Chapter 281: Zhou Qing Finally Lost His Temper—Let the War Begin!

At this moment, coffins were neatly arranged in the cabin and on the deck, a thick stench hitting them like a physical force.

It was the reek of rotting flesh, blood, and corpse poison—utterly nauseating.

The scene before them weighed heavily on everyone’s hearts.

As one coffin slowly opened, the corpse inside matched exactly the image captured in the recording stone.

Flesh peeled back, organs gone, the death horrific beyond words.

An even more pungent stench erupted, forcing everyone to grimace.

Just then, a dung beetle the size of a fist suddenly flew over and landed directly on the corpse of the Jin Dan cultivator.

Cao Zhengyang’s expression turned icy; he raised his hand to obliterate it—but Zhou Qing stopped him.

He then turned to look at Shen Yunzhou.

Shen Yunzhou, who had just run over, took a deep breath and said, “Yes, the smell is nearly identical.”

“Zhou brother, do you remember when I waited for you in Yanlong City, and someone came to sell a rotting corpse they’d found?”

Zhou Qing showed little surprise; after all, upon hearing from his senior uncle that all slain disciples were reduced to half-body remains emitting this stench, he had already suspected something.

Coupled with the grotesque mummified corpse in the recording stone, and the fact this occurred after returning from the Gobi Mine Vein, all clues pointed toward certain possibilities.

This time, bringing Shen Yunzhou here was merely to confirm it again.

“So you already knew!” Seeing Zhou Qing’s calm reaction, Shen Yunzhou suddenly understood.

Of course—how could Zhou brother not have guessed?

Cao Zhengyang and the others instantly grasped the connection.

After all, they had originally gone to the Gobi Mine Vein because Shen Yunzhou had followed the trail of that half-rotted demonic beast corpse, and had seen Lei Wují in an extremely abnormal state within the cave.

“I recall there were fifteen octagonal altars in that cave, each supposed to hold eight coffins—could Lei Wují have mishandled things, allowing a corpse from the Corpse Yin Sect to escape?”

Cao Zhengyang speculated grimly.

Thinking of the terrifying mummified corpse in the recording stone, everyone felt a chill—perhaps it was truly possible.

“The mummy’s longevity likely exceeds that of a Zhan Ling cultivator, and from the recording stone’s footage, it clearly possesses no consciousness whatsoever!”

Mo Xingjian spoke after a pause.

Zhou Qing nodded: “Master is right. There’s only one explanation: whether or not that mummy is the same one that escaped from the Corpse Yin Sect’s corpse-breeding grounds, someone is definitely controlling it.”

“It’s Jin Leizong!” The peak master of Zixia blurted out.

Only Jin Leizong would specifically target Taiqingmen—other minor sects lack the audacity, and external sects have no grudge against us; no motive.

That leaves only the five major sects of the Eastern Region.

And all those coffin mummies in the cave were taken away by Jin Leizong.

Others nodded in agreement.

“Master, we request permission to investigate Jin Leizong!” The peak master of Baizhan bowed, spiritual energy subtly surging around him.

“I’m going too! They’ve killed so many of our Taiqingmen disciples—this is unbearable!” The peak master of Longji glared, his sheathed sword humming.

The peak master of Yunmeng sneered: “Jin Leizong now has only five Supreme Elders. We have dozens of Soul Transformation experts at peak—why should we fear them?”

Cao Zhengyang raised his hand to quiet them, then after a pause, looked at Zhou Qing: “What do you think?”

Zhou Qing scanned his senior uncles and aunts, his expression grave: “Even if we go, can we accuse them of being linked to the mummy based solely on suspicion? Where’s the evidence?”

“Even if we assume they’re guilty, Lei Wují is currently in seclusion, and all affairs are handled by Lei Lie—if he denies, delays, or evades, what then?”

Yan Xiao stepped forward, tendons bulging in his neck: “What denial? What evidence? Just strike!”

Zhou Qing shook his head; Jin Leizong, like Qingyu Immortal Sect, had declined but still retained deep ancestral foundations.

Some things aren’t sustained merely by how many Soul Transformation peak experts a sect possesses.

Just their publicly known artificial Thunder Pool—if detonated, would you believe half of Taiqingmen would be leveled?

The late ninth-rank array master, Master Xuanqing, once healed himself using the natural Thunder Pool at Linggu Mountain.

Even Zhan Ling, at that late stage and half-pure-blooded Suanni, had claimed it for cultivation.

