Chapter 216

Ye Hongshang navigated the fissure, following subtle variations in the strength of yang fire.

Xie Jinhuan led the two stunning women in a single file, Nan Gongye holding the Yin-Yang Ruler to shield them from surrounding yang fire; as they went deeper, the power of heaven and earth compressed the shielded zone to just one zhang around them, forcing the three to squeeze together, their energy expenditure doubling.

If they removed the Yin-Yang Ruler now, the three would soon be corroded by the purest extremity of the Five Elements’ fire, reduced to dried corpses.

Noticing Xie Jinhuan’s excessive speed—almost blindly charging inward—the two women clearly hesitated.

After all, wielding the Yin-Yang Ruler required qi support; if they got lost underground without finding the exit, they couldn’t tunnel through miles of rock, and with no supplies inside Phoenix Mausoleum, they’d be trapped to die slowly.

“Xie Jinhuan, are you certain this path leads there? If we take a wrong turn...”

“Relax, I’m sure—it’s just ahead.”

“...”

Seeing this, Nan Gongye still chose to trust Ah Huan; they followed for less than half a li, then entered another fissure—suddenly, light appeared ahead.

The crimson glow illuminated the stone walls, not blinding, as if someone had lit a bonfire at the fissure’s end.

Even with the Yin-Yang Ruler shielding them, Nan Gongye felt a searing heat originating from his soul, and unconsciously slowed his steps.

Bu Yuehua, seeing the firelight, instantly brightened:

“We actually found it! This must be it.”

Xie Jinhuan followed the ghost bride to the fissure’s end, where the opening revealed a chasm dozens of zhang wide.

The chasm stretched endlessly on either side, its depths pitch-black and unknown; no phoenix beasts lurked within—only a skull-sized flame floated in midair, illuminating a dozen zhang around it.

The flame was utterly pure, seemingly without root, yet an immense, boundless force of heaven and earth emanated from the chasm’s depths, converging into the flame, causing it to sway silently.

Xie Jinhuan sensed the terrifying power contained within the flame, but what lay below the chasm filled him with the feeling of an ant gazing at the heavens; he frowned and asked:

“What’s down in the chasm?”

Ye Hongshang glanced downward, feeling a strange familiarity but unable to recall—she replied:

“All the Five Elements’ power of the Southern Frontier converges underground; this fireball is the result of ‘when water overflows.’ What exactly it is, we’ll figure out later—first, absorb it.”

Standing there, Xie Jinhuan felt as if he dared not speak loudly, lest he disturb the divine beneath; without delay, he asked:

“Who goes first?”

Bu Yuehua had already agreed beforehand: “Absorb it quickly, then find the next one—if we keep this luck, we’ll claim all the opportunities today.”

Nan Gongye nodded: “Hurry. Secure it before it slips away.”

Xie Jinhuan felt that with the ghost bride guiding him and the Yin-Yang Ruler in hand, this was like picking up fortune for free; he didn’t care about order, stepping to the fissure’s edge and attempting to draw the flame with his own qi.

Because the Yin-Yang Ruler repelled yang fire and the heavenly yang fire’s pressure was overwhelming, the task was difficult.

As the crimson-glowing fireball drifted slowly closer to the three.

Xie Jinhuan opened his arms, following the ghost bride’s method, enveloping the flame with his qi, carefully stripping away its burning core, leaving only the boundless Five Elements’ spiritual resonance, then slowly drawing it through his meridians into his dantian.

The Divine Gift of Lingguang contained too much heavenly power for any living being to withstand; it could only be sealed within the body, slowly nourishing the flesh through its faint leakage—this is why the Five Directional Divine Gifts could be passed down for generations.

The absorption took about an hour; Bu Yuehua and Nan Gongye waited eagerly for the next opportunity, their hearts anxious but silent, merely watching patiently.

Xie Jinhuan had expected a smooth journey, but as he neared completion, the floating Ye Hongshang suddenly frowned:

Xie Jinhuan had expected this journey to be uneventful, but as he was nearly finished refining it, Ye Hongshang, floating beside him, suddenly furrowed his brows:

“Hm?”

Xie Jinhuan sensed danger, quickly turned and signaled.

