Chapter 327: I Want the Entire Qingyun

At the border between Youzhou and Yunzhou, the northern peak of Xuanyuan Immortal Mountain.

The Elders in the Elder Pavilion were summoned, flew through the air, and led their disciples down the mountain to confront the zombie tide, guiding their respective clan members into the grand formation.

As they passed by a white jade palace on the southern peak, they saw a figure standing atop a high cliff.

He was a man clad in purple robes, wearing a purple immortal crown, his face as flawless as jade, lips as if painted with vermilion, standing with hands clasped behind his back, gazing silently at all that unfolded beyond the mountain, focused and entranced.

At that moment, the mountain wind howled fiercely, yet an obscure dark aura subtly surrounded him, so his robes remained perfectly flat, undisturbed by the gale.

The only thing moving was a white jade signet ring, gently spun between his fingers.

"It's Saint Son Chu, hasn't he been rarely seen since returning from the Immortal Gathering?"

"There won't be any Saint Son Chu anymore."

"?"

"You don't know?"

"I was in seclusion and only just emerged recently—what's happened in the mansion?"

"This Immortal Gathering was led by Third Young Master; he personally paid respects to the other five Immortal Sects. Now the whole mansion is talking—Master is planning to pass the heir position to Zhong Chen, and our outsider Saint Son is likely about to leave the mountain."

"No wonder I've seen Third Young Master constantly moving through the mansion lately, giving orders to the Elder Pavilion."

"Hey, don't say that lightly—if it gets out, you'll be dead."

During their flight through the air, the figure on the cliff sparked murmurs among the Xuanyuan Immortal Mansion disciples.

Hearing this, several Zhong elders from Xuanyuan Immortal Mansion exchanged glances.

They had known from the start that Chu Xian was never qualified to inherit the Xuanyuan Pearl.

That was the sect's foundation, the basis of the Zhong family's dominion over the world—how could it ever be passed to someone else?

But none of the younger generation of the Zhong family possessed high cultivation talent; to maintain stability within the mansion and prevent open or covert bloodline struggles over the heir position—threatening the sect's foundation—the Master had appointed Chu Xian as heir.

One must admit, the Master's vision was sharp indeed.

Chu Xian possessed extraordinary talent, a firm hand, yet never boasted or acted arrogantly.

He was quiet, deeply reserved, fair in rewards and punishments; as an outsider, he held the position of heir and kept the mansion in peace—that was ability.

In the eyes of countless cultivators across Qingyun, aside from the equally fearsome Xiao Jian Master of Lingjian Mountain, Chu Xian ranked among the top three in overall capability among all sect heirs.

His existence as an outsider heir not only stabilized the mansion but also drove the younger Zhong family members to suppress their resentment, spending years in seclusion, cultivating diligently.

After all, anyone who learns that their family's power is being stolen will find a fierce drive within them.

Thus, for all these years, Chu Xian had rendered immense service to the Xuanyuan Immortal Mansion.

Not only other outsider elders, but even their own Zhong family elders held deep admiration for him.

Yet when power shifted, everything reverted to its original state.

The main Zhong family had long feared the Chu family might rebel and leave Xuanyuan Immortal Mansion—but they never expected Chu Xian to show no emotion, continuing to treat others exactly as before.

Faced with such unwavering loyalty, even the most conservative Zhong elders had nothing to say, only regretting bitterly that he wasn't born a Zhong.

As they pondered, the elders and disciples of Xuanyuan Immortal Mansion descended the mountain in a roar, gripping divine light as they charged toward the zombie tide below.

Soon after they left the formation, a woman walked slowly into the Heir's White Jade Palace on the southern peak.

Her black hair was coiled into a hanging bun, adorned with a gold phoenix hairpin set with pearls; over her pale moon-colored ruqun she wore a crimson half-jacket embroidered with scrolling peony patterns, her silver-clay shawl swaying gently with each step—a true beauty.

The woman was Zhong Wan'er, the youngest daughter of Master Zhong Li and his concubine.

When the Saint Son position was established, she was ordered to marry Chu Xian as his wife.

"Husband, Third Brother has come—he's waiting for you in the palace."

Zhong Wan'er spoke softly, her hand gently resting on her abdomen, clearly swollen with child.

