Chapter 77: Dao Sect Divine Art: All Things as Talismans (Request Subscription)

Wu Qilu is Qiu Zhengdao.

Qiu Zhengdao is Wu Qilu.

“To seek the true Dao is to walk a path without deviation—because you are already on the immortal path!!”

Beneath the dim moonlight, in the hazy midnight, a soft voice rang out, shattering Jiang Hu’s inner composure.

“Jiang Hu, it’s been a long time!”

Wu Qilu grinned, as if reuniting with an old friend, radiating long-lost joy—then an invisible force surged upward, violently hurling Jiang Hu away.

Puchī…

Jiang Hu crashed to the ground, spewing a torrent of blood.

Every detail of that night descended again like a nightmare!!!

“What’s going on?”

Facing this sudden turn of events, Qi Ji’s face darkened as he cried out in shock.

“Don’t come closer… he’s… that madman from back then…” Jiang Hu gritted his teeth.

“You impersonated a Maoshan elder, disrupted my Dao heart, and led me to slaughter…”

“I didn’t impersonate anyone.”

Wu Qilu shook his head, his smile growing colder: “We were classmates from the same sect.”

“You’re from Maoshan…” Qi Ji gasped.

But before he could finish, he fell silent.

“Why don’t you go on?” Wu Qilu sneered at Jiang Hu. “What kind of look is that?”

“Didn’t those Maoshan Daoists tell you?”

“People are always fooled by partial so-called truths… that’s the tragedy of humanity…”

“You never learned about refining living humans in the mountains?”

Wu Qilu mocked Jiang Hu, then turned to Qi Ji, utterly unconcerned by their stunned expressions.

“Have you ever seen a movie?” Wu Qilu changed the subject.

“There’s a line in it that’s especially good: some people live for face—they can’t bear a speck of dust on their surface; others live for substance…”

“But substance is filthy indeed.”

At these words, Wu Qilu burst into laughter—wild, unrestrained, laced with biting mockery.

“A thousand-year legacy cannot survive on mere brilliance and grandeur alone…”

“Little brats, don’t be so naive—the world isn’t black and white; that’s only in books.”

He turned to Jiang Hu: “Like you—you killed those living people, even if you didn’t know. But your hands are stained with blood. By their standards, you deserve to die…”

“If I killed you now, would you think it fair? Wouldn’t you feel this damned world needs to change?”

At this, Wu Qilu’s smile revealed a flicker of excitement.

“The demon of Wuwei Sect…” Qi Ji growled.

He’d only heard whispers from his sect elders that this lineage was reviving—he never imagined he’d encounter one here.

“Demon?” Wu Qilu sneered.

“Humans eat grain and meat, become corpses, rot into soil to nourish plants. Grass and trees grow, feed deer and fawns; tigers and leopards devour them…”

“Humans are merely one link in the cycle of Heaven’s Dao—born, then dead, with no distinction of good or evil…”

“Heaven’s Dao is vast and formless—it has never known good or evil, right or wrong…”

“Right and wrong are merely terms imposed by sages…”

“That’s why the Daodejing says: as long as sages live, great thieves will never cease—they’ve stolen the authority to speak for Heaven’s Dao…”

Wu Qilu’s gaze slowly withdrew from Qi Ji: “Little brat, if you can’t even grasp this truth, what are you cultivating for? What Dao are you practicing?”

As his words faded, Wu Qilu’s eyes shifted.

“Jiang Hu, you are the most perfect talisman I’ve ever forged… Kexi , still not perfect…”

Speaking, Wu Qilu stepped toward Jiang Hu.

“You deserve to die…” Jiang Hu gritted his teeth, summoning the last of his remaining Yang Qi.

At the same time, Qi Ji braced himself like facing a deadly foe—but his body could barely hold up.

“Stay there.”

At that moment, Shen Qingli stepped between Jiang Hu and Wu Qilu, watching him warily.

“Mr. Qiu, I never imagined you hid so deeply.”

“All these years, I’ve provided the Shen family with countless Nascent Souls… pity… you were too useless. You failed at the last moment, wasting all my faith in you.” Wu Qilu shook his head.

“You’ve been manipulating things from behind the scenes,” Shen Qingli murmured, frowning.

“I wouldn’t call it manipulation—I simply followed the current.” Wu Qilu smiled lightly.

“But you… now that the Shen family is finished, you still side with outsiders?”

Wu Qilu sneered at Shen Qingli, clicking his tongue: “Humans are truly contradictory…”

“Your arms are ruined—how dare you still act so aggressively?”

Shen Qingli’s eyes flashed with cold light; between her slender fingers, a talisman ignited…

“Wind-Grip Talisman!”

As the talisman burned out, violent winds surged around them, as if gripped by a giant hand, hammering toward Wu Qilu.

“One talisman—Break the Wind!”