Even an artificial one retains formidable power.

If someone could harness it, in a final act of mutual destruction, they might take seven others down with them.

“Senior uncle, how many mine veins do we still have?” Zhou Qing suddenly asked.

Cao Zhengyang frowned slightly: “About three hundred. I understand you want to wait and ambush, but the mummy strikes without pattern.”

“Besides, we don’t have three hundred Soul Transformation experts to guard them. And if our forces are too scattered, others might exploit the chaos and frame the mummy.”

Zhou Qing understood his master uncle’s concerns—but if things continued like this, wouldn’t the guards at other mines fall into panic?

After brief thought, Zhou Qing said: “We don’t need to fixate only on the mummy. Change perspective—look at who from the other four sects is missing.”

“Since this mummy can kill Nascent Soul cultivators, for safety’s sake, the one driving or guiding it must be at least Soul Transformation, and at least three, possibly more.”

“After the Five Sects War, each sect has only a handful of Soul Transformation experts left.”

Hearing Zhou Qing’s words, everyone’s eyes lit up. Mo Xingjian looked at Zhou Qing with clear pride.

Cao Zhengyang too smiled as he stroked his beard—Zhou Qing’s words had truly awakened them from their slumber.

No wonder I chose him as the next Sect Master.

Even Yan Xiao glanced subtly at Zhou Qing.

We all have one brain—how the hell did yours grow like this?

“Agreed. I’ll arrange it immediately!” Cao Zhengyang said approvingly, accepting Zhou Qing’s plan.

At that moment, Elder Wu Zhu suddenly sent a message: a Jin Leizong disciple had come to defect, bringing proof of loyalty.

“That’s interesting. Bring him in,” Cao Zhengyang replied.

The disciples were then uniformly buried, and the defector was brought in.

He was a middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his hair, a Nascent Soul peak cultivator.

Upon entering, he immediately knelt: “Disciple Tian Hong pays homage to Master Cao, and to all peak masters.”

“You wish to defect to Taiqingmen?” Cao Zhengyang’s gaze pierced the man, scanning him from head to toe.

Tian Hong bowed three times, voice earnest: “I am but an ordinary man, able to see the tide of fate. After the Five Sects War, Jin Leizong has declined steadily, while our Taiqingmen grows stronger daily.”

“So I’ve long wished to join Taiqingmen, but lacked anything valuable to offer—thus I waited for the right moment.”

“These two recording stones are my token of loyalty. Please, Master, examine them!”

Saying this, Tian Hong withdrew two recording stones from his storage pouch and offered them respectfully with both hands.

Everyone exchanged glances. The peak master of Feixue took the stones first—she specialized in toxins.

Her cultivated realm even involved poison; just moments ago they suspected Jin Leizong, and now someone arrives with proof—must be cautious.

After confirming no hidden toxins, she infused spiritual power to activate them.

Quickly, an image projected: it showed Lei Wují and others at night, carrying coffins out of the cave in the Gobi.

Everyone exchanged glances—no real surprise.

Had it not been for Shen Yunzhou’s unique realm, Jin Leizong’s secret might never have been uncovered.

But since it was exposed, their nighttime evacuation was understandable.

Yet when the second recording stone activated, and the scene appeared, everyone’s faces turned pale.

Again, night. But beneath moonlight, a man stood atop a cliff, contorting his body in an unnatural manner.

His limbs bent like dead branches, joints cracking with sickening “cracks.”

Lightning surged over his body, illuminating his face—it was none other than Lei Wují, the Jin Leizong Sect Master.

But his condition was clearly wrong: his once dignified Dao robe was tattered, large patches of skin exposed, covered in grayish-blue corpse spots.

The stench of decay seemed to burst from the recording stone itself.

His throat emitted inhuman roars, eyeballs bulging from their sockets, whites bloodshot, pupils shrunk to needle points, brimming with bloodthirsty madness.

He appeared in excruciating pain, silver lightning surging around him, weaving into a terrifying electric net.

Saliva dripped continuously from his mouth; his hands frantically clawed at his own body.

Where his claws tore, flesh curled, blood sprayed—but he showed no awareness, only growing more frenzied.

Until suddenly, his aura surged upward, quickly breaking through to Soul Transformation peak.

Then, using all four limbs, he sprinted toward a distant place glowing with light.

That place was Jin Leizong’s Thunder Pool.

