As Jiang Jiechang felt his life slipping further from his control, he suddenly saw a massive handprint of vital energy yank him from the Reincarnation Bridge.
Jiang Jiechang was overjoyed. If he could escape this calamity today, he’d slowly reclaim everything. So what if a half-step eternal wielded the Reincarnation Bridge? He, Jiang Jiechang, could still crush him. In this world, no one could treat him this way and live.
The next moment, Jiang Jiechang saw himself break free of Lan Xiaobu’s domain. He glimpsed Tai Xu Hall’s plaza, even the crowd of onlookers gathered there.
But to him, these were secondary. The moment he regained mobility, he’d trigger a forbidden technique and flee. Leave a wisp of his soul imprint to Lan Xiaobu? Absolutely out of the question.
Yet this thought lasted less than a breath before a chill surged in his heart. Before he could grasp why, twelve soul nails pierced his body, pinning him in the void.
Jiang Jiechang’s scalp tingled—not from Lan Xiaobu’s retaliation, but from the fact that someone could pin him in the void right here in Tai Xu Hall’s plaza.
The spatial rules of Tai Xu Hall’s plaza were among the divine realm’s finest. To find a spatial trace here and nail someone in place would likely require at least the realm of an eternal saint, wouldn’t it?
Not just Jiang Jiechang—the entire plaza fell into stunned silence. They’d seen him burst free of the Reincarnation Bridge, many assuming Lan Xiaobu had failed to hold him, letting him escape. But then the scene shifted abruptly, and Jiang Jiechang was pinned in the void. Clearly, Lan Xiaobu had no intention of killing him easily. This was a message: how Jiang Jiechang had treated his friends before, Lan Xiaobu would now repay him, the hall master, in kind.
Only two remained on the Reincarnation Bridge: an eighth-rank saint and the seventh-rank saint who’d arrived with Jiang Jiechang.
“Brother Lan, I never once attacked you. Even when I summoned a treasure for self-defense, I didn’t dare use an offensive one,” the eighth-rank saint said, voice trembling with fear.
Lan Xiaobu knew this woman was Zhi Yi. Indeed, she’d been retreating the whole time, only trapped by his Reincarnation Bridge, unable to escape.
His gaze shifted to the man. Though clutching a treasure, the man’s hands shook faintly. He knew full well that on this bridge, Lan Xiaobu could reap his life as easily as breathing.
“He’s Dong Yan. The Jiang Sen you killed was one of his men. I didn’t know at first—I’ve only been here a few decades. I learned of it after arriving. And there’s something else you might not believe, Brother Lan. The moment I got here, I told Jiang Jiechang to release your three friends, but he wouldn’t listen. If not for the Time Dao Scroll, I’d have left long ago. And you must know, even as an eighth-rank saint, if I obtained the Time Dao Scroll, Tai Xu Hall would hunt me down. My only option was to join them…” Zhi Yi’s tone was laced with panic.
She had genuinely raised this with Jiang Jiechang. During a Tai Xu Hall meeting, she’d suggested that nailing three cultivators outside damaged the hall’s dignity. They could imprison them in a cell, surround it with a top-tier trapping and killing array, and wait for Lan Xiaobu to come. Deep down, she felt wronged—she hadn’t joined Tai Xu Hall willingly, yet she’d been dragged into this.
“Lord Lan, I knew Jiang Sen, but I had no idea what he did. I…” Dong Yan barely got halfway through his sentence before Lan Xiaobu’s handprint slammed into his skull. The next moment, Dong Yan’s world was torn open.
Lan Xiaobu wasn’t blind to the killing intent Dong Yan had shown when arriving with Jiang Jiechang. But this Zhi Yi woman had displayed no such intent and had indeed been trying to flee.
Zhi Yi’s eyes widened in horror. She’d seen many powerhouses, even eternal saints, but never someone with Lan Xiaobu’s mastery of universal rules—tearing open an opponent’s world in a breath. This transcended her understanding of saints below eternal.
“Do you know why I haven’t killed you?” Lan Xiaobu looked at Zhi Yi, the last one standing on the bridge, her fear palpable, and spoke calmly.
Zhi Yi shook her head. She knew it wasn’t because she was a woman—Lan Xiaobu had already killed three far prettier than her.
“I’m not killing you because I believe you pleaded for my three friends once. Whatever your motive, I’ll spare you this time,” Lan Xiaobu said, eyeing her.
