" Canyi —that traitor—"
That faint, almost vanished thought, like a red-hot iron needle, pierced deep into Qi Yun's mind.
His pupils contracted slightly, but his face remained expressionless. He simply hovered quietly in the void, letting the wisp of remnant spirit drift slowly down to his palm like a withered leaf.
The grayish-white halo flickered slightly, like a candle dying in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment.
However, the Dao it contains is like a dormant volcano, seemingly lifeless on the surface, but churning within with terrifying power capable of burning the heavens and boiling the seas.
Qi Yun lowered his head, letting the light fall upon the wisp of remnant hope in his palm.
His eyes sparkled with color, and the [ Primordial Unity ] Dao was operating at full power, like an invisible and intangible yet omnipresent giant net, firmly covering this wisp of lingering thought.
He did not rush to refine it, nor did he attempt to seal it.
I just watched quietly.
Within that halo, the fragmented images shifted even faster.
Majestic palaces, a vast starry sky, war-torn cavalry, fallen gods—
Countless images flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern.
It was so fast it felt like an illusion, yet it possessed a chilling realness.
It was as if those images were not fragments of memory left behind in the remnants of regret, but a piece of history that had been forcibly sealed away and was now trying to break free.
Qi Yun's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
He could sense that the state of this lingering remnant was more complex than he had anticipated.
It was not merely severed or abandoned, but rather "contaminated" at its very source by some extremely clever and domineering means.
That kind of pollution is not a simple erosion, but rather like dropping a drop of ink into clear water; it may seem insignificant, but it will stain the entire glass of water with its color.
The Daoist meaning contained within the lingering regret is no longer pure.
It is mixed with an extremely obscure and chilling will, like a bone-deep ailment, intertwined with the lingering resentment itself, inseparable from it.
"As expected—" Qi Yun murmured to himself, "This is bait."
A carefully prepared bait.
He wasn't surprised.
From the moment he decided to "take the bait," he was prepared to face all sorts of traps.
However, he never expected that the trap would be far more ingenious than he had anticipated.
The remnant of the Dao King is a genuine item, and cannot be faked.
But the chilling will clinging to it, like a malignant tumor, was like an invisible thread, one end connected to the lingering resentment, the other end—
Qi Yun's gaze deepened.
He followed the trail of that chilling will, slowly tracing it upwards.
Passing through layers of void, through shattered stars and floating remnants of the world, through the spatial rifts ravaged by the Immortal Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation and the Hetu Luoshu Grand Formation —which have yet to fully heal.
Finally, his gaze settled on a distant, indistinct void.
There was nothing there.
There was only a deep, almost solidified darkness.
But in the deepest darkness, Qi Yun vaguely sensed something.
That was a gaze.
A cold, indifferent light, carrying a condescending, scrutinizing gaze, was silently watching him from the darkness.
Their eyes met.
Though separated by endless void, they seemed as close as if they were right next to each other.
Qi Yun's lips slowly curved into a very faint smile.
"It really was you."
He didn't say the name.
But the owner of that gaze clearly understood; he knew.
"Interesting." Qi Yun murmured, withdrawing his "gaze" and returning it to the wisp of remnant spirit in his palm.
The grayish-white halo still flickered faintly, and the fragmented images flowed faster and faster, as if urging something on.
"You want me to refine it?" Qi Yun smiled faintly to himself, "Then take advantage of my weakness, erode my Dao Foundation, and defile my Primordial Unity?"
"A clever scheme."
He did not rush to act, but slowly closed his eyes and sank his mind into the depths of his Purple Mansion.
The [ Hunyuan Great Luo ] Dao is operating at full power.
In an instant, the aura around him became incredibly deep and heavy, like an ancient deity who had existed since the beginning of time, sitting atop all things and looking down upon the heavens.
The wisp of remnant spirit in the palm seemed to sense something; the grayish-white halo trembled suddenly, and the shattered images froze instantly, as if pressed down by an invisible hand, unable to move.
