At that moment, the Drifting Eyebrow Garden erupted with a deafening roar as a central rock layer collapsed, sending flames soaring into the sky and dispersing into the air. Everyone felt the intense heat on their faces and bodies. Amidst the terrifying inferno, a red silk ribbon fluttered past as Tang Lici emerged from the flames, his figure swift as a shadow. The moment he broke free, he saw thousands charging toward Liu Yan.
His eyes widened as he watched Fu Zhumei reverse the Plum Blossom Control Blade and swing it toward Liu Yan’s back. The expression on Fu Zhumei’s face, the light in his eyes—they were identical to Chi Yun’s! The Central Plains Sword Assembly had summoned the wrath of the heavens, and the walking corpses on the ground moved to the rhythm of the drums—all of them converging on Liu Yan!
The red-clad woman beside Chai Xijin cradled a massive venomous spider in her hands, half-green-gold and half-pink, the size of a palm. It spewed faint golden toxic mist, and countless nearly invisible silk threads shimmered with iridescent light around her, entangling Chai Xijin, Liu Yan, Fu Zhumei, and Dashu. It was a demonic creature that devoured human consciousness.
Cheng Yunpao leaned on his sword, barely able to stand amidst the sonic assault, swaying unsteadily. Meng Qinglei’s eyes were fixed solely on Liu Yan, his face filled with hatred. A few strands of spider silk coiled around his sword, yet he remained oblivious.
The whistles of Bihua Palace sounded as Tie Jing and others called out to each other, retreating. Some glared at Liu Yan with unwilling fury, but the majority obeyed Wan Yu Yuedan’s orders—staying away from the war chariot, covering their ears, and retreating swiftly.
No—
Tang Lici unfurled the Golden Thread Melody in his hand. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, he lunged at the red-clad woman holding the spider. His crimson figure spread like wings, descending like a cloud from the sky, still covered in embers.
The spider-controlling woman, having just seized control of Fu Zhumei, was ecstatic. But Tang Lici descended like a mythical roc, the Golden Thread Melody striking down with a single slash, severing her head. The venomous spider in her hands continued spewing silk even as her head hit the ground, her face still wearing a smile.
Dashu whirled around. The moment Tang Lici landed, his second strike aimed for the spider. The venomous creature was instantly reduced to pulp, but Dashu’s heavy palm had already slammed into Tang Lici’s shoulder.
With a dull thud, Tang Lici collapsed forward, unable to even brace himself, crashing heavily onto the war chariot. His disheveled gray hair tangled with the embers covering his body—the ashes even darker than his long locks. Liu Yan’s eyes snapped open. “A-Li!”
The Plum Blossom Control Blade descended from behind. Liu Yan struck the drum with both hands, sending a thunderous boom that shook heaven and earth.
Fu Zhumei remained unmoved—he didn’t use sonic techniques, but that didn’t mean he was entirely incapable. Yet the drumbeat jolted him slightly awake, his eyes widening as his blade veered slightly, slicing past Liu Yan’s face and severing half of his black hair in its wake.
Chai Xijin fired several layered petals of heavy blossoms straight at Liu Yan. As Fu Zhumei’s blade forced him to lean back and spin, half of his black hair flying, Liu Yan struck the drum again with his right palm, then tapped out a melody with his fingers. Chai Xijin’s heart surged with violent fury—the unbearable resentment from earlier welled up again, making him wish to slaughter everyone in sight. This man—this man had torn open his wounds, tortured his emotions, and inflicted upon him a thousandfold suffering.
This man—this man was Liu Yan.
His master, who had taught him sonic techniques and told him, “Do whatever you wish—but you must never do nothing.”Desolation and hatred coexisted, Chai Xijin's emotions burned like fire, his mind in complete disarray. Liu Yan spun with the blade's wind, leaving the great drum and moving behind Chai Xijin. Chai Xijin struck out with a palm to block the incoming Plum Blossom Control blade from Fu Zhumei. The blade followed like a shadow, yet it was unclear whether it aimed for him or Liu Yan.
