Chapter 1532: Kindred Spirits

Nianci Shan rumbled violently, as if on the verge of collapse. Thick killing intent surged through the air, and even the drifting snow came to a halt.

The young nun and the old nun trembled with fear as they hurried over.

From afar, they witnessed a terrifying scene: Wulei Xianzi was being lifted off the ground by Ye Chen, his hand gripping her delicate neck.

"Dao you, you..." The old nun's expression changed drastically.

"Get out." Ye Chen's voice boomed like ancient thunder, shattering the old nun's eardrums and sending her collapsing to the ground.

The young nun was terrified, her face pale as her small body shook uncontrollably. She didn't dare move—Ye Chen was too frightening.

"Answer my question. When will Wulei Zhicheng descend?" Ye Chen's blood-red eyes locked onto Wulei Xianzi like a raging beast.

"I don't know." Wulei Xianzi replied indifferently, her expression cold and devoid of any emotion. As one without tears, she was without feelings, like a puppet unaware of pain.

"What a convenient 'I don't know.'" Ye Chen's eyes flashed with a chilling light as his golden palm erupted with thunderous energy, cold and destructive.

Wulei Xianzi's delicate body was stained with blood, her flesh beginning to shatter. Though both were saints, she had no power to resist.

Ye Chen's killing intent surged—he could end her life in an instant.

"Ye Chen, stop this at once." A female voice suddenly rang out as an extraordinary woman appeared— it was Bei Sheng.

"Get out." Ye Chen snarled coldly, summoning his Quasi-Emperor Sword. With a flip of his hand, he unleashed a strike that cleaved through the galaxy, overwhelmingly dominant.

The mighty Bei Sheng hadn't even gotten close before she was forced back by the sword. Even with her strength, she was no match for Ye Chen.

She gritted her teeth, determined to charge forward and stop him again.

But before she could move, a hand covered in calluses landed on her shoulder, halting her.

Looking at the one who stopped her, it was unmistakably the old man who sold wine in the town at the foot of Nianci Shan.

The old man still wore his thick cotton jacket, looking like a disheveled old fool, his steps unsteady yet mysteriously elusive.

He was incredibly powerful. With a casual wave of his hand, he rescued Wulei Xianzi, and Ye Chen was also restrained by him.

Ye Chen's eyes burned red, his ancient sacred blood boiling, but he couldn't break free from the restraints—his powers were sealed.

"Come with me. She didn't lie to you." The old man's words were gentle as he led Ye Chen away from Nianci Shan.

Bei Sheng wiped the fresh blood from her mouth, gently waving her hand to heal the old nun's hidden injuries. She then erased the young nun's memories before turning to Wulei Xianzi.

Wulei Xianzi's robes were stained with blood, yet her expression remained calm, enveloped in divine light that concealed her wounds.

"Taishang Wangqing—truly domineering." Bei Sheng murmured softly before turning to leave, chasing after Ye Chen.

By now, the old man had brought Ye Chen back to the ancient town, appearing in an ordinary farmhouse courtyard.

"This newly brewed wine will warm you up." The old man, like a kind grandfather, handed over a pot of warm turbid wine.

"Senior, who exactly are you?" Ye Chen gazed quietly at the old man, his blood-red eyes fading as the rage subsided, revealing a trace of clarity.

"Like you, a person burdened by fate." The old man tucked his hands into his sleeves and looked up at the vast sky, his aged face filled with nostalgia. "My wife is also in Wulei Zhicheng."

"Ah."

"Naihe Bridge—it's truly helpless." The old man shook his head with a dry laugh, his expression full of weariness.

Ye Chen fell silent, picking up the wine pot and taking a long gulp. He and the old man were indeed both people of misfortune.

The old man was perhaps a bit luckier than him—he had tried to cross the Naihe Bridge—but Ye Chen hadn't even gotten that chance.

For some reason, Ye Chen felt a surge of anger toward the elusive Wulei Zhicheng. The world was full of emotions, so why must it be tearless, leaving the mortal realm scarred with wounds?

