Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen: The Great Primordial True Scripture Spoken by the Dao Lord of Divine Dwelling and Radiant Pivot

One arm swung, three horses could not match it.

With such terrifying force drawing the bow, even a solid block of blue stone blocking the way would be pierced and shattered.

Every primordial breath cultivator skilled in archery is like a mobile siege crossbow; once an arrow is loosed, the target does not merely die, but their corpse is rarely left intact—often reduced to a pulpy mess, guts burst and intestines torn.

Those yellow-clad men slain one by one by Chen Hang were the best proof.

Yet at the lower level of the pavilion, the boy clutching his abdomen and screaming appeared pale but showed no sign of imminent death.

“It’s a defensive talisman artifact—congratulations, younger brother.”

On the other white horse, Xu Zhu squinted slightly, fixing her gaze on the five-colored pendant glowing with shifting radiance at the boy’s waist, and smiled:

“With this item, your journey into the Earth Abyss grows even more secure. I sense his qi is erratic and unstable—he must have just recently attained his realm. You need only keep firing arrows to drain his primordial breath; never let him close in. In no more than half a cup of tea’s time, you’ll bring him down.”

The boy who had been writhing and howling while clutching his abdomen suddenly froze.

He had planned to feign weakness, lure Chen Hang closer, then strike with another talisman artifact to flay him into a bloody corpse.

But if he truly faced constant arrows from afar…

He realized—even if he wasn’t shot dead, he’d be worn down to death…

“Chen Hang, you’re mad! Your mistress Yan Zhen is already dead—where do you get the audacity to provoke me?”

The boy scrambled to his feet, gasping:

“Do you know who my father is? He has six sworn brothers—all my uncles—and I come and go freely in the imperial harem of the Rong Kingdom. If you so much as pluck a hair from me, you—”

Before he finished speaking,

another arrow shot him backward, felling him flat.

When he rose again, face ashen, Chen Hang, looking down from above, noticed the five-colored pendant no longer gleamed as brightly as before.

“How many more times can your primordial breath activate that artifact?”

Chen Hang’s gaze was deep and dark as he drew the six-stone bow fully again, snapping it taut—and the arrow shot forth like lightning!

The air split with a sound like tearing silk, like thunder.

Chen Hang fired dozens of arrows in rapid succession; under the drumming rain of arrows, the boy’s five-colored pendant flickered wildly, then finally went dark with a final scream, utterly extinguished.

“Hum!”

This arrow, unimpeded, pierced straight through his left shoulder. Had his primordial breath’s spiritual awareness not warned him at the last moment, causing him to instinctively tilt his head, he’d already be a corpse on the ground.

“Aaaahhhhh!!!”

Intense pain brought tears and snot streaming down the boy’s face, his eyes bloodshot.

But as he howled, another arrow exploded like thunder, piercing his left knee.

“Next arrow, your right shoulder.”

Chen Hang dismounted, took the arrow quiver from the woman in the fox-fur cloak, ignored her flushed, tear-streaked face, and casually tied the quiver to his waist.

“Wait, I have—”

*Shhh!*

The boy screamed upward, flung backward by the arrow, pinned to the vermilion pillar of the pavilion.

“Let me explain—”

*Shhh!*

Another arrow.

With a wail, his right knee shattered completely, bone shards streaked with blood flew far into the pond, stirring a ring of crimson ripples.

“Heng-gege, Heng-gege, it’s me, Wang Duanbao, waaaaahhhhh.”

The boy bawled: “For the sake of our childhood bond, spare my life—I’m in unbearable pain, I swear I’ll never do it again…”

Fifty paces away,

Chen Hang’s eyes flashed with malice.

Slowly, deliberately, he plucked an arrow, drew the bowstring back with a grating tremor, stretching it into a perfect full moon. The motion, performed by him, was graceful as flowing clouds and water—yet carried a cruel beauty.

Wang Duanbao, blinded by tears and sobbing uncontrollably, naturally failed to witness this scene that would have shattered his soul.

“My father never loved me—he even stole my lawful wife last year. Heng-gege, spare me, I’ll help you deal with that old bastard.”

He sniffled: “I know many of his secrets—you—”

He opened his eyes at that moment.

All he saw was an arrow hurtling like lightning.

“…”

Wang Duanbao froze, speechless.