"Don't rush." Qi Yun opened his eyes, his gaze calmly fixed on the remnant spirit in his palm. "I haven't decided how to deal with you yet."
Speechless with regret.
Only the frequency of the pulsating light seemed to have increased slightly.
Qi Yun ignored it and instead raised his other hand, spreading his fingers slightly, and made a light sweeping motion in the air.
"Laugh"
A stream of condensed, chaotic color flowed from his fingertips, outlining an ancient, complex Dao pattern in the void, imbued with the meaning of governing all laws.
The Dao patterns took shape, slowly drifted down, and gently imprinted themselves on that wisp of lingering will.
The grayish-white halo trembled violently, then faded rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The fragmented images ceased to flow and were frozen in the last frame.
It was an ancient city.
An ancient city so majestic it defies description, so grand it defies imagination.
It floats in a vast and boundless galaxy, its entire body flowing with an extremely noble purple-gold luster, radiating supreme majesty that reigns over all heavens and dominates all worlds.
Above the main gate of the ancient city hangs a plaque.
Above the plaque, two large characters are engraved in a simple and vigorous style.
[ Chang'an ]
Qi Yun's pupils contracted slightly.
Chang'an!
He was familiar with those two words.
He had seen this name among the vast collection of ancient books and records of the Holy Sect, among those fragments and incomplete scrolls that had been sealed away for countless years.
Chang'an Ancient City.
The capital of the Great Tang Dynasty.
The place where the Twenty-Four Imperial Weapon are enshrined is also the supreme palace where the Great Tang, who unified all heavens and dominated all worlds, held court and ruled the universe.
Now, the remnant of this palace has appeared in a fragment of a Dao King's lingering memory.
What does this mean?
Qi Yun already had the answer in his heart, but he remained calm and composed.
He withdrew his finger, and the chaotic Dao pattern imprinted on the lingering remnant glowed slightly before disappearing.
The lingering regret completely subsided, like a piece of amber sealed within amber, no longer capable of emitting the slightest ripple.
"It's temporarily sealed off," Qi Yun muttered to himself, putting the grayish-white halo in his palm into his sleeve.
He neither chose to refine it nor attempted to destroy it.
It's just sealed off.
Because he knew that the value of this lingering regret went far beyond that.
It's not just bait, it's a key.
A key that can unlock certain secrets that have been sealed away for millennia.
That secret may concern the True Lord Contemplating the One, the Demon Master Kunpeng, the World-Honored One Honored One, and the true nature of this ancient game of chess.
"No rush," Qi Yun thought to himself. "Once the Mountains and Rivers Cauldron's spirituality recovers, perhaps we can glean some information from it."
Without lingering, his figure swayed slightly, transforming into a faint, chaotic Flowing Light that silently disappeared into the depths of the void, hurtling towards the Xuanhuang Home Realm.
Behind them, the shattered void returned to deathly silence.
Only where that lingering remnant of thought had lingered remained a faint, almost imperceptible, chaotic hue, slowly dissipating.
Like a silent declaration.
The Xuanhuang Home Realm, the Wuji Sacred Sect, the Green Mountain Daoist Temple.
Qi Yun's figure moved like a ghost, silently passing through layers of restrictions and landing in the courtyard.
The Mountains and Rivers Cauldron still floated quietly in the corner of the courtyard, with nine divine dragons coiled around its body, their eyes gleaming slightly, as if welcoming his return.
"You're back?" Cai Shen's voice came from the cauldron, carrying a hint of relief. "How was it? That lingering resentment—"
"It's sealed off." Qi Yun calmly, walked back to the withered tree, and sat down cross-legged.
"Sealed?" Cai Shen was taken aback. "Not refined?"
"No rush," Qi Yun shook his head. "That thing is strange; refining it rashly could lead to unforeseen consequences."
Cai Shen remained silent for a moment, without pressing further.
He knew that Qi Yun must have his own reasons for saying that.
"So what do we do next?" he asked.
Qi Yun did not answer immediately.
He slowly closed his eyes, sinking his mind into the depths of his Purple Mansion.
