Chapter 1811

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Ye Chen was finally invited inside. Black lines crisscrossed his forehead, his face unusually dark. No matter how carefully he had planned, he never anticipated that Gu San Tong and Wu Ya Dao Ren would possess Emperor Weapons. Even more unexpectedly, those two scoundrels, after making a fortune, left him standing awkwardly at the door.

Gu San Tong stroked his beard and said earnestly, "Don't worry about those details." A faint trace of Emperor's might still lingered in his body, overwhelming those with weaker cultivation and forcing them to their knees.

Ye Chen subtly activated his Reincarnation Eye and fixed his gaze on the man. At a glance, he saw through to the half-broken bronze mirror inside Gu San Tong's body, engraved with intricate Emperor Dao divine patterns. The bronze mirror was extraordinary, ancient and weathered, radiating Emperor's might. If one listened closely, echoes of the Great Dao heavenly sounds could be heard. This probing caused even his Reincarnation Eye to sting with pain.

Shifting his focus, he glanced at Wu Ya and discovered a similar half-broken bronze mirror within him, identical to Gu San Tong's. Even if the two pieces were joined, they wouldn't form a complete whole.

"Interesting," Ye Chen murmured, stroking his chin.

"Interesting," Long Yi and Long Wu echoed, also eyeing Gu San Tong and Wu Ya while stroking their chins, their expressions puzzled.

"Long Di has extensive knowledge of Emperor Artifacts—can you tell which Great Emperor's this bronze mirror belongs to?" Ye Chen asked via divine sense.

"Never heard of it," they both shook their heads, their faces strange. "Long Di's memories contain no record of this Emperor Weapon."

Ye Chen raised an eyebrow but felt no surprise. In the past, the Supreme Dao Emperor Weapon, the Jade Ruyi, inside Chu Xuan's body, was also unknown to them—yet it clearly existed. Beyond that, there were the Supreme Dao Emperor Weapons of the Five Forbidden Zones. Evidently, the heavens' Emperor Artifacts weren't limited to the 130 Great Emperors of Xuan Huang—there were others.

"Are there Great Emperors beyond the 130 of Xuan Huang in the heavens?" Ye Chen muttered to himself, the idea seeming quite plausible.

"Come on, tell me how you managed to survive," Gu San Tong poked Ye Chen, grinning smugly.

"You first tell me where you got that broken Emperor Weapon," Ye Chen replied with a smirk, determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Speaking of this broken Emperor Weapon, that's a long story," Gu San Tong said, pulling out his pipe and taking a puff, exhaling deep smoke rings as he launched into his tall tale. "It was a stormy night, and as we were walking along, we saw an Emperor Weapon fall from the sky."

"This explanation is flawless," Ye Chen said, glancing at Gu San Tong and suppressing the urge to punch him.

"I've finished my story—now it's your turn," Gu San Tong said.

"Same as you two—I was sleeping and then woke up," Ye Chen shrugged. If they wanted to BS, he'd play along!

"At first listen, your story doesn't seem off either," Gu San Tong remarked, puffing on his pipe again. "Anyway, it's free, so drink up—don't skimp on Heng Yue's expenses."

"Finally caught someone treating us—been waiting for this meal."

As the two bantered, shouts and yells erupted from all directions, with people jumping around energetically. Ye Chen didn't even need to look to know it was Wu San Pao and Tai Er causing the ruckus. A group of younger troublemakers joined in, making a racket. Those scoundrels were dead set on bankrupting Heng Yue. The Heng Yue elders' faces darkened—these guests were anything but polite, helping themselves to drinks and even sneaking some away.

"You idiot, you stepped on my foot—go get yourself reborn!"

"Who groped my butt? Are you tired of living?"

"What the hell, where's my money pouch? Stealing from me?"

The scene descended into chaos, with howls and curses flying everywhere, the noise blending into a cacophony louder than a marketplace. The people of Da Chu were just like that—rowdy as bandits.

"How about we take this outside for a drink?" Xiong Er rubbed his nose, twisting and turning in the crowd. The place was so packed, and he was so bulky, he felt like he was being squished into a meat patty.

"That does sound appealing," Situ Nan said with a tsk. "There's so much space outside, yet everyone's crammed in here to drink."

"The more crowded, the merrier," Xie Yun was the most lively, weaving through the crowd and heading straight for where the beauties were, his hands wandering as he went. This drew Mu Wan Qing chasing and hitting him all the way—pure mayhem.

"Such vitality warms my heart," Ye Chen said meaningfully. They were all people he'd brought along, and he felt a sense of accomplishment. Indeed, Da Chu was full of eccentrics, a real gathering of talents. For instance, Dao Zhi, wherever he went, left a trail of missing money and treasures—his title as the Saint of Thieves wasn't for nothing. Or Xie Yun, who groped anything attractive, regardless of age or status. Ye Chen could see it clearly: Putting all these characters together guaranteed excitement—and trouble.

The new generation pushes the old, and Da Chu's fierce spirit grows stronger with each one, full of energy.

"Will the sovereign of Da Chu honor us with a drink?" The various kings squeezed over, each carrying a jar of wine.

"This face must be given," Ye Chen said with a flick of his head, his white hair flowing elegantly as he casually picked up a jar, his presence growing more imposing.

"If this were our era, someone like you would've been beaten to death long ago," Kui Yu Jiang said meaningfully.

