Chapter 547: Fireworks (The End of Zhutian City)

Blue Star, Blue Star →: xuanshu

"Dad, I'm leaving," Yang Jian greeted the man he had only ever seen in a portrait.

"Will you come back for dinner tonight? Your mom and your aunt went shopping and said they'd buy you snacks," Yang Xiaotian said, wiping his greasy hands with a corner of his apron as he stepped out of the kitchen.

He looked like a househusband; the sharp, pungent scent of chopped chili peppers still drifted out with the kitchen smoke.

Yang Jian didn't know how to answer. He stared at the figure so similar to himself and said:

"Next time."

In the end, he still didn't hand over the Universal Communication Token to awaken the man's true self-awareness.

True, doing so would give him plenty of useful intelligence—this father, who felt no emotional bond with him, could assist as a messenger of the Ghost Post Office.

He knew the framework of the future, but the details were crucial.

In the past, he would have made this choice without hesitation.

But now, perhaps because the urgency of life-or-death danger had faded somewhat.

'Or perhaps'

Yang Jian cast one last look at the bright room; if he could, he'd very much like to bring his mother's true body here to spend her old age in this world.

But how many possibilities are there? Assess the situation, understand yourself.

When you lack power, adapt—that's not out of inner strength, but because only then can you survive better.

The big shots in the group said this world was built on the sacrifice of other worlds, so it must be destroyed.

If it were up to him, he might not choose to destroy it—after all, he couldn't even see the other worlds.

But now, he wasn't forced to choose between just two options.

Even if he returned to that world, given time, he could fully protect his mother and live well.

Maybe he could even end the Era of Supernatural Phenomena early and secure a cross-world position.

"Before the Heavenly Court returned, I was constantly away handling supernatural incidents, making your mother suffer—and you too."

Yang Xiaotian sighed:

"You've matured earlier than I imagined. I won't bother giving you advice—society is complicated; some people you can trust, others you can't. You should be able to judge for yourself."

As Yang Jian turned to leave, Yang Xiaotian's words made him freeze.

"You had no choice—you had to provide for the family. You did it for us," Yang Jian said.

Yang Xiaotian smiled: "Actually, I never wanted you to follow your cousin's path. The responsibility is too great, the risks too high. I just want you to be safe."

"Your cousin just went out on enforcement duty—that's fighting with knives."

"What can you do? Gotta earn your bread," Yang Jian shrugged.

Although everyone in this world had strange perceptions and memories, and their speech was full of oddities, Yang Jian had gradually grown used to it.

"It's not like there's only this one bowl of rice—you could get a job at Ye Zhetian Corporation too… but never mind, I saw the news—they're 007."

Yang Xiaotian waved his hand: "Health matters too. If all else fails, you could drive a bus—I know an old man who drives one; every day after work, he just drinks tea and buys lottery tickets. His life is so relaxed."

That old man you're talking about must win the lottery every day to be this relaxed, right?

Yang Jian felt he couldn't respond—he chose silence, then stopped walking: "What if my exam results are terrible and I'm forced to take my cousin's path?"

Yang Xiaotian thought for a moment and said: "Then I can only hope you do your best—fulfill your duties while protecting yourself."

Yang Jian nodded, put on his shoes, and opened the iron door, already fainting in presence and color.

"Smile more when you have nothing to do."

Yang Xiaotian's voice came from behind: "Have fun when you go out, don't drink."

Bang.

The iron door shut.

If not for the resurgence of ghosts, this might have been his normal life.

Yang Jian thought about it, but felt no strong emotional shift—after all, life has no perfection; regrets are inevitable, from great ones to small ones. Chasing perfection is too exhausting.

"Regrets? Perfection?"

Yang Jian frowned, then walked down the cement stairs. He reached the ground floor of the Guanjiangkou Community building and saw two unexpected figures.

"That's far enough—you go about your business," Yang Tianyou was speaking to Yang Jian's uncle, and when he saw Yang Jian emerge, he gave a slight nod:

"I came to play chess with your dad."

