Chapter 653: Paid Content

Xiang Little Wei Yuan's heart stirred; he turned his head and saw Shi Meng standing beside him, covering her mouth with a light laugh. Xiang Little Wei Yuan's face darkened and asked, "What happens next?"

"What comes after is paid content."

Xiang Little Wei Yuan stared in shock, then fury surged in his chest—he was about to kill this unscrupulous demon. Suddenly, rapid footsteps came from the side; he turned to see a young Ji Ji Liuli flying toward him. Both were caught off guard and collided.

Seeing the young Ji Ji Liuli fly backward from the impact, Xiang Little Wei Yuan grabbed her and gently set her down. The young Ji Ji Liuli looked bewildered, glancing around; her gaze swept right over Xiang Little Wei Yuan, yet she saw nothing—completely unaware of his presence.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan reached out and pressed lightly against her nose. It sank slightly under his touch, with no abnormal sensation at all.

The young Ji Ji Liuli let out a startled cry as a blade-sharp blue light flashed before her, slicing just past her nostril. The strike came without warning, but Xiang Little Wei Yuan's magical body was strong and his reflexes swift—he pulled his hand back in time, narrowly avoiding being cut.

The young Ji Ji Liuli's pupils shimmered with multicolored light as she scanned the surroundings, muttering, "Again! You Xukong demons—come out and die!"

Yet no matter how many Dao techniques she used, she could not perceive Xiang Little Wei Yuan's existence. Watching her puffed-up expression—so unlike the fierce, invincible Senior Sister he knew—Xiang Little Wei Yuan couldn't help but reach out, grab her cheek, and tug it.

This time, countless magical blades and Dao swords erupted around Ji Ji Liuli, slashing and stabbing wildly—but Xiang Little Wei Yuan had already retreated over ten zhang away. Having pulled off the prank, he felt immense satisfaction; his Dao heart instantly cleared. He was about to let out three loud laughs when he remembered Shi Meng was nearby—he quickly composed himself and resumed his solemn demeanor.

The scene shifted again.

Ji Ji Liuli stood atop a sheer peak, gazing at the boundless heavens and earth. The mountain wind howled, whipping her robes as if she were the only soul left in the universe.

For some reason, from this scene, Xiang Little Wei Yuan felt only despair, only loneliness.

Loneliness was understandable—geniuses were always lonely. Looking back at Zhang Sheng's life, most of her time was spent reading, practicing swordplay, or, for the past decade, wandering to earn a living raising her disciple. She was naturally alone.

As for Xiang Little Wei Yuan himself, he had none of the demeanor or self-perception of a genius cultivator. He loved company—he'd always go see what the Long and Phoenix talents were up to, and kept meticulous track of every rebel's movements.

In his spare time, he often wrote letters to former sectmates, but he wrote more than he received replies; for the past few months, he hadn't received a single response.

Yet Xiang Little Wei Yuan simply could not fathom where Ji Ji Liuli's despair came from.

At this moment, Ji Ji Liuli stood motionless atop the peak—that was her current dream.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan watched a while longer, then called to Shi Meng: "Where is her heart tribulation? Is this all there is?"

"I'm not a heart demon—how would I know where her heart tribulation lies? Shall I introduce you to one?"

"No thanks!" Xiang Little Wei Yuan refused immediately. If a heart demon entered her dream, he might never expel it.

"These are the only possible clues related to her heart tribulation. There may be more elsewhere, but I can't see them. If you want to, you can watch slowly."

Xiang Little Wei Yuan shook his head. "Save it for now. I'll review it later when I have time. Is there anything else to see?"

"Nothing about the heart tribulation—but plenty of paid content. Want to reconsider?"

Xiang Little Wei Yuan refused outright, with firm moral indignation.

He didn't even want to look at the paid content—he felt ashamed just thinking about it. Right now, he was considering finding a chance to secretly refine Shi Meng. It knew far too much.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan exited the dream and saw Shi Meng floating before him, studying him. But he knew her true form—understood those beautiful eyes were merely decoration.

"Why can't you find her heart tribulation?"

"She's subconsciously avoiding it. My dream realm is still incomplete—it needs her to build it herself. Only after experiencing enough dreams will the dream world become vivid and real, and only then will her heart tribulation gradually emerge. It takes time."

"If you want to accelerate it, there's a way: place her in an extremely dangerous dream and see what she does. For example, throw her into the lair of some heretical sect…"

Xiang Little Wei Yuan immediately shook his head. "No. No rush. Take it slow. If she shows any unusual behavior, call me."

Shi Meng called after his retreating back: "Don't leave! You could be the heretical sect's leader… consider my suggestion!"

Xiang Little Wei Yuan ignored her, left the Youhan Realm, and returned to Qingming.

The opening ceremony of Qingming Military Academy had ended; students were leaving the training ground in small groups, heading toward their quarters. This was their last moment of ease—after dinner, evening lessons would begin.

Cui Yu, Bao Yun, and others were studying the upcoming days' curriculum and training. Xiang Little Wei Yuan didn't disturb them; instead, he reviewed the memories of the Dao Foundation warriors he'd left behind—and unexpectedly discovered that the speaker to the students wasn't Cui Yu, but Chu He True Person.