Tian Hong quickly explained: “This is footage I recorded at great personal risk. Jin Leizong’s fate is sealed—I have no reason to stay.”

“If Taiqingmen intends to act, now is the perfect moment to seize Jin Leizong. I volunteer as an inside agent… uh~”

Before Tian Hong finished, the peak master of Baizhan slipped behind him and, at Cao Zhengyang’s signal, jabbed his fingertip into the back of Tian Hong’s skull.

He immediately cast the Soul Search technique.

After a long while, as Ling Yuexiao withdrew his finger, Tian Hong rolled his eyes back and collapsed stiffly.

“He didn’t lie. These images were truly recorded by him,” Ling Yuexiao confirmed.

Zhou Qing stared at the footage, a wave of sorrow rising within him.

The Sect Master of one of the Five Great Sects—in just a few months—had descended from the image Shen Yunzhou first recorded to this horrifying state.

Clearly, the relics left by the Corpse Yin Sect concealed great danger.

But—

As Zhou Qing’s gaze shifted to Tian Hong’s twitching corpse, something felt off.

Last time, at the edge of the Canglan Abyss, when he met Sikong Yan, the man precisely described the details of Shen Yunzhou’s escape from the Gobi cave—indicating Cangyan Dao Palace had long known of that place, yet never acted.

Now, the moment they discussed the mummy, Tian Hong arrives with recording stones—every piece of evidence points too neatly to Jin Leizong.

As if someone deliberately stoked the flames, aiming to ignite conflict between Taiqingmen and Jin Leizong.

With doubts in mind, Zhou Qing decided to perform an appraisal directly.

【Image Stone: This is an image stone imprinted by Yu Hengzi, containing footage of Lei Wují leading a group to move the coffins of the Corpse Yin Sect under cover of night.】

Seeing the information reflected from the image stone, Zhou Qing’s pupils contracted sharply.

The first image stone had not been recorded by Tian Hong—it had been copied from someone else!

“Master Bo, who is Yu Hengzi?” Zhou Qing asked urgently.

Cao Zhengyang, who had been frowning in thought, replied: “The Taiji Sect currently has three Supreme Elders: Yu Hengzi, Lingxuzi, and Tianshuzi. Why the sudden interest?”

Zhou Qing did not answer, but raised his hand slightly, rapidly sorting through all the clues in his mind.

Seeing this, Cao Zhengyang immediately signaled everyone to fall silent.

In an instant, everyone present ceased their chatter and turned their gazes toward Zhou Qing.

Shen Yunzhou stood to the side, filled with astonishment.

It was clear that Zhou Qing’s status within Taiqingmen was far from ordinary—and no one harbored even a trace of envy.

The various Peak Masters looked at Zhou Qing with nothing but affection and respect.

What a wonderful family.

In stark contrast to his and his elder sister’s treatment within the Shen family, it stirred a pang of bitterness in his heart.

Lu Yaoyao, standing beside him, gazed at him with pure admiration, her eyes nearly smiling into crescents.

Indeed, no matter the era, Father remained this wise and brilliant.

At this moment, Zhou Qing was steadily converging all the clues, gradually piecing together a map of hidden, turbulent conspiracy.

The Corpse Yin Sect’s corpse-breeding ground in the Gobi had originally been a vein of the Taiji Sect, but had been secretly seized by Jin Leizong for covert research.

Only after Shen Yunzhou uncovered it did Jin Leizong hastily relocate.

And that Tian Hong, who had voluntarily surrendered, appeared to be a discarded pawn of Jin Leizong—but was in truth a deep-planted agent of the Taiji Sect.

Even the key evidence, the image stone, had been pre-recorded and duplicated by Yu Hengzi, then passed through Tian Hong’s hands.

The Taiji Sect has always excelled at obscuring heavenly fate—no wonder soul-searching techniques failed to detect any flaw.

In other words, the Taiji Sect could not have been unaware of the Corpse Yin Sect’s location.

Their inaction resembled a carefully laid bait, waiting solely for Jin Leizong to take the hook.

But Lei Wují, as the leader of a sect, would never so easily fall into such a trap.

The answer was obvious: the cavern must conceal something powerful enough to drive a Soul Transformation cultivator to risk everything.

For cultivators, the temptation to grow stronger is like a persistent parasite—especially the chance to break through to the Cutting Spirit realm after reaching the peak of Soul Transformation, enough to stir greed in any heart, Lei Wují included.

