Chapter 1954: Bad Luck in the Passing Years

"This..." Ye Chen suddenly trembled, his face turning pale.

The old man looked at Ren Wang and asked tentatively, "Which one is it?"

"The First Divine General," Ren Wang replied, sighing deeply.

His words instantly stifled the atmosphere, casting a dark shadow over their moods. The disaster had come so abruptly, leaving them completely unprepared. A Zhun Di had fallen just like that—the First Divine General under Xianwu Emperor Zun, who had once fought alongside the emperor to conquer the world with illustrious achievements. Now, he had become nothing but dust in history.

"What bad luck in these fleeting years!" the old man exclaimed with a shake of his head.

His words struck a chord with Ye Chen. It wasn't just unfavorable years; it was an endless stream of misfortunes. In the years he and Ren Wang had been cultivating, they had constantly heard of those undergoing Ying Jie perishing. Over the past forty years in Da Chu, the number of Zhun Di who had fallen in their calamities was already in the dozens, and even in death, they never realized their true identities.

Suddenly, a sense of guilt overwhelmed Ye Chen's heart.

This wave of Ying Jie madness ultimately traced back to him; he bore an undeniable responsibility. The emergence of the bloodline limit on the same day had triggered this catastrophe, drawing nearly eighty percent of Zhun Di-level experts into it involuntarily.

Even now, only forty years had passed, yet the number of Zhun Di from the various heavens who had perished was countless. This disaster had dealt a terrifying blow to the peak forces of the heavens, and the damage was irreparable.

No one knew how many more would fall in the midst of these tribulations. This cycle of calamity was filled with sorrow, drenched in fresh blood, evoking an involuntary tremble in the soul. The ways of the world were too cruel, and the heavens too heartless. The path against the heavens was paved with the blood and bones of living beings, and anyone could collapse along the way.

The night was eerily silent, with the three of them falling into silence. Even the lecherous old man had put away his treasured items, his eyes unable to hide their sadness.

This time, what the three drank was no longer ancient tea, but strong liquor, incredibly bitter and hard to swallow.

As dawn approached, the streets gradually filled with people again.

The new day brought a vibrant energy to the ancient city, with everyone in various trades full of enthusiasm. Teahouses, stalls, and street performers were all calling out to attract customers, creating a lively scene. All sorts of ordinary people played their roles amid the clamor, displaying the warmth and coldness of the world and revealing the myriad aspects of mortal life.

In contrast, the old man's tea stall seemed particularly unobtrusive.

However, many passersby would glance over with curious expressions, especially at Ye Chen and Ren Wang, who were cloaked and hooded, concealing their true appearances. This made the pedestrians忍不住 stop and try to uncover the mysterious veil.

Soon, customers arrived at the tea stall, and the old man got up to boil water for tea.

Ye Chen set aside his sorrowful thoughts and quietly watched the old man selling tea. He was clearly a powerful expert, a supreme Zhun Di, yet here in the mortal world, he sold tea without anger at the customers' urges or curses, only greeting them with a smile. It was as if he were just an ordinary tea seller in this mundane realm.

Ye Chen began to understand, realizing Ren Wang's true intention. It wasn't just about retrieving the Dun Jia Tian Zi; the real purpose was to show him how this elder predecessor practiced in the mortal world.

Though the mortal realm lacked the fantastical wonders of the cultivator world, it had one thing the cultivator world could never match: its fundamental ordinariness, which cultivators could never truly imitate.

"Old man, one bowl of tea." As Ye Chen was lost in thought, a voice rang out, cold and indifferent, devoid of emotion.

His thoughts interrupted, Ye Chen instinctively turned his head to look.

At the nearby tea table sat a new customer, also cloaked, with a frail figure but strikingly handsome—or more accurately, a woman disguised as a man. Her features were already peerlessly beautiful, and in male attire, she was dashingly perfect.

She seemed to be a Jian Ke, or more precisely, a Ci Ke. Her murderous aura was restrained, icy to the bone, her eyes as cold as ice, and her face revealed no trace of human emotion.

As Ye Chen watched, she had just sat down and placed her sword on the table, quietly sipping her tea. Perhaps her aura was too chilling, as the other tea drinkers subconsciously kept their distance. She was a martial arts master, without a doubt.

Ye Chen averted his gaze and deliberately pulled his hood down lower.

He did so because this woman disguised as a man was someone undergoing Ying Jie, and moreover, the emperor of Da Chu: Yue Huang.

Ren Wang did the same, pulling his hood down, as if he also recognized her as Yue Huang.

Though the two felt a sense of lament, they weren't overly shocked. On this cultivation journey, they had encountered too many people undergoing Ying Jie, taking on all sorts of roles—cultivators, mortals, spiritual herbs, or demonic beasts.

In Yue Huang's case, undergoing Ying Jie as a Ci Ke was already quite normal compared to those who became spiritual herbs or demonic beasts.

"Her fate is extremely weak," Ren Wang said slowly.

"Are you saying that Senior Yue Huang might not survive this Ying Jie?" Ye Chen tensed up, staring intently at Ren Wang.

"Anyone undergoing Ying Jie could perish in the process," Ren Wang replied calmly. "Whether it's fortune or misfortune depends on destiny."