Undeniably, when not fighting, the old Taoist looked impeccable and possessed exceptional oratory skills; he began with his personal cultivation path, then expanded to family, nation, and the world at large, delivering a captivating narrative that left the trainees with the illusion that joining the military was their destined fate.

New uniforms, new battle armor, entirely new high-level cultivation methods, improved living conditions for their families, and superior status and treatment made the military profession shine brilliantly—second only to the Creator Immortal Sovereign. No, even the Creator Immortal Sovereign paled in comparison, for the Sovereign's very purpose in creating the world was to serve all beings.

Moreover, the Qingming forces were well-equipped with sturdy shields and powerful artillery, supported by domain energy and numerous professional physicians from the medical halls—making it nearly impossible to die on the battlefield.

Even if one truly sacrificed their life for the domain, as long as their merits qualified them for entry into the Lingxiao Hall of Heroes, there remained a slim chance their soul could be revived and reborn through the divine path.

In short, serving in Qingming was like a centipede with a hundred legs—dead but not yet decayed.

The old Taoist's eloquence was simply extraordinary; his ability to befriend a weasel-snake stemmed from genuine talent.

At this moment, one trainee asked why Wei Yuan was not listed on the curriculum, expressing their desire to learn warfare directly from him.

Wei Yuan immediately felt a profound sense of kinship, thinking this young man was truly exceptional.

But at this point, the old Taoist said the Domain Lord was unsuitable to teach them, unlike Cui Yu and others.

Most trainees were stunned, yet the old Taoist remained calm and said, "Sages are born with innate knowledge—can that be learned? The Domain Lord's tactics are unpredictable, arising from instinct alone—something impossible to acquire through training."

"For example, when the Domain Lord defeats enemies, he simply says, 'Follow me!' and charges forward—and they follow, breaking through effortlessly. When you try shouting 'Follow me!'—you'll just crash headfirst into an iron wall!"

The trainees deeply agreed, and even Wei Yuan thought the old Taoist was right—no wonder he was so highly regarded by Huang Yun Master Fenhai Zhenjun.

At this time, Qingming was thriving in every aspect; Wei Yuan absorbed refugees, opened farmland, and mined resources, preparing to enjoy this rare period of peace. In his spare time, he could also lend a hand to his senior sister.

Outside the Zhao royal capital, atop Zuoyin Mountain, stood a courtyard—simple yet not shabby, quiet yet not lonely. Here, mountain breezes and flowing springs provided music, while flying birds and spiritual foxes served as companions.

Two men were playing chess in the courtyard: one an elderly man who seemed to hold the world in his heart; the other a middle-aged man, imposing in bearing, though his temples were now streaked with gray.

The chessboard between them was peculiar—not the standard nineteen-line board commonly used by chess masters, nor the rare but occasionally favored twenty-one or twenty-seven-line variants.

This board had an irregular shape, vaguely resembling the territorial contours of Zhao's surrounding regions. As they placed their pieces, some areas were tranquil, allowing stones to take root firmly, while others were treacherous—each move triggered ripples that erased the stone unless multiple stones were placed consecutively to secure a foothold.

Suddenly, the middle-aged man turned away from the fiercer southern front and placed a stone in the northwest. The area was nearly empty, with only a few scattered pieces.

As soon as the stone landed, the board trembled—and the stone took root.

The middle-aged man's brow relaxed, and a smile finally appeared on his face. "The fruit is ripe—I should go pick a few."

The old man was startled, staring long at the northwest corner, murmuring, "That's odd—I clearly foresaw this region brimming with deadly peril, requiring immense willpower and skill to hold. How could it suddenly become so easy?"

The middle-aged man chuckled, "Though you observe the celestial patterns, even heaven's fate shifts constantly and is influenced by the tide of human destiny. At least in the western territories, my decisions are, in a sense, the very tide of fate."

The old man's brow tightened further. "Strange—I've observed the heavens for five hundred years and have never encountered such a thing. Could some immortal have intervened to obscure the celestial signs?"

The middle-aged man smiled, "My Li family has its own ancestral immortals—if other immortals interfered, do you think I wouldn't know?"

"This move is perilous—watch me strike your heartland…" The old man placed another stone in the south. The southern front had already been fiercely contested, and his additional stone instantly tipped the balance.

But as soon as the stone landed, it vanished—failing to take root.

The old man was stunned, exclaiming, "Could Ji State be falling into chaos?"

The middle-aged man laughed, "Precisely why I played this idle move now. Though the western lands are barren, they are vast and cannot be sealed off."

"But…"

"Rest assured, I, Li Li Shenji, know my limits—I won't give historians cause to gossip. He just won a great victory against the Witch Clan; his reputation is at its peak. If I attacked directly, I'd invite criticism. But if I claim unoccupied land, who can blame me? For instance, like this…"

He placed another stone, striking with a sharp click beside an existing one, pressing tightly against it. Instantly, the board erupted in turmoil—the original stone flickered between light and shadow.

The old man stared intently, but could no longer discern the celestial patterns beneath the chaos.

Gazing at the mist-shrouded western lands, the middle-aged man laughed heartily, "If one cannot triumph when heaven's patterns are obscured and the situation is unclear, what kind of enlightened ruler is that?"

(Chapter End)