Chapter 411

“Big sister!”

“Hanyan, Father, Mother!”

Border of Lingzhou, Yipin City.

Lu Qingqiu was helplessly scanning the surroundings when suddenly she heard distant shouts; turning her head, she saw Lu Hanyan, pale-faced, along with her exhausted parents, and tears instantly surged in her eyes.

After the Descendant Clan revived, the three northern states were immediately seized; all humans panicked and fled southward, cramming this small city to the point of being packed shoulder to shoulder.

Lu Qingqiu pushed through the crowd with all her strength and finally saw her long-missed family; she choked up, unable to speak.

She was a disciple of the Office of Management and had been at the Sacred Ground of the Ancients when the disaster struck, evacuating with the main force.

Her sister trained at the Sacred Ground of the Ancients, while her parents were temporarily staying in Shengjing; along this journey, she had constantly worried about them.

Only when she saw her family again did she finally feel the relief of having survived disaster.

Here, she not only saw her parents, sister, and clan members, but also the long-absent Princess Changle, and countless scions of noble families.

Princess Changle was equally disheveled; upon seeing Lu Qingqiu’s gaze, she couldn’t help but glance at her.

Lu Qingqiu did not speak to her, but turned to her sister and asked with concern: “How did you escape here?”

“Master You used the Heavenly Book to hold the rear in Shengjing, while the two Hall Masters led the way forward—we barely escaped, but many senior and junior disciples died, including Cong Yi…”

Lu Hanyan spoke, her face pale, her expression filled with grief.

Cong Yi was the daughter of the Governor of Guiyun County, a disciple from Fengzhou at the Heavenly Book Academy; because Lu Hanyan’s feelings for Ji You had drawn her close to these Fengzhou disciples, she naturally grieved their deaths.

After hearing this, Lu Qingqiu pressed her lips together: “Mine was much the same. Zhongzhou was too close to the Sacred Ground of the Ancients; only three from the He family escaped, and the Sheng, Fang, Guo of Qingzhou, and Tao families all perished.”

“Why did the Descendant Clan suddenly revive? Weren’t they long dead in the Primordial Age?”

“It must be connected to the Sacred Ground of the Ancients—perhaps even to those ruins.”

Lu Qingqiu answered softly, her eyes heavy.

Along this journey, she had heard countless rumors, and combined with the anomalies at the Sacred Ground of the Ancients, she could clearly sense a connection.

Lu Hanyan understood only partially, but did not press further; instead, she kept shifting her gaze, searching everywhere.

She soon spotted the Heavenly Book Academy group that had gone to the Sacred Ground, but after searching repeatedly, she found no trace of Wen Zhengxin—or Cao Jingsong or Ban Yangshu—and her expression grew pale again.

“Where’s Sister Zhengxin? And… Master Cao and the others?”

“They’re fine, but still at the southern border of Liangzhou; they haven’t returned.”

“Why haven’t they come back?”

“The Junior Mirror Master of Lingjian Mountain has gone missing…”

As time passed, the city grew ever more crowded, and news of deaths from separated families spread relentlessly.

One moment they heard a family was gone, the next another—add to that the constant wailing and sobbing everywhere, and it became unbearable.

In the spring of Taiyuan Year Seven, the Descendant Clan revived; humanity suffered a crushing defeat.

Meanwhile, in a villa on the western side of Yipin City’s prefectural seat.

You Yingqiu, Lu Fengchuan, Fei She, and Zuoqiu Yang, together with Chai Hu, met after returning from Shengjing; they spoke in solemn silence, their expressions unrelaxed.

“There… are two Heavenly Ways?”

“Yes. After completing my Heavenly Mechanism Art and opening my eyes, I saw two Heavenly Ways—one feeble, nearly dead; the other wild and swaying like the night.”

You Yingqiu looked up at the heavens: “Ancient scrolls record that when the Descendant Clan’s Holy Emperor tried to assimilate the Heavenly Way, the heavens grew furious and sent down sacred artifacts—but I believe it wasn’t that simple. The Descendant Clan’s Holy Emperor succeeded. The one that sent down the artifact was the new Heavenly Way, and… I sensed my Master’s aura within the new Heavenly Way.”

Zuoqiu Yang’s eyes widened: “My Master didn’t ascend?!”

“The new Heavenly Way is dying, so I believe my Master has been sustaining the heavens all along. The last time the thousand-year clans conspired was his final act—he alone mended the sky, which is why no celestial light came to guide him…”

“How could this be?”

Zuoqiu Yang’s face turned pale; he muttered involuntarily.

He had always believed his Master had ascended to immortality; he never imagined his Master had sacrificed himself to preserve the heavens. His first thought was disbelief.

But soon he remembered how, after his Master’s ascension, rivers dried up and earthquakes vanished instantly; he clenched his fists.

For so many years, everyone had thought the Heavenly Book Academy’s Headmaster was irresponsible—neglecting sect affairs, ignoring disciples.

His five direct disciples, including You Yingqiu, had all harbored endless resentment toward him—yet none knew his Master had been protecting Qingyun in his own way.

