Chapter 661

"I heard you went to the New York from another horror movie?"

Tony Stark removed his sunglasses, revealing Zhang Zhenren, nearly prostrate on the ground, face ashen.

"Zhang Chuyan, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, three kilos of squid."

Zhang Chuyan, still shaken, pushed himself up and said:

"It was just some bald black guy speeding in a car while spraying me with a shotgun, cursing like a sunbathing bitch."

"It was just like the Lord of the Dead, fed up, personally chasing us for a full day and night, dragging every Reincarnator into it."

"It was just that New York erupted in a plague of the dead, transforming from a horror world into a fantasy world."

Aside from that, everything was normal.

Zhang Chuyan couldn't help questioning himself: why did he even follow Song Shuhang into the instance?

He remembered—he'd boarded just to exploit Song Shuhang's passive benefits, harboring these little calculations, schemes, and hidden agendas.

He'd thought that as long as he avoided traps, didn't provoke trouble, and stayed out of danger, he could hide until the end.

Zhang Chuyan glanced over at Hanyama Kaguya, furious and scowling, having just returned from the Reincarnation Space.

Big mistake—this one's the type who dances on minefields.

"Looking up at the sky!" Song Shuhang sighed to the heavens: "Lost again."

White Zunzhe smiled faintly: "Shuhang, did you enjoy this trial?"

"Bai Qianbei, this wasn't fun—I nearly died." Song Shuhang sighed deeply.

It began with mere accidents and coincidences—traffic incidents, that sort of thing.

Then came the "accidental" encounters with deep-sea monsters and lab-made bio-weapons.

The world's weirdness level gradually escalated to gas explosions, gas leaks, lightning storms, and more.

During this, a bald black man kicked open the door of the room where everyone hid, charging in with a shotgun.

Finally, it seemed he'd reached his limit—when Song Shuhang had fewer than nine resurrection artifacts left, and Hanyama Kaguya had already revived countless times.

The law of harvesting lives materialized, warping the art style into something grotesque.

All Reincarnators in the instance abandoned fighting and banded together to escape—but the world had activated a virus-scanning mechanism, systematically hunting down outsiders.

"How did you all survive?" Bai Qianbei asked curiously. "Are Zhang Heng and the others alright?"

"Kaguya made a deal with the Death God—we left voluntarily, and they spared the remaining Reincarnators." Song Shuhang's expression was complicated.

"Damn it! We never even managed to raise the hate priority!"

Hanyama Kaguya kicked a small stone on the ground, perfectly striking Song Shuhang on the head.

【Failed to penetrate enemy armor】

Before leaving, Kaguya finally understood why Song Shuhang always died first.

"The reason is you saved too many people at the start—unless you're eliminated, the plot can't proceed in order!"

And yet, Song Shuhang had a hundred resurrection artifacts, triggering a full plot meltdown.

"Saving one life builds seven-tier pagodas." Song Shuhang opened his wallet, specially stocked with resurrection artifacts, and burst into tears.

"Woof!"

King Dou Dou could no longer bear to watch.

"Why don't you just stop carrying so many resurrection artifacts? Don't you know your own constitution?"

The setting clearly stated this, yet even now, King Dou Dou couldn't understand why Song Shuhang didn't cut his losses—instead, he doubled down on buying more resurrection artifacts.

Could this guy have awakened some kind of constitution?

He says he doesn't want it, but his heart is honestly enjoying it.

"I feel like your gaze is a bit off," Song Shuhang shook his head and explained:

"Has anyone considered that it's not because I prepared so many resurrection artifacts that I'm unlucky?"

No—it's precisely because you have too many resurrection artifacts.

No one spoke, but Song Shuhang understood the meaning behind their stares.

He felt he had to refute this absurd setting:

"Is it possible that I was always destined to die this many times, and the resurrection artifacts just helped me dodge those fates?"

Since sharing fortune and bearing hardship falls on Song Shuhang, he must prepare even more resurrection artifacts for emergencies.

There's never been an attribute called "Never waste a single resurrection artifact"—behind every one used is a karmic burden it absorbed for you!

"So, Bai Qianbei," Song Shuhang asked hesitantly, "could you lend me some spirit stones to buy some Rebirth Pills?"

Genius.

Li Huowang, passing by, glanced over: "Get discharged."

"I'll take my leave then."

Zhang Chuyan rose with a weary body—he just wanted to go home, crawl into bed in a world without danger, and sleep.

"Chuyan."

Zhang Chuyan turned at the voice and found Meng Qi standing nearby.

Morning light broke through; the silhouette of Longhu Mountain gradually sharpened in the rosy dawn.

