Chapter 50

Mount Zhongnan.

The sun had passed its zenith.

Behind Mount Zhongnan lay a winding, hidden path up the mountain, nearly impossible for ordinary people to find.

Only elite disciples of the Three True Teachings and local mountain folk knew its existence; others rarely even heard of it.

On both sides of the trail, ancient trees towered, their dense canopies filtering sunlight into dappled patches.

The roars of wild beasts rose and fell intermittently, sending chills through the bones.

Added to the steepness of the path, no one without real skill dared tread here.

It was unusually quiet, free from the noise and crowding of the front mountain.

Travelers passed only occasionally.

At this moment!

Two unusual figures appeared on this tranquil mountain path.

One was a boy, slender and frail.

Perhaps exhausted from the climb, he slumped against a massive tree, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

The boy was young, about sixteen or seventeen, his face still youthful, dotted with faint freckles.

Yet he looked hollowed out by wine, women, wealth, and vice.

Before the boy stood a middle-aged scholar.

He was tall and slender, his skin luminous as jade; though his temples were faintly streaked with gray, it only deepened his mature charm.

His brow radiated profound wisdom and refined elegance, his bearing outstanding, his presence radiant.

If any lady from the capital were here, she would be utterly captivated.

“Master, this mountain path is treacherous—I can’t go another step!”

The boy gasped, sweat pouring down his face, exhaustion etched across every feature.

The middle-aged scholar remained calm and composed.

As if strolling along a flat road, his face showed no flush, his breath steady, not a speck of dirt on his boots.

He glanced at the boy and smiled:

“Your body broke its primordial yang at eleven or twelve—of course it’s depleted. Walking more is good for you.”

“It’s bitterly cold now, yet spring’s energy stirs; sweating will help solidify your kidney essence.”

Seeing the scholar’s calm demeanor, the boy grinned:

“How about you carry me for a bit, Master?”

The scholar’s smile grew warmer, like a spring breeze brushing his face:

The middle-aged scholar, upon hearing this, smiled even more warmly, as if caressed by a spring breeze:

The boy looked at the scholar’s kind expression.

Something occurred to him—he turned pale, shaking his head like a rattle, quickly saying:

“Never mind, Master, you’re joking!”

He knew well: though this scholar seemed approachable, he was a true demon.

The boy’s name was Xie Mu, third son of the Xie family of the capital.

The Xie family was respectable in the capital, mingling with high-ranking court officials.

But under this demon’s hand, he’d likely be crushed—

…and crushed he’d be.

The first time he met him, he saw the man rowing a boat on a lake, no oarsman in sight.

The boat drifted on its own!

Intrigued, he shouted to his servants to throw silver onto the boat:

“Fine performance! Reward!”

Now he wished he could slap himself twice.

Later, they became acquainted. The middle-aged scholar appeared a destitute scholar, yet his aura was extraordinary; he confessed he’d been wounded by women and wished to drown himself in the lake.

Xie Mu laughed mockingly:

“With money, what woman can’t you have? I’ll take you out and show you the real thing!”

Thus, they called each other brothers.

Xie Mu took the scholar to every brothel, even sharing one woman with him; they roamed the capital, singing and carousing daily, gambling, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

One day,

the scholar suddenly burst into ecstatic laughter, declaring he had awakened.

Xie Mu shook his head and laughed: “Another madman!”

He himself had “awakened” after winning money—then lost it all the next day, and even went all-in!

The scholar suddenly asked if Xie Mu had enemies.

Xie Mu casually mentioned a noble youth who always beat him at gambling—his surname was Sun.

Unexpectedly!

The next day, shocking news spread through the capital:

The Sun family was wiped out overnight.

The Sun mansion was sealed off by the government, reeking of blood; everyone in the capital trembled with fear.

He found it unbelievable, yet never suspected the scholar.

That morning, he returned home from the brothel.

As he opened his door—

one hundred and eight human heads lay neatly arranged inside. He saw the heads of the Sun brothers.

The middle-aged scholar sat at a table, eating plain noodles.

He slurped loudly, even brought Xie Mu a bowl, as if nothing had happened.

Xie Mu fainted on the spot.

From then on, he dared not call him brother.

Seeing his scholar’s attire, he dared address him as “Master.”

Xie Mu had asked the scholar his name—during their drunken escapades, he’d always called him “Big Brother.”

Now he only wanted to be a grandson.

The scholar smiled and said:

“Huang Dao.”

“The Huang of Heaven above, the Dao of the Way of Heaven and Earth.”

