The autumn wind swept across the land, scattering withered yellow leaves in a flurry.
Sunlight fell upon the dilapidated thatched hut, yet left no trace of warmth.
After Song Qianji left, Meng Zhengxian remained seated in his original spot. The cold noodle soup still sat on the table.
Suddenly, birds took flight in alarm, and beasts fled in all directions.
Dark shadows swept across the sky and dense forests, stirring clouds of dust with each leap and landing.
Meng Zhengxian’s eyes were half-closed as he counted his Buddhist beads, seemingly oblivious to the anomalies and the shifting Spirit Qi of the entire mountain.
The mountain breeze rustled his flowing white hair, lending him a desolate air.
A furious roar erupted:
"Meng Zhengxian, back then we were willing to pledge allegiance to you, hoping you would revive the heretical path, ignite the war between righteousness and evil in the Cultivation World, and crush the prestige of the orthodox path! Yet you built that Golden Palace, allowing both righteous and evil factions to come and go freely. You lack ambition, indulging in pleasure—how are you fit to be the Lord of the heretical path?"
The speaker was nowhere to be seen, but the voice drifted near and far, at times seeming to descend from the heavens, at others so close it felt within arm’s reach.
Anyone hearing it would feel a sense of dread, wondering from which direction the enemy would strike.
Meng Zhengxian remained still and silent.
For years, the heretical path had suffered from a lack of talent and leadership, never gaining significant influence.
Meng Zhengxian’s emergence had undoubtedly rekindled hope among its practitioners.
Gifted with extraordinary talent, he advanced with astonishing speed and acted without restraint—a true great demon.
Most crucially, he was young enough to harbor ambitions of expanding territory and dominating the world.
Many waited for him to lead the demons of the heretical path in an earth-shattering war against the orthodox faction, then seize the Central Plains, capturing Spirit Qi-rich sacred mountains and bountiful Spirit Stone Mines.
Thereafter, followers of the heretical path would no longer need to drift and hide in remote places like the Dead Sea or the Western Sea.
But Meng Zhengxian had not done so.
Another voice shouted:
"Now the Golden Palace is destroyed, the Cultivation World claims you’ve been taken hostage by Song Qianji, and the orthodox path mocks us. Yet you let the culprit go and abandon the Western Sea! With a single command, you’ve dragged the entire heretical path into a manhunt!"
This voice shifted between masculine and feminine, sharp and eerie, sending chills down the spine.
But Meng Zhengxian continued counting his beads.
"Over the years, you’ve grown increasingly absurd and cruel—you are no longer fit to be the Lord of the heretical path! You must hand over the keys to the underground treasury and the treasure map, then abdicate for a worthier successor!"
A third voice, deep and resonant, spoke with lofty rhetoric, pressing down on the hut like a massive mountain.
The roof of the thatched hut exploded.
Meng Zhengxian sat amid the flying debris and finally opened his eyes. His expression was blank, devoid of anger, as if merely weary:
"If you’ve come to kill, why waste words?"
His impatient attitude thoroughly enraged the assailants.
Black poisonous mist surged from the ground, corroding plants and trees.
A swarm of crows descended from the sky like a dark cloud, cawing grotesquely.
Burning arrows engraved with Runes shot from all directions, their flames flickering with an eerie blue light.
Killing moves from above and below launched simultaneously, trapping the ruined hut in a tight encirclement.
Meng Zhengxian raised his hand, and the eighteen red jade Buddhist beads between his fingers scattered, spinning rapidly around him.
He seemed a step too slow—the black mist had already surged forth, the crows had descended, and the eerie blue arrows had already embedded themselves in the table.
From within the mist came the whistling of arrows, the flapping of crow wings, and the sizzling of corroded earth—but no human voices.
A woman shrouded in a black cloak exclaimed angrily, "He escaped!"
A gaunt cultivator covered in poisonous sores frowned, "No, the demon’s aura is still here."The fat old man's eyes darted, and he shouted loudly, "Listen well, everyone! Meng Zhengxian is severely injured! This golden opportunity must not be missed! Whoever cuts off his head will be rewarded with ten million Spirit Stones!"
Banners of various colors emerged through the mountain forest, surging like a tidal wave as they charged toward the thatched cottage.
Suddenly, a gust of wind rose, and a voice drifted down with it:
"Crow Granny, Poison Elder, Yinhuo Old Demon—since you've brought your men to kill me, you must be prepared to be buried here."
...
The closer Song Qianji got to the thatched cottage, the heavier his heart grew.
The earth seemed scorched by fierce flames, blackened and hot, with not a blade of grass growing.
A pungent, foul stench filled the air, making his chest churn with nausea.
Disfigured corpses and severed limbs drifted downstream, dyeing the river red.
Anyone could tell that a fierce battle had just taken place ahead.
"So many people have come—their leaders are likely the old-generation fiends of the unorthodox path. I haven't heard Little Meng's cries for help. I wonder if he managed to break through? No matter, my old injuries have healed now, and I'm at my peak condition. Who can stop me?"
Song Qianji slapped two Talismans for Warding Off Miasma onto himself, grabbed his sword, and charged into the billowing black mist.
