The Abyss of Chaos Gazes Back

In Li Shun's experience, Zhao Cheng loved dangling grand promises before people, often offering vague rewards in some distant future.

First it had been Fang Xun. Now it was Li Shun.

Still, Li Shun wholeheartedly agreed with one thing Zhao Cheng had said.

After the upheaval in the Primordial Illusion Realm, his central position in the Spring-Autumn Brush Lineage—even among the entire new generation of Confucian School disciples—was unshakable.

Provided, of course, that he did nothing foolish or outrageous.

That was what Li Shun thought, but he put on an expression of overwhelmed gratitude, as though moved to tears.

After a few more words of encouragement, Zhao Cheng hurried away.

The entire estate remained sealed until noon the following day, when the matter of the Outer God's envoy was finally resolved.

Several Creation Stage powers joined forces to subdue and take away the five prodigies of the Hundred Schools who had been corrupted and transformed by the Outer God. No one knew whether they lived or died after that.

The remaining disciples who had survived by sheer luck were like birds startled by a bowstring, still trembling with fear. Every one of them kept silent about what they had encountered deep within the illusion, afraid that even a few words might forge a causal link and draw the gaze of those indescribable horrors beyond the heavens once more.

Among the crowd, silent as cicadas in the cold, Li Shun also spotted the rumored heir of the Jun Family.

His name was Sun Lang. His build, bearing, and even the contours around his eyes and brows bore some resemblance to Shentu Xin. But where Shentu Xin was reckless, willful, and arrogant, Sun Lang seemed exceptionally reserved and cautious.

He spoke little and deliberately kept his distance from disciples of the other