"What's with the nonsense? Drink up," Ye Chen raised his jar.

"Drink!" As he lifted it, millions in Heng Yue perked up, their roars echoing like thunder.

The heroic spirits of Da Chu gathered, filled with emotion, holding nothing back as they drank openly, celebrating Ye Chen's return. Who could have imagined that the souls who once fell on the battlefield would reunite for drinks and stories? It was truly moving. And the reason they could stand here now was all thanks to that white-clothed, white-haired youth, who bore a mission to bring the spirits together and restore Da Chu's former glory.

It wasn't until nightfall that the banquet finally dispersed. Heng Yue was indeed drained dry—years of accumulation wiped out in one night of feasting. Even with deep reserves, hosting millions was no small feat, all paid in gleaming Yuan Stones.

As the party ended, forces from all sides staggered away, drunk and flushed, arms around each other's shoulders, calling one another brothers, leaving onlookers twitching their mouths in amusement. Some got so hammered they latched onto Ye Chen—like Xiong Er and Xie Yun—demanding to borrow his wives for the night, and if refused, they kicked up a fuss with endless curses. In the end, those types were tossed out of Heng Yue—who knows how far they flew, just that it was very, very far.

The vast Heng Yue fell silent, left in a mess. The elegant Jade Girl Peak also felt emptier.

Ye Chen dispelled the alcohol's effects and sat under a tree, gazing at the stars. The women were at his side, nestled close, their faces flushed from the wine, their bright eyes watery and hazy with intoxication. Having Ye Chen beside them felt almost unreal. Through countless quiet nights and endless dreams, their tears had flowed only for him. Dressed in vibrant wedding attire, they had waited through the ancient years, guarding their shattered memories, living for this wounded love. He had returned, dusted with the passage of time, still the same Ye Chen, carrying all their dreams.

"Ye Chen, will you marry us?" Shangguan Yue Er murmured softly, leaning on his shoulder, her tenderness like flowing water. Her words were full of deep emotion, echoing what all the women longed to say—they had waited through past lives and this one, across an entire Great Reincarnation. Through storms and blooming flowers, year after year, the most beautiful thing they could imagine was growing old with him, in the mortal world until the end of time.

"Of course!" Ye Chen smiled warmly, his words tinged with weariness. In the Human Path, he had let down the women who loved him so devotedly—that regret would not carry over to reality. He had been away too long, and they had waited just as long. This love, steeped for a thousand years, deserved a resolution.

As night deepened, petals drifted one by one, and the women slipped into sweet dreams under the moonlight. Even in sleep, they clung tightly to Ye Chen's robes. A few murmured in their dreams, all calling Ye Chen's name. Tears still lingered at the corners of their eyes, adorning their sorrowful faces. Ye Chen smiled and summoned a gentle force to carry the women to their respective rooms. Then he rose and headed to the small bamboo grove.

In the grove stood a modest grave, a cenotaph the women had erected for him, infused with their tears. Once, he had stood there alone, gazing at his own tomb and the name on the碑—alive yet with a grave, a truly poignant sight. He gently touched it but didn't destroy the grave. Perhaps, in a hundred or a thousand years, it might be needed again.

After a long while, he departed, stepping up to the peak of Jade Girl Peak and quietly overlooking the immortal realm, his eyes lost in wonder. He was home—he had come home. Everything felt like a dream. The people here, the things here, were all so familiar, and only here could he find solace for his soul.

With a weary smile, he retrieved the Chaos Cauldron and suspended it before him. The cauldron was massive and sturdy, ancient and unadorned, interwoven with strands of Great Dao heavenly sounds and profound Dao essence. He cultivated the Chaos Dao, and it embodied all things—perfectly aligned.

"Come, time for a meal," Ye Chen smiled, waving his hand to pile up heaps of artifacts on the mountaintop. These artifacts were all at least Saint Weapon level—some from the Underworld, some from the Spirit Realm, others plundered along the way—glittering with various lights.

The Chaos Cauldron trembled excitedly, its body humming as a vortex formed at its mouth, swallowing the artifacts one by one. Then came the sound of metal shattering—crack after crack—as the ingested artifacts were crushed by the divine cauldron. It absorbed the essence and discarded the dross, devouring voraciously. As it fed, its rank climbed steadily—from first-layer Saint Weapon all the way to ninth-layer, forcefully breaking through its limits to become a Quasi Saint King Weapon. Yet it didn't stop, advancing like a cultivator until it reached the peak of Quasi Saint King Weapon, then gradually slowed.

It wasn't that it couldn't go further—it was being suppressed by its owner. Ye Chen was a Quasi Saint King, so it could only be one as well. If the restrictions were lifted, Ye Chen was certain that with his current resources, he could propel it straight to Quasi Emperor Weapon level. After three years, advancing again, the cauldron was truly remarkable. Forged from Da Luo Divine Iron, it was an innate deterrent, its power overwhelmingly dominant, its Dao essence naturally formed.

"I wonder which of you is tougher," Ye Chen said, pulling out the Di Zang Meteor Iron, pitch-black and resembling a massive door panel. As he spoke, he didn't forget to bang the meteor iron against the cauldron—clang, the sound crisp, sparks flying brightly. The Chaos Cauldron didn't crack, and neither did the Di Zang Meteor Iron.