He leaped over scattered limbs and broken arrows, cleaving the black mist with a sword aura, finally revealing the scene before him.
Meng Zhengxian's white hair flew wildly, his pupils blood-red. The crimson tattoos covering his body seemed to come alive, writhing and spreading across his pale skin like burning flames or flowing blood.
Eighteen prayer beads glowed with intense red light, enveloping Meng Zhengxian.
Countless blood-red vines sprouted from his wrists, dripping with bright red sap in a grotesque and eerie manner.
Numerous figures were tightly entangled by the vines, struggling helplessly in mid-air but unable to make a sound. The vines greedily sucked their flesh and blood, causing the bodies to shrivel until only skin remained in the blink of an eye.
Three individuals were forced to kneel at Meng Zhengxian's feet, weeping and begging for mercy.
A gaunt cultivator with a face full of poisonous sores pleaded:
"I was wrong! I'm willing to offer my life-bound Poison Banner to the Evil Buddha in exchange for my wretched life."
Meng Zhengxian smiled faintly and slammed his palm down, shattering a skull with a single blow.
Blood, brain matter, and bone fragments splattered everywhere.
Even someone as experienced as Song Qianji broke out in a cold sweat at this sight, his drunkenness completely vanishing.
—This was not Meng Heze. This was the Evil Buddha, Meng Zhengxian.
"Drinking leads to trouble, drinking leads to trouble!"
Only by gaining Meng Zhengxian's complete trust could he retrieve Meng Heze's soul. But these past few days, he had spoken of nothing but Thousand Canals and farming. Meng Zhengxian must have thought he'd lost his mind—how could he possibly trust him now?
While hesitating, he saw the Evil Buddha lightly press his palm downward, as casually as brushing away dust—
Crack! Another skull burst apart.
Song Qianji opened his mouth, the two words stuck in his throat finally bursting out: "Stop!"
Unexpectedly, his shout was not aimed at the pursuers but at Meng Zhengxian.
"Why did you come back?!" Meng Zhengxian's eyes flickered, as if suppressing something. "I told you to leave."
The last of the three kneeling men, seeing this, stopped begging and instead laughed wildly at the sky:
"Kill, go ahead and kill! I've seen through your Cultivation Method! The more you kill, the more your bloodlust becomes uncontrollable. In the end, you'll become a mindless monster driven only by instinct to slaughter—"
Before he could finish, Meng Zhengxian slammed his palm down again.
Song Qianji reached out to grab his wrist: "There are still pursuers behind us! Let's go!"
"Who said I'm going with you?" The blood vines retracted into Meng Zhengxian's body, and the eighteen prayer beads returned to their places.Song Qianji grasped at empty air. The other party wielded a Magical Artifact similar to the "Transverse Comb," capable of instantaneous teleportation, leaving him utterly defenseless.
He could only watch helplessly as Meng Zhengxian transformed into a crimson mist, dissipating with the wind.
...
What event had caused the biggest stir in the Cultivation World recently?
—The Lord of the heretical path was ambushed at Jade Mushroom Mountain, subsequently unleashing a massacre.
Wherever he passed, corpses lay strewn across the land, and rivers of blood flowed.
Even the previously loyal "Four Golden Palaces" had raised banners of rebellion, prompting the heretical path followers to mobilize en masse at the news.
Yet Meng Zhengxian grew increasingly arrogant, provoking conflicts along his path and smashing the mountain gates and plaques of major sects and noble families.
The Cultivation World united in common hatred, with voices calling for the demon's extermination growing louder.
Major immortal sects jointly issued a bounty: whoever killed the Evil Buddha would be granted the position of Guest Elder and have their golden statue enshrined in the God Temple to receive offerings.
Meng Zhengxian fought bloody battles all along his path, growing more frenzied with each fight, while a large group pursued him relentlessly from behind.
Among them, the cultivator at the very front, closest to the Evil Buddha, was named Song Qianji.
Once again, Song Qianji earned the title "Unyielding in a Hundred Battles."
Onlookers reveled in the chaos, and major gambling houses even opened betting pools on whether he could kill Meng Zhengxian:
"After the Golden Palace auction incident, Song Qianji must despise the Evil Buddha to the core."
"Whoever slays the Evil Buddha will be hailed as a demon-exterminating hero. This is a prime opportunity for a Rogue Cultivator to rise to prominence."
Amidst the rampant speculation, Song Qianji intercepted Meng Zhengxian at Looking-Back Mountain.
"Stop channeling your energy. The Spirit Qi within you is running wild. If you don't find a place to meditate and recover, you will surely die." This time, Song Qianji was genuinely angry, but even more so, perplexed. "What madness has taken hold of you?"
Meng Zhengxian's cheeks were sunken, his frame emaciated to the bone, yet his demonic aura had intensified: "Step aside. Don't think I'm unwilling to kill you!"
A blood vine lashed out toward him. Having reached his limit, Song Qianji drew his sword and engaged him in combat, secretly readying a immobilization Talisman in his sleeve to subdue his opponent at any moment.
The sound of chaotic footsteps approached from behind but halted three li away. Flying Magical Artifacts hovered in the sky, maintaining formation without disorder.