He smiled, and as he passed by, his presence grew even fainter.

"Aren't you on patrol?" Yang Jian asked, puzzled.

"With so many powerful beings, my presence makes no difference—whether I'm here or not," Yang Jian's uncle gazed toward the heavens and laughed:

"In modern terms, I'm slacking off—just came to see my father off one last time."

Yang Jian thought this Shen Jun was surprisingly up-to-date, but then remembered his boss, Hun Tian Di, and realized it made perfect sense.

"My father said, being able to share one lifetime with my mother was eternal happiness."

Yang Jian's uncle held an empty dog leash and said: "He said he was content, but I can tell—he still cares deeply about this reunion."

"By the way, speaking of emotions—"

"Can you tell me anything about the woman dancing with Your Majesty?"

"Tai Bai worries that if he ever meets her again in the Heavenly Court, he won't know how to address her without being disrespectful."

This sudden shift in topic caught Yang Jian off guard—he'd already prepared words of comfort.

"I don't know much," Yang Jian said directly: "She's a demoness. Wait—didn't you watch the movie?"

That day, he'd watched the movie for four days and three nights; if he'd still been a 'normal person' back then, he'd probably have been worn down by the ghost resurrections—suffered terribly.

"Oh, speaking of this thing called 'movie'—the Yang Jian in it had too much power."

Yang Jian's uncle patted Yang Jian's shoulder and said: "It feels like the imprisoned immortal evils in the movie are very similar to the anomalies you've encountered."

Winding and convoluted—these immortals truly have a hundred tricks up their sleeves; indeed, the longer one lives, the sharper one's vision becomes.

Even Yang Jian, with his meticulous mind, felt pressure; he was just about to claim it was coincidence when he suddenly felt a surge of heat within his body.

"Before, the Heavenly Emperor set up scheduled roll calls in the Heavenly Court. Figure the time—it's about due. I taught you so many spells; use your cultivation to cover my shift, and let me see how much you've learned."

Yang Jian chuckled: "Back then, you could take orders but ignore imperial summons—now that's over. I'd rather be struck by lightning than endure that kind of emotional tribulation."

"Xiaotianquan, when you're done peeing, come upstairs."

Amid Yang Jian's bewildered expression, Yang Jian called out toward the bushes in the community garden, then walked toward the stairwell.

"What are you standing there for? Go!"

"Oh."

He hadn't expected his own beginner self would have to take the battlefield.

Yang Jian, who had secretly taught him countless spells, was practically his half-teacher; helping out with the shift was no problem.

"If it comes to fighting, I'll see how things go—but Boss said something about the universe's primordial source," Yang Jian thought.

He felt an endless stream of power surging from within, and instinctively began trying to release it.

Ghost eye. Ghost shadow.

As if a new law had enveloped these "ghosts," allowing his will to dominate and control them, along with a strengthening effect on the rules themselves.

"Heaven's will?"

Yes—it was the power the Heavenly Emperor had granted everyone earlier.

But back then, his cultivation was too low; he felt it was useless and ignored it.

Wait?! I can now freely use the Ghost Domain—and even higher-level realms?

Yang Jian raised an eyebrow, leapt up instantly, and vanished into the sky.

Yang Jian upstairs retracted his gaze.

That Confucian Sage had kept urging me to remember my duty—to seal the Heavenly Emperor. I'd have to be insane to listen to him.

"If that movie was real, then didn't the Heavenly Emperor or the Sect Leader, after using Qu Yanping, preserve another Yang Jian—and that one is now me?"

"Qu Yanping's soul was eventually taken by the inverted demon god Azathoth—but there's a flaw here."

"Why, after Gu Yue Fang Yuan possessed Qu Yanping and he self-destructed, did his soul instantly appear in Lord Haotian's hands? Was Gu Yue Fang Yuan's every move watched by the Heavenly Emperor? Was it even deliberately allowed—or worse—"

Movie?

