Chapter 1635

"That's unnecessary." Ximen Wudi smiled, waving his hand to dismiss it. He and the woman were no kin, and she had gifted him the jade slip merely to repay a debt; to her, it might be trivial, but to him, it was priceless—a transmission talisman could save one's life.

"If you won't take it, I don't care." The woman smiled faintly, slowly retreating into the mist.

"This debt is mine." After the woman left, Ximen Wudi pressed the ancient transmission talisman against his forehead.

Instantly, the talisman hummed and trembled, revealing a message: a secret technique—Transplanting Flowers and Grafting Trees.

Ximen Wudi understood: this secret technique was exceedingly difficult to master—he would need at least ten years to cultivate it. It was a life-saving trump card.

"Elder, please wait."

Suddenly, the woman halted and turned her gaze toward a direction.

Upon that cloud-shrouded mountain peak stood a man in a gray robe—look closely, wasn't that the Primordial Emperor Sovereign?

"You… know me?" Ximen Wudi asked in confusion, thinking to himself: he had never been to Da Chu before; how could this woman recognize him at a glance, and even know he was here?

"Long ago, when you fought the Celestial Powers in Da Chu, I was present," the woman smiled.

"You are…" Ximen Wudi frowned, studying the woman cautiously.

"Wangchuan," the woman said softly. "Do you remember a woman in purple robes, named Ji Ningshuang, who once stood by the Wangchuan River?"

At these words, Ximen Wudi's expression changed instantly. He stared at the woman, fixed. He was no stranger to that woman in purple—because she resembled Ling Feng too closely. He still remembered vividly: Ling Feng's soul still slumbered within that body.

"Who… are you?" After his shock, Ximen Wudi grew wary. His and Ling Feng's homeland was one realm—the Great Xia World. How did this woman know Ji Ningshuang? How did she know of him? Most importantly, he had never seen her before.

"Will you lend me your aid?" The woman smiled at Ximen Wudi.

"Help you? What's in it for me?" Ximen Wudi raised an eyebrow. He had no time to play games with strangers. No matter how dazzling her words, he wouldn't believe them—he needed to know her origins first.

"What do you want?"

"No rush. Let's discuss terms after we leave this universe." Ximen Wudi shrugged and smiled, pulling out his wine flask, taking a sip, then continuing to tease little Ye Fan—the child's laughter was radiant as sunshine.

"Then, farewell." The woman vanished gracefully, leaving only a faint, lingering fragrance.

Ximen Wudi likewise stilled his thoughts and made no move to pursue. In his current state, he couldn't match the woman—and besides, this was Da Chu; she wouldn't dare act recklessly.

"Father, Father, where's Mother?" The child tugged at Ximen Wudi's sleeve, eyes full of hope. "Did you bring Mother back too?"

"Your mother is still in Dong Huang Tai Xin's hands. She is sealed within the Great Cycle Heavenly Tomb."

"Mother, Mother!" The child scrambled up, pulling desperately at Ximen Wudi.

"Don't fuss," Ximen Wudi said sternly. "Wait until Father finds your mother."

"Where's Mother? I'll go find her." The child gripped Ximen Wudi's pant leg tightly. "I'm not afraid of pain. Where's Mother? I'll find her—we'll go home together."

"Good boy, go home first. Your parents will come for you soon. Wait for me," Ximen Wudi bent down, scooping Ye Fan into his arms and squeezing his small body tightly. "Your mother will return soon. Wait for her, all right?"

"Mother…" Ye Fan still clung to Ximen Wudi's pant leg, tears streaming down his face.

"My dear grandson." Ximen Wudi held Ye Fan and stepped slowly down from the void. Before leaving, he glanced around, spreading his spiritual sense across the heavens, searching for that elusive, mystical connection.

But within this vast Ximen Xinghai, he found nothing—not even a trace of that so-called mystical link, which had long since been severed.

Only at night did he return, carrying Ye Fan into slumber, while he sat alone on the rooftop, gazing at the boundless sky.

Beneath the moon, one lay reclining, the other sprawled atop Ximen Wudi. Ye Fan slept peacefully, breathing evenly; Ximen Wudi's expression, however, was deeply lost.

"How can I ever return home?" he murmured softly. "Where exactly is this place?"

Before he knew it, a gentle breeze brushed past. He had just closed his eyes when he was jolted awake—because a graceful figure had manifested beside him.

The visitor was, of course, the woman in purple robes.

She wore a white veil, her aura otherworldly and transcendent, yet unable to conceal the weight of time. Years had carved deep marks upon her—far older than Ximen Wudi had imagined.

"Elder, who are you truly?" Ximen Wudi drew a deep breath, staring intently at the woman. Though her face was veiled, that mysterious aura felt painfully familiar.

"I am the thirty-second guardian of Youming Continent," the woman in purple said softly. "Also known in Da Chu as: Xian Wu Di Jian."

"Imperial Weapon?" Ximen Wudi gasped.

"Imperial artifacts are ranked nine tiers. I am at the peak of the Immortal tier."

"Why have you come here?" Ximen Wudi asked urgently, deeply intrigued. Imperial weapons were immensely powerful; each possessed a heaven-defying bloodline. If fused, they could truly defy heaven.

"To aid you in crossing your tribulation."

"Crossing a tribulation?"

"I know you've touched the barrier of the Pretender Saint-King realm," Xian Wu Di Jian said calmly. "To break through the Emperor's Gate, you must annihilate the Heavenly Tribulation. Only when the tribulation is destroyed can the Emperor's Gate open. The one who endures the tribulation's assault is called the Tribulation-Bearer. This method is cruel—but its effect is brutally effective."

