Chapter 142: 197, 198

The wilderness was merely barren, not entirely devoid of everything.

The land where the "Zhen" fusion failed remained land nonetheless.

Trees, birds, and even wild beasts were still there. Song Cheng even encountered quite a few people along the way; those people looked like villagers from near Jilei Mountain, having arrived here after being engulfed by that black light.

Although the land here held no great danger, it changed every single day.

Even two people sleeping together might wake up a hundred miles apart in the morning.

And Song Cheng, even when manifesting the Dharma Heaven and Earth Li Fire Kunpeng, with a single flap of his wings covering dozens of miles, and then flying wildly in one direction, was still like being in the palm of the Buddha; no matter how far he flew, he could not escape.

He flew fast, but the changes in this land were faster. After a long time, Song Cheng finally confirmed: no matter which direction he went, as long as he could not move fast enough to transcend the scope of this place, he would be pulled back to the center.

This land seemed to forbid anyone from leaving.

Thus, Song Cheng began to try various methods. He tried flying very, very high, yet upon reaching a certain height, he would be pulled back to low altitude.

He attempted to destroy this wilderness, but this land was inherently active and changed almost every moment; the mountains remaining upon it seemed to be playing a game, here one moment and there the next.

But Song Cheng did not give up; he tried day after day.

In the process of trying, he was not without gains.

During one of the soil's shifts, he accidentally discovered a trace of a broken Yin She.

That Yin She was likely not small originally, but it had been violently pulled during the destruction and had almost vanished; it floated in mid-air, and it was impossible to enter.

But Song Cheng's "Nine-Layer Nether Tower" sucked it in, and then he entered.

In the ruined Yin She, things left behind by the Jilei Mountain Mountain God were hidden. Although a portion had vanished, some remained—some cultivation technique papers so damaged they were unrecognizable, some fragmented things that looked like a diary, and a token-like keepsake with an "Ink Plum" mark.

Song Cheng transferred the three items to the Nine-Layer Nether Tower.

The cultivation technique papers had little value; the fragmented parts revealed some exquisite points of "cultivating Dharma Heaven and Earth," and as for the "Earth Tier Grade C" technique, records of it did exist, but it was indeed extremely fragmented.

Looking at it this way, the Jilei Mountain Mountain God's words were not necessarily true.

All that talk about crossing the river by feeling the stones, and only thinking of a solution when reaching the Extinction Land, was pure nonsense.

From the very beginning, they were aiming for "Extinction Land, seizing the mountains and rivers."

However, these fragmented techniques, combined with the diary, gave Song Cheng a general understanding of the breakthrough method for the "Extinction Land," and he knew that the "breakthrough methods" the Mountain God told him were nine times out of ten correct.

It stood to reason; as long as the Jilei Mountain Mountain God fused with the Zhen, they would be completely invincible. They only needed to stall for time, so why would they risk lying and being seen through?

As for why they wrote a diary?

Song Cheng guessed that when a "Zhen" is "imprisoned" in a place for thousands of years, writing a diary... at least it keeps one from going insane.

As for the "Ink Plum" token, Song Cheng held it in the Nine-Layer Nether Tower, but there was no reaction.

But once his Soul left his body and he held the token, there was a faint, mysterious echo, as if it were the sound of deep-sea waves or singing from the edge of the sky, ethereal and vague, with no knowing where it connected.

Song Cheng studied these while searching for a path.

After an unknown amount of time, he discovered that the "activity" of this land had decreased, and the "pulling frequency" was not as fast. Thus, during a sudden eruption, he relied on extreme speed to burst out of the wilderness and arrived in a world with color.

White snow fell to the ground, the black soil looked like the skin of a black dog, some evergreen and withered branches were intertwined, and further away, there was curling cooking smoke. "Out... finally out."

A guess flashed suddenly in Song Cheng's heart.

Perhaps this "Chaos Journey" had only just formed, so it was extremely active, but after a period of time, it had stabilized.

And this one formed by a Zhen and a... it could hardly be compared to the "Chaos Journey" between continents.

Su Mengzhen had said that "the Chaos Journey is like pieces of chaotic rags stitched together"; the Jilei Mountain level was at best a small rag. Thinking of the periphery of the continent, where many Zhen and Zhen might have died, Song Cheng only felt that the waters of this world were terrifyingly deep.

Numerous thoughts flashed by; the absent-minded look in his eyes slightly retracted, and then he walked toward the small town with smoke and fire, opening his perception to listen to the conversations of the townspeople.

It would have been fine not to listen, but upon listening, he was completely stunned.

The idle gossip on the bustling streets, the various yamen runners in the government offices—all kinds of information pointed to one thing: the dynasty had changed, and the new imperial dynasty was named Song, the Great Song.

Song Cheng scanned his panel again, made a quick calculation, and knew that more than eight years had passed since he first entered Jilei Mountain.

More than eight years... the Shang Dynasty had been replaced.

