Chapter 278: Nannan, this is Brother Zhou Qing—he

Facing Zhou Qing’s sudden question, Shen Yunzhou immediately perked up.

After glancing around and confirming no one was eavesdropping, he lowered his voice, a sly smile appearing on his face.

“You’d never guess in a million years—it’s her Nascent Soul enhancement.”

“Nascent Soul enhancement?” Zhou Qing blinked, a flicker of surprise in his pupils.

He had previously speculated, but leaned toward the Soul Transformation realm’s aura—not expecting it to relate to the Nascent Soul at all.

Shen Yunzhou deliberately stalled, leaning close with a mysterious tone: “The heavenly qi my sister cultivated is Qian Yin, ranked third among heavenly qi.”

“Her awakened Qian Yin Nascent Soul places immense value on fate. Anyone she deems fated is perfectly attuned to her spiritual field.”

“Only those who bring her inner peace and tangible benefits can earn her notice.”

Zhou Qing was taken aback upon hearing this.

If he remembered correctly, there were only ten Heavenly-grade Nascent Souls, and Qian Yin ranked third—barely behind San Hua Ju Ding and Si Xiang Gui Xu.

No wonder she reached the Zhan Ling realm so young—her talent was truly extraordinary!

Yet, his own Si Hua Ju Ding technically fell outside the Heavenly-grade classification—just how far would he go?

“By the way, how old is your sister?” Zhou Qing finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity and asked.

Shen Yunzhou instantly eyed him like a thief, his tone brimming with suspicion: “What? Now that she’s deemed you fated, you’re getting ideas?”

“No, don’t misunderstand—I’m just curious. She looks so young, yet she’s already at the Zhan Ling realm,” Zhou Qing hastily waved his hands, explaining.

Shen Yunzhou relaxed slightly but still shook his head: “A girl’s age is a sacred secret—I can’t tell you, or my sister will kill me.”

“Besides, don’t take it too seriously. Since she cultivated heavenly qi and began her cultivation path, countless people have been deemed fated by her.”

“Yet, very few have sustained that fate and continued to bring her benefits.”

Zhou Qing fell into thought.

This “gathered for benefit, scattered when benefit ends” dynamic sounded suspiciously like “seduce and abandon.”

Does being a confidant today mean becoming a stranger tomorrow if things go slightly wrong?

Seeing Zhou Qing frown, Shen Yunzhou chuckled and bumped his shoulder: “Worried? Treat it as fleeting chance—gain it, you’re lucky; lose it, it’s fate.”

“Even I, her own brother, haven’t been deemed fated—why are you stressing over it?”

Zhou Qing smiled: “Nothing. I just find her Heavenly-grade Nascent Soul fascinating.”

“Naturally!” Shen Yunzhou’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Heavenly, Earthly, Xuan, Huang-grade Nascent Souls each have their own wonders.”

“By the way, Zhou brother, what heavenly qi did you cultivate? What Nascent Soul did you awaken?”

Soon, Shen Yunzhou turned curiously to Zhou Qing.

Zhou Qing’s face flushed awkwardly, then he turned serious: “I—I have nothing worth mentioning. What about you?”

“Pfft, fine, if you won’t tell, I won’t tell you either,” Shen Yunzhou said, seeing Zhou Qing’s reluctance and dropping the subject.

Still, he could guess: Zhou Qing must have achieved Heavenly-grade Foundation Establishment, or he wouldn’t be at mid-Soul Transformation so young—though he didn’t know which grade his Nascent Soul was.

“Huh, what’s that?” At that moment, Shen Yunzhou turned his head and saw two black-clad figures suddenly climbing up from the abyss below.

Wait—they’d scanned earlier and detected no living energy. Where did these two come from?

When Zhou Qing saw them, his pupils instantly contracted.

“Black-clad puppets!”

After emerging from the abyss, the two black-clad puppets immediately scanned their surroundings.

Shen Yunzhou was about to speak, but Zhou Qing yanked him aside into hiding.