Chu Xian replied quietly: "Some say Qingyun's history is a tale of myriad races cultivating, others say it's the resurgence of humanity—which do you think is more accurate?"

"Both are fitting. Whether cultivation or humanity's resurgence, both have run through a thousand years of history. Why do you ask?"

"I feel neither description is quite right."

Zhong Wan'er looked at him, puzzled: "Then what description would be fitting?"

Chu Xian gazed at the endless tide of zombies and spoke softly: "I believe Qingyun's history is a history of greed."

"Greed?"

"In every age, among every race, by every person—driven by greed: for the Dao, for immortal fortune, for longevity, for power—never ceasing."

"?"

"The Lost Clan was destroyed by Heaven's Law because of greed; the Great Xia became a tool of the Immortal Sects because of greed; the noble youths were refined by the Zheng family's ancestor because of greed—all recorded in history. Yet when you beckon them, they rush forward again, as if they'd forgotten every lesson."

A flicker of worry crossed Zhong Wan'er's eyes; she instinctively placed her hand on her husband's arm.

She didn't know why he uttered such a lament—after thinking it over, she assumed it was the mansion's gossip about the heir position that had stirred resentment in him.

Chu Xian smiled faintly, then stepped toward the White Jade Palace.

Inside the palace's grand hall, Zhong Chen sat on a chair; upon seeing Chu Xian, he revealed a trace of revulsion.

Among the Zhong family youths, Chu Xian had another nickname: "Thief of the Family"—revulsion was natural.

Especially after rumors spread that he would inherit the Sacred Artifact, Chu Xian had offered several women from his Chu family—though perfectly suited to Zhong Chen's tastes, they only deepened his loathing.

Yet before his sister, Zhong Chen concealed this revulsion.

"Third Brother."

"Wan'er, you're pregnant—don't stand too long. Go rest. I need to speak with your husband."

Zhong Wan'er glanced at Chu Xian and said: "Husband has been exhausted from managing sect affairs these past days. Third Brother, don't keep him talking too late."

Zhong Chen nodded: "I understand."

"Then I'll take my leave."

"Go."

After Zhong Chen's reply, he turned to Chu Xian: "You've returned from the Immortal Gathering for many days—why haven't you come to pay your respects?"

Zhong Wan'er was walking toward the inner chambers, her brow slightly furrowed.

Ever since rumors spread that Third Young Master Zhong would inherit the Sacred Artifact, many had distanced themselves from this White Jade Palace.

So her husband had little to do—his so-called exhaustion was merely a lie.

She said this because Third Brother had always had a bad temper, and now that he held power, he'd grown even worse—she feared he might overstep.

She gently removed her outer robe, gazing at her swollen belly, a warm smile appearing.

Yet just as she lay on the bed, preparing to sleep, she suddenly heard a faint cracking sound.

Had a porcelain cup been knocked over?

She half-raised herself, listening for a long while—heard no further sound. She reasoned that since her husband was outside the hall, nothing could be wrong, and closed her eyes gently.

Inside the Heir's White Jade Palace hall, a dark aura barrier flickered violently.

It was a sound-dampening technique—not highly advanced, merely suppressing air flow with spiritual energy.

Within this array, Zhong Chen, his arm broken, stared in terror as Chu Xian gripped his throat and lifted him off the ground: "Chu Xian, you thief! How dare you disrespect me—do you want to die?!"

Chu Xian watched him silently: "When I see someone stupid to the extreme, I can't help but feel murderous—wondering why Heaven allows such people to exist."

"You want to kill me? Chu Xian, you know—if you kill me, my father will never let you live!"

"Why wouldn't he let me live?"

"Father has already chosen me to inherit the Sacred Artifact! How dare you kill his heir?!"

Chu Xian said nothing, but a streak of divine light shot from his third eye—CRACK—snapping Zhong Chen's shoulder bone.

Agonizing pain tore a piercing, shrill scream from Zhong Chen, filling the entire hall.

This Third Young Master of Xuanyuan couldn't believe it—he dared?

He was the next Master of Xuanyuan! How could Chu Xian, a mere outsider, dare such insolence?

"You want the Sacred Artifact! You resent me for taking your place! My Zhong family was right—you've always harbored murderous intent!"

