Lan Xiaobu left Saint Island, and just as when he arrived, no one paid any attention.
At the same time, in a cave mansion within the cluster of high-grade cave dwellings on the eastern side of the golden Sacred Dao City, a tall, thin man with a pale complexion was gazing joyfully at a grey dao fruit in his hand.
To be precise, it wasn’t a dao fruit—it was a seed of the Curse Great Dao.
In the vast cosmos, this seed was unique, the only one of its kind. It wasn’t something condensed by a powerful cultivator but had existed alongside his Curse Dao Scroll since the dawn of creation. He was certain even Lan Xiaobu wouldn’t suspect he possessed such a Curse Dao Seed.
Previously, he hadn’t considered that the Curse Dao Seed could be fully refined. This seed had come with the Curse Dao Scroll, nurtured for countless years, yet it had always remained lukewarm, never reaching its refining limit.
But this time, after Lan Xiaobu severed his Curse Great Dao, he’d stumbled upon Saint Island while fleeing. Here, his Curse Dao Seed had finally completed its refinement.
Once he fused this seed into his Curse Great Dao, not only would his dao recover, but it would ascend to a higher level. Beyond that, he could seize the chance to break through to Third-Turn Saint in one leap.
His Curse Great Dao would essentially undergo a rebirth through the seed—a stroke of fortune, perhaps.
Sometimes, the line between misfortune and blessing was hard to discern. He’d thought his life was ruined, yet his Curse Dao Seed had refined itself. With that, both his dao and strength would rise to a whole new tier.
Fang Zhifan took a deep breath, setting aside his seething hatred for Lan Xiaobu, vast as three rivers and five seas. Once he reached Third-Turn Saint, he’d crush Lan Xiaobu. If he didn’t torment Lan Xiaobu for ten thousand years, he, Fang Zhifan, would have lived in vain.
Since mastering the Curse Great Dao, he’d never suffered such humiliation—chased like a dog for years. Without Saint Island, he’d still be fleeing like a cur. Even with the fortunate refinement of his Curse Dao Seed, he wouldn’t let Lan Xiaobu off.
As a practitioner of the Curse Great Dao, Fang Zhifan knew the seed’s value. It was a thing of legend, and he held it in his hands.
So, when using it, he was exceedingly cautious.
To rebirth his Curse Great Dao with the seed, he first had to completely sever his existing Curse Great Dao. Lan Xiaobu had used the Curse Dao Scroll to strip it away before, but it wasn’t thorough—Fang Zhifan had burned his dao foundation to escape.
To rebuild his foundation and rebirth his Curse Great Dao with the seed, he had to purge every last remnant of the dao rules the scroll hadn’t taken, allowing a full renewal.
Once his mind settled completely, Fang Zhifan set the Curse Dao Seed aside and began forming intricate dao hand seals. With each seal, the aura of his Curse Dao weakened slightly, and his own presence diminished a fraction.
Three full days passed. Grey blood trickled from Fang Zhifan’s mouth, his face growing paler. By now, the aura of his Curse Dao had vanished entirely—he’d severed it completely.
Fang Zhifan exhaled in relief, popping a few pills into his mouth.
But as he reached for the Curse Dao Seed, his expression twisted. His whole body contorted, a faint, unnatural flush coloring his pale face. The grey blood at his mouth turned purple-red, spilling incessantly…
“Kun Wei, you despicable wretch…” Fang Zhifan spat out each word.
In his sea of consciousness, Kun Wei’s faint primordial spirit was devouring Fang Zhifan’s weakened one—an obvious attempt at possession.
Kun Wei was weak enough, but Fang Zhifan was weaker still. And Kun Wei had chosen the perfect moment—striking when Fang Zhifan had severed his Curse Great Dao, leaving him at his most defenseless.
Two feeble primordial spirits clashed, like novices pecking at each other.
“Kun Wei, you’re the Dao Lord of the Eternal Life Dao Court, yet you act so vilely. You must’ve hidden in my sea of consciousness long ago with a trace of curse dao charm you learned from me, plotting to possess me…” Fang Zhifan’s voice brimmed with fury and unwillingness.
After being crippled by Lan Xiaobu, failing to detect Kun Wei’s presence was one thing. But even before that, he hadn’t noticed. Clearly, this trace of Kun Wei’s intent had lurked in his Curse Dao rules for ages. He’d been too careless—or too trusting—to realize Kun Wei hadn’t been fully eradicated.
Kun Wei’s disdainful voice rang out. “Fang Zhifan, you think I’ve long planned to possess your pathetic body? Heh, back then, even if you begged on your knees, I wouldn’t have bothered. You’re the real卑鄙小人 (despicable wretch). I gave you the best place to cultivate, let you recover, even saved you—and you bit me when I was down.”