Nan Gongye and Bu Yuehua, seeing his look, immediately grew alert, gripping their swords, holding their breath, staring toward the other end of the passage.

After only a moment of waiting, voices echoed from the silent depths of the fissure:

“That cultivator already found the purple-gold stone—why not go further in?”

“Without a high-grade magic treasure to protect them, ordinary people reach their limit there; even if they know the opportunity is nearby, they can’t go deeper.”

“Hey?! There’s firelight ahead...”

“Huh?! There seems to be firelight ahead…”

Nan Gongye hadn’t left any markers on this trip; seeing the intruders had found them directly, his heart sank.

Anyone who could descend this deep so early, walking as if in a garden, either wielded a celestial artifact capable of avoiding yang fire, or possessed cultivation so profound it was terrifying—or both.

The three of them were certainly elites in the mortal world, but among the mountain peaks, they were mere beginners; they’d lose to anyone they met.

Seeing Xie Jinhuan nearly finished absorbing, Nan Gongye held the Yin-Yang Ruler in his left hand, drew his magic sword with his right, ready to defend the fissure at all costs to buy Xie Jinhuan time.

Bu Yuehua also didn’t want trouble; she silently drew the slender waist knife wrapped in black cloth, staring at the fissure’s end.

Xie Jinhuan knew that if conflict erupted here, all three would drain their dantians and still might not survive back to the surface; after brief thought, he suddenly spoke:

"Don't worry—Xiao Qixia always acts this way; even after ending her seclusion, she'll go compete with Shang Laomo, never cause trouble in Daqian..."

His sudden words startled the two women, who nearly kicked the yellow-haired brat down the cliff—but they weren’t fools; they quickly understood: only Ye Sheng would dare call Qixia True Person “Xiao Qixia.”

Nan Gongye’s mind raced, continuing: “Master Ye speaks truly, but Qixia True Person has been in seclusion for a hundred years—if she’s been wounded by Shang Lianbi...”

“I’d give Shang Lianbi ten lives—he wouldn’t dare kill her. Back then, when the sects slaughtered the Corpse Ancestor at Longgu Beach, he was the last to arrive, terrified to die—I haven’t even settled that score with him...”

“Shang Lianbi is just a rogue cultivator—he values his life, naturally...”

“I’d give Shang Lianbi ten times the courage, and he still wouldn’t dare kill outright—back then, when the various sects slaughtered the Corpse Ancestor at Dragon Bone Beach, he was so afraid of death he showed up last. I haven’t even settled that score with him yet…”

The faint voices echoed through the silent underground.

Outside the fissure, Lu Yan held the Chi Huo Token beside Xi Yanjun, both frozen, faces green.

That address, that tone of supreme arrogance, treating Shang Lianbi as beneath notice—only Ye Ci, the patriarch of Confucianism, the First of the Three Teachings, could be this “Master Ye.”

Lu Yan knew when entering Phoenix Mausoleum, anyone might appear.

But a sect master was already absurd—let alone Xian Deng, the one who crushed the Witch Cult rebellion, the “Sage of Books and Swords,” ranked among the top three in the entire realm—was this even plausible?

“Sage of Books and Swords” meant a Confucian Sage who was also a Martial Sage—the strongest martial cultivator since the legendary Martial Ancestor.

Ye Sheng might need both hands to defeat Shang Lianbi, but killing the head of the Zhan Yan Sect? He wouldn’t need a second sword—and Lu Yan, as the sect’s second-in-command, might not even merit a blade from him.

Lu Yan realized he’d stumbled upon a true immortal; he wished he were dreaming, that he’d never come to Phoenix Mausoleum, and prepared to slip away silently.

But if he could hear their voices, how could a cultivator of Ye Sheng’s caliber not sense him approaching?

Lu Yan hesitated, thinking at least they were orthodox; Old Devil Ye wouldn’t kill him outright—he chose to speak up respectfully:

“Disciple Lu Yan of Wu Ling Mountain, accidentally strayed here—please forgive this humble one.”

Lu Yan hesitated slightly, reasoning that since they were all aligned with the righteous path, Ye the Old Devil probably wouldn’t strike outright; he thus wisely spoke up first:

On the other side of the fissure, Nan Gongye and Bu Yuehua, hearing the intruder’s self-introduction, turned green.

