In the Qinghong Pavilion, deep within the bamboo groves, a vast peach orchard flourished. It was the season of blooming peach blossoms, each tree adorned with delicate pink and white flowers, creating a dreamlike, enchanting scene.
“Boom!”
“Rumble!”
…
Bookworm and Hundred Folly, bloodied and battered, stood outside the peach orchard, desperately fending off the Hell Realm’s warriors, preventing them from entering.
Both were immensely powerful, among the top Saint Kings in the myriad realms. Hundred Folly, in particular, could almost rival Yan Wushen in his initial fusion of good and evil.
Without Zhang Ruochen and Yan Wushen, Hundred Folly could have been the protagonist of this era.
But two fists cannot match four hands. Against dozens of the Hell Realm’s finest warriors, even their strength faltered.
Fortunately, the Qinghong Pavilion was fortified with Master Fangcun’s intricate arrangements, allowing Bookworm and Hundred Folly to fight while retreating, barely holding on.
Otherwise, they would have long been obliterated.
During this struggle, they heavily injured three Hell Realm warriors, nearly killing the ghost clan’s Lan Xuezi.
The *Confucian Ancestor’s Sacred Book* radiated brilliant sacred light, its thousands of characters transforming into a starry sky, swirling around Bookworm and Hundred Folly, blocking most attacks.
This *Confucian Ancestor’s Sacred Book* was not the one held by the Saintly Scholar but was personally penned by their master, the last Confucian Ancestor.
Each of the four Confucian Ancestors had left behind a *Confucian Ancestor’s Sacred Book*, both a supreme treasure and the embodiment of Confucianism’s profound legacy.
These four books were the crystallization of the Ancestors’ wisdom, the cornerstone of Confucian heritage.
As long as the *Sacred Book* endured, Confucianism would never perish.
As direct disciples of the Confucian Ancestor, Bookworm and Hundred Folly were more attuned to their master’s *Sacred Book* than anyone, unleashing its immense power.
“You two scholars are tenacious. The Kunlun Realm’s fall is inevitable; no matter how you struggle, you can’t change it. You both have the potential to become gods—dying here would be a pity. The Hell Realm is your best refuge,” Yan Wushen said.
“Cough, cough.”
Bookworm coughed violently, his body staggering, nearly collapsing.
His body was riddled with cracks, his sacred blood nearly drained, gravely wounded, sustained only by sheer willpower.
Steadying himself, Bookworm said, “The Confucian Ancestor said: When heaven bestows a great mission on a person, it first tests their resolve, exhausts their strength, starves their body, and disrupts their actions, to stir their heart and temper their nature, enhancing what they lack.”
“If I lose the conviction I hold, even living would be like a walking corpse—not my desire.”
Hearing this, many Hell Realm warriors frowned deeply. Since entering the pavilion, Bookworm had been spouting endless principles, prattling incessantly, utterly irritating.
Only Yan Wushen felt a spark of admiration; others wanted to slap him dead.
Lan Xuezi’s eyes gleamed with malice, saying, “Scholar, since you seek death, I’ll oblige. I’ll devour your sacred soul.”
“His soul must be brimming with righteous qi, Lan Xuezi. You’d struggle to handle it—better leave it to me,” a Nether Clan warrior with ashen wings laughed.
Lan Xuezi glared coldly at the speaker, saying, “Nether Demon, don’t mock me. If you faced that attack, you’d fare no better.”
“Don’t compare me to you. My Evil Nether War Body isn’t fazed by mere righteous qi,” Nether Demon said arrogantly.
Nether Demon, from the Nether Clan, was a genius nurtured by the Nether Temple, mastering the Evil Nether Heavenly Path, one of the clan’s five Heavenly Paths, his strength formidable.
Slightly stronger than Nether Yao and Nether Buddha, he led the Nether Clan in this mission.
As Lan Xuezi was about to retort, a Shura Clan warrior interjected, “Stop bickering. Deal with them first, then do as you please. Master Fangcun’s teleportation array lies deep in the peach orchard. Break through quickly to complete the gods’ mission.”
This warrior, with four eyes and four arms, was surrounded by faint time imprints, altering the time flow around him.
He was Wan Xin, disciple of Xiu Chen Heavenly God, a time controller trained by the Shura Temple. Though low-profile and lesser-known, no one dared underestimate him.
Had it not been for Zhang Ruochen’s body, Wan Xin would never have come to the Kunlun Realm or joined this mission.
Yan Wushen glanced at Wan Xin, saying, “Strike with full force; delays breed complications.”
With that, Yan Wushen channelled his nine-zhang-six golden body’s power into his supreme sacred artifact gauntlets, unleashing a domineering fist technique.