He watched helplessly as the arrow, screaming through the air from fifty paces, pierced layer upon layer of qi, aimed straight at his brow.

Die!

He would die!

This arrow could not be blocked—he was certain to die!

Wang Duanbao trembled with primal terror, a dread unlike any he’d known flooding his heart. He cursed himself for becoming a primordial breath cultivator and foolishly descending the mountain, for provoking this killer.

He had never imagined that even after ascending the mountain to become a male favorite, Chen Hang’s archery had not dimmed—it had grown even more lethal!

Years ago, he’d glimpsed this person dressed as a woman and, mistaking them for one, had sent a love note through a city literati. Back then, this man had chased him down on horseback through the wilderness, drawn his bow, and shot three arrows—all aimed at his head—sending him tumbling off the cliff.

When Wang Duanbao barely survived and crawled back up, Chen Hang had already been taken by Yan Zhen to Xiao Ganshan. Since then, his already fragile mind had grown even more confused.

“I shouldn’t have used the five-colored pendant to block his arrows—I should’ve used the Six-Yin Celestial Ghost Banner instead.”

As the arrow neared his body, Wang Duanbao suddenly realized:

“Yes, Xiao Yu taught me before our wedding: defense is inferior to offense—I forgot…”

But it was too late to repent.

Wang Duanbao watched helplessly as the arrow drew closer, time stretching thin between life and death—his final thought flashed:

“If I die here… will Xiao Yu and Father still remember me when they sleep together?”

…

*Crack!*

The arrow struck precisely the hairpin on his head, shaking the entire pavilion slightly, dislodging dust. Wang Duanbao’s body shuddered belatedly, and his pants wetted.

At the mansion gate,

Xu Zhu dismounted, puzzled: “Why spare his life, younger brother? Do you truly intend to use him as an inside agent to kill even his father?”

“Yang Mountain is a precious place, rich in spiritual energy—wasting it on that old Daoist is a shame. Besides, the grudge is already sealed. Once a thief, how can you guard against him a thousand days?”

Chen Hang calmly lowered his bow: “Wang Duanbao, after all these years, what realm is your father in?”

“You’ve just killed one of his sons—now you expect the other to serve you? Unlikely,” Xu Zhu shook his head. “But his father’s realm probably isn’t high, is it?”

“Immortal Master, Immortal Master—the bearded man your brother killed earlier is my nephew, not my son! Not my son!”

Wang Duanbao, barely escaped death, trembled at the lips: “I’m the son! I’m the son! He always wanted to devour Xiao Yu! Nephew and son? They don’t get along!”

“I asked about your father’s realm—what’s this Xiao Yu nonsense? Speak truthfully!” Xu Zhu glared.

“Qi Condensation sixth layer. Qi Condensation sixth layer.”

Chen Hang and Xu Zhu exchanged glances; after a moment’s hesitation, the latter gritted his teeth and gave a slight nod.

“Thank you, elder brother.” Chen Hang bowed deeply to the ground.

“You and I… no need for thanks—but make this clear…”

Xu Zhu grimaced: “If things get truly dire, I’ll drag you away with me—no reckless stunts. Don’t worry, I’ve trained the Earth-Spirit Step for years—no one at Qi Condensation fifth, sixth, even seventh or eighth layer can catch us!”

As they spoke,

the servants and guards of the Chen mansion, previously poisoned by Wang Duanbao, groaned and rose, clutching their heads, hastily grabbing swords and blades to rush over.

Inside the hall,

blood soaked the floor; the remaining clan elders limped over to Chen Hang, their expressions complex and unreadable.

“Heng-er…”

“Uncle.”

Chen Hang smiled faintly: “And, Clan Chief and all elders—it’s been a long time.”

“Heng-er, you…”

“Before I ask—what relics did my father leave behind?”

Clan Chief Chen Kuang, whose arms were shattered, had just opened his mouth to soothe him when Chen Hang cut him off with a calm tone. Meeting those dark, still eyes, Chen Kuang’s heart lurched, every hair on his body stood on end—he nearly stumbled backward.

“Give them to me.”

Chen Hang extended a hand, utterly calm.

…

…

Several days later, in a quiet chamber.

Chen Hang frowned as he closed the yellowed pages, his gaze flickering.

It was an ancient, worn book.

On its worm-eaten cover were several large characters:

《Shenwu Shuhua Daojun Speaks the Great Primordial True Scripture》

…

…