Chapter 2071: Life is Like a Play

Chapter 2071: Life is Like a Play

Night deepened, and all was silent. As the autumn wind blew, the woman from the dream had arrived and departed without a sound. Qin Mengyao was completely drunk, slumped over the stone table in a deep sleep, occasionally muttering about someone named Zhao Yun.

"Ask the world, what is love that makes people pledge life and death to each other."

Ye Chen sighed these words, but his hands were busy searching Qin Mengyao's body, hoping to find some treasure or keepsake. Once he was done, he planned to send her back to the Ming Jie. Even if she woke up and wanted revenge, she couldn't reach the Zhutian realms, so what was there to fear?

Unfortunately, aside from the immortal robe she wore, Qin Mengyao had nothing else on her.

"As a Ming Jiang, she's not exactly honorable." Ye Chen grumbled after his search yielded nothing. He couldn't bring himself to strip her clothes, thick-skinned as he was; he still had some sense of propriety.

It was a good thing Qin Mengyao was asleep. If she had been awake, she would have beaten him senseless. "Someone like you has the nerve to call others dishonorable? Taking advantage of me while I'm drunk to steal my treasures—now that's honorable?"

"Your descendant here is quite promising."

The Ming Di on Jie Ming Mountain spoke with a meaningful tone.

"It's just the local customs; you'll get used to it." Di Huang replied earnestly, though he felt utterly embarrassed. The mighty Huang Gu Sheng Ti was reduced to pulling petty schemes like a thief.

Yet, even these two supreme beings underestimated Ye Chen's nature. Things in the garden had turned utterly lawless. That ruthless figure, who had slain emperors, was now drawing blood from Qin Mengyao. Since she had come all this way, he figured he might as well take something. No treasures? Then a bit of blood would do.

Di Huang rubbed his forehead in frustration. Ye Chen's antics didn't just embarrass him—they made him lose all face.

Ming Di, however, was more reliable. Given Ye Chen's outstanding behavior, he issued an order: From now on, any Ming Jie expert summoned to the Zhutian realms by Ye Chen should be dealt with immediately—beat them first and ask questions later. No need to spare Di Huang any courtesy.

Ye Chen, of course, knew nothing of this. He was still busy drawing blood from Qin Mengyao, filling an entire bowl. He wasn't worried about her well-being—a peak Sheng Wang like her could handle a little blood loss.

Under the moonlight, Qin Mengyao's blood glowed purple, shimmering with immortal energy. Her bloodline was no ordinary one, brimming with vast essence that far surpassed Yuan Jing in value.

It wasn't until dawn that he finally sent her back.

Word had it that when Qin Mengyao woke up, she was furious enough to go on a rampage. She stormed into the First Yan Luo Hall and beat every Ming Jiang there. It wasn't for any specific reason—just that Ye Chen had once been one of them. The hall's inhabitants had no idea why they were being targeted.

In the morning, Ye Chen stepped out cheerfully. After months of travels, he never forgot to set up his fortune-telling stall. Before leaving, he glanced over at the neighboring garden.

The old man was up early, starting a fire for breakfast, while his grandson toddled around, helping with the bowls and chopsticks.

Ye Chen didn't disturb them and headed to the bustling main street.

Today, more people than usual came for fortune-telling—some from Zhuxian Town, others drawn by his reputation. The line stretched long into the evening.

Yang Xuan and Shangguan Jiu arrived, their faces bruised and swollen. They'd been caught peeping last night and beaten badly. It was bad enough already, but then some troublemaker kicked them, escalating everything.

They came specifically to have Ye Chen tell their fortunes—who had kicked them?

Ye Chen obliged and did the reading. Afterward, he scolded them thoroughly. "You're supposed to be martial arts masters, sneaking around to peep at night. Have you no shame?" The two hung their heads, unable to respond.

Soon after, Zhuxian Town erupted in chaos. Enraged, Yang Ge Lao and Xia Lan grabbed their weapons—a knife for one, a sword for the other—and chased the pair through the streets, turning the whole area into pandemonium.

"Life is like a play, full of excitement." Ye Chen watched with his hands behind his back, thoroughly entertained. He felt his talent for mischief had reached perfection.

That night, Ye Chen finally saw little Yang Lan again. The little one was still affectionate toward him, looking about two or three years old, plump and cute like a tiny sprite. Sadly, she bore the fate of a Tian Sha Gu Xing. Without the presence of a Tian Qian Zhi Ti in this era, she was destined for a life of solitude.

Leaving Yang Fu, he didn't return to the garden but went to the ancient tombs instead.

Yin Yue Huang Fei was still there, and her cultivation had advanced further.

Ye Chen took half a bowl of Qin Mengyao's blood and infused it into the Yuan Jing. The crystal's essence surged instantly, filling the entire main tomb with abundant spiritual energy. A hazy mist enveloped everything, bathed in golden immortal light.

Yin Yue Huang Fei was astonished. Just a bit of blood could produce such immense divine power? With her knowledge, she couldn't comprehend it.

"This is the power of a special bloodline. When you eventually reach the Xiu Jie, you'll encounter even more and stronger ones." Ye Chen explained with a smile, also elaborating on the mysteries of bloodlines, including Shen Cang.

Yin Yue Huang Fei listened attentively, committing every word to memory.

Time passed in a flash, and three days went by.