No one on the Ten Thousand Realms Forum believes it's just a movie.

Yang Jian rubbed his chin, thought for a moment, shrugged, and stepped into the now-illusory room, picking up his vibrating phone and pressing answer.

"Hello, Mom."

"When's Uncle getting married? How would I know?"

Countless exquisite vow-seals surfaced, hanging upside-down across heaven and earth, floating atop the Sea of Vows yet bearing its weight—when the Great Vow Ship, which blurred the boundaries of time and perception, suddenly cracked open.

The blazing light from collapsing stars flashed through the crack and vanished in an instant.

Then, boundless vow-power surged into the Sea of Vows; countless great realms flowed out along with this power—but soon, the Great Vow Ship restored itself as if refreshed.

Some beings whose long-held vows had already been fulfilled suddenly felt something profoundly mysterious departing; some beautiful worlds reflected by great vows were crumbling; some powerful beings stared despairingly at the sky, their eyes filled with terror—as if witnessing the end of all things.

Meanwhile, in worlds rife with slaughter, suffering, and despair where numbness had become routine, or where satisfaction arose, calamitous qi dissipated, or memories, thoughts, obsessions, and pursuits—all beautiful feelings and fleeting moments—erased karmic debt and balanced some invisible fate.

Occasionally, beings skilled in divination or prognostication glimpsed a sliver of hope amid these apocalypses.

Regardless of the scenario, all beings across the realms felt it simultaneously!

The horizon was covered in soft golden auroras, as if a mysterious divine figure, towering above the cosmos, had descended.

"Yang Jian?! It's Yang Jian—!!!"

Traders within all Tiancheng cities—especially the imprisoned beings within the Flame Emperor's Cauldron, who might become medicinal ingredients at any moment—cried out in shock.

Like the first ray of dawn, warm and bright.

"The Star Hunter Shen! The supreme being who has suppressed the forbidden zones for countless eons—the only one still standing with all beings of the myriad realms!"

Someone cried out: "He's still alive! He hasn't been replaced?!"

Someone rejoiced: "Thank heaven! We're saved! We're saved!!"

"Didn't I see him earlier near the Heavenly Court in Tiancheng?" someone murmured, puzzled: "Did I imagine it?"

"Don't speak nonsense!"

Someone immediately rebuked him.

The Destroyer Star God, whose golden molten eyes guided the myriad realms toward entropy's end, halted—his divine body, forged from countless stars and cosmic domains, froze mid-swing, the light pillar aimed at the Great Vow Ship suspended.

The Demon Qi surged wildly; his eyes streamed blood tears; the Yuan Shi Tian Mo, who had just sealed the boundless vow-light from Yao Tian's rupture into the Nine Heavens, also froze—around him, only utter blackness and chaos existed.

The handsome divine man, entwined in chains of cosmic order, his body marked with ominous black divine runes, whose every movement brought forth the collapse of heaven and earth, whose speed of devouring the Sea of Vows and its realms far surpassed all other myriad-world devourers—his sword embryo cleaved the sky as he stared at Yang Jian in confusion.

Even Ye Fan, the Dark Heavenly Emperor who had left Tiancheng, stood motionless in the void, gazing at Yang Jian.

All beings wept, their wails shaking the cosmos; as those in the know spread the word, countless voices began calling out "Yang Jian."

"We shouldn't have been greedy!"

"Huangshan Zhenjun, please save the myriad realms once more!"

"Obey the command you once gave yourself—suppress these demons escaped from the forbidden zones!"

Beings called out, beings begged; they expressed their fervor and reverence. The denizens of Tiancheng wept uncontrollably, overcome with shame.

The Confucian Sage had given everyone a chance—but they were blinded by the fulfillment of their wishes, giving the myriad-world devourers the conditions to break free once more.

Pray to Heaven, let the Dao reverse the Nine Heavens; bow to the Divine, let Dong Huang's stars fall.

