Chapter 971

“The world is truly dangerous…”

Jiang Ding murmured.

Even someone as humble, honest, and innocent as he, who never sought trouble, could suddenly suffer an unforeseen disaster for no reason at all.

Had it not been for the Yu Xianmen as his backing, he might now be unaware that his soul had been possessed—perhaps not dead, but certainly a pawn, a slave, with life and death no longer his own.

Jiang Ding released the hundred-legged Zhenjun’s carapace and the segment of its storage appendage, letting them fall into the sea, sinking deep into the ocean floor, buried beneath the seabed mud.

These items were worth at least tens of trillions of low-grade spirit stones, but they were no longer safe.

A flicker of hatred surfaced in Jiang Ding’s heart, then vanished.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“I’m not angry at all—Senior took pity on me and offered some guidance.”

“This is trust. This is an honor…”

Jiang Ding kept mentally hypnotizing himself, letting his resentment dissolve.

The weak should not harbor resentment.

To overly powerful cultivators, this is instantly obvious—too dangerous, likely to lead to death.

“I’m a supremely generous person… a supremely kind person…”

“So kind, so pure—how could I possibly hold a grudge? Impossible…”

As he kept thinking this, Jiang Ding soon forgot the incident and grew cheerful again.

Around him, spatial runes appeared, and teleportation activated—this was the power of the Great Sun World-Defining Array, which cost hundreds of millions of low-grade spirit stones to enable free teleportation within the realm.

It seemed like a lot, but for a Zhenjun, it was merely one percent of his annual income.

And Zhenjuns measured time in centuries, not years—the way mortals did. Spending hundreds of millions of low-grade spirit stones was, therefore, quite cheap.

Not long after, Jiang Ding appeared in a corner of the Western Desert, digging up an ice vault from ten thousand meters beneath the desert sands, retrieving the final secret vault of the Ice Phoenix clan.

He returned to Liu Xianmen carrying a single egg, the size of a human head, from the Ice Phoenix.

Hei Mo Gong.

Jiang Ding sat upon a pitch-black throne, hand resting on his sword hilt.

Behind him, six swirling shadows of the Wheel of Reincarnation rose and sank—legacy from the ancient Liu Xianmen.

The palace was utterly silent.

Only the wind and occasional flickers of magnetic yuan light remained.

Jiang Ding pondered for a long time.

“Jianzi.”

Hei, the Chuancheng messenger of the Sword Pavilion, appeared in Hei Mo Gong, bowing respectfully.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the green-robed boy upon the throne, his heart filled with many reflections.

The Great Sun Jianzi seemed to be returning to the path of the Sword Pavilion, growing ever more like a true Jianzi—even surpassing all past Jianzi in the sect’s ability to transmit its legacy and cultivate disciples.

The Great Sun Sword cultivators were beginning to revive in this barren small world.

This was something Ming Guangzi could never achieve—he only knew how to fight and kill.

In contrast, the Great Sun Jianzi, influenced by the Eastern Ji Demon Gate, excelled in this regard, and true Great Sun Sword cultivators were now emerging.

The wisdom of past Sword Pavilion ancestors was indeed profound.

Everything had been within their calculations.

“Hei, my name,” Jiang Ding spoke slowly, “is Ming Guangzi. Over a thousand years ago, after a fierce battle with Shuo Yang Zhenjun, I was gravely wounded and went into hiding—only recently have I begun to recover.”

“Having endured much, my conduct has changed slightly.”

Jiang Ding spoke slowly: “My name is Mingguangzi. After suffering severe injuries in a battle with Shuoyang Tianjun over a thousand years ago, I went into hiding and have only recently begun to recover.”

“Having experienced much, my ways have changed somewhat.”

“Black, do you have anything to add?”

Hei’s expression went slack, stunned.

You’re a pile of shit if you think you’re Ming Guangzi!

He thought bitterly—Ming Guangzi would never be so timid, always running away at the first sign of trouble.

I can’t even fathom how you cultivated your sword intent.

Yes, he was old and sharp-eyed—he saw at a glance that the green-robed boy before him had encountered an enemy, and a powerful one at that, one he could never defeat.