Following this thread, let us flesh out this clue further.

The weakest sect, Taiji, silently laid such a massive trap for Jin Leizong, aiming to dismantle it at its root.

Now, coincidentally, a dried corpse has been relentlessly attacking Taiqingmen’s mine veins, gradually provoking the sect’s fury.

Then, footage of the dried corpse was exposed, and Jin Leizong’s sect master appeared in just such a state—perfectly seamless in connection.

And just then, two image stones arrived precisely at this moment, directing all blame squarely at Jin Leizong.

If someone were to deliberately fan the flames afterward, Taiqingmen and Jin Leizong would surely be drawn into war.

If the conflict escalates—say, through something like a Thunder Pool explosion—leaving both sides embittered enemies and mutually crippled, it would be even better.

The Qingyu Immortal Sect’s Sect Master is near death; the remaining Cangyan Dao Palace holds the heart’s blood capable of manipulating Sikong Yan’s thoughts and decisions.

If Taiqingmen and Jin Leizong fight to the death, Taiji Sect will reap the benefits.

At this thought, Zhou Qing felt a chill run down his spine.

They say the dog that bites doesn’t bark—Taiji Sect’s planning is truly terrifying.

Seemingly low-key yet meticulously strategic, manipulating all factions as if they were chess pieces, remaining safely outside the conflict while using others’ blades to do the killing—truly a master of shadow manipulation.

They used Taiqingmen as a weapon, wounded so many of our disciples, and who knows what else they’ll do next to deepen the rift between Taiqingmen and Jin Leizong.

And earlier, they forged the image of Four Flowers Gathering at the Crown, intending to incite the various prefectures and neighboring imperial dynasties to covet our Heaven Cave’s forbidden zone—truly venomous hearts, worthy of annihilation!

Taiji Sect wants to hide in the shadows, slowly boiling the frog, leisurely reaping the rewards, doesn’t it?

Fine—then let them taste the burn of their own fire!

At this thought, a ruthless gleam flashed in Zhou Qing’s eyes.

Qingyu Immortal Sect now clings to Taiqingmen; Xuan You Immortal is dying—no threat.

Jin Leizong faces internal and external troubles; Lei Wují has undergone strange transformation, barely able to save himself.

Thus, the only real threat remaining is Cangyan Dao Palace.

Sikong Yan must be fully aware of the heart’s blood secret—he received that single drop from Xuanjizi’s storage pouch, delivered by me in my No.1 identity, as a warning.

If Taiqingmen and Taiji Sect go to war, Cangyan Dao Palace will almost certainly stand by, even delight in the outcome.

Therefore, now is the perfect moment!

More importantly, after clarifying his thoughts, Zhou Qing felt a cold dread rise in his heart.

If Taiji Sect wishes to fully ignite the war, the true spark may be the death of one or several Peak Master Uncles.

Only then can they fully enrage the Sect Master.

The secrets of the Heaven Cave’s forbidden zone are known only to the Thirteen Peak Masters, the Supreme Elders, Sikong Yan, and Taiji Sect.

To protect my No.1 identity, this sect must be eradicated root and branch!

“This man cannot be trusted!” Zhou Qing stared at Tian Hong’s corpse, his killing intent icy.

Ling Yuexiao, Peak Master of Baizhan Peak, roared: “I also despise such cowardly opportunists!” and seized Tian Hong’s nape with a palm as large as a fan, lifting him into the air.

Before his words ended, a vast spiritual force formed an invisible hand, forcibly dragging Tian Hong’s Nascent Soul from his spiritual sea.

As Ling Yuexiao’s palm surged with spiritual power, the Nascent Soul burst with a *pop* into ten thousand specks of spiritual light.

Tian Hong’s body collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, his life extinguished instantly—death came without pain.

Zhou Qing blinked in surprise—he hadn’t expected Uncle Ling to act so decisively!

Clearly, everyone has been holding back a storm of rage.

Since all of us broke through to the peak of Soul Transformation, we thought the previous incident would lead to a great war with Qingyu Immortal Sect.

But instead, despite our burning battle lust, we were forced to stand down at the final moment due to greater strategy.

For these past months, our mine veins have been repeatedly attacked, disciples killed and wounded in great numbers, yet we’ve failed to catch even a trace of the enemy—this suppressed fury has long festered throughout the sect.

“Uncles and Masters, I believe I now know who is behind the dried corpse.” Zhou Qing scanned the assembly, his gaze blazing.