"I said—I'm killing you because you're too stupid."

Zhong Chen clutched his shoulder in terror: "You only want the Xuanyuan Pearl! Fine—I'll give it to you! After I ascend, I'll abdicate the throne and the Sacred Artifact to you! Chu Xian, killing me now benefits you nothing!"

Chu Xian tightened his grip, his nails sinking into Zhong Chen's neck: "You won't become heir. You won't inherit the Sacred Artifact."

"Father has already declared me heir—I swear it before Heaven's Law!"

"You still don't understand."

Chu Xian flung him onto the white jade floor, picked up the teacup, and drank: "You were never the one he chose."

Zhong Chen scrambled backward, clutching his aching arm: "Are you mad? Wan'er! Wan'er!"

"I'm telling the truth—he chose your eighth brother, Zhong Qi. You? He sent you here to be killed. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left you not even a thread of protective qi to guard your heart."

"Lies!"

Chu Xian finished his tea and stepped before him: "Think—why, among your twenty-six brothers, is your cultivation the lowest? Yet he made everyone believe you were the heir. Doesn't that strike you as strange?"

Zhong Chen narrowed his eyes: "Father values my ability. Besides, with abundant relics and Dao fruits now, raising my cultivation isn't hard."

"No—he did it because you're the worst-tempered of all your brothers."

"What are you babbling about…"

"He thought if he didn't give you the Sacred Artifact, I'd harbor resentment—I'm from the Chu family, which holds half of Xuanyuan Immortal Mansion. He didn't want us to turn against him, yet still needed me to serve the sect—so he pushed you, the hothead, before me, to provoke me."

Chu Xian stared at him: "He knew your arrogance would make me unable to resist killing you."

Zhong Chen stared at him in terror: "Stop talking nonsense—what benefit would my father gain from this…?"

"Think carefully. If you're clever enough, I might leave you one breath."

"Chu Xian, calm down! I promise—I'll find a way to abdicate to you after I ascend!"

A flicker of disappointment passed through Chu Xian's eyes; he punched Zhong Chen's thigh.

A piercing scream echoed with the sound of snapping bone; Zhong Chen's eyes bulged, his crown cracking against the pillar as he threw his head back.

At this moment, he looked down at his lower body and saw his right leg had bent unnaturally forward at the knee, broken bone shards piercing through his skin and silk trousers as blood gushed continuously.

"After I kill you, the entire Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion will pursue me—especially your Zhong family's main line, who will be enraged beyond measure."

"I was captured by the Immortal Palace and thought I was surely dead, but he did not rage; instead, he forgave me, saying you should not have treated me this way, that he had failed in his discipline."

"I was stunned by his mercy, and suddenly filled with remorse—I swore right then and there to devote my life to the Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion. He then naturally arranged for Zhong Qi to take charge of the Sacred Artifact. A century later, Zhong Qi ascended to leadership, and I served as Deputy Abbot in support—all was joyous."

"Do you understand? You're merely an expendable pawn, a shield for your virtuous younger brother. He has many sons; losing one means nothing."

Chu Xian seemed deaf to his screams, speaking as if alone.

At this moment, although Zhong Chen's face remained twisted in agony, his screams ceased—only his nostrils expelled rapid, heavy breaths.

In truth, he had once wondered why his father chose him.

For he knew well that, in both cultivation base and scholarly knowledge, he ranked nowhere among his many brothers.

Chu Xian smiled lightly at him: "Your old dog is cunning in planning and skilled at manipulating hearts—but perhaps he never guessed that what I wanted was never that broken pearl."

Zhong Chen spoke in a trembling voice: "What is it you truly want?"

"I want all of Qingyun. The grand scheme I've planned for decades has now begun—no one can stop me anymore."

"The demonic seed—you're the one who created it!"

Zhong Chen did not know why, but suddenly, as if a string inside his mind had been plucked, a possibility flashed into his thoughts.

But the moment he spoke those words, he could say no more—Chu Xian struck with a palm, shattering his skull, while a surge of immortal light exploded and crushed his spiritual soul.

Intelligence that comes too late is no intelligence at all. Chu Xian watched the mingled spray of blood and shattered brain matter, and spoke coldly.

Yet at that very moment, a soft call of "husband" suddenly rose from behind.