A sudden tightness gripped his throat—something had wrapped around it.
Chai Xijin startled, tilting his head to realize Liu Yan's loose, flowing hair had swept past him. As Liu Yan leaned back and spun, he had grabbed his own hair and used it to strangle Chai Xijin.
Chai Xijin could hardly believe it—someone in this world had actually tried to kill with their own hair. Just as he was about to elbow Liu Yan to death, a rapid, storm-like rhythm erupted from the great drum, its melody like a tempest. His True power faltered, his throat gurgling as Liu Yan's black hair nearly choked him unconscious.
Fu Zhumei's vision flickered—one moment he saw Liu Yan and Chai Xijin, the next, shapeless demons and monsters. At times he heard singing, other times the sound of crawling creatures. He couldn’t discern where he was, lost and confused. Earlier, his chest had been wounded by Dashu, and his True power failed to recover. With a clang, the Plum Blossom Control blade slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.
Dashu, seeing only a blur before him—the spider woman dead, Tang Lizhi collapsed, Chai Xijin strangled by Liu Yan, Fu Zhumei's blade dropped—was utterly baffled by the sudden turn of events. After a stunned pause, he grabbed the meteor hammer from the ground and swung it at Liu Yan's head.
Though he didn’t understand how the situation had deteriorated so rapidly, killing Liu Yan and saving Chai Xijin was imperative.
Tang Lizhi lay sprawled on the great drum—it was he who had struck that melody, suppressing Chai Xijin's counterattack. But he lacked the strength to rise. He watched as Fu Zhumei's blade fell, swaying unsteadily, Liu Yan strangling Chai Xijin on the brink of death, and Dashu's meteor hammer hurtling toward Liu Yan's head.
The situation was precarious as stacked eggs. Tang Lizhi lay on the drum, unable to muster any True power, drenched in cold sweat. His True power stalled at his dantian, blocked by multiple meridians nearby. A large... a massive foreign object was disrupting his internal energy flow. He knew all too well—it was this very object that hindered his energy, blood flow, and meridians, delaying his recovery and weakening his constitution.
Fang Zhou's... heart.
The hope he had never abandoned—that no one would die.
The proof of Tang Lizhi's invincibility.
The arrogance of Tang Lizhi's undefeated streak.
And its fallacy.
His gray hair spilled onto the ground as Tang Lizhi half-rose. Dashu's first swing of the meteor hammer missed Liu Yan, who dragged Chai Xijin backward. Chai Xijin elbowed Liu Yan, but Liu Yan gritted his teeth, refusing to let go—his hair, astonishingly resilient, held fast despite his desperate tugging.
As Dashu's second swing came, the crowd, controlled by Liu Yan's sonic attack and filled with hatred, arrived.
Whoosh—the first arrow struck, landing three inches from Liu Yan's side.
No good... Tang Lizhi still couldn’t rise. His blood ran cold, then hot, as if already drained or frozen solid. With a sharp bite to his lip, he flicked his wrist, unsheathing "Golden Thread Song," and plunged it into his own abdomen.
With a twist and a flip, Tang Lizhi's lower lip bled, his expression blank. The golden sword pierced his belly, extracting a bloody mass that splattered beside the great drum.The head of the spider woman rolled beside it.
The true qi in his dantian suddenly surged through, meridians ruptured, internal energy scattered, and blood gushed like a spring from his abdomen. He tightly bound the wound with the crimson silk ribbon, not even glancing back as he raised his sword and lunged toward the Great Consciousness.
He spared no further glance at the grotesque object on the ground.
That thing was a mangled, hideous mass of flesh, a monstrous entity seemingly sprouting teeth and bones.
That was never Fang Zhou’s heart.
It was merely a teratoma born from Fang Zhou’s heart.
The so-called resurrection from death, from beginning to end… had been nothing but self-deception.
There was never a moment where I asked you to die for me, only for me to then ask you to live again.
The world is like peach blossoms on flowing water.
The departed cannot be held back.
Life is life.
Death… is death.
The life and death of man are no different from falling flowers or insects.
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