The Three Pure Ones, Confused Siming, Lord Haotian—all have been inverted.

Yet when the myriad realms were about to face a cataclysm beyond even time and history to record, this Zhenjun reappeared selflessly.

"Yang Jian."

"Yang Jian!"

Amidst repeated calls, a staircase leading to the heavens descended, and Yang Jian, eyes closed, stepped forward holding the three-pronged, two-edged blade, under the gaze of all beings' tears and hope.

Blood dripped from the golden-patterned heavenly eye.

A blood-red glow of resentment quietly spread; Yang Jian's face gained several more eye-slits, and he opened all his eyes at once, flooding all realms with overflowing red light.

Everything seemed frozen; countless Yang Jians, folded through spacetime, converged into the ultimate "One," and he raised the three-pronged, two-edged blade and smashed it down upon the Great Vow Boat.

Boom—!

Seeing this, Xing, unwilling to yield, raised the column of light again and brought it down as if in a contest of strength.

Boom—!

Like the first strike of a bell, the other several "Supreme" beings continued their actions as if nothing had happened.

Dong, boom-dong, boom.

Without end, under the numb gaze of all beings in Tiancheng, these attacks struck the Great Vow Boat, causing the entire Ocean of Vows to tremble in terror, its cracks growing ever wider.

"Yang Jian."

"Also reversed?"

At someone's words, Tiancheng sank into a long, deathly silence.

All manner of prodigies filled the sky; the massive strikes transmitted through senses beyond mortal comprehension, growing ever faster, until—

At the peak of it all, Su Lin and Yi Leina halted, stepping in time with the rhythm of destruction.

"Do you like fireworks?" Su Lin asked.

"It's fine," Yi Leina replied, puzzled: "Why ask suddenly?"

In the void.

Beneath countless hidden gazes watching.

At the edge where the universe, which drew all realms like a black hole, converged, blocked, and compressed.

Not long ago, a golden raft dragged into it by a great force now appeared, swaying, at the boundary where this universe overlapped with the void.

It began to shatter piece by piece.

From the broken places, it spilled forth.

Then stretched boundlessly into the distance.

Countless world-debris, like dust, burned wildly, exploded, and rained chaotically across the void, scattered without pattern!

Immeasurable light, immeasurable heat, burst forth from the debris.

Once again, it surged into a vast river of light, like a curtain of rain soaking the void, flames blooming like flowers across countless realms.

"Food scraps?"

Some watching eyes tried to trace the origin of these debris, following the direction of the original raft.

A figure stood there, gazing into the void; upon his body, layer upon layer of universes stacked, and beneath the dazzling light, concealed seemed terrifying hues.

From the undulating sea of chaos, the shadow slowly raised in hand clusters of the essence of universes, casting greedy glances around.

Screams of terror and soul-waves erupted suddenly from all corners of the void.

Curtains of fine rain; inside a wooden pavilion on a cliffside, a five-stringed zither played a desolate melody.

Leaning slightly on a bamboo umbrella, a white-robed man in elegant attire stood silently before the door.

"They say the Great Vow Boat can fulfill any wish, mend regrets, and complete all desires," the woman's soft voice murmured:

"Yet why, when it comes to me, are my old friends nowhere to be found?"

"This proves the Great Vow Boat is not omnipotent," Bei Wu held up the bamboo umbrella; raindrops splashed into a puddle reflecting the sky, stirring mud and clouds:

"And there has never been true completion."

The zither's melody drifted, and after dozens of breaths, it ceased; the woman stepped out of the house, letting her silk robes be soaked by the rain.

"Now it is complete," the woman said to him slowly.

As her words ended, the bamboo umbrella fell to the ground.

"All I can see is the present."

As if spilling out words long buried in her heart, the woman picked up the bamboo umbrella and returned to the wooden house; the zither's melody once again floated out, clear and lingering.

Long after, the gloomy rain mist was pierced by a single thread of light—neither pure nor brilliant.