Xie Mu had never heard the name.

But he was truly afraid.

Now Huang Dao was coming to Mount Zhongnan—he didn’t want to go, but dared not refuse.

He feared Huang Dao might give the Xie family a “Manchu-Han Imperial Feast,” so he gritted his teeth and came.

Thus, the two had walked together.

Huang Dao gazed at Mount Zhongnan, hands calmly clasped behind his back.

Suddenly he asked:

“Xie Mu, who do you think is the most powerful on Mount Zhongnan?”

Xie Mu didn’t hesitate:

“Lu Chen, Lu Shaobao, of course.”

“When he retired to Mount Zhongnan, I was heartbroken—I drank all night and had to hire two courtesans just to recover!”

Huang Dao chuckled.

“He is indeed one of your so-called heroes—but still a mortal. If I wished to kill him, he would die without question.”

“Whether Lu Chen or royal nobles, to me they are no different from fish and shrimp in a river.”

“This man is indeed what you call a hero, but he is still a mortal; if I wish to kill him, he will die without doubt.”

“You want to kill Lu Shaobao?”

Huang Dao shook his head.

“He has done me no wrong—I won’t kill him. But if you hate him, I can kill him for you.”

Xie Mu hurriedly said:

“No, no—Lu Shaobao is a good man.”

Huang Dao spoke softly, his voice tinged with weariness and indifference:

“Good and evil are merely labels imposed by mortals. To some, they are no more than ant hills—ants don’t harm anyone, yet a single step crushes them. To those who step, it’s an insignificant thing.”

Xie Mu stepped down from the tree and stood aside, curious:

“Good and evil are merely definitions imposed by mortals. To some, they are no more significant than an ant colony—ants do not harm people, yet with a single step, their lives are crushed, and to those who step, it is but a trivial matter.”

Huang Dao smiled, his tone utterly casual:

“I’ve come here to slay a dragon.”

Huang Long smiled, his tone utterly unconcerned:

“I came here to slay the dragon.”

Xie Mu’s face instantly changed.

Mount Zhongnan naturally has no dragons, but next spring, the Emperor will ascend Mount Zhongnan to pray for the people.

“You want to kill the Emperor!”

Xie Mu himself was terrified by his own words and quickly covered his mouth.

Huang Dao nodded indifferently.

Huang Dao looked up at the light filtering through the dense forest, unable to see the sky, and said casually:

“So what if he’s the Emperor? He’s merely one among ordinary mortals—in my eyes, no different from any common man.”

“If his actions defy the Dao of Heaven, I have every reason to slay him.”

Xie Mu said cautiously:

“Defy the Dao of Heaven?”

Huang Dao smiled: “I am the Dao of Heaven.”

Upon hearing this, Xie Mu’s face fell into despair.

“Wait, then why did you bring me along?”

Huang Dao said with a trace of gratitude:

“If not for you, I would likely have spent years waiting in vain among the mortal world.”

“And missed this—Heaven’s Change!”

“I naturally owe you something.”

Xie Mu’s mind shattered: You damn bastard, you’re trying to kill me!

You kill the Emperor, and we’re both done for—no explanation will save us.

I treated you like a brother, took you out for food, drink, brothels, and gambling.

Are you trying to get your brother killed?!

Huang Dao paid no heed to Xie Mu’s expression; instead, a faint smile curled at his lips:

“Of course, those three likely sensed it too!”

“This is a transformation unseen in a thousand years.”

“For three thousand years, our Sacred Gate has produced countless brilliant ancestors—all of them eventually dying here.”

“The one thing they spent their entire lives waiting for has finally arrived!”

The supreme demonic scripture, The Heavenly Demon Codex.

It records countless cultivation methods refined and improved by generations of demonic masters.

It also holds the highest heart method of the demonic sect—The Dao Heart Sowing Demon.

This method is mysterious and immensely powerful, yet its cultivation difficulty is extreme; throughout history, only a handful have succeeded.

The middle-aged scholar was Huang Dao, the demonic sect’s Grand Master thirty years ago, who nearly went mad trying to cultivate The Dao Heart Sowing Demon.

Now he has completed it.

Yet beyond these techniques, the final page of The Heavenly Demon Codex concealed a painstakingly crafted prophecy:

Countless demonic ancestors had yearned for it with all their hearts.

“Spiritual energy returns.”

“Martial power shatters the void.”

The next chapter has a little detour—it’ll be posted tomorrow, don’t rush!

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(End of Chapter)