"So that's how it is," Ximen Wudi rubbed his chin. "I thought I'd have to rely on enlightenment?"

"Your enlightenment will naturally summon the tribulation. Though strong, it remains incomplete. But you—the Tribulation-Bearer—can harness its power. Once you endure it, you shall attain the Dao."

Listening to Xian Wu Di Jian, Ximen Wudi's eyes gleamed with sharp light. He understood the Imperial Sword's intent—and how perilous being a Tribulation-Bearer truly was. He had indeed touched the Pretender Saint-King barrier, but that didn't mean he could survive the tribulation. It was ninety-nine layers of Lei Ting.

"Don't underestimate the tribulation. Fail, and you'll be obliterated—body and soul," Xian Wu Di Jian said calmly. "This is the Emperor's Immortal Tribulation—unrelentingly brutal. Were it not for the tribulation, I wouldn't bother warning you."

1415 If you can't endure it, you'll perish and your Dao will vanish

1415 If you can't endure it, you'll perish and your Dao will vanish

"I know," Ximen Wudi nodded. He wasn't foolish. He knew the tribulation's might better than anyone. Survive it, and you become Emperor. Fail, and you perish and your Dao vanishes.

"Do you know when the tribulation will arrive?" Xian Wu Di Jian's lips parted slightly.

"In one day."

"Then seize this chance to break into Pretender Saint-King!" Xian Wu Di Jian said calmly. "I will guard you."

"Thank you, Elder."

"I ask only this: aid my Immortal Clan in reclaiming our origin. I will avenge my clan. This tribulation will be horrific—hope you give your all."

"Naturally."

"Then I depart." Xian Wu Di Jian swept her sleeve and vanished instantly. Before leaving, she cast one last glance at Ximen Wudi—a sly, teasing smile curling her lips. That smile was enigmatic, almost seductive—even Ximen Wudi was momentarily dazed.

Ximen Wudi coughed, shook his head sharply, and leapt into the heavens.

Boom! Crash! Thunderous—

The pitch-black night, lightning flashing and thunder rumbling, dark clouds churning, oppressive and gloomy, like the end of the world, ghastly and cold, as if one could still smell the thick stench of blood.

Looking from afar, that stretch of empty mountain ranges had gained quite a few human figures, each clad in armor and bearing spears, some controlling flying swords, some driving war chariots, some leaping through the void, each standing atop their own mountain peak.

Those were all cultivators from the various heavens, gathered here for half a month already, yet none dared to enter the forbidden zone, all watching from the outer perimeter—perhaps out of fear, but more out of awe.

"Hear about it? That stretch of land was suppressed by the ancient clan for ten thousand years."

"According to the rumors, that lad called Ximen Wudi is a Desolate Ancient Sacred Body."

"A Desolate Ancient Sacred Body! Tsk tsk…."

The chatter was plentiful, a noisy mess, mostly of dread and fear toward the forbidden zone.

Over here, Ximen Wudi stood atop the mountain peak, gazing westward, able to see through the haze in that direction—within the forbidden zone, the might of an Extreme Dao Emperor raged wantonly, inch by inch crushing the void, lending the world a few shades of solemnity.

"Ten thousand years, and your descendant has finally come." The Immortal Emperor Sword spoke leisurely, "In those years, both you and your junior brother were sealed within the forbidden zone—your junior brother was devoured by slaughter, while you were imprisoned beneath the Immortal Execution Platform; your wife and children were tormented to death; your disciples also met with sudden disaster, their bones nowhere to be found."

"You never could have dreamed, even in your dreams, that your descendant would seek his way here. In time, he too will be like you back then—miserably forced to assault the Emperor's Pass."

The Immortal Emperor Sword's voice was calm and indifferent.

It, too, had once been a Quasi-Emperor, had ties with the Great Chu Divine Dynasty, had once taken part in Emperor's Wars, had witnessed too many stories, and had witnessed too many heroes' curtains falling.

Now, it was waiting—waiting for Ximen Wudi to weather the Emperor Tribulation, and waiting for him to prove his Dao and become Emperor; that would be the moment it was freed from its seal, and what it wanted was precisely this day.

Boom!

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shook the nine heavens.

Ximen Wudi raised his eyes to look afar—toward the forbidden zone, lightning tore the azure sky, a bolt of thunder some seven thousand zhang massive split the firmament, stabbing straight into the clouds; in an instant, it lit up that pitch-black night to a blinding white, the scene of that stretch of heaven and earth utterly terrifying.

Then, a resplendent flash of lightning was seen, slicing through the firmament, heading straight for Hengyue Sect.

Ximen Wudi sprang up abruptly, pulled out the Overlord Dragon Blade, and casually stuffed it into his storage bag.

Hum!

The Overlord Dragon Blade's clang was ear-piercing, its spirit intelligence reviving on its own, the blade trembling violently.

1416 A bloodthirsty light swirled around it.

It was a kind of craving—a craving for fresh blood; the bloodthirsty light swirled around it, already urgently needing to drink its fill of blood to aid its revival, to slaughter more enemies, to vent the fury in its heart.

Ximen Wudi frowned—he could read the Overlord Dragon's meaning. This blade, too, was an Emperor Weapon, and an extremely strange one at that; its spirit intelligence was also extraordinarily high, having already given birth to a soul.

Regarding this, Ximen Wudi neither agreed nor disagreed. It was not that he wouldn't release it, but that he didn't know how to release it—if he truly let this fellow out, it might well cause another monstrous bloodbath. He still trusted the Immortal Emperor Sword.

"During the days I'm not here, remember—do not make decisions on your own." The Immortal Emperor Sword spoke leisurely, and with those words, vanished from sight.