"Stay away from my boss!"
Though Tian Meng was timid, at that moment he still stepped in front of Dugu Bo without hesitation.
Looking at the enormous, translucent worm floating before him,
Dugu Bo showed not the slightest carelessness. His eyes grew grave.
"You're saying Ye is your boss?"
Faced with Dugu Bo's question, Tian Meng couldn't help showing a hint of pride.
"Exactly!"
Though Dugu Bo felt somewhat relieved by Tian Meng's answer, his brows knitted tightly again as he looked at Ye Guchen in the pit.
"Um... fellow insect," Dugu Bo said, carefully choosing his words. Faced with the ancient, powerful Soul Beast aura Tian Meng was pretending to possess, he didn't dare act presumptuously.
"I know a little about medicine. Would you allow me to go down and check on Ye? Don't worry, I owe him a great favor. I would never harm him."
Tian Meng Ice Silkworm fixed its beady eyes on Dugu Bo. Golden light flickered in them, as if it were judging whether he was telling the truth.
After a moment, it slowly moved its enormous body aside, its voice still wary.
"You'd better mean what you say. If you dare try anything, I'll fight until my soul scatters and at least kill the girl over there first!"
Dugu Bo's eye twitched, but he said no more and leaped into the pit.
Dugu Yan stood at its edge, anxiously clutching the hem of her clothes as her gaze darted between her grandfather and the giant worm.
Dugu Bo crouched down and placed two fingers against Ye Guchen's wrist. A gentle, emerald-green stream of Soul Power cautiously entered his body.
As the Soul Power flowed into him, Dugu Bo's brows drew tightly together.
"Strange. His aura is extremely steady—almost unnaturally robust."
For a moment, Dugu Bo was at a loss.
"Could something be wrong with his spiritual power?"
As he spoke, Dugu Bo sent a strand of spiritual power toward Ye Guchen's brow.
But Ye Guchen's Sea of Consciousness had long since been sealed. The spiritual power Dugu Bo sent out was blocked by a golden barrier and couldn't advance even an inch.
"How strange!"
Dugu Bo had no choice but to carry Ye Guchen back out of the pit.
"How is he?" Tian Meng Ice Silkworm asked urgently, its voice carrying a panic even it hadn't noticed.
"I can't do anything either!"
Dugu Bo shook his head.
"You're helpless?" Tian Meng Ice Silkworm's voice suddenly rose. Its enormous spiritual power spilled out of control, pressing down on Dugu Yan until her face turned deathly pale and she stumbled several steps backward.
Dugu Bo hurriedly stepped in front of his granddaughter and released his Soul Power to resist the pressure.
"Easy, fellow insect!" Dugu Bo shouted sternly. "I may be powerless, but perhaps someone else can try."
Tian Meng Ice Silkworm forced down its agitation and asked urgently, "Who?"
"The Ye family, with their Nine Heart Begonia," Dugu Bo replied, each word deliberate.
Ye Qingxian, the current head of the Ye family, stepped out of the room, weariness and helplessness etched across her refined face.
She gently closed the door and slowly shook her head at Dugu Bo and the others, who had been waiting outside.
"I can't do anything either."
She sighed. Her voice was gentle, yet powerless.
"I've never seen a condition like his. He looks perfectly normal: his complexion is rosy, and his breathing is even, as if he were asleep. But he simply won't wake up. I can't examine his spiritual power, either. Whenever I try to enter it, I'm bounced back by a sturdy barrier. I've never heard of anything like it."
Meanwhile, in the Hundred Treasures Pavilion of the Dou II timeline, the air was so stifling it was suffocating.
Elder Zhuang withdrew the fingers he had placed on Ye Guchen's wrist and slowly shook his head as well. His wrinkled face was full of confusion and shame.
Seeing this, Yan Shaozhe swayed slightly, his emotions seemingly slipping out of control. His voice was hoarse as he asked, "You really can't find anything wrong at all?"
Elder Zhuang still shook his head, his old fingers absently rubbing the edge of his clothes.
What he had found was exactly the same as Ye Qingxian's findings.
Every sign of life was perfectly normal, and yet Ye Guchen remained unconscious, like a shell that still held warmth.
"Xiaotao!"
Yan Shaozhe abruptly turned toward Ma Xiaotao, who stood in the corner with a complicated expression. His gaze burned as he said, "You were with him the whole time before he passed out. Tell me everything that happened beforehand, from beginning to end!"
At his words, Ma Xiaotao's cheeks instantly turned scarlet, like a ripe peach.
Was this really something she could talk about in front of so many people?
Her hands twisted together unconsciously until her knuckles turned white. She wanted nothing more than to find a crack in the floor and disappear into it.
But when she looked at the unconscious youth on the bed, then at the grave, anxious faces around her, she knew the situation was urgent. Gritting her teeth, she pulled Yan Shaozhe to the corner of the room.
Her face flushed red, and her voice came out in a tiny, halting murmur.
"He... first gave me an Immortal Herb to help me deal with my Evil Fire problem. Once I swallowed it, the Evil Fire churning inside me really was suppressed and calmed... Then..."