Wu Qilu stood motionless; a single leaf drifted gently down before him.

No sooner had the words left his lips than a talismanic character appeared out of thin air within the leaf—suddenly, brilliant light erupted skyward, forming a barrier that halted the raging wind. The shockwave shattered the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

“This… that… that’s…”

Beneath the lonely, pale moon, utter silence.

Jiang Hu, Qi Ji, and Shen Qingli all stared, eyes wide, faces trembling with shock, fixed on the figure stepping out of the dust.

All three were cultivators who had studied talismans since childhood—they knew exactly what they had just witnessed, what that move meant.

“Dao Sect Divine Art: All Things as Talismans!”

Qi Ji gritted his teeth, forcing out each word through clenched teeth, awe slowly rising in his eyes.

Dao Sect Divine Art: All Things as Talismans—once awakened, no artifact is needed; with a single thought, one can imprint talismans onto all things in the world.

Everything will become his talisman.

“Truly… All Things as Talismans…”

Jiang Hu never dreamed such a supreme talisman art—regarded as the pinnacle by all talisman masters—would appear in a Wuwei Sect disciple, in a man without hands.

It was unthinkable.

“A horse without hooves can still paint ten thousand talisman paths,” Wu Qilu grinned.

“When I suffered my calamity and left Maoshan, I awakened this Divine Art…”

“The world truly is fascinating, isn’t it?” Wu Qilu walked forward, elegant as a gentleman.

Hū…

Shen Qingli instantly tensed, stepping forward to strike.

“One talisman—Sword Kill!” Wu Qilu said calmly.

A falling leaf drifted before him; as his words ended, the talismanic character glowed—and the withered leaf shot forth, transforming into a black blade of light that pierced Shen Qingli’s chest with lightning speed.

Shen Qingli’s body jolted violently, with no time to react—her vital breath scattered, and she collapsed stiffly to the ground.

“Qingli!”

“Qingli!”

Jiang Hu and Qi Ji shouted simultaneously; the former’s eyes bulged, golden light flaring from his fingertips as he traced Yang Qi.

“If you let life and death stir your heart, you’ll fall into demonic tribulation and sink into darkness…” Wu Qilu watched Jiang Hu’s movements and smiled.

“Your cultivation is still too shallow.”

As he spoke, Wu Qilu turned slightly, glancing toward the shadowed corner.

“Little brat, you’re cunning—hiding in the dark, waiting for my weakness?”

At these words, Zhang Fan stepped out from the shadow, his face grim beyond measure.

He had never expected this seemingly harmless guest of the Shen family to be the most dangerous one.

“I heard Hai Zhu mention you. Now that I’ve met you… you’re truly extraordinary…”

“Wang Tao?!” Zhang Fan’s gaze sharpened; the image of Wang Tiantian… no, Hai Zhu Wang Tao flashed in his mind.

“I always felt… we’ve met before.”

Wu Qilu shook his head.

As his words faded, he vanished from everyone’s sight.

Zhang Fan’s expression changed; he sensed danger and instinctively stepped back—then a cold voice sounded beside his ear.

“A true master has no weakness!”

No sooner had the words spoken than Wu Qilu’s figure loomed like a mountain crashing down upon him.

“Master Chu!”

At that moment, Zhang Fan looked behind Wu Qilu, his face lighting up with relief.

Wu Qilu’s heart lurched—he spun around instantly—but behind him was empty, not even a shadow!

And Zhang Fan had already fled.

“Aren’t you the one who said you had no weaknesses?” Zhang Fan darted away, yet his mouth never stopped.

“Little ghost...”

Wu Qilu’s expression darkened slightly; his lips parted, uttering only four words.

“Three Talismans: Earth Imprisonment!!!”

Hum...

The three drifting leaves instantly bore inscribed talismanic scripts, shooting toward Zhang Fan, Jiang Hu, and Qi Ji; in an instant, the three leaves transformed into chains of mist and vapor, imprisoning the three.

“This talisman can bind the physical body and trap the Nascent Soul...”

Wu Qilu was overwhelmingly powerful—these three youths, already exhausted from battle, could not possibly match him even in full strength.

“You’re still too green. Come with me,” Wu Qilu sneered at Zhang Fan.

“I’m sure Hai Zhu will be eager to see you.”

As he spoke, Wu Qilu extended his tongue, as if desperate to taste his prey.

Boom...

At that moment, the mountain’s weather shifted abruptly; dark clouds gathered, obscuring the moon, and a rumbling sound rolled down from the sky.

“The sky’s changing?!” Wu Qilu instinctively looked up; the mountain’s fickle weather meant little to him.

Yet the thunder in the sky grew louder, as if Heaven itself was enraged and would not be defied.

Boom...

At that moment, a bolt of lightning split the heavens, striking directly toward Wu Qilu.

(End of Chapter)