It wasn't until the fourth night that Ye Chen left the ancient tomb, strolling slowly through the mountains and forests, gazing quietly at the stars. The fortunes of the realm were converging toward the south—the aura of emperors. This meant the land was moving toward unification, though war was inevitable beforehand. With only three feudal lords left in a three-legged standoff, that balance wouldn't last much longer.

As he predicted, half a month later, the three lords went to war in a two-against-one formation. Over a million soldiers clashed, leaving fields of corpses and rivers of blood.

The battle dragged on for three years. Chu Wang and Han Wang emerged victorious, capturing Qin Guo's capital. Qin Wang fell in defeat and took his own life, marking the end of Qin Guo. The realm shifted from a three-way stalemate to a north-south confrontation. Everyone knew that one of Chu Wang or Han Wang would eventually unite the land, so it was only a matter of time before the flames of war spread across the rivers and mountains once more. That final conflict would bring true unification.

The morning sunlight was as warm as ever.

Ye Chen sat at his table, chin in hands, bored out of his mind.

Another three years had passed, and the person he was waiting for still hadn't arrived. He had no idea how much longer it would take; he only knew this cultivation journey would be incredibly drawn out.

In those three years, he had ventured out multiple times, visiting ancient cities and villages, searching this ancient star for any sign of reincarnation. Sadly, he found no identical souls. This only deepened his confusion. If there was no reincarnation, how to explain the soul of Qi Wang Shizi? The contradictions were baffling.

Before long, Yang Ge Lao and Xia Lan arrived, bringing little Yang Lan with them.

Indeed, Xia Lan was still alive, having survived another three years.

Little Yang Lan, however, was peculiar. Another three years had passed, making her six years old, yet she hadn't grown at all—she still looked two or three. Every time she appeared, she drew strange looks, leaving Yang Ge Lao visiting Ye Chen daily for some reasonable explanation. How could she age without growing?

Ye Chen knew the truth but couldn't say it. The issue wasn't with little Yang Lan; it was with Ye Fan. Even without checking, Ye Chen knew Ye Fan was the same—stuck at two or three years old. This was due to the interplay of their fates; how long it would take for her to grow was anyone's guess.

"Why has it suddenly gone dark?" Someone exclaimed in surprise, drawing everyone's gaze skyward.

It was broad daylight, but the sky had turned dim, as if a storm was brewing—yet there were no signs of rain.

"A cultivator." Ye Chen frowned.

No sooner had he spoken than a thunderous boom echoed from the void, followed by flashes of lightning.

Then, a blood-red figure materialized in the sky—a elderly man in a blood-colored python robe, leaning on a dragon-headed staff. He stood like a god, surveying the mortals below with a mocking, playful expression.

"Is that... an immortal?" The people of Zhuxian Town gaped, and a few dropped to their knees, praying for divine protection.

"Is that an immortal?" Ling Feng and his companions stepped out of their house, staring up at the sky in a daze.

"Tun Xue Mo Gong." Among all present, only Ye Chen's face turned deathly pale. He recognized the elder's cultivation technique—an extremely evil art that required the fresh blood of living beings to nourish one's body. The elder's purpose was clear: He was here to devour the blood of mortals to aid his own cultivation.

Buzz!

The sky trembled as a powerful pressure descended, making the heavens rumble. The people of Zhuxian Town coughed up blood, unable to move.

This included Ye Chen. The elder was a Ling Xu Jing cultivator, and his aura was beyond what Ye Chen could withstand.

"All beings are mere ants. To merge with me is your greatest fortune." The blood-robed elder's voice boomed like thunder, ethereal and commanding, like a decree from the heavens. It carried an endless demonic power, echoing through the world. His ferocious face twisted into a sinister, terrifying grin, like that of a fiend.

Screams erupted as many were sucked into the air, turning into clouds of blood mist that fused into the elder's body. He savored it with evident delight.

The mortals watched in horror. Wasn't he a god, meant to protect them? Why was he slaughteirng the living?

"Ye Chen." Yang Xuan, Ling Feng, and Shangguan Jiu struggled to turn their heads, calling out to him, hoping this immortal could turn the tide and save them.

"Cang Lan." Ye Chen was calling out to the demon, his eyes bloodshot. A Ning Qi Jing cultivator was like a god in the mortal world; a Ling Xu Jing one was far beyond his capabilities.

But his calls went unanswered.

"How could this be?" In the ancient tomb, Yin Yue Huang Fei's body trembled. The Ling Xu Jing pressure was overwhelming; if even Ye Chen couldn't bear it, neither could she.

"Tremble!" The elder's sinister laughter filled the sky. That evil blood-robed figure grinned grotesquely, like a demon feasting unchecked on the blood of the living.

Amid the screams, more people were pulled up and dissolved into blood mist.

"Mother!" Little Yang Lan's cry was sharp and clear. She was being drawn away, her tiny form helpless as she looked back at her parents, tears streaming down her face.

"No!" Yang Ge Lao and Xia Lan shouted desperately, driven mad with grief.

But they were mere mortals; they couldn't even save themselves, let alone others.

"Cang Lan, Cang Lan." Ye Chen kept calling, his eyes turning crimson. He had never felt so useless, watching little Yang Lan being taken, powerless to stop it. Unless something changed, she would become blood mist, consumed by the elder.

Blood?

The word triggered a thought—Qin Mengyao's blood. It was the blood of a peak Sheng Wang, from a dominant bloodline.

Struggling, he moved his hand to his waist, grabbing the hanging wine gourd where the blood was stored.

With a crack, the gourd shattered, and the fresh blood burst out, seeping into his body strand by strand, transforming into a terrifying surge of power.