Ma Xiaotao lowered her head and prodded at her fingers. Her voice grew quieter and quieter until she couldn't get the words out.
"Then..."
She nearly buried her head in her chest.
Seeing Ma Xiaotao's mortified, bashful look, Yan Shaozhe—who had spent so many years navigating the tangled paths of love—understood all too well.
He coughed twice and turned his face away, looking uncomfortable.
"Ahem! I understand."
Yan Shaozhe folded one arm across his chest and felt his chin with the other, his brows furrowed as he muttered, "That doesn't make sense... Could Xiaochen already be that depleted? Surely not..."
Just as everyone was at their wits' end and only the heavy sound of breathing remained in the room, the rumble of wheels rolling across the ground came from outside the door.
Everyone turned toward the sound and saw a disheveled old man, his hair a bird's nest and his robe all rumpled, carefully pushing another old man in a wheelchair toward them.
"Elder Mu! Elder Xuan!"
Recognizing the newcomers, everyone straightened and bowed in unison.
Though the old man in the wheelchair was gaunt, his eyes still shone like stars. He was Mu En, the Dragon God Douluo—the pillar of Shrek Academy.
The man pushing the wheelchair was Xuan Zi, the Taotie Douluo.
"How is Xiaochen?"
Mu En's voice was aged but full of concern. His gaze passed over the crowd and settled on the bed.
Elder Zhuang looked uncomfortable. As the acknowledged number-one healing-type Soul Master in Shrek, he had been utterly clueless in the face of this situation, and it showed on his face.
He raised a hand to scratch his already sparse hair and replied in shame, "I haven't the slightest clue. I've checked everything I can, and there's nothing wrong, yet he simply won't wake up."
Mu En didn't blame him. He merely nodded slightly, his gaze calm.
He raised a withered hand, signaling Xuan Zi to push him in for a closer look.
The wheelchair rolled slowly to the bedside. Mu En reached out a hand weathered by time and gently laid it on Ye Guchen's forehead.
A Soul Power so gentle it was almost imperceptible, mixed with pure spiritual power, slowly entered Ye Guchen. Yet even Mu En, a level-ninety-nine peak Douluo, could find no answers after examining him with the utmost care.
When he tried to reach out with his spiritual power and touch the Sea of Consciousness, an unbreakable golden barrier stopped him cold. He couldn't advance any farther.
Mu En's pupils contracted. He withdrew his hand, a rare look of confusion appearing on his aged face.
"This..."
After a moment of thought, he looked deeply at the unconscious youth.
"I've never seen a situation this strange, either. And just what kind of power could seal off my examination?"
At that, Xuan Zi was the first to lose his composure. He understood better than anyone what it meant to be a level-ninety-nine Titled Douluo.
"How is that possible? Even you..."
Before he could finish, Mu En raised a hand to stop him.
"Enough. Though Xiaochen is unconscious, his breathing remains steady. There's no need for everyone to worry too much."
Seeing that even Elder Mu was helpless, the others were unwilling to accept it, but for now, all they could do was wait.
Just as everyone outside was helpless, their spirits shrouded in gloom,
Ye Guchen's consciousness drifted to a strange place deep within his soul.
There was no sky and no earth here. Everywhere he looked, black-and-white mist churned without end.
The space was like chaos before the division of heaven and earth, so silent he couldn't even hear his own heartbeat.
A domineering Shark Tooth Sword with a fierce design floated quietly in midair, its patterns clearly visible along the blade.
Two strands of sword energy, fine as silk yet radiating an overwhelming sharpness, slowly circled the blade—one black, one white.
They were the same two strands of sword energy that had intimidated the remnants of the two Dragon Kings.
They were tiny, and their auras so faint they seemed liable to vanish at any moment, yet they carried an overbearing force that permitted no desecration. Even the surrounding mist was constantly sliced apart and shredded by their sharpness.
The black strand was a full circle thicker than the white one, and the light it released was far more solid.
"What is this?"
Ye Guchen felt no panic. Instead, a strange sense of familiarity welled up within him.
He raised a hand and cautiously brushed his fingers across the black-and-white strands of sword energy circling the Shark Tooth Sword.
Though he was only a consciousness at that moment, the instant his fingertips touched the peerlessly sharp sword light, his skin was silently sliced open, leaving behind a tiny wound.
Wisps of black-and-white mist curled around the wound's edges like maggots clinging to bone, keeping the tiny cut from healing.
Ye Guchen brought his finger closer to his eyes, carefully feeling the sting in his fingertip and the strange fluctuations of energy. His pupils contracted slightly.
"Zongheng Sword Energy!"
He looked around again, only then realizing that all the black-and-white mist churning throughout this strange space was free-floating Zongheng Sword Energy, not yet gathered into form!
The discovery jolted him, and a flash of understanding crossed his eyes.
At a thought, Ye Guchen reached out and seized the hilt of the floating Shark Tooth Sword.