The heavens truly loved to toy with people, granting hope only to make disappointment even more crushing. That invisible hand fiddled with fate so arbitrarily.

The farmhouse courtyard grew quiet, the two of them simply drinking.

At some point, the old man seemed tired. He hugged the wine pot and dozed off, muttering in his sleep—a mighty Quasi-Emperor, yet even he dreamed while sleeping.

Ye Chen drank alone, the turbid wine growing more bitter with each sip, making the world seem all the more desolate and chilling.

As the dark night deepened, he finally rose, swaying unsteadily.

Leaving the town, he stepped onto the vast wilderness, where heavy snow fell, burying the trail of footprints behind him.

He continued on his journey, unsure of his destination, passing through ancient cities and seeking out one reincarnated soul after another.

He was glad to see lovers reunited, helping pair after pair of fated couples.

Yet, after more than two hundred years on this endless path, he remained alone, his figure forlorn and isolated.

Just like that, three months slipped by, and he left the Western Desert.

Under the moonlight, he appeared somewhat aged, his hair already snow-white, wrinkles lining his eyes, his beard long and unkempt, his gaze dim, and his once-straight back now hunched.

He no longer needed a black robe to conceal himself or a ghost mask to hide his face—his elderly, stooped form was the perfect disguise.

Who would suspect that this seemingly decrepit old man was the mighty Sacred Body that could devour mountains and rivers?

It was another peaceful night, the stars shining brightly.

He walked out of an ancient city where there were reincarnated souls—two of them, who had been a couple in their previous lives.

He helped them reunite, offering silent blessings.

But as a breeze blew, he couldn't help but double over, coughing up blood violently, his breath weak and faltering.

His cultivation had fallen from the Saint level to Quasi-Saint.

This night was one worth remembering.

Time ages people, and no one embodied that better than him. Once in the prime of his youth, he was now rapidly declining.

"How long are you going to follow me?" Ye Chen wiped the blood from his mouth, his voice hoarse and dry.

Behind him, space twisted, and an extraordinary woman emerged.

She was Bei Sheng, ethereal under the moonlight, pure and flawless, like a banished immortal from the mortal world.

Since leaving Nianci Shan, she had been trailing Ye Chen all along.

She was the only one who had witnessed firsthand his decline, both in cultivation and lifespan.

She didn't know what had happened to Ye Chen or what story he hid, but seeing the Sacred Body in this state filled her with an inexplicable ache.

Was it the twilight of a hero? Or was time simply too merciless?

"How did you become like this?" Bei Sheng lightly bit her lip, looking at Ye Chen, her heart twinging with pain.

"Have I scared you?" Ye Chen rasped with a smile, perhaps exhausted, as he sat down under an old tree to rest.

"The Sacred Body shouldn't be like this." Bei Sheng stepped forward, gazing at his aged face, his messy white hair fluttering in the wind, and she couldn't help but brush it aside.

"In Bei Sheng's eyes, what should the Sacred Body be like?" Ye Chen pulled out his wine pot, his gaze dull and lifeless.

"A bloodline on par with emperors should soar through the nine heavens." Bei Sheng produced a pill and pressed it into Ye Chen's back—it was a elixir to replenish lifespan.

However, though the pill was potent enough to add a hundred years of life, once it entered Ye Chen's body, it was dissolved by some mysterious force.

Bei Sheng frowned deeply. "Zhou Tian evolution."

"The Jiuli Clan's insight is indeed sharp." Ye Chen smiled. "It's indeed Zhou Tian."

"Who was foolish enough to pass you such a secret technique?" Bei Sheng's face darkened, even turning grave.

"I should thank him for it." Ye Chen hugged his wine pot, lost in nostalgia, not blaming Zhou Yi for hiding it from him back then. With this secret technique, he had indeed found many reincarnated souls—it was a blessing.

"He's a madman, and you're one too."