A wave of immense relief washed over Zhi Yi. She bowed deeply. When she straightened, the Reincarnation Bridge was gone, and she stood at Tai Xu Hall’s outskirts. Her heart reeled—compared to Lan Xiaobu, her eighth-rank sainthood felt like a sham.
By now, Tai Xu Hall lay in ruins. Its former forces had either fled or hidden.
Lan Xiaobu raised a hand, dismantling the hall’s defensive array, and declared loudly, “I’ll say it again: from now on, entry and exit to Tai Xu Tomb is free.”
“Thank you, Hall Master Lan!” Though Lan Xiaobu hadn’t claimed to establish a new Tai Xu Hall or declared himself its master, the crowd thanked him anyway, naturally viewing him as the new hall master after his proclamation.
To onlookers, if Lan Xiaobu weren’t after control of Tai Xu Tomb, he’d have simply rescued his friends and left, not cared about its accessibility.
“Impressive work, friend. I thought you were bidding for the Time Dao Scroll, but you just waltzed in and took it, haha…” The youth who’d offered to guard Mo Xiaoxi and the others approached, his laughter full of admiration.
Saying he “took” it was polite—he meant Lan Xiaobu had outright seized it.
“Let’s get acquainted. I’m Mo Shulei,” the youth said with a grin.
Lan Xiaobu nodded, “I’m Lan Xiaobu.”
Though Mo Shulei’s help hadn’t been needed to protect Mo Xiaoxi and the others, he had indeed stood guard while they recovered.
Hu Qingjia, the strongest of the three, was the first to heal. She hurried to Lan Xiaobu and bowed, “Big Brother Lan, you saved me again.”
Lan Xiaobu sighed, “You three were only dragged into this because of me. By the way, I heard Mo Nianyan was hunting Brother Kong, and you went to help. How’d you end up here?”
Hu Qingjia huffed, “That Mo Nianyan’s a real piece of work. Teaming up with that Dai Feirao woman was bad enough, but then she strutted around Great Desolation Divine Realm like she owned it. I’ve got an escape technique—took Brother Kong into the void, but we got caught in a vortex. Over the years, I’ve made some gains. After Brother Kong became a first-rank saint, we heard about Tai Xu Tomb and came here.”
Hu Qingjia was now a third-rank saint, Kong Fusheng a first-rank—both had progressed significantly. First-rank saints were rare; many lingered in pseudo-saint realms their whole lives.
By now, Kong Fusheng and Mo Xiaoxi had stabilized their injuries and came over to greet him.
The group reunited, sharing their pasts, each filled with emotion. Mo Xiaoxi had advanced to second-rank saint—not a small feat. But Lan Xiaobu heard no word of Qin Ku. As for Wen Keshu, Mo Xiaoxi’s father, Mo Qiu, had indeed saved her, but they’d been separated in the void’s chaos.
Not just Wen Keshu—Mo Xiaoxi had no news of her father either. She’d stumbled upon a fortunate encounter in the void, soaring to second-rank saint.
“Your friend’s a Mo too—we’re family!” Mo Shulei, ever the smooth talker, quickly bonded with Mo Xiaoxi over their shared surname.
Lan Xiaobu addressed the trio, “I’ll build a few cave abodes here and plan to seclusion for a while. Your injuries aren’t fully healed—stay and cultivate here for now.”
With Tai Chuan still missing, Lan Xiaobu wasn’t leaving.
“Right, this is a great spot for seclusion. I’d like to stay too—we’re all familiar, can look out for each other,” Mo Shulei clapped, as if cheering Lan Xiaobu’s idea.
Lan Xiaobu stared at him, bemused, thinking, What’s this got to do with you?
“Brother Lan, let me handle this. I’ll make it to your satisfaction,” Zhi Yi said, surprising Lan Xiaobu. She hadn’t fled and even dared to step up. He knew her well—she feared death above all.
But he didn’t mind. Having spared her, he had no intent to touch her again.
Seeing Lan Xiaobu say nothing, Zhi Yi took it as approval and began constructing a new Tai Xu Hall.
Mo Shulei rubbed his hands, a bit awkwardly, “Friend Lan, there’s something I’d like your help with.”
“Go ahead. I’ll see if I can assist,” Lan Xiaobu replied, knowing Mo Shulei must have a reason—why else would he volunteer to guard Mo Xiaoxi’s group?