Song Cheng did not wait any longer; he soared into the air, transformed into a Kunpeng amidst the Canghai-like clouds, and flew rapidly toward the Imperial Capital in his mind.

He never expected that upon reaching a high realm, let alone cultivation, even fighting a battle would be calculated in years.

He had merely led troops out to destroy the Jilei Mountain Mountain God and the Great Doctor, and eight years had actually passed.

Eight years... A Ting must be forty, right? This gave rise to an indescribable emotion in his heart.

The god-like demonic shadow blotted out the sky and sun; even in the clouds, it still cast its giant shadow passing over the earth, mountains, rivers, and plains, leaving behind many myths in the local areas.

To ordinary people, Song Cheng was already a god.

But gods also have sorrow.

He could destroy, but he could not save.

He could live forever, but he could not share even a bit of his own lifespan with the most important people.

The entire family of the Song Prince Mansion in the Imperial Capital had completely moved into the Gugong.

After Song An established unparalleled achievements and returned to the Imperial Capital, Zhao Hua transferred everything, and in less than two years, Song An directly "declined three times and accepted three times," accepted the "throne voluntarily abdicated by the Heavenly Son of the Great Shang," and changed the dynasty to Song.

After Song An became the Heavenly Son, he worked diligently for the first few years, changing the former model of "various Jianghu sects managing their own territories" into a centralized power. But after these things were done, he suddenly found himself lost... his achievements were vast, and he had expanded the Great Shang territory to the Wanling Empire.

His strength had already entered the Qi Realm; no matter how he cultivated, this life would actually stop here.

His power was so great that he had become the founding Heavenly Son and had centralized power.

As for the Changsheng Bulao Yao, he also knew the truth about the "Flat Peach" and knew that there was likely no such thing in this world.

In this life, what else was there to seek?

Suddenly losing his direction, Song An realized that there seemed to be one more thing he could do, and that was—indulge in pleasure! Thus, Song An began the mode of "favoring treacherous officials," "three thousand beauties in the harem," "massively renovating palaces," and so on.

Tong Niangzi had scolded him many times, and each time he would obediently admit his mistakes, but after Tong Niangzi went into seclusion, he would change and become even worse in the blink of an eye, while simultaneously killing those who dared to report him.

However, no matter how much he messed around outside, he was extremely good to An Chenyu, Su Ningyu, and even the current Princess A Ting and Princess Song Mo.

At the same time, he was also secretly searching everywhere for his father's whereabouts.

But he had long been accustomed to his father's elusive nature.

Having lived for nearly forty years, he had also lived to understand: his father and he were simply not people of the same world; his father was a god high above, he was the Heavens, so his title of "Heavenly Son" could be considered well-deserved.

On this day, Song An handled affairs casually, then leisurely sat upon his goat-drawn carriage.

The carriage had no one to drive it, just wandering aimlessly through the Huangcheng on its own.

This was a method of amusement Song An had only recently thought of—wherever the goat carriage stopped, he would get off, and the first young beauty he saw would be his target for tonight's favor.

He had taken over the Four Symbols Guard secretly cultivated by Zhao Hua, personally nurtured several mysterious forces of his own, and simultaneously single-handedly managed the "Prayer Spirit Guard" operating within the Wanling Empire; added to the fact that he himself had spent many years in military service, it could be said that in the entire Imperial Capital, the number of people who could talk back to the eldest young master of the Song Family could be counted on one hand.

But now, who would still dare to run and report the news, run and tell those few people that Song An was so dissolute and lawless?

Da-da-da. Mee-eh-eh-eh. The goat pulling the carriage seemed attracted by the herbs growing in the winter, heading toward a certain place.

Song An lay in the luxurious, warm blanket of the carriage, staring into the darkness with drunken intent, watching the light cast in as the curtain was lifted again and again, grabbing a wine jar at will, tilting his head back to gulp it down, his ears listening to the clamor of the busy market outside and the hurried sounds of people dodging, and vaguely, he could even hear some discussions regarding "scriptures," which included the Daoist scriptures of Xuanwu Temple, as well as the Classic of Filial Piety currently promoted by the imperial dynasty—he didn't know who had pushed this "Classic of Filial Piety," but he felt it was alright, so he used it. For some reason, he suddenly thought of his eldest sister and third younger sister today.

The eldest sister, such a capable person, yet now... the third younger sister had been foolish for over twenty years... Life is so fragile, just as the saying goes in the markets—drink today's wine while you have it, worry about tomorrow's sorrows tomorrow; only by enjoying the moment can one not fail this life.

The current situation was as solid as a golden fortress.

As long as he, Song An, lived, and as long as Xuanwu Temple remained, then nothing could turn the world upside down.

This was also the reason why Song An could enjoy himself with such peace of mind.

Mee-eh-eh-eh. The speed of the goat carriage grew slower and slower, as if today's land of gentle indulgence would land right here; Song An yawned, lifted the curtain, and glanced outside, his drunken eyes squinting—it seemed to be the residence of some scholar's family.