The moment his palm touched the hilt, the two black-and-white strands of sword energy, which had been circling the blade on their own, shuddered. It was as if spiritual beings asleep for a million years had finally received their master's summons.
They gave a clear, ringing hum, then wound up his arm like nimble serpents, following the cold hilt and merging seamlessly into his conscious form.
A profound, mysterious understanding flooded his mind, as if water had been poured over his head.
Ye Guchen closed his eyes without realizing it. One sword move after another surfaced naturally in his mind, the sword light flowing and his steps shifting. Every detail was clear down to the finest hair.
It was as if these sword techniques had always been engraved in the deepest part of his soul, flowing through his blood, waiting only for an opportunity—a moment of awakening.
"Zongheng Sword Technique!"
Ye Guchen knew this set of sword techniques far too well. He had practiced every move hundreds and thousands of times.
The Shark Tooth Sword let out a light, pleasant hum in his hand. Its blade trembled, its tip slanting toward the ground, while the cold light along its edge flickered in the black-and-white mist.
Yet the sword techniques now appearing in his consciousness were both identical to the ones he had practiced before and utterly different.
If his earlier practice had been like copying a profound sword manual, imitating its moves and possessing only their outward forms,
then what appeared in the depths of his consciousness now was more like an unparalleled sword master personally guiding him, holding nothing back as he passed on the entirety of a lifetime's knowledge.
Every detail was laid bare, down to the force behind each move, the exact angle of every step, even the rhythm of his breathing and where his gaze should fall. Nothing was left out.
Ye Guchen drew a deep breath, sensing the power coiled within his conscious form, ready to spring into action. Then—he moved.
As he took his first step, a faint ripple spread across the ground beneath him. The black-and-white mist throughout his entire conscious space churned violently, as if stirred by an invisible hand.
He slowly swung his sword, each strike heavy and steadfast, like a mountain sliding across the land.
Every slash carried the dignified, unshakable authority of a king.
It was neither an assassination nor a drawn-out exchange. It was a king surveying his own territory, crushing all who refused to submit, advancing without retreat and surging forward without pause.
This was the Zong Sword Technique.
The Zong stood for a king. It emphasized crushing the opponent head-on, using absolute strength and momentum to leave them nowhere to dodge and nothing they could withstand.
The sword forms were broad and sweeping, with no need for intricate flourishes. All that mattered was an unstoppable force.
Every strike's path carried the resolute spirit of, "Though a thousand face me, I will go forth."
Ye Guchen's figure darted and shifted through the churning black-and-white mist. His sword light was like a silver vase bursting open, like quicksilver spilling across the earth, flowing on without end.
The white mist that had drifted about in disarray was drawn by some irresistible force, gathering toward the Shark Tooth Sword in his hand.
It clung to the cold blade in wisps and strands, then, as the sword forms swept and turned, followed his arm and slowly merged into the still slender strand of white sword energy inside Ye Guchen's body.
He could clearly feel that with the completion of each sword move, the white sword energy was growing at a visible rate, from something fine as silk to something increasingly solid and bright.
He completed all thirty-six moves of the Zong Sword Technique without a hitch. Then Ye Guchen stood with his sword lowered, his posture straight as a pine, and let out a long breath.
The breath left his lips but didn't disperse. It gathered in the black-and-white mist, taking the shape of a translucent white sword of air that shot several yards forward before slowly dissolving into the roiling mist.
Ye Guchen lowered his eyes to the Shark Tooth Sword in his hand. The black and white strands of sword energy flowed slowly along its blade, like two fish full of spirit.
Compared to a moment before, the white strand had grown a full circle thicker. Though it was still nowhere near as robust as the black strand, it had long since shed its former weakness. Its sharpness fully exposed, it seemed poised to rival the black strand.
At the very instant the Zong Sword Technique's proficiency caught up with the Heng Sword Technique's, it was as if something in Ye Guchen's mind clicked shut—and something else burst open.
An indescribable sense of wondrous harmony surged through his entire body like an electric current.
The feeling was mysterious beyond words, like yin and yang complementing each other, like water blending with milk.
The two sword techniques no longer stood apart. Instead, they seemed to form a complete cycle.
Following the instinct rising from the deepest part of his soul, Ye Guchen raised the arm holding his sword again.
This time, his sword stance changed abruptly.
He began to dance with his sword once more.
But this time, he no longer followed the broad, sweeping movements of the pure Zong Sword Technique, nor the treacherous, changeable tactics of the Heng Sword Technique.
His figure rose and fell through the black-and-white mist, the path of his sword light growing mysterious and unpredictable.
At times, he was like a king descending upon the world, crushing everything in all directions; at others, he moved like a specter stalking in the shadows, shifting in a thousand ways.
An unending series of sharp whistles cut through the air. The black-and-white sword lights wove a tight, impenetrable net around him, slicing the space into fragments.
Overcome by this feeling of absolute command, Ye Guchen couldn't help crying out as he danced with his sword.
"Exhilarating! Exhilarating! I never thought I'd been taking the wrong path all along...
"What I see before me—that is Zongheng!"
Before you continue