Chapter 299: Should I Follow My Mother? (6k)

Hearing Zhou Qing’s words, Lu Yaoyao froze in shock, her eyes widening in disbelief.

From the moment I took the mirror frame to when you emerged, barely a cup of tea had passed—yet you slew a legendary Zhan Ling cultivator?

How did you manage it?

Normally, Zhan Ling cultivators rarely clash with one another.

Because once they fight, it’s truly a battle that shatters heaven and earth—some last for years.

Even if Yan Sen was severely wounded, he was still a Zhan Ling cultivator—you…

【Heart Mirror Point +9】

Soon, the 【Good Nose】 that had just appeared atop Lu Yaoyao’s head reverted back to 【Good Nihai】.

No wonder I was born of such a father—crossing realms in battle is truly extraordinary.

Zhou Qing said nothing more, sinking entirely into his cultivation.

As the Yin-Yang Scripture’s technique activated, the Blood Phoenix Catastrophe Crystal immediately split into strands of dark red light that seeped into his meridians.

His pupils contracted sharply, his face filled with awe.

This energy was dozens of times purer than supreme-grade spirit stones; the moment it entered his body, it ignited like a prairie fire, surging along the Eight Extraordinary Meridians.

Wherever it passed, decades-old impurities were incinerated to ash.

It was an indescribable smoothness—as if he weren’t absorbing spiritual energy, but merging with the primordial force of heaven and earth.

Vast torrents of essence flooded into his dantian, spiritual sense, and meridians…

Zhou Qing could even hear faint “crackling” sounds within his body—the long-stagnant spiritual power barriers were slowly fracturing.

Moreover, his spiritual sense felt as clear as a mirror; once-obscure insights now became vividly tangible.

It bore a faint resemblance to the ethereal sensation of absorbing the Dao-Enlightenment Ancient Tea Tree.

“No wonder this is a Mingwen-level technique rivaling Dao Trace level—I can’t imagine how the Blood Phoenix clan even created it?”

Zhou Qing marveled, accelerating his absorption further.

Thus, as the fifth day arrived, the last nearly transparent Blood Phoenix Catastrophe Crystal lay in his hand.

Lu Yaoyao had long since recovered and was now vigilantly scanning the surroundings.

As for the strange crystal in her father’s hand, she’d seen it before as a child.

More precisely, after every demon queen he killed, several such crystals would appear on him, used for healing and absorption.

So she was long accustomed to it.

But she’d never cultivated herself—she’d only been hardened by her father’s physical training.

Now, seeing it again, she realized it was clearly extraordinary—but how had it come to be?

As she pondered, Zhou Qing, who had been meditating, suddenly trembled as he absorbed the final wisp of blood energy.

The spiritual power barrier long compressed in his dantian shattered with a thunderous crash, releasing a far more immense aura.

“Breakthrough?” Lu Yaoyao clearly felt this pressure was several times stronger than usual.

Zhou Qing opened his eyes, filled with delight.

He slowly rose, feeling the roaring spiritual power surging through his body, a smile forming on his lips.

From this day forward, Zhou Qing was the undisputed number one beneath the Zhan Ling realm!

“Time’s up—let’s go!” Zhou Qing didn’t pause to celebrate; he swiftly led Lu Yaoyao out.

After retrieving the mirror frame, they headed straight for the platform he had marked.

“I estimate Yan Sen’s eighth uncle is at the late Zhan Ling realm—and as a Level Four Array Master, defeating him is nearly impossible!”

Zhou Qing gazed at the distant platform, his face clouded with concern.

And now, they didn’t even know where he’d gone.

If only he’d ventured deeper—there, even Old Peng King and Shen Hanyi dared not linger.

An Emperor-level being could erase him forever in an instant!

“Stay here, don’t move—I’ll check!” Zhou Qing instructed Lu Yaoyao, then crept forward cautiously.

Once back inside the ruins, he found the four-color array still active—but no trace of Yan Weiyi’s presence or aura remained.