Everyone froze, exchanging incredulous glances.

You figured this out in just this short time?

“Who?” Cao Zhengyang’s expression tightened, his eyes sharpening like blades.

Zhou Qing swept his gaze across them all: “Taiji Sect.”

At these words, everyone froze, clearly disbelieving.

Zhou Qing felt no surprise at their expressions—if not for the Daily Appraisal, he himself wouldn’t have believed it.

At this moment, he had no intention of explaining further, only said gravely: “Master Bo, I have a plan requiring the full strength of the sect to execute.”

Cao Zhengyang’s pupils contracted slightly.

The full strength of the sect?

Could it be…

“You intend to strike Taiji Sect?” he ventured.

Zhou Qing nodded, his tone resolute: “Strike swiftly and decisively!”

“Why? Where’s the proof?” Cao Zhengyang frowned, pressing further; the other Peak Masters also snapped back to awareness, their hearts shaken.

This shift was too sudden—no one had any psychological preparation.

Zhou Qing snorted, his aura surging sharply: “As Third Brother said, what proof do we need? In this cultivation world, the strong devour the weak—that is the iron law!”

We did not fight Qingyu Immortal Sect earlier because we had too many concerns.

But now is different: Jin Leizong is overwhelmed, Cangyan Dao Palace stands idle—this is Heaven’s timing.

Taiji Sect’s dried corpse affair has thrown everyone into panic—this is Earth’s advantage.

Our disciples have been repeatedly ambushed, their fury now unified into a single, righteous wrath—this is Human harmony!

Moreover, Taiji Sect has repeatedly employed treachery to deceive Taiqingmen; if we do not retaliate now, our losses will only grow.

He did not want any of his loved ones here to be slowly, invisibly worn away by Taiji Sect’s slow-boiling schemes.

Seeing the resolve blazing in Zhou Qing’s eyes, Cao Zhengyang’s hand paused mid-stroking his beard; Mo Xingjian’s palm inside his sleeve was already damp with sweat; the other Peak Masters exchanged uneasy glances.

Especially Zhou Qing’s words—his malevolence was no ordinary thing.

What could have happened to make the usually composed Zhou Qing lose control like this?

Yet Zhou Qing, as Taiqingmen’s future Sect Master, has always avoided involvement in the sect’s affairs whenever possible.

Now, after so long, he has finally made a decisive proposal—if we bluntly reject it, it would be unwise.

But launching war against a major sect is still far too sudden.

Not only are we unprepared for battle, but Taiji Sect’s depth is far from as weak as it appears.

Though Taiji Sect has long ranked last among the Five Great Sects, its number of Soul Transformation cultivators is less than a third of Taiqingmen’s.

Their Heavenly Fate Art is mysterious and unpredictable, capable of forecasting destiny, altering fate, and even using celestial constellations to set up Dragon-Imprisoning Arrays.

And Taiji Sect’s protective formation is built upon a fallen star, refined over generations of Sect Masters, its patterns linked to the celestial orbits—equivalent to a Three-Color Array.

Each nightfall, the entire sky’s stars become its core, thousands of starlight rays hanging like an inverted Milky Way, both offensive and defensive.

It can draw all incoming force into a stellar vortex and shred it to dust.

More terrifying still is Taiji Sect’s philosophy of “yielding to overcome hardness.”

They knew their combat power could not match the Four Sects, so they built extensive networks, planting covert agents within nearly every major and minor force in the Eastern Region.

Nearly over forty percent of the thousands of sects in the Eastern Region had some connection to them.

Either they owed favors, or were held by incriminating leverage.

From large-scale resource allocation to minor intelligence exchanges, everything was so tightly interwoven that pulling one hair set the whole body in motion.

This was their true foundation for enduring as one of the Five Great Sects.

Of course, the Eastern Region’s sects, after the Battle of Canglan Mountain, had long since been reduced to ruins.

Yet even so, Tianji Men, with its deep reserves intact, remained a slumbering beast.

Yan Xiao Hu’s Adam’s apple rolled as he stared, too stunned to utter a word.

But watching the once timid little fourth disciple of Ling Peak, whom his Master had suddenly brought back one day, now standing among the Peak Masters and radiating a terrifying aura.

In the midst of casual conversation, he could decide the life or death of a sect with a legacy spanning millennia.

This kind of resolve made him feel as if he had crossed into another lifetime.

(End of Chapter)