Zhang Zhuang was a mid-stage Qi Sea Realm cultivator.
Compared to others on Heavenly Summit Mountain, his cultivation was neither high nor low.
Among the Five Great Sects, their strength was in a class of its own across Chenping Continent.
Zhang Zhuang did everything he could to flee the Daoyan Arena.
Escaping the aftershocks of a Myriad Transformations Realm cultivator’s clash, and evading pursuit from some of the Five Great Sects, Elder Zhang was fortunate to make it out of the arena at all.
Next was the Water Mirror Pavilion.
Amid the panicked crowds, Zhang Zhuang found a path.
Most people fled away from Heavenly Summit Mountain.
But once they reached the mountain’s edge, they all ran straight into the cage woven by Wen Hongli, True Dharma Elder of Kongyuan Mountain.
The prisoners inside were all death-row inmates.
Elder Zhang ran toward the Water Mirror Pavilion, gathering true qi under his feet.
He prepared to exert himself and float through the air.
But before he could lift off, he saw two Qi Sea Realm cultivators already flying in midair.
Those two mid-stage Qi Sea cultivators were struck into two puddles of blood-mist by the single-finger attacks of a Passable God Realm elder from Wind Ravine Valley standing on a nearby rooftop.
Zhang Zhuang released the qi under his feet.
Better to run, then.
The straight-line distance from the Daoyan Arena to the Water Mirror Pavilion was ten li.
For a Qi Sea Realm cultivator, even one who could not yet fly, that distance was not far.
Running flat-out, half an incense stick of time would be more than enough to reach it.
But as Zhang Zhuang sprinted toward the pavilion, a never-before-felt, suffocating sense of imminent danger slammed down from behind him.
A hundred zhang away, a cyan-blue great dragon streaked across.
It ground every building in its path into dust.
Mid-stage Elder Zhang had no time to react.
Though there were hundreds of zhang between them, the residual force of a Myriad Transformations Realm cultivator’s full-power innate true energy assault was still terrifying.
Zhang Zhuang was directly blasted away, spitting blood.
He struggled to his feet.
Fortunately, there were still hundreds of zhang between him and that cyan-blue dragon.
Had it been another thirty zhang closer, he would have been dead for sure.
Zhang Zhuang slipped his hand into his robe and shakily withdrew a small pill bottle.
Only one pill remained inside.
Mingyu Pill.
To elders of the Five Great Sects, this sort of pill might be commonplace.
But to Zhang Zhuang of the Beiyuan Sect, the Mingyu Pill was priceless.
Only pillmasters above the Passable God Realm could refine it.
How many Passable God Realm pillmasters existed in ordinary sects?
Outside the Five Great Sects, there were only a handful on all of Chenping Continent.
After taking the pill, in just a few breaths Zhang Zhuang’s complexion improved considerably.
There was no time to rest.
He prepared to continue toward the Water Mirror Pavilion, but the instant he lifted his head—
“No, no no no…”
The color that had just returned to his face drained to ashen.
The cyan-blue dragon formed from innate true energy had been headed straight for the Water Mirror Pavilion.
Now the Water Mirror Pavilion lay completely in ruins.
Ye Xiu!
A dreadful feeling rose in Zhang Zhuang’s chest and he broke into another run.
The closer he got to the pavilion, the sparser the people became.
Along the way he passed a burning tree, beneath which lay thirteen corpses of Qi Sea Realm cultivators.
He had no time to pay them any mind.
Zhang Zhuang hurried on toward the Water Mirror Pavilion, clenched his teeth, poured dense true qi into his feet, and stamped a few times in the air.
He rose and flew.
His mind was in total chaos.
The pavilion’s ruins were right before him.
Among the dust and flames, Zhang Zhuang saw several figures.
One was a youth in a pristine white dao robe, now dirty and smudged.
One was a girl in a light green gauze skirt, stained with blood.
Another wore a loose, shabby crane-embroidered cloak and looked forty or fifty years old.
The last one was badly wounded and could barely stand; he was—
Ye Xiu!
Zhang Zhuang rushed toward the ruined Water Mirror Pavilion.
He watched helplessly as the youth in the white robe sent a sliver of clear light from his fingertip that pierced straight through Ye Xiu’s chest.
“No!”
Zhang Zhuang screamed, his voice tearing the air, and the shout drew the attention of the others.
The girl in the pale green gauze skirt slowly turned.
Rage had clouded Zhang Zhuang’s judgment.
It was over—everything was over.
Beiyuan Sect’s future was finished.
Chen Yan, Qin Qingyu?
All of you, accompany the Beiyuan Sect’s future to the grave!
Zhang Zhuang lunged crazily through the air at the youth in the white dao robe.
Then a sweep of Moonlight Beams appeared in midair.
From the top of Zhang Zhuang’s skull, his entire body was cleanly split in two.
…
Qin Qingyu lowered her head slightly, looking at the body she had just bisected with a hint of puzzlement.
“Who is this person?”
she asked softly.
Lin Qifeng glanced at the two halves of the corpse, the death look pitiful.
“The dao robes are Beiyuan Sect’s, so he must have some connection with this Ye Xiu,” Lin Qifeng said.
Chen Yan paid no attention to what was happening behind him.
He only stared at the body in front of him—the one belonging to Ye Xiu that had just been pierced by the clear light from his fingertip.
It was over.
With this, Mo Zheng should be taken care of.
He didn’t know how the fighting at the Daoyan Arena had turned out. If Senior Uncle Yue could keep He Furen under control, and if Uncle Zhong and Lord Hu had Elder Bai’s help over there…
“Careful, more people are coming.”
While Chen Yan was thinking, Lin Qifeng suddenly said quietly.
Chen Yan turned his head toward where Lin Qifeng was looking and saw two figures approaching the Water Mirror Pavilion.
One wore Kongshan Sect’s white dao robe with a sword at his waist.
The other wore Mirage Palace’s deep cyan dao robe, handsome in appearance.
They were Xiao Bo'an and Lin Xinyang!
“Lin personal disciple, Junior Brother Chen, and Seat Lord Qin?”
Lin Xinyang looked at the people in the Water Mirror Pavilion with some confusion.
It seemed he had no conflict with Xiao Bo'an.
That made sense; Lin Xinyang knew nothing of the situation. The previous clashes with Xiao Bo'an had all been because of Chen Yan.
“Seat Lord Xiao.”
Chen Yan stepped forward, looking Xiao Bo'an straight in the eye.
“It’s all over.”
“Is it?”
Xiao Bo'an glanced at the corpse of Ye Xiu lying at Chen Yan’s feet and replied coolly.
He raised a hand and gently stroked the ring he was playing with.
“Even when the Mirage Palace and the Weaving Dreams Tower were at their peak on Heavenly Summit Mountain, when people spoke of illusion arts, Weaving Dreams Tower would naturally be the first to come to mind…”
Xiao Bo'an said slowly, then wore a smile on his face that utterly mismatched his words.
“Brother Chen, you truly are impressive…”
A bad premonition rose in Chen Yan’s chest.
Could it be—
“But in the end, what is real, and what is illusion?”
Xiao Bo'an lightly brushed his palm across Chen Yan’s cheek.
When his hand moved away, the face that rose within his palm was, astonishingly—
Ye Xiu!