Seeing this, Zhou Qing’s face brightened; he quickly rummaged through Yan Sen’s storage bag and retrieved the token.

After swiftly refining it, with a wave of his hand, the array dissolved into twelve array flags and a plate packed with supreme-grade spirit stones.

Zhou Qing eagerly stowed them away, then returned to Lu Yaoyao’s side.

“I suspect Yan Sen’s eighth uncle doesn’t know this place will expel all outsiders after five days.”

“So logically, he’s probably still searching everywhere,” Zhou Qing declared confidently.

Lu Yaoyao nodded. “Yes—I hope he gets as unlucky as Yan Sen did!”

Zhou Qing sighed.

Too bad he only had one [Curse Charm].

“So what do we do now?” Lu Yaoyao asked.

Zhou Qing thought, scanning the surroundings.

The floating platforms surrounding the Kunpeng Palace were unusually numerous, and this time their landing spot differed entirely from last time.

Clearly, the placement was random.

Once we’re expelled, with his Zhan Ling abilities, we’d have no chance of escape.

Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day; teach him to fish, and you feed him for life!

If he wants to re-enter, he might soul-search me—or threaten Lu Yaoyao to force me to hand over the Emperor’s Radiance Scripture.

Then kill us both and claim this secret realm alone.

So in a few hours, it’ll be either you die or I die.

“Don’t rush—I’ll look!” Zhou Qing pulled out Yan Sen’s storage bag and began searching again.

There were many items inside, especially over a hundred supreme-grade spirit stones—but not a single elemental one.

How did he even survive?

“Three- and four-color array scrolls—all the transmissions left by Elder Qingxuan!”

“Various Shen family secrets? Too distant for me—but I can keep them as gossip for leisure.”

“These technique scrolls? Forget it—including this four-color array. I can’t cultivate them, and selling them would bring disaster!”

“Why so many women’s undergarments? Yan Sen really knew how to party!”

Zhou Qing frowned as he rummaged, pulling out fifty supreme-grade spirit stones and handing them to Lu Yaoyao.

Lu Yaoyao’s face filled with shock.

“Take them—finders keepers!” Zhou Qing waved his hand and continued searching.

Lu Yaoyao smiled happily and accepted them at once.

Others’ gifts she might refuse—but her father’s? Of course she could accept them without guilt.

Just these alone would be enough to support her breakthrough to Soul Transformation—if she could quickly grasp her own unique insight.

“Hmm, what’s this—”

Soon, after clearing everything, a black box caught Zhou Qing’s eye.

The box looked utterly ordinary, but the moment he looked at it, a chill ran down his spine.

For safety, he didn’t open it immediately; instead, he carefully retrieved it and performed an appraisal.

【Blood Soul Assassination Charm: This seemingly ordinary box contains a special talisman forged by Yan Clan’s Fifth Ancestor, capable of unleashing three full Zhan Ling realm attacks in rapid succession.】

Seeing the appraisal, Zhou Qing’s back instantly drenched in cold sweat—he shuddered with relief.

If Yan Sen hadn’t been blinded by rage inside the Nianye Fire Mirror and had simply activated this, Zhou Qing would now be soul-annihilated.

“What is this?” Seeing Zhou Qing’s pale face, Lu Yaoyao leaned in curiously.

Zhou Qing didn’t answer; he took a deep breath and gently opened the box.

A blood-soaked talisman lay inside, its front bearing a grotesque demon-head engraving.

“The Yan Clan’s Fifth Ancestor forged such a killing technique for Yan Sen’s defense—his power must be unfathomable, and Yan Sen’s status in the Yan Clan must be extremely high.”

Thinking of this, Zhou Qing’s eyes turned icy with murderous intent.

He must be permanently left here—otherwise, the doom awaiting him, and even Taiqingmen, would be catastrophic!

“I have a plan—it’s dangerous, but we have no other choice!” Zhou Qing picked up the Blood Soul Assassination Charm and turned to Lu Yaoyao.

