, it hurts! Wait, little brother has something important to tell you!"

The sunny youth dodged while howling for mercy.

The two brothers laughed and wrestled for a good while before stopping.

"Speak, what did you come to find me for?"

"Brother Chen, have you been training until you've gone muddled? The Spirit Road Selection has begun."

Lie Jiu rubbed his bruised eye socket, muttering with dissatisfaction.

It was just that he had told the King about Mu Chen's injury last time—was it really worth this!