Fortunately, the puppets merely stared blankly around, then swiftly departed.

“You recognize them?” Shen Yunzhou asked, pulled aside.

Watching their furtive backs, Zhou Qing signaled silence, hesitated briefly, then followed them.

Soon, the two black-clad puppets headed straight toward a deeper abyss nearby.

Now, more and more black-clad puppets climbed out from below—dense, countless, over a hundred thousand—scenes of staggering grandeur.

Seeing this, Shen Yunzhou finally understood, his face filled with shock: “These aren’t people—they’re puppets?”

Zhou Qing frowned heavily and nodded.

He hadn’t seen these black-clad puppets in ages—why were they here in Canglan Mountain?

“These puppets are fascinating—they seem forged directly from living humans. So agile, yet no trace of living energy!”

Shen Yunzhou muttered in awe.

Worse still—there were so many.

Though most were Nascent Soul and Jin Dan, even Foundation Establishment, if united, even a large force of Soul Transformation cultivators couldn’t withstand them.

After all, these puppets obeyed orders unconditionally, felt no pain, feared no death.

Zhou Qing remained silent, eyes locked on the gathering puppet army.

Their gazes all seemed fixed on a single direction.

“Go.” Zhou Qing suddenly spoke, his figure flashing forward.

Shen Yunzhou didn’t dare delay—he hurried after him.

Soon, they saw two figures at the northeastern edge—one tall, one small.

“Sikong Yan”—Zhou Qing showed little surprise at the figure facing away.

But—

When his gaze fell on the little girl in the floral dress beside Sikong Yan, his pupils shrank violently, disbelief flooding his eyes.

Because that girl was Nannan—the child whose image had been captured on the jade stone sent by Sikong Yan to Gao Xuan’s senior, months ago.

Zhou Qing rubbed his eyes quickly, ensuring he wasn’t hallucinating.

What was going on?

Was Nannan still alive?

Was the image on the jade stone not from the past—but from now?

Impossible. Absolutely impossible!

According to Gao Xuan’s senior, Nannan had died long ago. Even if she were alive, she shouldn’t still look exactly as she did then.

Suddenly, Shen Yunzhou gently nudged Zhou Qing and swallowed hard, visibly tense.

Zhou Qing snapped back to reality, looked around—and realized hundreds of thousands of black-clad puppets had silently surrounded them, their eyes vacant.

Zhou Qing’s face darkened instantly.

“Friend, you’ve watched long enough—why not come out and converse?” Sikong Yan slowly turned, smiling.

Shen Yunzhou sighed, looking at Zhou Qing: Should’ve known better than to get involved.

“Who is he? What realm? Can we take him down?” Shen Yunzhou whispered.

Zhou Qing stared at the annotation 【Fish】 above Sikong Yan’s head, his brow furrowed deeper.

“Lord of Cangyan Dao Palace, one of the Five Great Sects—Soul Transformation peak!” Zhou Qing explained.

Shen Yunzhou nodded in understanding: “Troublesome. Mainly because there are too many puppets here—our flying vessel won’t fit. If needed, you’ll have to distract them.”

Zhou Qing nodded slightly, then fixed his gaze solemnly on Sikong Yan.

The last time they met in person was during the Linggu Skull Realm’s opening—he’d secretly bound him then.

Just as Zhou Qing stepped forward, Sikong Yan spoke again.

“Friend, few come here now. Since you came alone, you must have a story—why not step out and talk?”

Hearing this, Shen Yunzhou was baffled.

Alone?

Are you blind? These puppets are your eyes—can’t you tell it’s two people?

Zhou Qing’s raised foot instantly retracted, his expression odd.

He cleared his throat: “He’s calling you. Go out.”

Shen Yunzhou: “...”

So I’m not a person?

“Big brother, I’m local!” Zhou Qing said earnestly.

Shen Yunzhou snorted.

Don’t think I’m new here—I know your record. During the Five Sects War, you slew more than one of their prodigies.

