Chaos Dao Body

"You think you're worthy..."

Bang!

There was no suspense whatsoever.

The evil cultivator did not even get to scream before it caught in his throat, his protective ghostly qi shattering into dregs. It was as though an ancient divine mountain had struck him head-on, sending him plunging stiffly from midair.

The floor was smashed into a huge crater.

The Golden Core evil cultivator who had been clamoring about bathing Myriad Treasures Pavilion in blood moments ago now lay sprawled at the bottom of the pit like a dead dog.

The hall fell deathly silent.

This was the foundation of Myriad Treasures Pavilion?

This was a Nascent Soul Cultivator?

One finger had crippled a Late Golden Core cultivator!

"Netherworld's hand has reached too far."

The aged voice rang out again, carrying unquestionable majesty. "I'll leave you with one breath. Crawl back and tell those old ghosts that if they want to touch Myriad Treasures Pavilion, they can come themselves. Get out..."

An immense force swept up the mangled body at the bottom of the pit and flung it out the main doors like trash, turning it into a black speck that vanished into the night sky.

The oppressive aura ebbed away like a receding tide.

The lights came back on.

Nangong Yan smoothed the disheveled hair at her temple, her gaze passing over the crowd before pinning Shen Wanshan in place.

"Patriarch Shen."

Her voice was icy. "Do you also treat Myriad Treasures Pavilion's rules as nothing?"

Shen Wanshan's knees went weak, and he nearly dropped to them on the spot.

They were both Golden Core cultivators, but that finger strike had thoroughly shattered his courage. Before a Nascent Soul old monster, the Shen Clan's patriarch was no different from an ant.

"A misunderstanding... it was all a misunderstanding!"

Shen Wanshan's usually arrogant face was now creased with wrinkles, cold sweat dripping from his chin. "Shen would never dare deliberately violate Myriad Treasures Pavilion's rules!"

"It had better be."

Nangong Yan snorted coldly. "The Shen Clan may have a Nascent Soul Cultivator, but if Myriad Treasures Pavilion wants to leave you with broken bones and torn sinews, we need not wait until tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, yes..." Shen Wanshan nodded and bowed, but his eyes cast a venomous glance toward the corner.

There, Ye Xingchen stood with his hands behind his back, so calm he did not seem like a youth at all.

"Thank you."

Ye Xingchen looked at Nangong Yan.

Nangong Yan narrowed her beautiful eyes, a trace of strange feeling rising in her heart.

This brat was far too calm.

It was as though he had long expected the ancestor to act, or perhaps... he simply did not care about the threat of a Golden Core evil cultivator at all?

"There is no need to thank me."

Nangong Yan's red lips moved slightly as she transmitted her voice directly to him. "The ancestor acted for Myriad Treasures Pavilion's rules, not to save you. Once you step out that door, your life and death are your own responsibility. A man is guilty because he possesses jade; neither the Shen Clan nor Netherworld will let you go."

Ye Xingchen raised a brow, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

He turned and looked toward the First Saint Sect elder who had remained silent all along, Li Huairen.

"Elder Li."

Ye Xingchen transmitted his voice directly. "If the First Saint Sect wants an unshakable Nascent Soul Realm ally, now is the best time to place its bet."

Li Huairen's pupils contracted slightly.

He did not look at Ye Xingchen, but at Zuo Tianhe beside him.

The Left Clan's ancestor was nearing the end of his lifespan; this was an open secret among the upper ranks. Once he fell, the Left Clan would surely perish. But what if... that old monster lived a second life?

A Nascent Soul Cultivator at the height of his powers—such a favor weighed as heavily as Mount Tai.

"Do you have the medicine?" Li Huairen tapped his fingers against the table, producing crisp knocks.

Ye Xingchen shook the jade bottle in his hand.

"Innate Dragon Marrow. It is more than enough to prolong life and reconstruct the body."

Li Huairen smiled.

"Good."

A simple deal was struck.

The corners of Ye Xingchen's lips rose.

With the First Saint Sect's banner and the Left Clan's urgency, the journey back was secure.

Zuo Tianhe had long been unable to hold himself back. He swiftly led Ye Xingchen and the others away.

Watching that group vanish into the distance, Shen Wanshan's face twisted, his nails digging deeply into his palms.

"Let's go!"

He gritted his teeth and hurried away with the Shen Clan members.

Everyone could smell the blood in the air.

Azure Cloud City would not sleep tonight.

Left Clan, underground secret chamber.

All nine layers of formations were activated, cutting off all spiritual-sense probing.

Only now did Zuo Tianhe's taut nerves finally relax.

"Little Friend Ye, no words can express my gratitude!"