He began to deduce the [ Primordial Unity ] Dao at full power.
To deduce the origin of that lingering resentment, the source of the chilling will attached to it, and the true purpose of the True Lord Contemplating the One, the Demon Master Kunpeng, the World-Honored One, and others in this game.
Countless fragmented pieces of information collided, intertwined, and recombined in his mind.
Like a jigsaw puzzle that has been scrambled, it is being pieced together little by little.
But it's always just one piece short.
That crucial piece of the puzzle could never be found.
Qi Yun's brows furrowed slightly, but he showed no impatience.
He knew that in times like these, there was no time to rush.
The closer you get to the truth, the thicker the fog becomes.
Those who wield the pieces in the shadows will not easily reveal the whole picture to him.
"Young Qi," Cai Shen's voice rang out again, tinged with hesitation.
"Explain."
"Just as you left, True Lord Contemplating the One sent another message."
Qi Yun suddenly opened his eyes, a fleeting glint of light in them.
What did he say?
"It's still those six words," Cai Shen's voice was a little strained, "The flowers will bloom, the fruits will fall."
"Then what?"
And then—that was it.
Qi Yun fell silent.
He slowly stood up, walked to the center of the courtyard, and looked up at the sky obscured by thick clouds.
Deep within the clouds, faint starlight peeked through, as weak as a flickering candle, struggling to illuminate something but powerless to do so.
"Flowers will bloom, fruits will fall—" Qi Yun repeated these six words in a low voice, his eyes sparkling as he fully activated the [ Primordial Unity ] Dao to deduce.
After a moment, he slowly withdrew his gaze, a very faint smile curving his lips.
"Then let him drive," he said calmly. "Let him land."
"Let's see what happens after this flower blooms—whether it bears a divine fruit or—a poisonous fruit."
Cai Kun opened his mouth, as if to say something, but ultimately said nothing.
He knew that once Qi Yun had made a decision, he would not change it.
From a lowly servant disciple in the Outer Mansion to the supreme True Lord who now wields Primordial Unity, Qi Yun's decisiveness in taking action when necessary has been the key to his success.
"Alright." Qi Yun turned around, flicked his sleeves, walked back to the withered tree, and sat down cross-legged again. "Go keep your fourteenth brother company."
Its spirituality has almost recovered; after some more time, it should be able to operate on its own.
"And what about you?" Cai Shen asked.
"Me?" Qi Yun closed his eyes, his aura gradually subsiding. "I'll wait."
"Wait for what?"
"Wait for the flowers to bloom."
The courtyard returned to silence.
As dusk deepened, the distant mountains appeared as dark as ink.
The Xuanhuang on the Mountains and Rivers Cauldron, like an inextinguishable lamp, illuminated this small courtyard.
Nine divine dragons swam slowly on the body of the cauldron, their eyes gleaming as if they were watching something.
And in the depths of that unknowable Long River of Time, on that transcendent, Long Ages Immortal Island.
Before the thatched cottage.
True Lord Contemplating the One stood with his hands behind his back on the riverbank, gazing at the now completely subsided ripples, a profound and unfathomable smile slowly spreading across his lips.
"Soon—" he murmured to himself, his voice soft yet carrying a chilling certainty, "It'll be soon."
Behind him, True Lord Feng Xi remained quietly seated on the futon.
The lapis lazuli vine in her hand had been woven into a lifelike phoenix, its feathers outstretched and its eyes slightly closed, as if it were asleep.
She raised her eyes, glanced indifferently at the True Lord Contemplating the One, her gaze cold and detached, and remained silent.
Only a very soft, almost inaudible sigh escaped from her lips, drifting away on the wind into the eternal Long River of Time.
And in the farthest, deeper void.
The wisp of grayish-white remnant spirit that Qi Yun had sealed away suddenly twitched slightly.
Those frozen, fragmented images, as if infused with new life, began to flow slowly and faintly.
In the scene, the majestic ancient imperial city still floats amidst the starry sky.
But the city gates seemed to be slightly wider than before.