Local or not—you’re still an enemy.

“Don’t believe me? Watch me leave!” Zhou Qing turned and slipped through gaps between the black-clad puppets.

Throughout, the puppets made no move to stop him—as if they couldn’t see him at all.

Shen Yunzhou began doubting his eyes.

What the hell?

Favoritism?

No—did Zhou Qing find a flaw in these puppets?

Watching Zhou Qing slip past the puppets and sprint toward the perimeter, Shen Yunzhou rubbed his hands and stepped back, ready to slip out through a gap.

The next instant, every black-clad puppet stepped forward in unison, their hollow gazes locking onto him like icy arrows.

Shen Yunzhou: “...”

“Uncle, who’s that big brother?” Nannan asked, watching the young man emerge surrounded by puppets.

Sikong Yan’s lips curled into a faint smile, his gaze settling on Shen Yunzhou.

He spoke calmly: “I’ve never seen them, but this big brother seems a bit tense—probably frightened. Nannan, tell them to withdraw.”

Nannan nodded obediently, her tiny pink hand flicking lightly.

In an instant, all the black-robed puppets bowed their heads as if pulled by invisible threads.

Then, like clusters of shadows, they swiftly sank into the ground and vanished without a trace.

Far away, Zhou Qing frowned tightly, quickly capturing the scene with an image stone.

He had witnessed firsthand the modification process of these black-robed puppets; even Shi Zhen had nearly fallen victim to them.

Third Senior Brother once speculated that the cultivation arrays within these puppets each had subtle differences.

Cangyan Dao Palace must have a mother body capable of unilateral control; to eliminate them, you must either crush them with overwhelming force or destroy the mother body outright.

Now it seemed Third Senior Brother’s guess was correct.

Yet Zhou Qing could not possibly link that adorable little girl, barely five or six years old, to the mother body controlling the puppets.

But what had just happened forced him to accept the reality before him.

Shen Yunzhou also gaped in astonishment; if he wanted to flee now, the girl seemingly couldn’t stop him.

Yet after a brief hesitation, he still chose to step forward.

Nannan walked forward cautiously, her big watery eyes fixed on him, her voice soft: “Big brother, don’t be afraid. Uncle is very kind—he won’t hurt you.”

Shen Yunzhou looked at the adorable, innocent little girl and forced a faint smile.

He steadied himself, then turned to Sikong Yan and bowed slightly: “Greetings, fellow cultivator.”

Sikong Yan nodded slightly, his gaze sharp as a hawk’s, and spoke slowly: “I heard someone encountered Jin Leizong’s secret base in the Gobi of Tianji Sect and fled in panic—surely that was you?”

Shen Yunzhou’s eyes flickered with surprise, then he chuckled: “Heh, you’re an interesting one—how’d you get such sharp intel?”

Though he spoke lightly, he didn’t advance further, instead maintaining a cautious distance from Sikong Yan.

Sikong Yan smiled calmly, sizing him up: “You’re already at the late stage of Soul Transformation—yet you’re not from Lingyun Prefecture, are you?”

Shen Yunzhou crossed his arms, lifted his chin, and his eyes held a touch of defiance: “You’ve got good eyes. But I’m more curious—are you a puppeteer?”

Sikong Yan shook his head lightly, his tone indifferent: “Merely dabbling. May I ask your name, and why you’re here?”

“Is this your backyard? Can’t I just stroll around?” Shen Yunzhou retorted with a raised eyebrow.

Sikong Yan didn’t anger; instead, he threw back his head and laughed loudly: “Of course you can—feel free. But your temperament reminds me of an old acquaintance—he seems to be here too.”

As he spoke, his gaze flickered faintly toward the distant forest.

Zhou Qing had been hiding in the shadows, observing—suddenly, both men turned to look directly at him. His face paled; he spun around in panic.

Not far behind him, a white-robed figure stood silently, robes fluttering, his silhouette radiating cold aloofness.