Moving briskly, Zuo Tianhe took out a storage ring and pushed it across the table. "Ten million Spirit Stones, the reward we agreed upon."

Ye Xingchen did not take it.

He casually tossed the bottle of Innate Dragon Marrow, enough to stir up a bloody storm, onto the table.

Clang.

The crisp collision made Zuo Tianhe's eyelids twitch wildly.

"I did not fail my mission." Ye Xingchen was sparing with his words.

Zuo Tianhe lifted the jade bottle with trembling hands. Feeling the vast vitality within, his eyes instantly reddened.

The ancestor could be saved!

"Besides those ten million." Zuo Tianhe took a deep breath, pulled out another ring gleaming with flowing light, and heavily slapped it onto the table. "There are another ten million here. I know it is but a drop in the ocean compared to the Dragon Marrow's value, but this is the Left Clan's sincerity. Little Friend, you must accept it!"

Twenty million.

With a sweep of Ye Xingchen's sleeve, both rings vanished at once.

"Money and goods are settled."

He rose to his feet, his gaze passing Zuo Tianhe and landing on the withered, skinny figure in the corner.

"Master Zhang."

Ye Xingchen's tone was teasing. "Isn't it time to fulfill the wager?"

Zhang Sanqian stiffened all over.

Not far away, Master Gu He lowered his head and blew at the tea foam, as though a flower had bloomed in his cup.

Sky-Eye Daoist simply closed his eyes to rest, muttering that his eye ailment had flared up.

"Cough... well..."

Zhang Sanqian forced himself to step forward, his face flushing liver-purple. "Little Friend Ye, it is already late today, and the Stone Gambling Convention has not yet ended. How about..."

"A Heavenly Dao Oath does not distinguish between morning and night."

Ye Xingchen cut him off, lightly tapping the table with a finger. "Ten million. I will not agree to even one Spirit Stone less. For cultivators, inner demons are the greatest taboo. If your Dao heart collapses, Master Zhang, I fear your stone-appraisal livelihood will be smashed to pieces."

Zhang Sanqian's face twitched.

Trembling, he removed his storage ring. With a clatter, he poured out his entire fortune.

Spirit Stones, magical artifacts, pills, even several Daoist robes.

"I only have three million Spirit Stones..."

"This flying sword is a top-grade Black Tier artifact, worth one hundred thousand... this bottle of Rejuvenation Pills..."

Like a heartless pawnshop keeper, Ye Xingchen picked through everything.

"The flying sword is too badly worn. Ninety thousand."

"The pills have expired. Worthless."

"This jade pendant is poor quality, roadside-stall junk."

"..."

After a round of accounting, even the emerald hairpin atop Zhang Sanqian's head was stripped away, yet it only came to seven million in total.

Zhang Sanqian stood there with disheveled hair, the very image of a plucked rooster.

"You still owe three million."

Ye Xingchen slapped down paper and a brush. "Write an IOU."

"You..." Zhang Sanqian trembled with rage. "A scholar may be killed but never humiliated!"

Rumble—

A muffled clap of thunder sounded outside at just the right moment.

Zhang Sanqian shuddered. His backbone was instantly fed to the dogs as he snatched up the brush, scribbled out an IOU, and pressed down his handprint.

"Ye Xingchen, mountains may not turn, but rivers do. Just you wait!"

After throwing out that threat, Zhang Sanqian rammed open the secret chamber doors and fled in a miserable state.

Ye Xingchen flicked the IOU in his hand and casually put it away.

He was just a drowned dog. No matter how fiercely he barked, he was still only noise.

Late at night.

In the Left Clan's upper chamber, spiritual qi was so dense it had condensed into mist.

Outside, the Left Clan's protective formation quietly operated. Countless black shadows lurked amid the manor's darkness. The Shen Clan and Netherworld had already bared their fangs, waiting only for news of the Left Clan ancestor's death before tearing this lineage to shreds.

Inside the room.

Ye Xingchen sat cross-legged on a spirit-jade bed, turning a blind eye to the killing intent outside.

He closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking into his mind.

On the system panel, the string of numbers representing "Source Points" was jumping wildly.

The deposit of twenty million Spirit Stones had brought that number to an unprecedented height.

"The feeling of getting rich overnight."

The corners of Ye Xingchen's lips lifted.

In this cultivation world where people devoured one another, Spirit Stones meant resources, resources meant strength, and strength meant life.

"System."

He spoke silently in his heart.

"Consume Source Points. Skip the cultivation process for the second realm of One Qi, Three Purities with one click."

[Ding! Detected that the host possesses sufficient Source Points.]

[Deducting Source Points...]

[Beginning deduction of the second realm of One Qi, Three Purities...]