The Bamboo Serenity Valley, a tranquil haven within the imperial city, nestled by mountains and waters, was lush with verdant bamboo, resembling a breathtaking painting from afar.
The Qinghong Pavilion stood within this valley, far from worldly clamour, rarely visited by outsiders.
By reckoning, the Qinghong Pavilion had existed for a hundred thousand years, enduring through the vicissitudes of time, steadfast and unyielding.
In ancient times, Master Fangcun, the foremost disciple of Saint Monk Xumi, had left various safeguards within the Qinghong Pavilion. The spatial teleportation array he crafted, leading to the Flat Peach Tree’s realm, was entrusted to the Nalan clan for generations.
Only the sacred blood of a saint from the Nalan clan’s direct lineage could activate the teleportation array.
Before the Kunlun Realm became a merit battlefield, this duty fell to Emperor Wen.
As a Great Saint, Emperor Wen had to leave the Kunlun Realm, and the guardianship of the Flat Peach Tree was meant to pass to the Saintly Scholar.
However, burdened by court affairs, the Saintly Scholar was unable to take on the role. Thus, she entrusted two awakened Confucian scholars, known as “Bookworm” and “Hundred Folly,” with this grave responsibility.
Their true names had long been forgotten.
Bookworm and Hundred Folly held astonishing identities as the final disciples of the last Confucian Ancestor, inheriting his true teachings.
Later Confucian disciples revered them as ancestral masters.
The Confucian tradition, with its profound heritage, had birthed numerous gods throughout history, including four pinnacle Confucian Ancestors.
Legend held that even the Ten Tribulations Heavenly Lord had studied under the third Confucian Ancestor, mastering Confucian literature, cultivating martial arts, and spiritual strength to their zenith.
The Qinghong Pavilion was no ordinary structure; it contained a vast internal universe, an immense isolated world brimming with dense sacred energy and vibrant universal rules, a rare cultivation sanctuary.
In an open expanse, countless books formed two towering mountains of texts. Two figures sat atop these book mountains, engrossed in their reading.
They were the awakened Confucian scholars, Bookworm and Hundred Folly.
Bookworm, clad in a scholar’s robe, appeared youthful, his hair tied in a bun, the epitome of a bookish gentleman. He held a book, swaying his head with delight as he read.
“Exploring the interplay of heaven and man, comprehending the changes of past and present. Splendid, splendid! This piece is brilliantly written, a timeless masterpiece!”
…
Hundred Folly, middle-aged and slightly stout, had dishevelled hair and a scruffy beard, utterly unkempt.
He pored over his book word by word, seemingly more absorbed than Bookworm.
The two were competing to see who could finish reading the Kunlun Realm’s historical records of the past hundred thousand years first.
As Confucian Saint Kings, they could use spiritual power to swiftly absorb the books’ contents, but they chose to read slowly, like ordinary mortals, with great patience.
Suddenly, Bookworm looked up, sensing a significant spatial fluctuation within the Qinghong Pavilion.
Faintly, space fractured, revealing a deep void connected to the void space.
An ancient bridge faintly materialized, spanning the void space, stretching from an unknown origin to the Qinghong Pavilion.
Figures stood upon the bridge, varied in form—some five feet tall, others towering at a hundred zhang.
“Friends come from afar; is it not delightful?” Bookworm chuckled.
No sooner had he spoken than a potent阴煞 (yin-sha) aura emanated from the void.
Bookworm’s expression tightened, pointing to the source, saying, “Trouble! Not friends, but the aura of the Hell Realm. How could Hell Realm beings appear in the Qinghong Pavilion? Let me take a closer look.”
“It’s a Void Chaos Bridge! The Hell Realm seeks to force their way here. Hundred Folly, this is dire, truly dire!”
Hundred Folly ignored him, stroking his beard, immersed in his book.
“Ten Thousand Words, Thousand Troops.”
With no choice, Bookworm acted alone.
He flicked his hand, and every character from his book detached, flying forth, manifesting as an army of thousands, charging toward the spatial void.
This “Ten Thousand Words, Thousand Troops” was clearly a remarkable Confucian technique.
“Boom!”
All阴煞 aura was shattered instantly.
The illusory army stormed into the void, suppressing a figure that had just stepped off the ancient bridge, forcing it back.
“Haha, a mere Kunlun Realm scholar sends you reeling. Jade Bone Emperor, your strength is far from challenging Zhang Ruochen,” a boisterous laugh rang out as another burly figure crossed the Void Chaos Bridge.