After a long silence, Lu Fengchuan spoke: “If the Primordial Heavenly Way has already been assimilated by the Descendant Clan, why has it returned to the heavens?”

“The Heavenly Mechanism Art cultivates harmony with the Heavenly Way. When I reached its peak, I gained the Heavenly Way’s perspective—and the moment I opened my eyes, I felt the Descendant Clan’s Heavenly Way filled with a ravenous, devouring malice.”

“So you mean… it intends to devour the new Heavenly Way?” Zuoqiu Yang’s gaze sharpened.

You Yingqiu nodded: “Yes. I believe the Heavenly Way the Descendant Clan’s Holy Emperor assimilated was incomplete—he needs the new Heavenly Way to replenish it, then reforge it.”

Chai Hu’s eyelids trembled violently: “What then?”

“The Descendant Clan’s Holy Emperor will become the strongest Heavenly Way—an eternal, omnipotent being whose word becomes law.”

“We still have sacred artifacts—surely there’s still a chance?”

Before You Yingqiu could speak, Zuoqiu Yang turned to Chai Hu: “The sacred artifacts are incomplete. The one from Xuan Yuan Immortal Mansion still has no wielder—and Ling Jian…”

You Yingqiu looked up: “Isn’t Ling Jian in the hands of the Junior Mirror Master?”

“The Junior Mirror Master held the rear for the disciples at the Sacred Ground of the Ancients—and never emerged again.”

“I heard she was already in Divine Travel before entering the Sacred Ground, and with a sacred artifact, she shouldn’t have been in danger.”

“But she was pregnant,” Zuoqiu Yang looked at his sister. “Cao Jingsong said the Junior Mirror Master of Lingjian Mountain is nine months along—her body has been extremely weak.”

You Yingqiu’s lips twitched: “Ji You really is formidable—he made the Junior Mirror Master willingly bear his child…”

At that moment, footsteps sounded outside the door.

Qin Rong stepped into the courtyard: “Lord Zuoqiu, Elder Cao has returned.”

“Returned?”

“Yes. Also, the Junior Mirror Master of Lingjian Mountain has returned to the mountain.”

On Lingjian Mountain’s Flying Immortal Platform, countless Lingjian disciples gathered, gazing upward as the ethereal figure descended onto Xuan Jian Peak.

Since the returning disciples claimed the Mirror Master was missing, they had been anxious—even the disciples of Tian Jian Peak, for the Mirror Master’s disappearance meant the loss of Ling Jian.

Now that the Descendant Clan had revived, without the protection of sacred artifacts, their final fate could only be becoming blood food.

So when they saw the Mirror Master return, their hearts finally settled.

But though she had returned, the disciples still harbored doubts.

Their Mirror Master had already reached Divine Travel and carried a sacred artifact—why had her journey to the Sacred Ground of the Ancients been so perilous?

The same doubts echoed in the hearts of Yan Jingxiang, the Master of Xuan Jian Peak, his wife, and countless members of the main lineage of Xuan Jian Peak.

They all sensed the Junior Mirror Master’s aura, so they levitated into the air and arrived at Yun Ding Heaven Palace.

The moment Yan Jingxiang landed, his gaze froze.

His daughter stood before the palace gates, pale-faced, cradling a swaddled infant in her arms; everyone else was equally stunned.

Including Headmaster Yan Zhong, who had arrived upon hearing the news, and Yan Tai, Master of Tian Jian Peak.

They never imagined their lofty Mirror Master would appear before them in such a manner.

“You…”

“Call her Ji Si.”

Yan Shuyi looked at her father: “It’s a girl. Her name is Ji Si.”

Qingyun had no noble family named Ji, so Ji was rare—but everyone knew there had once been a non-noble who bore the Ji surname, and his illicit affair with the Junior Mirror Master of Lingjian Mountain had sparked long debate.

Now, the Junior Mirror Master held a baby girl named Ji Si—the implication was unmistakable.

The Junior Mirror Master of Lingjian Mountain had given birth to a daughter—Ji You’s child.

Hearing this, Yan Jingxiang’s palm trembled slightly inside his sleeve.

Last autumn, that Ji man had died attempting to break through his realm; at the time, Yan Jingxiang had truly sighed in relief.

His daughter was stubborn—once she decided something, no one could change it. But Ji You’s death was something even she couldn’t alter.

Lingjian Mountain needed succession; his daughter needed bloodline continuity. He had assumed everything would return to normal, even planning to speak with her at length after her return.

But what puzzled him was that upon returning, she had seen no one, immediately entered seclusion, and announced she would break through to Divine Travel.

Yan Jingxiang had not sensed anything amiss then—even felt some relief.

Since Ji You had just died and his daughter had redirected her focus, showing no grief and resuming cultivation, he believed her attachment to that rustic cultivator had been shallow.

But now he realized: her half-year seclusion had been to carry the child.

Whether their bond had been deep or not, he didn’t know—but he knew she had felt no grief, never spoken of it, yet quietly bore his daughter.

Most crucially, before the Tian Jian Peak disciples, she declared her daughter’s surname was Ji.

“Ji Si… interesting…”