"So worked up—could it be you've fallen for me?" Ye Chen looked up, eyeing Bei Sheng with interest.

"This old, who would fall for you?" Bei Sheng shot him a fierce glare. "You stripped me naked in the ancient ruins and haven't settled that score yet, and then you slashed me with a sword at Nianci Shan—I've got it all noted."

"Quick on the uptake." Ye Chen wisely drew out Fenji. "I need to defend myself, or I might get wiped out."

"No time for jokes." Bei Sheng was annoyed enough to laugh, then pointed ahead. "That's the Wangu Great River. Cross it, and you'll enter Beiyue territory. Go to Chiyue Gucheng and wait for me—I'll find someone to save you."

With that, Bei Sheng stepped into the void and vanished.

Ye Chen shook his head with a smile, drained the last of his wine, and set off, holding no hope for Bei Sheng's efforts.

Even the Zhutian Sword God was helpless— he couldn't imagine whom Bei Sheng could find to treat him.

Ahead was indeed a great river, its waves roaring majestically, serving as the boundary between the Western Desert and Beiyue.

This was the Wangu Great River, stretching thousands of miles.

There were ancient legends about it, said to have been formed from a drop of blood from an ancient emperor, merging into the earth to become the river, witnessing the world's endless changes.

Ye Chen ascended into the sky, overlooking the Wangu Great River, sensing its ancient aura and immense power.

Crossing the river led to vast lands, heading north.

In less than three days, a small ancient city came into view—an obscure place called Chiyue Gucheng.

The night in Chiyue Gucheng was still bustling, with red lanterns hanging high and shouts of vendors filling the air.

The city had mortals, and street performers drew crowds of cheers. People watched from the balconies on both sides, while the arched bridges over the rivers were the liveliest spots.

Ye Chen activated Zhou Tian but found no reincarnated souls.

He crossed the main street and stopped at a small tavern, waiting for Bei Sheng and curious about whom she would bring.

"Did you hear? The Immortal Clan and Phoenix Clan have both sealed themselves away." At the neighboring table, a sleazy young man was chatting animatedly, drawing a crowd in the tavern.

"I've heard bits. The God Clan and Demon Clan have sealed themselves too—who knows why."

"The Immortal Clan's divine child, Fengxian Princess, God Clan's divine child, and Demon Clan's divine child are all out and about, causing quite a stir lately."

"It's more than a stir—they're downright reckless, stirring up trouble everywhere. Plenty of people have suffered because of it."

"What about the Sacred Body? Why no word? He should deal with them."

"Just wait. He's definitely coming to Beiyue." An old-timer spoke meaningfully. "He's hit the Eastern Wasteland, Central State, Southern Domain, and Western Desert. Next stop is Beiyue."

"Looks like this form of mine is a great disguise." Ye Chen shook his head with a smile, sitting right there without a mask, and yet no one recognized him.

A gentle breeze carried a woman's scent as Bei Sheng arrived, dragging someone with her—a big-bearded old daoist.

Ye Chen was stunned at the sight of the big-bearded old daoist.

Wasn't it his acquaintance, Yan Laodao?

Ye Chen's expression turned odd—he hadn't expected Bei Sheng to bring Yan Laodao.

Yan Laodao was equally dazed. He was midway through a drink when Bei Sheng hauled him over, saying it was to save someone, and it turned out to be Ye Chen.

"From the looks on your faces, it's clear you two know each other." Bei Sheng sat down, watching them with interest.

"We're good buddies." Ye Chen couldn't help but smile.

"The backlash from Zhou Tian has gotten this fierce?" Yan Laodao frowned, his face darkening.

"Save him, and that debt you owe me is settled. No slacking off." Bei Sheng poured herself a drink.

"I really can't save him." Yan Laodao said helplessly.

"Then find your old master. He's the one for this."

"Fuxi Laozu is as elusive as a dragon—how am I supposed to find him?"

"That's your problem. If you can't save him, you're done for."

"Hey!"