The other Hell Realm warriors acted without hesitation, knowing the gravity of their task.
Bookworm and Hundred Folly grew solemn, mustering all their focus, releasing spiritual power and sacred energy without reserve, activating the pavilion’s arrays to their fullest.
They clasped their hands, merging their essence, spirit, and the peach orchard behind them.
“Rustle.”
The peach trees swayed, faint traces of divine qi emanating, converging toward Bookworm and Hundred Folly.
Derived from the Flat Peach Tree, the orchard naturally carried traces of divine power, now gathered by the two scholars.
It was the Flat Peach Tree’s power.
Though slight, it was divine.
Some divine power merged into their bodies, healing their wounds.
Most infused the arrays, solidifying the patterns.
No matter how dire, Bookworm and Hundred Folly showed no sign of yielding.
…
Elsewhere, Zhang Ruochen led his group, driving the altar swiftly toward the Qinghong Pavilion.
Upon reaching the Bamboo Serenity Valley, the altar halted.
Not by choice, but blocked by an invisible barrier.
“A Boundary-Sealing Talisman, no wonder it went unnoticed,” Lu Baiming’s eyes gleamed.
Only top-tier talisman masters or heavenly talisman masters could craft a Boundary-Sealing Talisman, capable of isolating a realm, masking all traces, undetectable even by gods.
The barrier it formed was immensely sturdy, nearly impossible to breach from outside, even for a Hundred-Shackle Realm Great Saint.
Undoubtedly, the Hell Realm had deployed a talisman master to wield the talisman.
Zhang Ruochen assessed it, saying, “A formidable seal, stronger than the Heaven Realm faction’s setup at the Ziwei Palace.”
With this barrier, even if someone noticed the valley’s anomaly, they’d be helpless.
“The Heaven Realm faction has my sacred blood. Once they break the pavilion’s arrays, they can activate the teleportation array and locate the Flat Peach Tree’s coordinates. We can’t delay,” the Nine-Heavens Mysterious Lady said gravely.
Zhang Ruochen nodded, ordering, “Fully activate the altar to tear through the barrier.”
The best option was to rally the Heavenly Realm’s army to attack the talisman, which wouldn’t be too difficult.
But time was critical, and Zhang Ruochen had no time for that.
Moreover, the Heavenly Realm’s army was divided into factions, hard to mobilize.
In such times, self-reliance was better than seeking help.
The altar’s power surged, its blood-red patterns reviving, radiating dazzling sacred light, striking the valley.
“Thud.”
The barrier shimmered, rippling like water, but held firm.
Zhang Ruochen’s eyes narrowed; the talisman’s strength exceeded his expectations.
“I’ll borrow a treasure to break the talisman,” the Nine-Heavens Mysterious Lady said urgently, transforming into a beam of sacred light and speeding away.
Noting her direction, Zhang Ruochen mused, vaguely guessing the treasure she sought.
Refocusing, he ordered, “Keep attacking.”
The sooner they breached the pavilion, the greater the chance of saving the Flat Peach Tree.
Once its coordinates were locked, even with Heavenly Realm gods intervening, the Hell Realm likely had means to sever the tree instantly.
At that point, all efforts would be futile.
On a nearby peak, two figures stood, watching the altar.
They were the black-robed figures who delivered the sacred blood to the Hell Realm.
“How is Zhang Ruochen here? Did something go wrong at the Ziwei Palace?” one trembled.
With nearly all the Heaven Realm faction’s elite at the Ziwei Palace, a failure would be catastrophic.
The other said, “Leave now.”
They dared not linger where Zhang Ruochen was.
But as they tried to depart, the surrounding space solidified.
“Trouble.”
Both sensed danger.
“Swish.”
A silver book appeared, flipping open to manifest dozens of multidimensional spaces, enveloping them.
One black-robed figure acted decisively, producing a silver-glowing talisman, unleashing it.
Countless spatial inscriptions emerged, releasing terrifying spatial power, attempting to tear the multidimensional spaces.
The other produced a damaged array diagram, striking hundreds of array seals, fully activating it.
“Boom.”
The multidimensional spaces trembled, cracking but not collapsing.
The silver book closed, and the two figures vanished with the spaces.
On the altar, Zhang Ruochen grabbed the *Secret Code of Time and Space*.
His senses were razor-sharp. Despite their concealed auras, he detected them instantly, discerning their identities.
Opening the *Secret Code*, a page revealed the two struggling figures, unable to move.
With a slight gesture, Zhang Ruochen unveiled their true faces.
One was familiar—Zhou Zhen, leader of the Array Extinction Palace.