A low grunt sounded in the void, “Yan Wushen, don’t underestimate that scholar. His power is formidable.”
“You’re useless, but don’t assume everyone is. Watch me break his Ten Thousand Words, Thousand Troops.”
Yan Wushen strode forward, facing the textual army, his right hand forming a radiant golden handprint. His nine-zhang-six golden body activated, effortlessly wiping out the illusory troops.
With a single step, he ignored all barriers, forcibly descending into the Qinghong Pavilion.
“Rumble.”
His footfall shook the entire pavilion.
Having refined the Twin Life Flower, Yan Wushen had fully merged good and evil, reaching his true peak, exuding an aura of unrivalled dominance.
Bookworm froze, unprepared for someone below Great Saint to break his Ten Thousand Words, Thousand Troops.
Following Yan Wushen, dozens of Hell Realm beings stepped off the Void Chaos Bridge, crossing the void to enter the Qinghong Pavilion.
Their powerful auras oppressed the heavens, each capable of shaking myriad realms, the elite of the elite from the Hell Realm’s ten clans.
But the moment they arrived, they triggered the spatial arrays left by Master Fangcun within the pavilion.
“Swish.”
Yan Wushen let out a soft exclamation as the surrounding space rapidly contracted, forming a spatial cage.
The cage, like a hundred-zhang bubble, had chains of spatial power woven along its edges.
Not only Yan Wushen but other Hell Realm cultivators were also sealed in spatial cages.
Dozens of cages appeared, isolating the Hell Realm warriors.
“Intriguing, truly intriguing. The Kunlun Realm’s ancients prepared for us long ago.”
Yan Wushen remained calm, extending a finger to lightly touch the chains at the cage’s edge.
The chains rattled, clinking loudly.
The spatial cage shrank, halving its internal space.
“Best not touch those chains, lest the cage’s power crush you into dust,” Yan Wushen warned.
“The Confucian Ancestor said: Harmony is paramount in all things; avoid reckless conflict, as fighting harms civility,” Bookworm said.
A Six Tribulations Ghost King, trapped in a cage, sneered, “Scholar, are you mocking us?”
“Nay, nay! I mean, if we can avoid fighting, we should. Return whence you came; this is not your place,” Bookworm said patiently.
The Hell Realm warriors felt even more humiliated by Bookworm’s words.
Trapped in spatial cages yet lectured—was this not mockery?
Could there be any reconciliation between the Hell Realm and the Kunlun Realm?
“Once I break this wretched cage, I’ll devour your sacred soul first.”
The Six Tribulations Ghost King’s body grew enormous, reaching a hundred zhang, his hands pressing outward, shaking the cage violently.
“Best stay put!”
Bookworm moved, flying above the cage.
“Heaven and earth hold righteous qi, manifold in form. Below, it forms rivers and peaks; above, it becomes sun and stars.”
Bookworm recited the “Song of Righteous Qi in the Clouds.”
Bright white light radiated from him, transforming into vast righteous qi.
The righteous qi surged into the spatial bubble, forming mountains and rivers below and a sky of sun, moon, and stars above.
It attacked the Six Tribulations Ghost King within.
As a disciple of the Confucian Ancestor, Bookworm’s mastery of Confucianism reached realms beyond ordinary imagination.
His use of righteous qi surpassed even many Confucian Great Saints.
The trapped ghost king, Lan Xuezi, had cultivated the formidable “Mysterious Sha Ghost Body,” no weaker than the supreme perfected physiques of fleshly beings.
But now, he faced grave trouble.
The righteous qi burned fiercely, threatening to incinerate all his ghostly qi.
Lan Xuezi’s ghost body shrank to its original size, drawing a powerful ghost weapon—a ghost-headed war blade inscribed with hundreds of thousands of king-level patterns.
Ghost weapons, forged with unique ghost clan techniques, perfectly suited ghosts, greatly enhancing their combat power.
Each ghost weapon required consecration in the Ghost God Temple, making them exceedingly rare.
The Ghost God Temple, the ghost clan’s supreme shrine, stood eternal, a place all ghosts aspired to cultivate in.
Lan Xuezi, a genius nurtured by the Ghost God Temple, cultivated the ghost clan’s unique Heavenly Path.