The pursuers from various factions had arrived, but fearing Meng Zhengxian's sinister and unpredictable techniques, none dared to be the first to approach.
Someone shouted, "Master Song, we'll cover your flanks!"
In just one short month, Song Qianji had gone from "Old Thief Song" to "Master Song."
"Stand down," Song Qianji ignored the others, speaking only to Meng Zhengxian. "I'll take you away."
Meng Zhengxian seemed not to hear.
As the blood vines grew increasingly frenzied, Song Qianji's sword strokes could only quicken in response.
Thick clouds veiled the moon, dust filled the air, rocks tumbled, and large sections of the cliff face crumbled. Crimson light and sword shadows intertwined.
Abruptly, Song Qianji heard a voice transmission: "Why do you still want to save me? Why haven't you given up yet?"
"Enough nonsense. Stop fighting me. I'll hold off the pursuers. Head east, and in three days, we'll..."
Before he could finish, he saw a smile flicker in Meng Zhengxian's eyes.
A bad premonition struck Song Qianji, and he hastily retracted his sword.
But it was too late.
The sharp blade pierced through flesh with a soft sound.
A sword through the heart, blood gushing forth.
White hair whirled wildly, red robes fluttered.
Meng Zhengxian laughed as he fell backward, plummeting into the abyss.
"Damn it!" Enraged and horrified, Song Qianji leaped after him without a second thought.
The distant onlookers saw both figures fall from the cliff almost simultaneously, vanishing into the thick layers of fog.
...
The wind howled past his ears as Song Qianji descended, sword in hand, struck by a sense of déjà vu.
Wasn't this just like that first night of his rebirth, when Meng Heze had been struck down by him at Broken Mountain Cliff?
But then he saw Meng Zhengxian's figure flicker below, disappearing into the cliff face.Song Qianji felt a weight lift from his heart and swiftly followed, charging into the shimmering cave.
Inside, the cave was clean and tidy, spread with snow-white long-pile carpets and lit by eternal lamps.
Surprisingly, Golden Blades, Jin Lu, Golden Hairpin, and Golden Peach were also in the cave.
Meng Zhengxian gestured for his subordinates not to assist him, staggering a few steps on his own before collapsing onto a soft couch.
So it was a feigned death escape plan. Song Qianji was furious: "Are you insane? Who in their right mind throws themselves onto a sword?"
"Aren't you just as crazy?" Meng Zhengxian laughed weakly. "Who jumps off a cliff willingly?"
Song Qianji turned and snapped, "What are you all staring at? Tend to his wounds! He's bleeding out!"
Yet the four stood motionless, their expressions grief-stricken.
Meng Zhengxian gave a slight nod.
Golden Hairpin then presented a wooden box to Song Qianji: "This is the key to the Underground Palace treasury."
Jin Lu offered a jade scroll: "This contains the treasure map and methods to disarm the traps."
Meng Zhengxian raised his sleeve, and Golden Peach stepped forward, presenting him with a wine jar.
He laughed heartily: "After this jar of Red Dust Wine, I'll return as a great demon in my next life!"
Meng Zhengxian threw his head back and drank deeply.
"Your Excellency!" The four knelt in salute, tears streaming down their faces.
"Return as nothing! Where are your healing elixirs?" Song Qianji's face paled as he rushed forward, grabbing Meng Heze's wrist to check his Spirit Veins.
The mountain wind scattered the thick clouds, revealing the full moon once more.
Meng Zhengxian smashed the wine jar, his voice calm as he spoke slowly: "If you kill me, both the righteous and demonic paths, everyone under heaven will thank you. The treasures in the vault are my lifelong accumulations. They're enough for you to find a blessed land, establish a sect, and become a grandmaster. These four can serve as elders and guardians..."
"You won't die!" Song Qianji frantically channeled Spirit Qi, but couldn't stop the rapidly fading life force. "Shut up!"
Meng Zhengxian collapsed against his shoulder, blood continuously gushing from the crimson tattooed patterns, soaking his red robes:
"This mountain is called Turning Back, this place is called Sacrifice Cliff. I cannot turn back, only sacrifice myself. I've entered the path of Asuras, with no hope of ascension, nor do I seek immortality."
"I chose this path, roamed freely through life, without regrets or complaints. Reaching the end, I neither wish to be sealed by my subordinates to linger on, nor become a mindless monster. Tonight, I call you senior brother, willing to die by your hand, to cement your legacy."
Song Qianji gritted his teeth, cursing with every obscenity he'd ever heard.
Meng Zhengxian's blood-red pupils gradually lost focus: "Senior brother, I see it... the spring fields of Thousand Canals, they're truly beautiful."
Song Qianji felt his eyes grow hot, his vision blurring: "Do you believe me?"
Meng Zhengxian's breath was faint as gossamer: "The Buddhist sutras speak of three thousand worlds. I believe what you said - that in some world, I have family, and friends too."
With lightning speed, Song Qianji slapped a "Soul Summoning Talisman" onto Meng Zhengxian's forehead:
"Little Meng, come back!"
OpenNovel