The other, youthful, about twenty, with handsome features and silver hair, had eyes pitch-black without whites.
“Shentu Yunkong, leader of the Space Temple.”
Zhang Ruochen’s eyes gleamed.
The Space Temple’s greatest genius in ten thousand years, with exceptional spatial talent, rumored to potentially master the Path of Space to perfection.
Unexpectedly, Shentu Yunkong was in the Kunlun Realm.
Surprisingly, he wasn’t in the Space Temple but observing outside the Bamboo Serenity Valley.
At such a critical time, their presence here was suspicious.
Zhang Ruochen grabbed their possessions from the *Secret Code*.
His gaze locked onto a spatial orb.
Inside were two bloodied, tortured figures.
“Wang Shiqi, Suihan.”
Using spatial techniques, Zhang Ruochen freed them.
With a wave, he infused them with the Spring of Life.
Surviving, unlike the Confucian scholars killed in the Lianzhu Mansion, Wang Shiqi and Suihan were fortunate.
Zhang Ruochen searched their items but found no trace of the Nine-Heavens Mysterious Lady’s sacred blood, his heart sinking.
As expected, the blood was likely in the Hell Realm’s hands, endangering the Flat Peach Tree.
“Break the talisman at all costs,” Zhang Ruochen ordered gravely.
He had no time to interrogate Shentu Yunkong and Zhou Zhen; entering the pavilion was paramount.
“Someone’s attacking from outside,” a Hell Realm warrior sensed.
The Rakshasa Clan’s Bloodwing Grand Prince said gravely, “It’s Zhang Ruochen. He survived the Heaven Realm faction’s ambush.”
“Boom.”
A louder disturbance followed.
The talisman’s barrier was torn open.
Using spatial techniques, Zhang Ruochen drove the altar through at top speed.
The barrier’s restoration was swift, sealing the tear instantly.
Zhang Ruochen ignored this, steering the altar into the valley.
Soon, the space opened up, the universal rules vibrant.
This once-beautiful world was now desolate, its vitality nearly extinguished, a wasteland.
Zhang Ruochen had visited the pavilion before, but his low cultivation then hid its secrets. He hadn’t realized it held such a vast realm.
The altar advanced, reaching the peach orchard.
“Someone’s here at last. Heaven hasn’t forsaken the Kunlun Realm,” Bookworm said joyfully.
Hundred Folly locked onto Zhang Ruochen, saying, “Another perfected prodigy. What a terrifying era.”
Yan Wushen alone had shocked him; now Zhang Ruochen appeared.
Having slept too long, the world felt incomprehensible.
Yan Wushen stepped forward, striding through the air, locking eyes with Zhang Ruochen, saying loudly, “Zhang Ruochen, I’m glad you didn’t die by the Heaven Realm faction’s hands. Now we can continue our unfinished battle.”
His battle intent surged, the realm’s sacred energy and rules rushing toward him.
Zhang Ruochen sensed Yan Wushen’s transformation, having fully fused good and evil, reaching his true peak.
Compared to his initial fusion, Yan Wushen’s strength had soared.
Facing such a formidable foe, Zhang Ruochen’s battle intent also rose.
With his current strength, only Yan Wushen could be his match below Great Saint. In this era, perhaps only they had reached Saint King perfection.
After a moment, Yan Wushen said, “So, you’ve also reached Saint King perfection. Good, very good. Only this makes the fight worthwhile.”
He didn’t fear Zhang Ruochen’s growth but worried he’d be too weak.
Defeating him too easily would be dull.
Unrivalled for centuries in the merit battlefield, Yan Wushen had longed for a worthy opponent, and Zhang Ruochen’s emergence was long-awaited.
Hearing Yan Wushen, the Hell Realm warriors were stunned.
A prodigy like Yan Wushen, rare in an eon, took centuries and perilous paths to succeed. How long had Zhang Ruochen cultivated to achieve this?
His growth was unfathomable.
Except for Yan Wushen, few could gauge Zhang Ruochen’s depths, sensing only his unfathomable power.
In their eyes, even early Hundred-Shackle Realm Great Saints might not best them.
Only Wan Xin’s eyes gleamed, thinking, “The ultimate Five Elements Chaos Body, Saint King perfection, rumored to have cultivated multiple saintly aspects, like a being beyond the Five Elements. A perfect body.”
His master would surely covet such a rare physique.
Even Xiu Chen Heavenly God hadn’t reached Zhang Ruochen’s level as a Saint King.
Seizing Zhang Ruochen’s body would swiftly boost Xiu Chen’s power.
And then, as his disciple, Wan Xin’s status in the Shura Clan would soar.