Rolling peaks, ancient trees towering, canopies of green shade, like a colossal azure dragon soaring through mist.

Incense curled within the Three Pure Ones Hall, devout worshippers praying; smoke drifted slowly through the air. Outside, the Grand Celestial Master—tall, upright, with long beard and eyebrows, narrow eyes—was taking photos with tourists.

He finished giving a peace sign, then turned and walked toward the other direction.

Lu Jin, hands in his pockets, teased: "Old man, you seem in much better spirits than before."

"When the younger generation excels, my mood naturally improves—but," Zhang Zhiwei pinched his beard and frowned, "seeing you instantly ruins it."

"Hmph." Lu Jin blew out his beard irritably:

"You know why I came to see you."

"I've heard rumors lately that some anomalies caused trouble?" Zhang Zhiwei clicked his tongue.

"But young people are bound to be impulsive; with the internet so popular now, a momentary surge of emotion is understandable."

"Since the Chen Duo incident, rumors of living Buddhas descending have persisted in society," Lu Jin said, his expression grave.

"The toilet in the island nation was blown up, Behemoth suffered an unknown attack, someone flew on a sword competing with fighter jets in speed, and a mysterious figure showed up at the Feng family's spirit-binding ritual to force-buy and force-sell."

"The company's surveillance also captured what looked like Wu Gen Sheng's silhouette."

"During this turbulent season, don't go adding more chaos."

Zhang Zhiwei listened in silence, nodding occasionally, appearing thoroughly cooperative.

He knew some of these things were done by Zhang Chu'an, but many matters didn't require intervention now.

Just as Zhang Chu'an had never asked him about certain things either.

That child understands boundaries.

"I always feel this world is about to fall into chaos," Lu Jin said, deeply troubled.

"It won't." Zhang Zhiwei said: "You'd be better off going home to spend more time with your granddaughter. You're an old man—stop wandering around so much."

Lu Jin fell silent for a moment, then asked: "Old man, do you really believe immortals exist in this world?"

Zhang Zhiwei smiled: "There are none."

"Master, look who I've brought you!"

Zhang Chu'an walked in cheerfully, followed by a young man in white robes, sharp-eyed and strikingly handsome.

Ssssshhhh—!

Zhang Zhiwei's throat suddenly emitted a dry, rasping sound; his facial expressions flickered through several changes, yet he maintained overall composure.

Only his inward-gazing eyes glimmered like Lei Guang, leaving Lu Jin beside him utterly baffled.

"Master Lu is here too?" Zhang Chu'an quickly bowed respectfully.

Before Lu Jin could speak, Zhang Zhiwei pulled him back, then stepped forward himself—yet found himself at a loss for words.

"Master Tian Shi is Chu'an's elder, so I thought it best to deliver this wedding invitation in person," Meng Qi said, casually steering the conversation.

Zhang Zhiwei took the red wedding invitation: "Marriage?"

"There's still some time left; I've come also to discuss another matter," Meng Qi transmitted a divine thought to him.

He did not stay long; after exchanging a few pleasantries, he glanced at the statues in the Three Pure Ones Hall, then gave a slight nod and took his leave.

After a moment of quiet thought, Zhang Zhiwei tucked the wedding invitation into his sleeve and asked: "Do you understand internet promotion?"

Lu Jin: "?"

"No, let me think about how to do it…" Zhang Zhiwei shook his head.

Lu Jin stared, frowning, his gaze sweeping over the back of the young man who had come with Zhang Chu'an—and left with him.

He had never seen the old Master Tian Shi wear such an expression.

"Who is that?"

Zhang Zhiwei walked toward the inner hall; Lu Jin hurried after him, pressing:

"Your Linglong still has no partner, right? I think Chu'an is a fine boy—you…"

"Don't you dare change the subject!!!"

Lu Jin knew this old man's temper, but as he slipped through gaps among the mountain pilgrims, a sudden intuition struck him—he unconsciously glanced at the statues of the Three Pure Ones.

From the five-bearded, solemn, majestic Yuan Shi Tianzun statue, to the Ling Bao Tianzun and Dao De Tianzun statues, all seemed different from his memory.

All had streaks of gray at the temples, eyes deep and bottomless, profound as if capable of holding all things.

Effortlessly transcendent—like the man who just came with Zhang Chu'an…

Lu Jin's eyes widened; he frantically shook his head, as if trying to fling out the thought.

Outside the hall

Meng Qi watched Zhang Chu'an vanish into the crowd, then turned back to the statues and murmured: "Legends…"

To open the door of legend, one must understand 'I am I' and sense the 'Other-Selves' scattered across countless worlds.