Zhou Qing looked at Lin Jin, then at Sikong Yan gazing this way—and in that moment, his doubts were fully resolved.

“You two know each other!” Zhou Qing said coldly.

Last time, outside Taiqingmen’s gate, Lin Jin insisted on buying large quantities of [Bad Luck Talisman] from him—and Zhou Qing refused.

When Zhou Qing merely asked why he intended to use the [Bad Luck Talisman] on the Grand Eunuch Gao Xianzhong, Lin Jin said nothing and left.

Now, he appeared here again—coincidentally.

Add to that: in the Divine Ruins Tiangong, No. 7 Sikong Yan claimed he erased the Fifth Imperial Prince—everything proved their connection ran deep.

This also explained why, back at Bai Yu Taixu Courtyard, Lin Jin had first targeted Third Senior Brother.

Because Third Senior Brother had trespassed on Cangyan Dao Palace’s ancestral graves three times in a row; the last time, he slipped into the sect’s grounds and left messages—and urinated—on the plaza with Lei Luo.

“Zhou young friend, long time no see—come chat a while?” Sikong Yan’s voice, laced with spiritual energy, carried across the distance.

Zhou Qing took a deep breath.

He possessed the [Imperial Radiance Scripture], [Wound-Healing], and the Inscription-level Divine Art [Hundred Tribulations Blood Veil]—enough to handle a typical Soul Transformation peak.

Besides, Shen Yunzhou was right here—once he unleashed the Stench Realm, it’d nauseate you to death.

“Let’s go together, Lin Jin!” Zhou Qing glanced at Lin Jin, then walked forward.

At the abyss’s edge, watching Zhou Qing walk through the air, Shen Yunzhou smiled.

I really thought you’d abandoned me?

“Hey, isn’t this the guy who always puts on airs? He’s here too!”

Soon, Shen Yunzhou saw a white-robed figure flying backward and landing atop the treetops.

He never showed his face.

“Acting so mysterious?” Shen Yunzhou sneered, his eyes brimming with disdain.

After landing, Zhou Qing first bowed to Sikong Yan.

After all, regardless of anything, Sikong Yan was of the same generation as the Sect Master’s Elder Brother—and Zhou Qing was merely a junior upstart.

After the bow, his gaze involuntarily fell on the girl in the floral dress hiding behind Sikong Yan; his brows knitted tightly, his eyes filled with complexity.

“Good buddy!” Shen Yunzhou grinned and stepped over, standing casually beside him—but his eyes remained sharply fixed on the white-robed figure, ready for any surprise attack.

Sikong Yan studied Zhou Qing from head to toe, clicking his tongue.

“Last time we met was at Linggu Mountain, I heard you returned from Bai Yu Taixu Courtyard and entered Soul Transformation.”

“Now, only a few years later, you’ve reached Soul Transformation mid-stage—this progress is truly astonishing!”

Zhou Qing bowed again, his tone humble: “Your Grace flatters me—I merely stumbled upon an opportunity and barely broke through.”

Sikong Yan laughed. “Barely? Let me count: since the Five Sects War, you ‘barely’ killed five of our prodigies and dozens of Nascent Souls; you ‘barely’ exposed and destroyed the puppet-making workshops.”

“You ‘barely’ topped the Most Wanted List; you ‘barely’ tore open the defenses at Canglan Mountain to rescue the Taiqingmen disciples; in just a few years, you ‘barely’ comprehended a Realm, advanced to Soul Transformation, and even became a formation master.”

“That word ‘barely’ is heavy indeed,” Sikong Yan said, counting each point with a flick of his finger.

Zhou Qing said nothing; beside him, Shen Yunzhou stared at Zhou Qing in astonishment.

I clearly didn’t dig deep enough into you!

“Nannan, this is Brother Zhou Qing—he’s a close friend of your father’s.”

Seeing Zhou Qing silent, Sikong Yan suddenly crouched and gently pushed the timid little girl forward.

Zhou Qing’s pupils contracted sharply.

