Chapter 90: The Longest Awakening After the Great Dream

“Where are you hurt? Who could have injured you this badly?”

Wei Lingjiang slightly furrowed her brow, stepped forward, scanned him up and down, hesitated for several breaths, then suddenly yanked up his sleeve and spun him around like coaxing a child.

Seeing Chen Hang’s right arm hanging limp, her pupils tightened further.

“Your son-in-law’s bones must be broken in dozens of places? This bad?!”

Qingzhi, cheeks puffed out, finally swallowed the last bite of her biscuit, then took another huge bite, mumbling unclearly:

“Thank goodness you didn’t go to that Huaiwu Cave—if you’d gotten hurt too, no one would take me to eat, and Qingzhi would starve to death!”

“...Miss, son-in-law?”

Yuan Yangsheng was still dazed when this scene truly stunned him into utter confusion; his hands raised, then lowered, unsure where to place them.

“I said your face was made for soft living—wasting such beauty was a crime—but I never thought you’d already started eating off someone!”

Yuan Yangsheng’s chest was filled with unbearable frustration; inwardly he screamed:

He Jiazhen cast a deep glance toward the gate, swept his sleeve, and departed, saying first:

The middle-aged Daoist nun had unintentionally stirred celestial disturbances; though faintly sensed by the two, they did not guess the true cause.

“You forged it yourself back then—how could you possibly have lost it?!”

“You didn’t find him.”

Those words finally brought joy to Chen Hang within the vermilion gate; he fired off a rapid-fire barrage of questions, and only after confirming the truth did he burst into loud, unrestrained laughter, like an owl of prey.

“Xie Tan, you’re no longer useful—likely you can no longer shield his heavenly fate from calculation. Don’t blame me...”

Beneath a spiritual peak.

Yuan Yangsheng repeatedly tried to open the gate, lifting his foot to step forward, yet each time he touched the gate, it felt as if searing fire burned him—he jerked his hand back into his sleeve, trembling.

Finally, someone nearby couldn’t help pausing to stare, but was met with glaring stares from Qingzhi and Wei Lingjiang; realizing his rudeness, he awkwardly chuckled and hurried away...

“At Shen hour yesterday, you’ll bring He Jiazhen here under the pretense of listening to lectures—prepare seven in advance.”

While Yuan Yangsheng remained silent, a shrill male voice suddenly erupted from within the gate, then broke into loud, wailing sobs:

But that indescribable terror vanished in an instant; even if he caught a glimpse, when he looked up, the sky still blazed with radiant clouds and fiery hues, calm and undisturbed.

The middle-aged Daoist nun tried for a long while, then finally drew in her gaze, shook her head, and lowered her eyes, calming her breath.

After Chen Hang’s wild laughter, he suddenly remembered He Jiazhen’s primary merit.

“I found a promising girl named Ai Yuan—her talent is extraordinary, even the Alchemy Masters of the Flower God Mansion praised her! With her, you’ll surely master this page of the Earth’s Secret Golden Scripture...”

But that long, arduous journey, even if Xie Tan recalled the past, still stirred deep sorrow.

Though dusk was falling, the floating bridge still saw many people walking back and forth.

“Deng Lang, Deng Lang! This is truly heaven’s aid! If you master this Heavenly Demon Art, you’ll never fear the Xie Clan again! Across these four states and seven seas, you’ll no longer be a rat fleeing the streets!”

Her tone grew soft and seductive, urging him inside the gate, inviting him to indulge in wild lovemaking, to revel in the bliss of fish and water.

“Can’t find him today? Tomorrow? The day after? One day, I’ll come crashing through your door!”

Yuan Yangsheng said.

Hearing those words, Yuan Yangsheng’s expression turned urgent.

But it couldn’t last long—soon the collapse resumed.

He Jiazhen was still lost in thought when her wrist was suddenly gripped tight; without fabric between them, the woman’s scorching palm heat surged through their skin contact, sending a shiver through her, jolting her awake.

“Seems like celestial disturbance—maybe I’m just too vague. I felt the veil of emptiness tremble slightly—probably because I haven’t taken blood offerings in days, and my mind wandered?”

“By the way, why did he suddenly become so still? Didn’t you already agree? On matters like this, you must wait seven days, right?”

Aside from Xie Tan.

“Was it truly celestial disturbance?”

“Just let go.”

The two child attendants guarding the gate both tensed, formed a hand seal, and simultaneously raised their dust whisks, sweeping them hard toward the gate.

“Chen Hang, I told you—if you want to escape Xudu Tian, you must first pass through the Gangqi layer... you know this—your own Heavenly Demon body can’t hide from the Gangqi layer’s spirit; it will kill you...”