Lu Yaoyao’s face hardened with resolve. “No matter the risk, I’m willing!”

Seeing no fear in Lu Yaoyao’s eyes, Zhou Qing felt a warmth in his chest.

If both could face death without hesitation, they’d already succeeded half-way.

“We’ll need to put on a show…” Zhou Qing leaned close to Lu Yaoyao and whispered his plan in full.

Though worried, Lu Yaoyao nodded firmly.

…

Soon, as the fifth day ended, ripples suddenly spread around them.

Then, an irresistible force appeared out of nowhere, dragging their bodies.

And they were forcibly expelled.

“Master, spare me! I didn’t mean to intrude… Is this outside? I’m not dead? I’m out—I’m out! Hah!”

It was the same island, the sea breeze gentle.

But at that moment, a hoarse plea echoed from nearby.

There, curled on the sand, trembled a seven-colored primordial spirit, clutching its head in terror.

No one knew what Yan Weiyi had gone through—he’d lost his physical body entirely.

Soon, when he noticed the changed surroundings, his terrified eyes filled with wild relief after barely surviving.

His gaze swept over and saw Lu Yaoyao lying nearby, drenched in blood, and… Yan Sen, equally unconscious.

“Cough—cough—” Yan Weiyi rose quickly, racked by violent coughing that sent ripples through his Primordial Spirit.

“I understand now—five days. Outsiders can stay inside for no more than five days before being expelled!”

Yan Weiyi suddenly realized, then his face twisted with malice.

“That damned Zhou Qing had already entered once, yet said nothing about this—he clearly had ulterior motives. But judging by this, he never came out. Did he die inside?”

Yan Weiyi’s face filled with regret.

If this bastard truly died inside, and he lost the Jin Peng technique, how would he ever enter again?

His own physical body and storage pouch were both left behind there.

Who could have guessed that a terrifying Demon Emperor still lived inside?

Though sealed, even a fraction of its attack nearly killed him in that mountain range.

“Forget it. Being alive is already lucky. As for the Jin Peng technique, perhaps Zhou Qing’s sect has it—I can extract the knowledge through soul-searching. Then I’ll ask Sen’er where he found them!”

Yan Weiyi muttered to himself, then stared at Yan Sen, sprawled nearby, disheveled and drenched in blood, speechless.

I never thought my nephew and I were this ill-matched—look at your torn clothes. Did something happen to you after I left?

This unlucky bastard!

He didn’t care about anything—he rushed over.

His own storage pouch was lost inside, but Yan Sen’s was still here, and he desperately needed to recover.

“Sen’er—”

Yan Weiyi hurried to “Yan Sen,” flipped him over, and propped him up.

“Uncle… uncle?”

“Yan Sen” let out a muffled moan; his face, streaked with blood, opened its eyes—and revealed a cold, piercing gaze utterly unlike Yan Sen’s.

Seeing that unfamiliar face, Yan Weiyi froze, as if unable to comprehend what was happening.

This was Yan Sen’s clothing—how could his face be Zhou Qing’s?

If Zhou Qing was here, where had Yan Sen been sent?

But the next instant, Zhou Qing’s lips curled into a sinister smile, and a crimson glow suddenly flared in his hand.

So close, he could clearly smell the nauseating stench of blood rising from the talisman’s inscriptions.

“No—”

In an instant, he understood what it was—and his scalp went numb.

He spun to flee—but—

It was already too late!

BOOM!

A terrifying crimson light erupted, spewing countless scarlet talisman marks, striking Yan Weiyi without warning.

Yan Weiyi felt a unimaginable tearing sensation explode from deep within his Primordial Spirit—as if countless blades simultaneously shredded his soul.

His entire body was hurled backward like a struck hammer, smashing through dozens of sea-wood trees.

The agony nearly shattered his consciousness, but his survival instinct forced him to push farther away.

When he looked down, he saw his Primordial Spirit had been violently split in half.