Fang Zhifan gave a bitter laugh. “Me, despicable? If the Jie Jiao Sect Master hadn’t crippled you, I’d have been undone by you long ago—where would you get the chance to possess me? I get it now—you fused a trace of curse dao rules into my Curse Great Dao foundation ages ago. You’re not after my body—you’re after my Curse Great Dao. Ha, I was such a fool to think I could outscheme a cunning snake like you…”
Kun Wei said coldly, “You did outscheme me. You’re not foolish—I just underestimated you. I planned to use the chance to strip your Curse Great Dao and reshape a body. But you’re so useless, letting someone else cut it away. I lost my shot at a new body, so even though you’re trash, I’ve got no choice but to possess you.”
“Right, possess me, and you can use my Curse Dao Seed to reforge the Curse Great Dao,” Fang Zhifan sneered, his voice growing fainter—he was on the verge of being overtaken.
Kun Wei chuckled. “Reforge the Curse Great Dao with your seed? Am I, Kun Wei, as stupid as you, Fang Zhifan?”
To Kun Wei, he knew he couldn’t reforge the Curse Great Dao. He wasn’t Fang Zhifan—he’d never cultivated it, nor did he have the Curse Dao Scroll. How could he?
Plus, he deeply feared Lan Xiaobu. Lan Xiaobu clearly despised Curse Great Dao practitioners—why else chase Fang Zhifan all the way to Saint Island? If Kun Wei took up that dao, Lan Xiaobu wouldn’t spare him. He didn’t want to end up like Fang Zhifan, hunted down. And anyway, he couldn’t cultivate it.
“Kun Wei, if there’s reincarnation, I, Fang Zhifan, will never let you go,” Fang Zhifan’s anguished cry echoed before fading away. He’d just been musing about fortune and misfortune—how Lan Xiaobu’s pursuit led to his Curse Dao Seed’s refinement. Now he saw that fortune could be a curse’s root. Without the seed prompting him to sever his foundation, Kun Wei couldn’t have possessed him. Once his Curse Great Dao rebirthed, Kun Wei would’ve had nowhere to hide.
Now, though Fang Zhifan’s body sat in the cave, it was Kun Wei inside.
Kun Wei let out a long breath. If Fang Zhifan hadn’t severed that last trace of his Curse Great Dao, he wouldn’t have succeeded today.
Plans were plans, but they couldn’t keep up with change. He hadn’t wanted Fang Zhifan’s body—he’d wanted his Curse Great Dao, the Grand Curse Technique. Now, he’d settled for a body he despised, and only succeeded because of his enemy, Lan Xiaobu. Life was ironic.
Kun Wei didn’t destroy the Curse Dao Seed Fang Zhifan had left aside. Instead, he took out a jade box and carefully placed the seed inside.
This seed was immensely valuable. He couldn’t use it now, but it might save his life later. For Kun Wei, the priority was restoring his strength. Even if he couldn’t quickly return to Second-Turn Saint, he needed to reach First-Turn Saint and leave Saint Island for the Eternal Life Dao Court. He trusted that in his absence, Cheng Yuyan wouldn’t let him down.
…
Lan Xiaobu paused. He stood on a small island, its natural treasures long plundered, its heaven-and-earth vitality thin.
Waves of the Eternal Life Sea crashed against the island’s edge, bringing no life or bustle—only a deeper sense of solitude.
Standing on a reef, Lan Xiaobu had come to break through to First-Turn Saint. Yet, in the boundless depths of the Eternal Life Sea, on this lonely island, he felt isolation.
After a long while, he shook off the tangled thoughts and stepped into the island’s interior.
Embedding two chaotic divine spirit veins, he began setting up concealment and protective arrays.
Days later, with everything in place, he even brought out the over 20 million divine essence pills from the Divine Origin Hall, infused with the cosmic heart’s creation aura.
No matter what, he had to prove First-Turn Saint in the shortest time possible. Otherwise, returning to Saint Island—or even the Great Desolate Divine Realm—would be pointless with just a Quasi-Saint cultivation.
The charm of the Eternal Life Technique flowed around him. Dense chaotic divine qi peeled off the veins and pills, forming a faint vortex around him.
Yet Lan Xiaobu found himself stuck in endless deduction—he didn’t know how to prove First-Turn Saint.
From Zhusun and other Saints, he’d gathered some insights about advancing from First- to Ninth-Turn Saint. There were many paths: severing the dao, reincarnation, karma, merit, willpower, causality, primordial chaos rules, fortune…
Even entrusting one’s spirit to a top-tier treasure could work.
But which path was right for his Saintly Great Dao?