Before the two gate attendants could speak, Yuan Yangsheng waved his hand; they, unshocked, bowed respectfully and withdrew.

Heat flared in his long, phoenix-like eyes, stirring the heavens themselves—suddenly, thunder and lightning, golden fire and blazing flames seemed ready to descend, annihilating all formless phenomena!

Then he took out a silver-colored compass and several bamboo tally sticks, immediately casting a divination—but no matter how hard he strained his mind, he sensed not the faintest resonance, only exhausting himself in vain.

“It’s as if a great transcendent has raged, throwing the heavenly fate into chaos and hurling you out of this Tongzhao Realm.”

Only after leaving did He Jiazhen finally ask the purpose of his visit.

“The Xie Clan has been searching for you for years—I’ve found not a single trace.”

“Deng Lang, we’ve fled for years, yet still can’t escape that vile woman... You don’t want to die, you don’t want to become Xie Clan’s nourishment—let’s run together, escape Xudu Tian, flee beyond these four states and seven seas! Even if the Xie Clan is one of the Seventeen Great Clans, they can’t chase you into the heavens!”

But seeing the crystal-clear eyes behind the Huaiwu Cave’s veil, the expression was intensely serious.

The sun sank swiftly; the sky blazed with fiery clouds, shifting endlessly—now rivers and mountains, now golden drums, now sheep and oxen, now pavilions, now warships—forms changed in an instant, swirling with vitality, dark and myriad in appearance.

“He’s injured his Lung Metal point—his internal fire is too strong; he should use the Hundred-Zhang Pill first—”

Hearing Yuan Yangsheng’s response, the man I called Chen Hang screamed again.

With a helpless sweep of his sleeve, he gathered all the items and returned to meditation.

Xie Tan, seated on the cushion, suddenly withdrew the seven-colored Flower God Qi swirling around his body; he paced a few steps, then pulled from his sleeve a golden tortoise eight feet tall.

Yet within the vast Fuyu Lake, only two people sensed the celestial disturbance.

“Do you want me to wait for death? To wait for death? Must you see me killed by He Jiazhen before you’re satisfied?”

The male voice ranted in bitter curses for a long while; when no reply came from within the gate, he sobbed again, then gradually fell silent.

Even those who wished to linger and glance were driven off by Wei Lingjiang and Qingzhi’s glares; they dared not overstay, yet still many secretly kept their distance, secretly admiring, unable to resist stealing glances.

“Yes, you’re not seriously injured—rest and regulate your breath after returning, and you’ll be fine.”

Just as the two attendants were drenched in sweat, a cool breeze suddenly appeared beside them; turning, they saw He Jiazhen, face grim, exhaling a thin beam of light, within which faintly hovered an eight-petaled lotus.

In those few breaths, the sky darkened abruptly—as if an endless abyss had opened, ready to crush and swallow all phenomena!

As their sleeves fluttered in the wind, they shimmered with mist and clouds, appearing truly as immortals—no one dared to look up.

At the floating bridge of that islet, people unconsciously gathered in large numbers, causing a great commotion.

And beneath the floating bridge.

At this moment.

No movement was seen.

“Your arm bones are all broken—can you still lift your hands?”

After nearly half a censer’s time, the tortoise spoke slowly, word by word, its voice deep and powerful, breath ragged, as if an old man on the verge of death, gasping for air before collapsing.

Huaiwu Cave saw only the close distance—those warm, deep, Tan -like eyes, devoid of warmth.

“Wandering mind? That’s fine—it’s probably nothing.”

He couldn’t help feeling surprised and amused, glancing once, then again, smiling.

“Male-female intimacy is natural—I won’t stop you, lest I become the villain. But how do you know this is true affection, or merely an inner demon born after Core Formation, deliberately blocking your path?”

He sighed deeply, carefully tucked the tortoise into his wide sleeve, and sent it into his Purple Palace to nurture.

Loud crashes followed one after another!

Seeing a young man gripping a woman’s sleeve, examining her up and down like a doll, her willow-browed eyebrows furrowed, eyes heavy with worry, utterly absorbed—as if no one else existed.

If he were a true scion of the Changzuoliu Clan, the protective treasure he received upon leaving home to cultivate would be worth many times—or even ten times—the tortoise’s value, and that’s rare!

“You’ve become a son-in-law and still risk your life? Chen Hang is really pushing it! I wonder which wealthy family still needs a son-in-law—I’d rather not strive anymore.”

“The veil of emptiness just trembled—it seems something stirred the celestial phenomena.”

Yuan Yangsheng ignored his usual paranoia; his expression suddenly turned solemn, and he asked in a low voice:

As for other cultivators, they remained completely unaware...