The normal process is to project and reflect the real world, generating myriad worlds, gaining power from countless universes, remaining un-sunken in the sea of suffering, unkillable.

But what if one's own arrangement lies within the layered multiverses of the void dimension?

"Marriage? The Great Zhou?"

Su Lin sat in his wheelchair, everyone holding their wedding invitations, none expecting Meng Qi's invitation to arrive so suddenly.

"Look at them—then look at you lot!"

Su Lin pointed at anonymous figures Lu Mou, Xiao Mou, Ke Mou, and Wei Mou with exasperation.

Xiao Yan's lip twitched: "My kid can already fetch soy sauce."

"Feels like old Meng is up to something…" Ye Fan pondered a moment, then said: "Why choose Gao Lan's imperial palace for the wedding?"

"If you don't make it known to everyone, what's the difference from wearing brocade in the dark? But still—it doesn't add up," Su Lin shook his head, puzzled:

"What about Jiang Zhiwei and Ruan Yushu?"

Is that the point?

"He's serious?" Lu Mingfei stared blankly at the words: "Cordially inviting Lu Mingfei and his entire family."

It's like a brother keeps telling you: "After this battle, I'll go home and get married."

Then he actually does it.

"At this current timeline, the legendary great ones have not yet returned; Meng Qi's current strength qualifies him as the foremost in this age."

Zhong Li thought for a moment, then rose: "I must return to Liyue to prepare some modest gifts."

Fuck, wedding gift money

Su Lin sucked in a sharp breath.

During those dorm years, he had made plenty of bold promises to get Meng Zhending to go on blind dates.

Phrases like "If you get married, I'll give you a huge gift" were everywhere.

"Eight hundred okay?" Su Lin asked.

Leaning against the doorframe, Meng Qi, who had returned at some point, squinted, arms crossed: "Do whatever you want—we're brothers, why say all that?"

A thousand, no more.

Su Lin scratched his head, grimacing.

He instinctively wondered whether he should hedge his wedding gift risk—Meng Zhending had once thought he was gay and pushed him to find a girlfriend.

He glanced at some shitty witch and noticed her gaze had shifted from the wedding invitation to him.

In the instant their eyes met, they both looked away simultaneously, abandoning some unspoken thought.

But at that moment, Su Lin saw Xing.

"Hey, I've got a great idea!" said a male explorer in a gray-haired, golden-eyed jacket avatar inside Su Lin's mind.

He pulled out a bag of golden trash bags.

"Start with the Azure Void Sword," Meng Qi smiled.

"Someday I'll turn the Tyrant's Absolute Blade into a sword girl and see if you still stare at my sword," Su Lin pulled off his gray wig.

Xing walked over with the wedding invitation: "Qiong, have you decided yet?"

Su Lin: "What?"

"With us," Xing deliberately paused.

"?"

"Star Vault Railway x Tsukihime Universe crossover."

"Wait for the next update."

"Yay!"

Ever since Su Lin brought the Tsukihime Universe into Marvel, this guy had been obsessed with the crossover.

"What a shame—I was just about to give you a free wedding gift," Meng Qi waved his hand. "You had your chance and blew it~~~"

Tsk.

Su Lin gripped the wheelchair, planning to head to the system shop for something worth around ten million.

After all, the night is long, and only the sword keeps him company.

No one knows how many times the legendary swordsman and qin master Meng Daixia will marry in the future.

"I've discussed it with Mr. Yao and Doctor Yi," Teacher Yan Sen said, smiling as he hurried over:

"Perhaps the multiverse I created didn't arise naturally—this latent factor may have affected your absorption."

"So this time, I've switched to pure Creation Law."

"Come on, try it."

Su Lin stopped and locked eyes with Teacher Yan Sen, sensing the other's eager anticipation.

He suddenly understood something about Teacher Yan Sen.

He was treating him like a lab subject.

"What's wrong?"

"No."

Fine, I'll try it.

This time, Su Lin truly snatched the pure Law of Dao and Reason from Teacher Yan Sen's hands—instantly

It cracked.

"Better find a proper doctor," Su Lin used his Heavenly Dao to erase the clashing Laws.

At that moment, someone else appeared behind him, pushing the wheelchair.

"I'll take it for now~" Hanyue of Penglai turned to Yi Leina, where a teleportation gate, opened by a Cross-World Rune, now appeared ahead.

"Just remember to return it."

Yi Leina smiled faintly, giving the other a meaningful glance.

Hanyue found her smile odd; after thinking for a moment, she shoved the wheelchair hard.

i→OttO