"Let's stop here."

"Cough, cough, cough."

Intense coughing echoed in the empty garden, accompanied by the hurried sounds of palace maids calling out things like "Princess."

The woman seemed to have aged much faster than ordinary people.

Now only forty, she already had many white hairs.

Her body could not be warmed even a little by the heated floors laid in the Gugong, and even if she held a hand warmer all day, she was still cold.

She was cold in her early years, and by middle age, she began to suffer greatly.

The woman was now holding a rabbit hand warmer, sitting on a rattan chair with a blanket, while in front of her, many palace maids held ceremonial fans to form a wall of fans, shielding her from the winter's cold wind.

"Cough." The woman lowered her head, looking at the rabbit hand warmer.

The hand warmer was so cute, but she was no longer cute, and she suffered from the agony of a cold constitution.

She was heavy with sleep, looking powerlessly into the distance; she no longer did the work of sewing small animals, not because she was lazy or indolent, but because she was tired, weary, and exhausted—now, even if she did just a little bit of work every day, her whole body would sting with pain; that kind of pain was not in the flesh, not in the bones, but a series of unimaginable, agonizing pains that made one want to commit suicide.

She endured this pain, day after day, year after year.

Even though many, many people had examined her, and even though many miraculous Pills had been taken, they were of no use, and instead, things only grew worse.

She looked into the distance with a pale face, her body so thin that a gust of wind could blow her over.

She looked at the horizon, and suddenly thought of that man again.

But immediately, she became afraid.

In that man's eyes, she had always been a cute daughter.

But now, even when she looked at herself in the bronze mirror, she could no longer perceive even a shred of cuteness.

A long sigh sounded in the bitter winter.

The clear light shone down, yet there was also light snow drifting.

"It's snowing," a palace maid said softly.

Another palace maid said, "Princess, let us return to the room."

The woman wrapped her thick coat tighter and nodded.

She still remembered that when she was little, she loved snow; on snowy days, she would build snow rabbits with that man, and to keep the snow rabbits, that man had sewn a rabbit for her out of fur.

But, having fallen into such a state of health, from now on, the mountains and rivers had nothing to do with her; all kinds of charm and all kinds of scenery, even if they existed, could no longer enter her eyes.

The woman turned around, but as if she had seen something, she suddenly fell into a state of extreme shock, and then became incomparably nervous.

"Quick, quick, quick!" she urged hurriedly, "This Princess must get on the bed."

The palace maids had never seen the Princess in such a state; although they did not understand why, they busied themselves in a hurry.

Soon, the Princess hid under the covers.

And she turned her back to the door.

Movement came from outside the door.

A palace maid asked, "Who are you, and how did you enter the Gugong?"

Other palace maids were already planning to shout "There is an assassin."

But the Princess's voice interrupted them.

"Let him in."

The palace maids were stunned, sizing up the appearance of the strange youth, for a moment not knowing which family's young master he was, but... they had never heard of the Princess showing favor to any young master from a powerful family.

The youth did not say much, stepping into the hall.

"Yuchen, you go down as well," the Princess said to the personal palace maid closest to her.

That palace maid was stunned for a moment, then looked strangely at the youth who had entered, but she did not say much, bowed slightly, and then retreated.

"Close the door," the Princess said again.

The palace maid named Yuchen had an even stranger expression, but she obediently closed the door, and urged the few palace maids outside who were risking their lives to eavesdrop to hurry to the Waiyuan.

Inside the Princess's hall, the youth seemed to let out a long sigh of relief, saying repeatedly, "Good, good."

A Ting, who was now the Princess, suddenly had red eyes, choking out a cry: "Dad..."

Song Cheng said, "Why are you talking to Dad with your back turned?"

The Princess said, "I'm not, I just haven't woken up yet."

She leaned against the inner side of the window, tears streaming down.

She did not want Dad to see her current aged appearance.

That way, she would no longer be Father's adorable daughter.

Song Cheng stepped forward, sat by the edge of the couch, thought for a moment, and said, "A Ting, Father might have a way."

"What is it?"

"In a while, Father plans to take you and Xiao Mo'er to the north together."

"The north?!"

"Yes, the north." Song Cheng inferred from the Mountain God's notes and his own understanding of the "Land of Extinction" that if this land still held a Land of Extinction, it must be deep within the Barbarian lands, though the Four Fierce Lands would certainly exist there as well.

He was unwilling to watch A Ting grow old and die, so all these years he had been thinking of a way: he wanted to find a weaker "Land of Extinction," forcibly seize it through possession, and then yield it to A Ting and Xiao Mo'er.

Although he did not know if this method would work, it was the only way to save his daughter.

However, this process would likely be extremely long; several decades of time would be considered fast.

Therefore, he had to take A Ting and Xiao Mo'er with him.

Before that, he still had to go to the Barbarian lands to find some guides.

PS: The word count today is indeed low; I will try my best to make up for it tomorrow.

(End of this chapter)