His nearly translucent spirit body was riddled with jagged cracks, each oozing iridescent Primordial Spirit fluid.

The next moment, he spat out a mouthful of blood laced with Primordial Spirit fragments—its hue shimmered with tiny iridescent specks, the unmistakable sign of a Zhan Ling realm spirit unraveling.

His eyes were filled with disbelief.

Then he snapped his head up toward Zhou Qing.

“This is the Blood Soul Assassination Talisman left by the Fifth Ancestor for Yan Sen to save his life—how did it end up with you?”

Yan Weiyi’s roar shook the air, his heart surging with overwhelming regret and fury.

But the intense pain also snapped him back to clarity—he was about to retreat again when sudden coldness flooded the air.

Only then did he realize he’d been trapped inside a wall of pure ice crystals.

Lu Yaoyao, who had been lying unconscious beside him, had already risen, her hands forming seals, a massive ice lotus slowly rotating behind her.

“It’s a trap—a trap deliberately set for me!” Yan Weiyi instantly understood everything.

With Lu Yaoyao holding him in check, Zhou Qing immediately transformed into the second form of the Golden-winged Great Peng.

Like a golden lightning bolt, shrieking as it tore through the air, he closed the distance to the frozen Yan Weiyi in an instant.

“You—”

Yan Weiyi roared, fully aware of what was coming—his face twisted with terror and despair as he poured his last spiritual power into shattering the ice wall.

Amidst the glittering shards of flying ice, Zhou Qing’s figure reappeared.

“It’s time for you to die!” Zhou Qing’s voice was icy, the Blood Soul Assassination Talisman in his palm flaring again.

BOOM!

This second strike shattered heaven and earth—where the crimson light passed, space collapsed inch by inch, forming countless black void fissures.

Yan Weiyi’s screams were swallowed whole; his remaining half-iridescent Primordial Spirit trembled violently, dissolving visibly before their eyes.

When the blinding light faded, nothing remained—no trace of Yan Weiyi.

Lu Yaoyao rushed over, breathless with excitement.

“Dead? Zhou Shixiong, is he dead?” Lu Yaoyao asked urgently.

Zhou Qing’s vast spiritual sense swept the area repeatedly—though he confirmed no residual Primordial Spirit remained, something felt off.

It had been too easy.

Even if heaven itself had aided him—causing Yan Weiyi to arrive here with only a wounded Primordial Spirit—

And even with two full Zhan Ling realm attacks, Zhou Qing still doubted: could a powerhouse at least at late Zhan Ling really be killed by just these two strikes?

After all, the first strike, delivered at point-blank range, had only shattered half his Primordial Spirit.

That alone proved that even a Zhan Ling realm’s spirit, reduced to nothing but a spirit, possessed terrifying vitality beyond their imagination.

“Something’s wrong—”

The next instant, Zhou Qing finally realized what it was.

After a Zhan Ling realm dies, the surrounding area is shrouded in dense negative emotions for centuries.

Sunlight vanishes for years; the weak-willed humans or beasts are devoured by the lingering resentments of those the Zhan Ling had slain, becoming mindless “gravekeepers.”

But now, the sky was crystal blue, the sea breeze gentle—no trace of the lingering aura left behind by the death of the Peng Emperor of Lingku Mountain or the Spider Emperor of Blood Prison Mountain.

Everything suggested that Yan Sen’s eighth uncle had not perished.

“Shh—” Zhou Qing immediately signaled silence, then slowly closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, his pupils had turned crimson.

In an instant, the world before him transformed utterly.

The outlines of trees and rocks now flowed with faint blue spiritual energy veins.

Even the flow of sea wind became silver threads, weaving into a net in the air, every tremor magnified into clear trajectories.

Zhou Qing began scanning slowly, the crimson glow in his eyes intensifying.

At a level invisible to the naked eye, countless tiny spiritual patterns shot from his pupils, spreading like spiderwebs around him.