Nannan?

Could she really be Gao Xuan’s daughter?

Before he could react, the girl rushed forward with her short legs, her bright eyes filled with hope: “Brother Zhou Qing, do you really know my dad?”

Zhou Qing glanced at Nannan, then at Sikong Yan—wondering what game he was playing.

But for now, he could only pretend ignorance, frowning: “Her father is—”

“You don’t know? I remember sending a recording stone to Taiqingmen months ago—you never replied.”

Sikong Yan sighed with regret, then crouched and tugged Nannan’s sleeve: “Nannan, it seems your father has forgotten you.”

Nannan’s eyes instantly filled with tears; fat droplets tumbled down her cheeks.

“No! Dad wouldn’t abandon Nannan—” She clutched Sikong Yan’s sleeve and cried out, her voice trembling with fear and despair.

Watching this, Zhou Qing’s heart tightened.

Shen Yunzhou looked confused, wanting to speak but unsure what to say.

Sikong Yan gently wiped the girl’s tears, yet a faint, almost imperceptible smile curled his lips: “So you see, it’s not that I won’t take you to find your father—it’s that your father has already forgotten you.”

“How about this? From now on, I’ll be your father. Good girl—call me ‘Dad’!”

Zhou Qing’s face darkened instantly; a chilling aura surged around him. He stepped forward, his voice icy:

Letting Nannan recognize a villain as her father? Dream on!

“Senior Sikong, Senior Gao has been in seclusion for a long time—the recording stone you sent never reached him.”

Sikong Yan slowly turned his head, a mocking smile on his lips: “Senior Gao? When did I say her father’s surname is Gao? Nannan, what’s your father’s surname?”

“My father’s surname is Dong, and so is mine. My mother’s surname is Lan,” Nannan sniffled, tear-streaked cheeks still flushed pink.

“Oh, so his surname is Dong? Why did you mistake her for Senior Gao’s daughter, Zhou young friend?” Sikong Yan asked, feigning curiosity.

Zhou Qing’s face turned grim; he spoke bluntly: “Senior, if you have something to say, just say it!”

Sikong Yan pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with gold thread and gently wiped Nannan’s tears: “It seems some pawns, after wandering too long, have forgotten who they are. Tell me—what else did he reveal?”

Zhou Qing’s fists clenched, knuckles cracking.

No wonder Senior Gao Xuan said Cangyan Dao Palace hadn’t assigned him any missions in a long time—they’d clearly sensed something.

But before Zhou Qing could speak, Nannan, who had been crying, suddenly turned deathly pale; her body went limp and collapsed.

Zhou Qing’s face changed: “What did you do to her?”

Sikong Yan gently laid Nannan on the ground; four black-robed puppets suddenly emerged from beneath the earth.

They carefully lifted her and sank back into the ground, vanishing.

Sikong Yan brushed off his sleeves and stood, his tone casual: “I did nothing—she’s just ill. I haven’t fully cured her yet.”

Zhou Qing’s chest heaved, but he was powerless to act.

Whether in reality or in the Divine Ruins Tiangong, he had never been able to see through him.

Shen Yunzhou now understood—he stepped forward sharply, spiritual energy surging around him, his blue robes lifted by invisible waves.

He glared at Sikong Yan, eyes blazing with fury: “Fellow cultivator, you’ve cultivated for countless years—you know well that in our world, disputes never target family.”

“Using a child like this to threaten others—what kind of gentleman are you?”

Sikong Yan burst into loud, mocking laughter.

He casually flicked his sleeve: “I’m no gentleman. In mortal tales, I’d be the villain—the dark sect.”

“Given your chivalrous air, you know: villains never follow rules. To me, the more ruthless the method, the more effective it is—as long as it achieves the goal.”

“You—” Shen Yunzhou turned crimson with rage.

Zhou Qing suppressed his fury and spoke coldly: “Senior, just say it—what do you want? Or what must I do to take Nannan away?”

(End of chapter)