Sect Leader Is Under Great Pressure CH 113 That Year, That Month; That Time, That Day
As someone who had survived the treacherous human heart in the Central Continent for hundreds of years, Luo Chi naturally wouldn’t believe that this could really be that person. But the fact that the opponent could see the person he was thinking of most at that moment proved that the phantom's cultivation was exceedingly high. High enough that even with his divine eye, Luo Chi couldn’t detect any sign of illusion.
If he wasn’t busy, Luo Chi wouldn’t have minded getting to know this phantom. But instead, he heightened his vigilance and walked past the figure.
The phantom, who looked exactly like the Kun-Lai Sect Leader's soul fragment, glanced at him mildly, then suddenly reached out, grabbed him, and took a wisp of the ghostly fire from his fingertips.
In that instant, Luo Chi tried at least three escape techniques, but none of them worked, making him even more cautious.
Ji Yunlai gazed at the small flame on his fingertip, and with a slight movement of his eyebrows, his powerful and terrifying divine consciousness instantly deconstructed and replicated the entire incantation. This small flame was extremely intricate, a transparent lotus-shaped lamp that used the surrounding darkness as fuel, continuously feeding the light with his mind as the wick. But maintaining the lamp required a lot of mental energy, which was why Luo Chi only had this single wisp of flame.
However, this expenditure meant nothing to the Lord of Kun-Lai.
Ji Yunlai raised his eyes slightly and with a small gesture of his fingers, the flame suddenly flared up as if doused in oil, exploding with a roar. The light was so bright that Luo Chi almost had to close his eyes—though forcibly closing his eyes in the Central Continent was a deadly mistake for any cultivator, as even a momentary distraction could get them killed a hundred times over.
So, he didn’t close his eyes. Instead, he watched as the firelight illuminated the depths of the Abyss, radiating like the sun for thousands upon thousands of miles before transforming into countless stars, drifting through the vast, dark void.
He had traveled many places, met countless people, and explored uncountable secret realms, yet he was still momentarily stunned by this fleeting brilliance.
Before him, the divine being remained cold and distant, like the sole moon in this starry river, icy and radiant, illuminating his long-dormant heart.
In just that brief moment, Ji Yunlai showed him the most beautiful fireworks in the world.
Yet despite the closeness, even in this starry river, it still felt impossibly far away.
Luo Chi was momentarily dazed.
Suddenly, the divine being before him nodded slightly, returning the flame to his fingertips, then turned and disappeared into the void.
Except for the floating starlight around him, everything seemed like a dream.
After a long while, Luo Chi let out a bitter laugh and lowered his hand.
Can I think that you came all this way just to flirt with me?
***
Ji Yunlai burned away the ghostly haze for miles around, allowing the starlight to expand. With the oppressive power now released, his divine consciousness finally spread out without restraint, solving the problem of locating his Dao Seed.
This barren wasteland was only the entrance. A few dozen miles west, there was a small river, and the direction of its flow matched the place where he felt his Dao Seed was.
Why had he left something so important here?
Ji Yunlai thought he had been far too willful in his younger days. If he could do it over, he would at least leave some explanation.
This place was strange. This time, Ji Yunlai didn’t travel by air but instead followed the damp ground, appearing a few miles away with each step. In just a few breaths, he arrived at the riverbank.
The river water was murky, only waist-deep, and teeming with strange, ghostly creatures. On the banks, sedge grass grew alongside white-petaled water lilies, rising and falling with the current.
The river was long, with no end in sight. The opposite bank was shrouded in complete darkness, so much so that even his divine consciousness couldn’t reach across.
From far away, there seemed to be the sound of singing—as if someone was poling a boat slowly toward him.
“On both sides grows waterweed,
swaying with the flow,
The fair maiden, in sleep I seek.
I seek her but cannot find her,
In waking, I long for her, tossing and turning.”
Though the voice was soft and feminine, its source was indiscernible, seeming to come from all directions at once.
Ji Yunlai remained silent for a moment, then raised his hand. In his palm appeared a tiny faceless figure dressed in white, trembling with fear. He glanced again at the riverboat, but the figure on board had disappeared.
“I don’t like wasting time. Either I kill you, or you answer me: where does this river lead?” Ji Yunlai asked the ghost in his hand coldly.
“Who are you...?” the ghost quivered and stammered.
Ji Yunlai didn’t respond, but simply closed his fingers slightly...
“The Ghost Realm!” the ghost said hastily.
Ji Yunlai’s fingers stopped just short of crushing him, and the ghost nearly wept.
Ji Yunlai said nothing, only gazing at him calmly.
Under that soul-piercing gaze, the ghost quickly spilled everything he knew, in a jumble of half-formed thoughts. He was just a native spirit, born and raised here, only aware that crossing the river was forbidden. Those who went never returned. Downstream, there was a Wu tribe, and farther still, after thousands of miles, there was a bottomless waterfall, from which no one could return.
The boat was an illusion; occasionally, spirit demons or other creatures would wander through and be devoured by them. Their souls would be dragged into the river, and no one knew where they went. There were many powerful ghosts here, each ruling their own territory, never interfering with each other.