Each pattern, upon touching an object, fed back vast information: minute shifts in soil beneath the ground, evaporation of dew on leaf undersides, even Lu Yaoyao’s heartbeat.

Soon, near the broken trees thirty zhang away—where Yan Weiyi had crashed—a faint spiritual flow showed an abnormal stagnation.

As Zhou Qing increased his spiritual input, the broken tree seemed to turn transparent, revealing a small fragment of Primordial Spirit curled up behind it.

It seemed sentient, its surface coated in twisted spatial talismans, attempting to conceal itself.

“He’s still alive!” Zhou Qing’s heart tightened, a chill of dread creeping in.

The power of a Zhan Ling realm was truly terrifying—after all that, he still lived?

If not for my Void Spider’s [Dual Eyes], had he escaped today, what would Taiqingmen face next?

SHH!

The talisman patterns in Zhou Qing’s crimson pupils accelerated sharply—he leaned forward, then vanished, appearing instantly beside the broken tree.

The trapped Primordial Spirit fragment sensed the danger and erupted in blinding light, trying to flee again.

“How did you find me?” A desperate scream echoed from the fragment.

Zhou Qing didn’t answer—he activated the final strike, the Blood Soul Assassination Talisman flaring once more in his palm.

Though it was overkill, he dared not keep this thing on him.

He’d already discarded Yan Sen’s storage pouches and other items into the Peng’s Secret Realm.

Yan family had too many tricks—what if they could trace them through spiritual sensing?

With these two dead in this fourth-tier spiritual nation, they’d surely send someone to investigate.

“Young master, spare me! Whatever you want, I’ll—”

BOOM!

Seeing escape impossible, Yan Weiyi begged.

But before he finished speaking, the final strike, radiating apocalyptic force, slammed into the fragment.

Space twisted again; spiritual energy across hundreds of li surged wildly, forming a colossal vortex.

With a thunderous roar, Yan Weiyi’s last remnant vanished—utterly, completely, leaving not even a trace.

“Good stuff!” Zhou Qing looked at the powdered fragments of the rune in his hand, marveling.

This item only needs to lock onto a target and activate—no spiritual power output required at all.

His double pupils shifted again; only after confirming Yan Weiyi was truly dead did he finally exhale deeply, a look of relief spreading across his lips.

He and Little Master Lu had survived this meticulously planned hunt!

Meanwhile, the once-clear sky above the island was collapsing and changing color at a visible pace.

A suffocating atmosphere instantly rose, accompanied by murmurs and mutterings rising all around.

Discontent, anger, anguish, pain, murderous intent… negative emotions surged like a tide.

Feeling this, Zhou Qing’s face broke into a smile.

This was the feeling he wanted!

“This place isn’t safe to stay in—leave quickly!”

Zhou Qing pulled out his flying vessel, grabbed the still-dazed Lu Yaoyao, and swiftly departed.

This was still the territory of the Emperor Bell Beast.

Not to mention the earlier six-colored array, just those three attacks from a fully perfected Cutting Spirit realm were enough to draw the attention of many interested parties.

…

On the flying vessel, Zhou Qing’s fingertip danced with Jin Wu fire, burning Yan Sen’s robes to ash.

After copying the jade slips and magic treasures from the storage pouch, he shattered them into fragments with spiritual power—even dozens of supreme-grade spirit stones were scrutinized repeatedly under his double pupils.

Not a single trace that could expose his identity escaped his inspection.

“Little Master Er’s teachings on survival are still the safest!” Zhou Qing muttered to himself.

Lu Yaoyao sat crouched nearby, chin propped on her hands, gazing at Zhou Qing’s focused profile with worshipful eyes.

The young cultivator’s cautious demeanor slowly merged with the memory of the middle-aged man who used to clean his broken sword late at night.

Survival instinct had already been rooted deep in his bones back then.

And those red double pupils he now had—how had he achieved that?

From that strange nose to these eyes now, why hadn’t I inherited a single trait?

Did I take after my mother?

(End of Chapter)