Ye Chen fell silent. His question had been a bit foolish; Ren Wang had explained this a thousand times on their journey. Whether one could pass through safely depended entirely on fate.

Indeed, Ren Wang could use the power of creation to reverse the disaster for those undergoing Ying Jie, but it would only invite more complications. After all, Ren Wang was Fu Xi, not the Creation God King; this wasn't his specialty.

"What's going on? Why has the sky turned dark again?" As the two communicated telepathically, someone nearby exclaimed in surprise.

Indeed, dark clouds had gathered in the sky, obscuring the clear heavens. Amid the rolling clouds, flashes of lightning and thunder rumbled, like harbingers of rain or a cultivator's heavenly tribulation.

This change caused a stir in the ancient city. Whether pedestrians or stall owners, they all looked up, and even people in the teahouses rushed out, while those on the second floor opened their windows to gaze upward.

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, a young man with purple hair materialized, striding through the air. His eyes were blood-red, his robes fluttering wildly—he was a Huang Jing cultivator.

"Another one undergoing Ying Jie," Ye Chen narrowed his eyes, recognizing him as a Honghuang Zhun Di.

"An immortal?" the mortals in the city murmured, staring in a daze. Anyone who could walk on air must be a legendary deity, right?

But before they could kneel, a powerful pressure descended from the sky, enveloping the ancient city. The mortals, whether standing or sitting, were all immobilized. Naturally, this didn't affect Ye Chen and his companions.

"Using your fresh blood to refine my magical weapon is the best option." The purple-haired youth laughed eerily, his eyes gleaming with malice. His words carried an irresistible demonic force, like a monarch standing in the heavens, looking down on insignificant ants, his expression mocking and playful.

Immediately, a beam of blood light shot from his forehead, transforming into a treasure tower radiating silver light and overflowing with immortal energy. Every strand of it was incredibly heavy, making even the heavens tremble.

Seeing this, Ye Chen's gaze turned cold. As a Sheng Wang, he knew exactly what the purple-haired youth intended—to swallow all the mortals into the tower and annihilate them. This was an evil refining method, using the blood of living beings to sacrifice his natal magical weapon, harnessing their resentment. Ye Chen had seen such techniques all too often.

"Don't intervene," Ren Wang transmitted to him as Ye Chen prepared to act.

"If I don't, Senior Yue Huang will be hard-pressed to escape this death trap." Ye Chen glanced at Yue Huang, who had turned pale, blood trickling from her mouth. Among mortals, she was a martial arts master, but against a cultivator, she was no match—a single palm from a Huang Jing expert could kill her countless times over.

"Don't worry, someone will handle it," Ren Wang said indifferently, continuing to sip his wine as if oblivious to the mortals' plight.

Sure enough, as soon as he spoke, a massive hand suddenly appeared.

The purple-haired youth in the sky was about to activate his divine tower to devour the living beings when he collided head-on with the hand. His expression changed drastically as he tried to flee, but it was too late. The hand's pressure was overwhelming; he couldn't even move, let alone escape.

In an instant, he was obliterated by a single palm, without so much as a scream. His natal divine tower was destroyed along with him.

Even in death, he felt resentful. There were so many mortal stars; why had he chosen this one? Unbeknownst to him, a great expert was hidden in this city, and one misstep had cost him his life.

With his death, the darkened heavens cleared once more.

The mortals in the city, who had been immobilized, regained their mobility. Without a word, many collapsed in a heap, sweating profusely, their faces ashen as they gasped for breath.

In that moment, they had felt an icy chill throughout their bodies, as if dragged into hell. They could guess that another immortal had saved them; otherwise, they would already be on the road to the underworld.

The mortals didn't know who it was, but Ye Chen saw it clearly—the one who struck was the old man selling tea, his palm casual and effortless. A Huang Jing expert was nothing in his eyes.

"By intervening like this, won't it disrupt the Ying Jie?" Ye Chen asked.

"He doesn't even know that's someone undergoing Ying Jie," Ren Wang replied casually.

"How is that possible?" Ye Chen said doubtfully. "I can tell, and he's a Zhun Di—how could he not see it?"

"Even with my insight, I almost missed it, let alone him," Ren Wang chuckled. "This old fellow may be strong in combat, but his vision is lacking. In a sense, he's not even as perceptive as you. Since he doesn't know, there's no major issue. As the saying goes, ignorance is no sin. In this situation, it won't affect the Ying Jie. But for us, it's different—if we know it's someone undergoing Ying Jie and still interfere deliberately, that would be intentional meddling. The two are not the same."

"I see." Ye Chen breathed a sigh of relief, feeling no pity for the Honghuang Zhun Di's death. The Honghuang clans would likely be heartbroken over the loss of a peak Zhun Di.

Beside them, Yue Huang stood up, left two copper coins on the table, and staggered away, disappearing into the crowd, her figure desolate.

Ye Chen watched her leave, his heart filled with reluctance. Ren Wang had said her fate was weak, and she might perish in the Ying Jie.

Perhaps this was their last meeting. If she truly fell, how heartbroken Qian Shang Yue would be.