Chapter 206: Friend, It

"One Qi transforms into Three Pure Ones?"

Seeing this bizarre scene, Wu Xian instinctively recalled this great divine art, one that appears frequently in xianxia fantasy novels.

But after clearly seeing the forms of the two figures, he realized he had overthought it.

One of them was a young Daoist clad in yellow and purple robes, his features bearing a three- or four-tenths resemblance to Lu Dongxuan's current face—he was Lu's past life, Qi Xuanzhen of Long Hushan, the former Number One under Heaven before Li Chungang.

Both exuded similar qi, draped in ethereal Daoist robes, radiating an aloof, effortless demeanor.

The second figure was a towering man wearing a flat-topped imperial crown and a yellow imperial robe, his body wreathed in ten thousand rays of radiant light and a thousand auspicious hues.

Yet his face displayed a yin-yang chaos, shifting endlessly, impossible to perceive his true form.

One of the Five Directional Emperors—the Central Yellow Emperor.

Of course, this was not the original body, but a fragment of will summoned by Lu Dongxuan at the cost of his fortune—a projection whose cultivation had not reached Land Immortal, yet gave Wu Xian the sense of being far more dangerous than Lu Dongxuan himself.

"So you can even call for backup…? What, planning a righteous mob beatdown?"

Wu Xian's gaze lingered for a moment on the Central Yellow Emperor's face, then he grinned teasingly, showing not the slightest hint of panic.

The next instant, a flash of golden light pierced through space, appearing behind Wu Xian in the blink of an eye.

"CLANG!!"

A simple, ancient golden immortal sword had somehow slashed toward Wu Xian's neck, its blade scraping his skin and sparking blindingly, leaving a clear red mark—but not a single breach.

"Not bad—my cervical spondylosis even feels better."

Wu Xian first flicked his finger, sending the golden ancient sword flying off his neck, then reached up to touch the spot struck by the blade, his expression amused; by the time he withdrew his hand, even the red mark had vanished.

Seeing this, Lu Dongxuan's pupils contracted slightly.

From their earlier clash, he knew Wu Xian's physical body was far stronger than an ordinary Heaven-Tier Immortal, but the golden sword that had just struck was the Central Yellow Emperor's primordial Dao artifact—not a projection, but teleported directly from the original body via a great divine art.

Though suppressed by earthly laws and unable to unleash its full power, its sharpness still far exceeded earthly limits—even the Five Directional Emperors themselves dared not meet it head-on.

Yet even so, it had failed to scratch this man, not even break his skin—this was simply unbelievable.

"Don't look at me like I'm some monster."

Wu Xian twisted his neck, producing a crisp cracking sound, then grinned at the three figures before him.

"You've resorted to this trick—looks like you've truly run out of other cards… If so, I won't waste any more time."

No sooner had he spoken than his entire body turned to golden light, instantly teleporting before Lu Dongxuan, fingers curling into a fist, and he struck.

A fist imprint, blotting out heaven and earth, erupted in an instant—its terrifying force cascading from the nine heavens, slamming directly onto the Central Yellow Emperor's chaotic face, dragging it bodily into shattered space.

So fast!

Faster than before!

Lu Dongxuan reacted half a beat too late; he was about to rush forward to join forces with the Central Yellow Emperor's projection—when two other powerful qi signatures locked onto him and Qi Xuanzhen beside him.

"Without rules, there can be no square or circle."

A withered voice rang out, as if uttering heavenly decree, a single phrase sealing fate.

Immediately, Lu Dongxuan and Qi Xuanzhen felt binding forces encircling them—they could still move their bodies, but could no longer teleport or move swiftly through space.

"Zhang! Fu! Yao!"

Lu Dongxuan spoke each syllable slowly, and then two figures appeared together.

One wore a Confucian robe, his face aged—he was Zhang Fuyao, the founding sage of Confucianism, who had lived over eight hundred years.

The other wore a black robe; though equally aged, his spirit and vigor were immense, his frame towering—clearly a very formidable old man.

The Number Two under Heaven, Lord of Wudicheng, Wang Xianzhi.

"I never expected to meet Lu Zu in person—what a delightful surprise."

"And Qi Xuanzhen of Long Hushan—after I dueled the Old Sword God, you had already ascended. Back then, I was quite regretful, but now it seems I may finally get a chance to fight you."

Wang Xianzhi first glanced at the closed rift in space, then turned his gaze to the two Daoists before him, his eyes brightening with rising battle lust.

Lu Dongxuan ignored him, turning instead to Zhang Fuyao with a cold gaze: "Are you breaking the pact we made back then?"

Clearly, Lu Dongxuan and Zhang Fuyao knew each other—they lived in similar eras, and Zhang Fuyao, who had always sought to oppose Heaven, would never have abandoned such a powerful ally as Lu Zu.

But like Wu Xian, Zhang Fuyao had immediately sensed Lu Dongxuan's extraordinary origins the moment they met—he was likely the reincarnation of some Emperor, and his willingness to cooperate instantly cooled by half.

Yet unknown to him, before Lu Dongxuan's soul-severing reincarnation, he had sought out Zhang Fuyao himself, promising to help sever Heaven's connection to the mortal realm—in exchange, Zhang Fuyao would assist his cultivation and make preparations for his future.

Eventually Zhang Fuyao agreed. After years of planning, and later with the addition of the True Martial Great Emperor, this gave rise to the peculiar structure of the Snow World.

Even Huang Longshi's self-deluded identity as the "Book Turner" was a joint fabrication—their collective act of implanting him with vast false future memories, all to exploit his genius and ignite the Spring and Autumn wars, scripting the outcome they desired.

Yet…

"As you see, I now have a better choice."

Zhang Fuyao smiled, utterly unconcerned by Lu Dongxuan's accusation, embodying sheer audacity.

"I dare not dream of wiping out the Immortal Realm—but clearing out you lot, who treat the mortal realm like a latrine, coming and going as you please—I'm more than happy to see it done."

Beside him, Wang Xianzhi's lip twitched—he had not awakened his true soul, but had already learned from Zhang Fuyao that he himself was the reincarnation of the Western White Emperor, meaning he too was among those to be "cleared out."

"Even if you succeed, what then? As long as we wish, we will one day return to the mortal realm—and when that day comes, we will be far better prepared, and show no mercy whatsoever."

"Are you certain your future can withstand such a consequence?"

Lu Dongxuan said, his tone devoid of warmth.

At this, Wang Xianzhi's eyes narrowed, a flicker of revulsion crossing his gaze; Zhang Fuyao's smile faded, his expression growing grave.

"That's none of your concern."

At that moment, space nearby shattered again; golden light flashed, and Wu Xian reappeared, holding a golden ancient sword that hummed incessantly.

Crackling!

Lightning arced, and the ancient sword fell silent; Wu Xian turned to Lu Dongxuan, whose face had turned as dark as ink, narrowed his eyes, raised the sword, and grinned.

"Friend, it's time to go. Remember, when you return to Heaven, tell your original body to wait—I'll be coming up soon, and then…"

"I'll kill you again."

…

Moments later, thunderstorms raged across Mount Wudang, all eighty-one peaks trembling without cease for a long time.

No one outside knew what had happened, but a month later, Emperor Jiang Ren of Chu issued an edict proclaiming Mount Wudang the state religion of Chu, placed under the authority of the State Preceptor "Primordial Great Luo Heaven," from which point forward it would command all Daoist sects as the foremost sect of the Xuan School.

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