Each of the Hell Realm’s ten clans had a temple, passing down Heavenly Paths distinct from the Heavenly Realm’s saintly paths, rivaling supreme saintly paths and even ancient paths.
These Heavenly Paths were immensely difficult to cultivate, accessible only to a select few who passed rigorous screenings to train in the ten temples.
Lan Xuezi cultivated the Mysterious Sha Heavenly Path, one of the ghost clan’s three Heavenly Paths, forming his near-indestructible Mysterious Sha Ghost Body.
Wielding his ghost weapon, Lan Xuezi channelled endless Mysterious Sha ghost qi, slashing a supreme blade light.
“Swish—”
The strike severed the righteous qi’s rivers and shattered its mountains.
Bookworm, unhurried, formed a hand seal, saying, “When it pierces sun and moon, life and death are trivial.”
A blazing sun and radiant moon appeared, illuminating the world, igniting all Mysterious Sha ghost qi.
“Thud.”
Lan Xuezi was struck by the sun and moon, sent flying.
His sturdy ghost body cracked, nearly shattering.
This blow left him gravely wounded, his Mysterious Sha ghost qi dispersed, unable to reform quickly.
It wasn’t his weakness but the Confucian power’s perfect counter.
“Rumble.”
As Bookworm prepared another attack, a spatial cage shattered, and the towering Yan Wushen broke free.
“Impressive scholar, you’ve got real skill. Take my palm.”
Yan Wushen became a streak of golden light, arriving instantly.
A golden palm, carrying unmatched force, struck at Bookworm.
Bookworm’s expression shifted, unprepared for Yan Wushen’s swift escape.
After all, the spatial arrays were crafted by Master Fangcun, exquisitely intricate. Even after a hundred thousand years, a Saint King shouldn’t break them easily.
With no time to think, Bookworm turned, unleashing a mighty fist seal, shattering the vacuum.
Having seen Yan Wushen break his Ten Thousand Words, Thousand Troops and force his way into the pavilion, Bookworm knew his foe’s terror and dared not be careless.
Though a Confucian scholar, Bookworm cultivated both martial arts and spiritual power to the Saint King realm’s peak, nearly forging an immortal sacred body.
“Thud.”
Bookworm’s fist seal was shattered by Yan Wushen’s golden hand.
A powerful force struck Bookworm, sending him flying.
“Pfft.”
Bookworm spat a mouthful of sacred blood, his aura chaotic.
“How is he so strong? Still a Saint King?” Bookworm was stunned.
After a hundred thousand years of slumber, he felt out of touch with the world.
Even in the Middle Ages, no prodigy as monstrous as Yan Wushen existed.
Yan Wushen smiled, saying, “Surviving my palm is impressive. I didn’t expect the Kunlun Realm to have a master like you besides Zhang Ruochen.”
With his current strength, a full-force palm could kill ordinary Great Saints, making him nearly invincible below that realm.
“The Confucian Ancestor said: Beyond the heavens, there are heavens; beyond men, there are men. Truly, I thought myself unmatched below Great Saint, yet someone surpasses me so vastly,” Bookworm said blankly.
Yan Wushen offered, “Join the Hell Realm, and I’ll spare your life.”
Bookworm shook his head firmly, saying gravely, “The Confucian Ancestor said: A gentleman acts and refrains as duty demands. The Kunlun Realm is paramount; personal life or death is secondary. I live to uphold the path, and die without regret.”
“I’m not here to hear your lectures. Since you won’t seize the chance, don’t blame me for being merciless,” Yan Wushen’s brows rose, his aura surging powerfully.
Bookworm said, “The gentleman attends to the root; when the root is firm, the path arises. Filial piety is the root of benevolence.”
“What a bookworm, prattling nonsense I can’t understand,” Yan Wushen’s eyes flashed with impatience.
He struck again, channelling power into his gauntlets, which blazed with golden light, supreme inscriptions emerging, unleashing waves of supreme power.
In an instant, Yan Wushen unleashed hundreds of punches, filling the sky with majestic fist seals like ancient divine mountains, enveloping Bookworm.
Bookworm unleashed potent spiritual power, activating the pavilion’s array patterns, hoping to counter Yan Wushen’s assault with the array’s strength.
With his spiritual power, countless array patterns activated instantly, weaving a net to bind the space.
“Boom.”
Yan Wushen’s fist seals were too domineering, shattering the array patterns.
Bookworm resisted fiercely but was struck by a fist seal, flying like a cannonball.