The golden tortoise was a secret treasure given to me by the head of the Changzuoliu Clan when I left for the Southern Region’s Flower God Mansion to cultivate.

“I won’t open the door, Chen Hang—I’m afraid you’ll kill me...”

The tadpole-shaped golden talisman inscriptions, which had been dissolving and fading, were suddenly reinforced by the two dust whisks, glowing anew and maintaining their form.

“Master Jin, what are you saying? Without your protection, I’d have been schemed to death during Foundation Establishment—how could I have reached the Cave of Mystery today, let alone Golden Core?”

She steeled herself, then spoke.

Within the vermilion gate, Chen Hang sneered: “It’s the Xie Clan coming—this is because you brought over the old man of the Ai Clan to kill me!”

After a moment of silence, he suddenly flipped his seven fingers, gripping her hand in return.

And that sudden celestial disturbance, within the vast Fuyu Lake, was sensed only by a handful of people, who felt puzzled.

“Master Jin, what did you sense? Celestial disturbance?”

The tortoise paused again, then spoke:

This was because Xie Tan was from a collateral branch and not favored.

“Sister, I’m fine.”

“Deng Lang, Deng Lang—is he here to see you again?”

As if a lion or tiger lurked inside, barely containing its hunger, ready to smash through the gate and devour flesh!

“The Xie Clan—it’s He Jiazhen! That vile woman of the Ai Clan is coming for me again! You know, you know she’ll never let me go! I must subdue my Evil Anger Yin Victory Demon before I can pass the Trial and enter the Hu Zhao Sect!”

For a few strands of essence and longevity fire, Yuan Mou has fought life and death—let alone the later trials of harvesting heavenly Gangqi , how arduous they must be...”

At the residence of Yuan Yang, the Holy Master, within a vast flying palace.

At the front, it was still unexpected, just as usual, ending with He Jiang’s venomous curse.

As the watching eyes grew fewer, Huaiwu Cave remained deeply anxious; Ai Yuan’s brows slightly furrowed, and she called out several times, yet received no reply.

When the cursing ceased, Yuan Yang, the Holy Master, trembled his lips and spoke again, his voice heavy.

This golden tortoise can align with celestial mechanics above and divinate yin-yang hexagrams below; its essence has been worn and damaged by tribulation qi, making it an exceedingly precious artifact.

Yuan Yang, the Holy Master, sighed and repeated words he had spoken for years.

…

Beneath the floating bridge, all men and women stood like elegant trees: the women, slender and lofty in bearing, the men, their faces radiant as morning glory, glowing like lotus blossoms.

Even if not for the golden tortoise’s injury to its primordial root, its lifespan would be long—Left Willow Lady would still have gifted it to herself.

Moreover, this child is a bloodline descendant of Yu Shu Zhenjun, burdened with immense karmic entanglements; whether he survives seventy years is uncertain—he will surely become a handful of yellow earth… At this point, how could he feel sorrow or grief?

The hall fell silent for a long while.

The vermilion door at the topmost level suddenly rang out twice, violently shaking, causing countless tadpole-shaped golden talismans beneath it to ripple like water, flickering and dimming, dense as woven shuttles.

While he was painfully pondering his future, Chen Hang was forcibly dragged around several times by Wei Lingjiang.

He hesitated for a long while before finally, as if making up his mind, clenched his fists tightly.

He hastily raised his head.

Without beginning or end, his pupils golden-red, the carapace’s patterns naturally formed the four hexagrams and four palaces, appearing profoundly mysterious.

Yuan Yang, the Holy Master, had wished to say more, but seeing that scene, his lips moved slightly before he swallowed the words back, saying nothing.

“Yet… old man is nearing the limit of his lifespan; unlike in my youth, I can no longer remain constantly within this realm of heaven and earth’s Jingwei … or perhaps I’ve merely sensed an error—it’s strange indeed.”

I frowned at the golden tortoise.

Ai Yuan paused, then spoke:

His rare, authoritative tone stunned Chen Hang.

By the roadside, a middle-aged Daoist nun witnessed the scene; her fingers clenched and unclenched repeatedly, until finally, her face bore a faint gravity as she sighed.

Before that sigh, the middle-aged Daoist nun’s heart had secretly stirred a hint of murderous intent.

After the radiance emitted, the thunderous sound continued for dozens of breaths, each louder than the last, until finally subsiding into stillness; the vermilion door ceased its trembling.

“Go back. Speak a few words to Lady yourself.”

The two dust whisks were clearly refined talismanic artifacts; once activated, they immediately unleashed twin torrents of light resembling starfire, pouring entirely onto the vermilion door.