Wu Ling Mountain was the Daoist sect of Beizhou, roughly equivalent to Zihui Mountain in Daqian—but its sect master was not on the same level.

Lu Yan, as second-in-command of the Zhan Yan Sect, held the same status as Li Chi of Xuanhu Guan; if judged purely by fire cultivation, he was the strongest under the sect master.

He couldn’t defeat Lu Wu, but he could easily crush any other super-class rogue sect cultivator—and handling these three first-class cultivators? He might not need three slaps.

Xie Jinhuan, hearing the name alone, knew this old man was utterly unbeatable—but fortunately, the qi-state he’d cultivated since age three still held, and the overwhelming heavenly power in Phoenix Mausoleum suppressed spiritual perception; the man couldn’t gauge his true depth; he replied calmly:

“Young Master Lu, come here to find opportunities for this humble disciple?”

Lu Yan never imagined he’d ever speak to Ye Sheng; he bowed deeply: “Indeed, I humbly apologize for the intrusion.”

“This opportunity has already been absorbed—but eight li eastward, another awaits. Young Master Lu may take it for yourself.”

Lu Yan had never imagined he’d ever speak to Ye Sheng in this life, and he spoke with extreme humility:

Lu Yan, seeing this southern realm’s legendary sage didn’t harass him—a northern cultivator—couldn’t help sighing inwardly: “No wonder the Sage’s heart treats all beings equally.” He thanked him and hurriedly withdrew.

Nan Gongye and Bu Yuehua both exhaled in relief, their nerves still taut, not daring to show the slightest sign.

Xie Jinhuan also carefully watched the distant movements, ready to leap off the cliff at any moment.

But Lu Yan, surprisingly cautious, took a few steps, then suddenly halted and asked:

“To be honest, I’ve long admired Master Ye; I’ve studied the ‘Ten Questions’ many times, and I’m confused by the seventh chapter...”

Bu Yuehua’s heart tightened—this was bad. Nan Gongye’s pulse raced.

But Xie Jinhuan, though not Ye Sheng’s direct disciple, matched the disciple’s qi-state perfectly; he replied calmly:

“The difficulty of Dao lies in the heart; only when the heart is still as water can one reach Dao’s realm. This chapter isn’t about severing desire—it’s about seeing through. You’re still young, haven’t passed through the Red Dust Trial; when you comprehend ‘Dao follows nature,’ you’ll understand this chapter.”

“Oh... I am deeply instructed!”

Lu Yan, seeing no flaw in this elder, had no further doubts; he hurried away with his disciple.

Xi Yanjun dared not approach the fissure and hadn’t seen Ye Sheng’s face—but just hearing the “Sacred Voice” filled him with a sense of fulfillment; once far away, he quietly exhaled:

“No wonder he’s a Confucian Sage—look at that bearing... Master’s divination before departure said this journey would begin auspiciously, then turn ominous—this must be the auspicious part!”

Seeing that the elder had no opening whatsoever, Lu Yan naturally raised no objection and hurried out with his junior disciple.

Lu Yan signaled silence, intending to rush eastward for the opportunity and leave quickly.

But after walking a stretch along the fissure eastward, he suddenly noticed a new mark on the fissure’s seam.

Dead Gate—This Path Is Closed!

Lu Yan signaled for silence, intending to rush eastward for the opportunity and return as soon as possible.

When Lu Yan came earlier, he’d checked the previous cultivators’ marks—he’d confirmed: Dead Gate meant dead end, absolutely impassable.

Could the fissure have just opened this year...?

Lu Yan hesitated, walked further in—and found himself in a dead end; he switched paths, continued deeper, until half an hour later, he reached the eight-li mark—a fissure in barren rock, utterly empty.

“Master, what’s going on? There’s no opportunity here!”

“A fine ‘Dao follows nature.’”

Lu Yan’s face turned green again; he turned and strode back the way he came:

“Cunning brat—you broke the rules first. Chase them—they won’t get far.”

“A fine ‘Dao follows nature.’”

Lu Yan’s face turned green again; he turned and strode back the way they came:

“Cunning brat, you broke the rules first. Chase them—they won’t get far.”

……

(End of chapter)