Though his sacred body was formidable, cracks appeared, nearly shattering under Yan Wushen’s blow.
“Hundred Folly, act now!” Bookworm shouted anxiously.
Hundred Folly, head still buried in his book, raised a hand irritably, saying, “Quiet, don’t disturb me while I’m reading.”
From start to finish, his focus never left his book, as if unaware of the intruders.
It seemed even Bookworm’s death wouldn’t concern him.
“Another scholar? Take my palm.”
Yan Wushen frowned, glancing at Hundred Folly, and struck with a palm.
“Boom!”
Billions of characters appeared around Hundred Folly, forming a great cauldron shielding him. But the book mountain beneath him exploded, reduced to ash.
Only then did Hundred Folly emerge from his book’s world, eyes blazing with anger.
“I said, don’t disturb me!”
Hundred Folly roared.
His righteous qi surged, condensing into a thousand-zhang cauldron, spinning toward Yan Wushen.
Yan Wushen exclaimed softly, striking with another golden palm.
“Thud.”
The palm and cauldron shattered, creating a terrifying shockwave.
Yan Wushen stood unmoved, while Hundred Folly staggered back several steps, unharmed.
Only now did Hundred Folly seem to awaken, sizing up Yan Wushen, saying, “Impressive, a perfected state. Such a prodigy truly exists.”
Bookworm flashed over, standing beside Hundred Folly.
“Matters have priorities, Hundred Folly. Set the competition aside. We must defend the Qinghong Pavilion and block them from the Flat Peach Tree’s realm,” Bookworm said gravely.
Hundred Folly’s gaze swept the dozens of spatial cages, saying, “Why so many Hell Realm cultivators suddenly invading? How did they know the pavilion’s exact coordinates?”
He saw the Void Chaos Bridge, understanding how Yan Wushen and the others arrived, but remained puzzled.
Since the Kunlun Realm became a merit battlefield, the Qinghong Pavilion had been concealed, its coordinates masked.
“Swoosh!”
“Swoosh!”
Space twisted slightly, and the sound of rushing wind followed.
Two figures闯入 (闯入 means “burst in”) from the central imperial city into the Qinghong Pavilion.
Both wore voluminous black robes, concealing their faces and forms, indistinguishable as male or female, emitting no aura, utterly enigmatic.
Though standing there, they seemed to exist in another space, untouchable and mysterious.
One black-robed figure, with a hoarse voice, said, “The Void Chaos Bridge is remarkable, reaching the pavilion with just coordinates.”
“Who are you? How did you pinpoint the pavilion’s coordinates?” Hundred Folly asked.
The speaking black-robed figure chuckled, “If one wishes to know, there are ways. Grand Chancellor Wang Shiqi and the seven Realm Sons all held clues.”
Bookworm and Hundred Folly realized these two must be Hell Realm’s informants within the Heavenly Realm.
Who could they be?
Heaven Realm faction cultivators?
“Have you brought it?” Yan Wushen asked.
The other black-robed figure, with a low voice, said, “We keep our promises.”
He produced a sacred jade, tossing it to Yan Wushen.
The jade sealed a mass of vibrant sacred blood, radiating nine-colored sacred light, extraordinary.
Yan Wushen caught the jade, a satisfied glint in his eyes.
The blood within was the key to activating the teleportation array, essential to locking onto the Flat Peach Tree’s precise coordinates.
“Our task is done. The rest is yours. Don’t fail,” the second black-robed figure said lowly.
Yan Wushen glanced at him, saying, “Your concern is unnecessary.”
The two black-robed figures said no more, using spatial techniques to depart the pavilion, returning to the central imperial city without delay.
“They left quickly. Afraid I’d kill them?” Yan Wushen murmured.
“Thud.”
One by one, the spatial cages shattered, and the Hell Realm’s dozens of warriors broke free.
These were elite warriors handpicked from the Hell Realm’s ten clans.
An ancient spatial cage couldn’t hold them.
The gravely wounded Blood Luo Ghost King emerged last, his eyes dark with fury. Having suffered a major setback upon arriving, nearly killed by Bookworm if not for Yan Wushen’s intervention, he felt profound humiliation.
Sensing the terrifying auras of the Hell Realm warriors, Bookworm and Hundred Folly’s expressions grew grave. The situation was truly dire.
One Yan Wushen was already formidable; with dozens more top-tier Hell Realm Saint Kings, how could they stop them?