If anything had been out of the ordinary, it was that a powerful figure had passed through a century ago, heading toward the Wu tribe.
He didn’t know much more beyond that. Other than hearing about some ghost that accidentally climbed the cliff and never returned, he was told that the place was vast and beautiful, and that the fish in the river liked to devour residual souls, or that a new demonic aura had emerged somewhere.
Ji Yunlai listened silently until the other had nothing more to say, then he casually flung him away and turned to head downstream.
The land of this particular Wu tribe, that should be it.
He followed the river downstream, and all the ghosts along the way sensibly avoided him. Soon, he saw a primitive settlement. The roofs were still round, and the people wore grass-woven skirts, looking no different from humans, except for the many different things hanging from their ears—some had live snakes, some had multi-armed ghosts, and some had centipedes.
There weren’t many people, only about a dozen, but there were plenty of houses, enough to accommodate hundreds.
His Dao Seed was not far away, floating openly in the air, placed on something resembling an altar. From time to time, a Wu clansman came out, holding dried meat or fruits, looking satisfied.
Ji Yunlai slowly walked in. The Dao Seed faintly glowed, as if welcoming his arrival. He felt a familiar yet reluctant feeling.
Ji Yunlai walked inside.
It was an illusory sea of clouds, and he saw himself sitting quietly in the void. Opposite him was a shadowy figure, both familiar and elusive.
"How dare they hurt you!" The shadow seethed with anger. "Each and every one of them should be fed to the Celestial Demons!"
"They’ve been plotting this for a long time. It was my negligence; I arrived too late. Qingdi Peak suffered a heavy blow, and the disciples were also injured… This time, they only acted to lure me out, using a strategy of feigned retreat…" The Xing Dao Master’s expression was cold. "First, they blinded the heavenly divinations and ambushed the expedition team. Then, three Human Immortals and two Great Sages launched an attack. If not for you, Kun-Lai would have been in great danger this time."
"Of course. I could release billions of Celestial Demons to perish together with them. I don’t fear their numbers. But why did you place the Dao Seed in the Witchlands? Taking it out will harm you," the shadow said, concerned.
"It has nothing to do with you," the Xing Dao Master in the void replied flatly, holding a Dao Seed in his hand.
"I know, it’s because of the Celestial Demons I released, right?" The shadow circled around him a few times. "I didn’t let those Celestial Demons run loose to harm others. I kept them by my side. You know that once we leave the Celestial Demon Domain, it's hard to return. You could’ve used them directly to temper your sword."
The Xing Dao Master looked up at the shadow and explained, "Releasing billions of Celestial Demons may have been a strategy to repel the enemy, but if I didn’t put them in the Dao Seed, masking them with the Nine Abyss' malevolent energy, it would surely bring down a great calamity. The consequences would be severe, so I must take responsibility."
"You're still not healed, how will you take responsibility? The Heavenly Order only knows to cause trouble now, where was it when you were fighting against five enemies alone?" The shadow’s heart ached for him. "Two monsters from the Yuntian Domain, along with three major sect Human Immortals… I told you to release me sooner."
"This matter is not to be mentioned again. You are the Great Celestial Demon Lord," the Xing Dao Master coldly responded, but seeing the shadow's aggrieved expression, he softened his tone. "Celestial Demons are inherently evil. It's only natural for the Heavenly Order to destroy them. Releasing you would bring a great disaster to the world!"
"You know full well that even if you wanted me to die, I’d be the first to willingly sacrifice myself," the shadow said sadly. "Forget it. This time, they retreated in fear of you releasing me. Let’s leave it at that for now. I’ll handle the consciousness of those Celestial Demons. Don’t take the Dao Seed out; it’ll damage your foundation. They only have instincts, no awareness."
After a long silence, the Xing Dao Master slowly called out to him, "Qing."
"Hmm?" the shadow responded.
"Having just you is enough," he said gently.
The shadow immediately became elated and swooped down to kiss his face.
Seeing that the Xing Dao Master didn’t resist, the shadow kissed him for a long time before being lightly pushed away with a, "Don’t mess around."
"The world of the Dao Seed has been edited. The Celestial Demons will have self-awareness as long as their demonic intent are extracted. Let them reincarnate within this world," the Xing Dao Master said softly. "What I’m doing… isn’t much different from what Celestial Demons do."
"It’s different. I’m willing to be devoured by you," Qing suddenly lifted his head. "And now that you’ve released the Dao Seed, we’ll only have the Sealed Demon Hall left to play in."
The Xing Dao Master said flatly, "The Sealed Demon Hall is big enough, isn’t it?"
"It’s not the same," Qing blushed slightly. "In the Dao Seed, we could be under the sun…"
The Xing Dao Master glanced at him. "Then let’s go in one more time."
He got up and walked away.
The void shifted, and Ji Yunlai soon found himself standing in a green, rolling field, with soft breezes and warm sunlight. Crickets chirped in the grass.
Qing and the Xing Dao Master had disappeared.
So, were those just the final memories of the Dao Seed?
As he pondered this, Ji Yunlai stood in the field and caught a tear that had unknowingly fallen from his eye.
Feeling the crushed droplet between his fingertips, he murmured thoughtfully, softly calling out the name.
"Qing…"