I truly don’t know how you cultivated such a sword intent.

Yes, the old man was shrewd as ever—he saw at a glance that the green-robed youth before him had once again encountered an enemy, and a powerful one at that, one he stood almost no chance against.

“This...”

“Jianzi, it’s difficult.”

Hei forced himself to speak: “My true body, along with the Great Sun Heavenly Pool and Yue Ling—we cannot interfere in sacred sword duels. We cannot apply any means to the Great Sun Jianzi, under any circumstances.”

“This is a taboo set by our ancestral masters—untouchable.”

“Your actions... seem to suggest using another’s blade to kill.”

“This is a taboo established by our ancestral masters, untouchable.”

Jiang Ding frowned.

He waved his hand, offering no reprimand, and dismissed the Sword Pavilion’s Chuancheng messenger Hei.

The many protective spirits of the Great Sun Sword Pavilion were merely protective spirits—not his own cultivated subordinates, not extensions of his will. Many things they simply could not do.

Jiang Ding closed his eyes slightly.

In his mind-sea, one hundred and eight thousand sword-shaped starlights flickered—these were his one hundred and eight thousand maidservants, fifty-nine of whom were Nascent Soul level, more than half Golden Core, gathering the world’s greatest talents.

They could easily form a Nascent Soul mid-stage formation, suppressing all who dared defy.

Most crucially, they were his own cultivated force—capable of executing any order, even surrounding and killing Ming Guangzi without hesitation—unlike the Great Sun Sword cultivators, Hei, Yue, and others, who merely watched two Jianzi fight to the death, then pledged loyalty to the survivor.

Of course, a mere underdeveloped Ming Guangzi hardly warranted a surround—Jiang Ding could suppress him with one hand.

“...Ming Guangzi... millennia of revival... restoring the realm...”

Jiang Ding summoned no one, gave no orders—only subtly spread subconscious information at the soul level, employing principles of the Dao of Cause and Effect to simulate genuine causal threads.

Yes, the Dao of Cause and Effect could be wielded not only through spiritual sense and magic power, but also through living beings and the natural world.

This was mentioned in Shuo Yang Zhenjun’s “Three Fates Theory” and in numerous scriptures of the immortal sects.

The latter two methods were even more natural—the most orthodox path of Cause and Effect.

But they required time to ferment—hundreds, even thousands of years—before the technique became reality.

Through endless time and space, even the most powerful immortal masters wielding Cause and Effect could hardly trace the true truth.

In the web of Cause and Effect, he was Ming Guangzi—the last Great Sun Jianzi of the Sword Pavilion.

It requires time to ferment—centuries, even millennia—before the art can manifest as reality.

All were from the Great Sun Sword Pavilion legacy. All were Great Sun Jianzi. All wielded Great Sun Flying Swords.

Who would believe they weren’t the same person?

Whoever wants to kill him—go after Ming Guangzi. All deeds, all troubles—they were Ming Guangzi’s. Not his.

This was the third layer of disguise under Tu Shan Zhongting, the Sword Pavilion legacy, beneath Tu Shan Zhenjun—and more layers would follow. His true self remained hidden in the mists of time and space, beyond any detection.

“Wait for time to ferment.”

“Time is truly a wonderful thing—even the weakest technique, when fermented by time, grows strong enough for the weak to Kangheng the strong on the level of information. This is the only mercy the Immortal Dao offers the weak...”

This is the Middle Courtyard of Tushan, the Sword Pavilion’s legacy, the third layer of disguise beneath Tushan Tianjun, and more layers will continue to be added; the true form is hidden within the mists of time and space, beyond the reach of any to discern its true origin.

No matter how invincible you are, how peerless, how capable of destroying stars and suns—you cannot touch those hidden in distant time. It was profoundly secure.

Time is truly a wonderful thing; even the weakest spell, when fermented by time, can grow powerful enough for the weak to Kangheng the strong on the level of information—this is the only mercy the Immortal Dao offers the weak...

Jiang Ding could not help but admire.

No matter how invincible you are, how unmatched in the world, how easily you can destroy stars and suns, you can do nothing against those who exist in the distant past—how secure it is.