The True Heir

The morning sunlight drove away the chill in the valley.

Duan Rong sat cross-legged at the center of the altar, utterly still. Ten days had passed since he had last taken that position.

Over those ten days, he had not risen even once. He had remained seated there like a stone sculpture.

Dry grass clippings clung to his temples, blown up by the night wind and stuck there.

Chu Wushang stood atop the mountain peak, his gaze icy.

Wei Yan had stopped drinking these past two days. Instead, he had begun keeping watch at the cliff's edge as well, casting his Consciousness Shroud over Duan Rong. Duan Rong's ten days of stillness had made Wei Yan deeply curious.

The spiritual pressure of those four Mountain Body Divine Statues was self-evidently immense. Previously, every two or three days, Duan Rong would rise and leap back and forth through the Dense Forest near the valley. That, too, was a form of rest.

But this time, the boy had remained unmoving for ten full days, seated there without interruption.

Did that not mean he had endured the spiritual pressure of the four Mountain Body Divine Statues continuously for an entire ten days?

As Wei Yan thought this, he could not help glancing at the towering Mountain Body Divine Statue across from him. Viewed over the valley, the statue appeared ever more savage and terrifying, like a colossal god holding up the heavens.

Wei Yan looked at Chu Wushang and said, "Nothing could have happened to that boy, could it?"

At those words, Chu Wushang's lips shifted slightly. Though he appeared expressionless over these ten days, his anxiety had steadily grown. Had he not confirmed that Duan Rong's breathing was normal and that there seemed to be no serious danger, he would have taken