Chapter 2813: A Change

The night on Yunü Peak was peaceful and serene.

It was already the fourth month, and Ye Chen still hadn't awakened, as still as a rock, without any movement. Dust had accumulated on his shoulders, bathed in moonlight. His Shèngtǐ shone brilliantly, with Hùnlún Dàozé entwining his body, appearing faintly, and Dàoyīn accompanied by phenomena echoing, profound and infinite.

After three months of healing, the small world inside his body had been repaired, and his Dàogēn had been remolded. As for the injuries to his Yuánshén, they still required much time to nourish, and the hidden wounds were hard to heal.

A gentle breeze blew, cool and refreshing.

Ye Chen's Shèngtǐ trembled slightly, and he could clearly sense that the pressure from the heavens and earth—the suppression of the Dìdào Yīnjì—had weakened a bit, and he felt it quite distinctly.

In the depths of his consciousness, he seemed to glimpse a door, towering like a pillar holding up the sky, seemingly close at hand yet also as if at the end of time, visible but unattainable.

However, that door only appeared in a fleeting glimpse.

"Dà Chéng."

Ye Chen murmured to himself, knowing what that door signified—it was the gate to Quǎn-Emperor perfection. Crossing it would mean achieving Shèngtǐ Dà Chéng, a formidable chasm whose difficulty was no less than becoming an emperor.

In that instant, he opened his eyes.

The door's brief appearance was proof of the issue—his opportunity was not yet sufficient; he couldn't even see it clearly, let alone attempt to cross it. He needed a heaven-defying fortune.

The path to Dà Chéng was still very distant.

After three months, he stood up for the first time, stretched lazily, and his Shènggǔ crackled inside his body. Every section of his Shènggǔ and every inch of his Shèngtǐ occasionally tore with lightning—it wasn't something everyone experienced; only when the physical body reached a certain level of strength would such phenomena occur, with thunderous sounds in every gesture.

Speaking of thunder, he looked toward the small world inside his body and saw the Tàichū Shénléi quietly suspended in mid-air. Tiānléi was also there, occasionally wandering over, but every time it approached, Tàichū Shénléi reacted intensely, its meaning simple and direct: Get lost.

Tiānléi was quite persistent, always trying to get close and coax Tàichū Shénléi into fusing, but to no avail. That bolt of lightning was like a stone in a latrine pit—stubborn and unyielding, impervious to reason.

Ye Chen shook his head helplessly. This situation was identical to what had happened with Tàichū Shénkuò back then. He wondered if the day Tàichū Shénkuò fused would allow him to advance to Dà Chéng. If so, it would be quite dramatic, with history repeating itself in a strikingly similar way, just like when he advanced to Quǎn-Emperor, with Tàichū Shénkuò as the stepping stone.

At night, he descended from the mountain peak.

From afar, he saw a person sitting under an old tree.

Upon closer inspection, it was Jǐ Níngshuāng, unsure if she was healing or comprehending the Dào. She was like an ice sculpture, completely still, with her eyes slightly lowered, quietly lost in thought.

Ye Chen arrived like the wind and squatted in front of Jǐ Níngshuāng, waving his hand in front of her eyes, but there was no reaction at all, as if she were blind.

Such states happened occasionally, and everyone in the Dōngshén Yáochí knew she could be a bit absent-minded.

Ye Chen stroked his chin, glanced around, and then looked up at the starry sky. Tonight, the flowers were in full bloom and the moon was round—this romantic atmosphere might call for something. Most importantly, Jǐ Níngshuāng's mind was currently immersed in her inner realm.

Thinking this, he rubbed his hands together, preparing to carry Yáochí back to the room. Sitting out here was cold; the bed would be warmer, and they could keep each other warm. Hmm, that made sense.

"Come to Tiānxuán Gate."

Before he could touch Jǐ Níngshuāng, he heard a voice from the heavens, belonging to Dōnghuáng Tàixīn.

Upon hearing this, Ye Chen's face darkened a shade. He had a feeling that woman was doing it on purpose, ruining a perfectly good romantic evening.

"Chǔ Xuán and Chǔ Líng have changes."

Dōnghuáng Tàixīn transmitted again.

As soon as he heard that, Ye Chen stopped fooling around and immediately turned, stepping into the sky and leaving.

When he arrived at Tiānxuán Gate, there were many figures gathered.

In the middle of the night, the area in front of Língxiāo Hall was crowded with people, all peak Quǎn-Emperors, most summoned by Dōnghuáng Tàixīn. Who knew how many romantic evenings she had disrupted? Ye Chen didn't know about the others, but looking at Jiǔjiànxiān and Xiānmǔ, it was clear they had just gotten out of bed—especially Xiānmǔ, whose cheeks were flushed. The same went for Chánkuáng and Yànfēi; they were probably in the middle of something too.

Ye Chen descended from the sky and stood at the front of the crowd. Through the hall's doors, he could see the scene inside.

At first glance, he was stunned.

Chǔ Xuán, Chǔ Líng, and Ruòxī were all still there. Ruòxī was fine, but Chǔ Xuán and Chǔ Líng had both reverted to childhood, transformed into two- or three-year-old girls, just like little Ruòxī. The three little girls were lined up neatly, floating in mid-air, looking like triplets at first glance. Without considering their cultivations and bloodlines, it was hard to tell them apart.

"This..."

Ye Chen opened his mouth, about to enter the hall.

Buzz!

Língxiāo Hall hummed and shook him back.

"What's going on with them?"

Ye Chen didn't force his way in and frowned at the hall.

Unfortunately, the hall didn't respond to him.

"Won't the three of them fuse?"

"It's possible."

"Then, after fusing, will they still be themselves?"

"Should we pull them out and check?"

"Dàoshì friend, you're absolutely right."

The group of old rogues stood around with their hands behind their backs, chattering away, one after another, jabbering endlessly, their sense of propriety completely shattered. Most of them had long forgotten what shame was.

In that moment, Shénjiàng raised his hand, Huángzhé raised his hand, Yánluó raised his hand, and Lǎojūn and the others all raised their hands. Those old rogues, every single one of them, were thrown out—it was a regular occurrence. Whenever they gathered, someone always acted up, and someone always got tossed out. Every time, there was that jerk Dìyào.

Ye Chen said nothing. If he weren't so worried about Chǔ Xuán and Chǔ Líng, he would definitely send that bunch of old fools to serve in the mortal emperors' palaces.

"Dad, what's going on?"

From inside the hall, Yè Líng's voice came, circling around the three little ones, looking bewildered. Waking up to find both mothers turned into children—was incredible. He had to admit, his mothers looked adorable as kids, all pink and plump, like little sprites.

"I don't know."

Ye Chen replied, still watching quietly. He believed Língxiāo Hall wouldn't harm Chǔ Xuán and Chǔ Líng, but this situation was truly worrying. Why had they suddenly reverted to childhood? If they really fused, he would be devastated—they were his wives.

Under everyone's gaze, no further changes occurred, and the legendary fusion didn't happen. The three little girls just floated quietly, enveloped in Xiānxiá, with nothing else.

"Interesting."

Rénwáng murmured lightly, Lóngyě also murmured, and Zǐxuán, who hadn't wanted to come, was dragged along by them. As remnants of the emperor's soul, when they gathered, they all said the same things.

"There's something I don't know if I should say."

"Just spit it out!"

"In my view, this hall is quite unpleasant."

The old fellows stroked their beards one after another—who knew how many of them felt the same way? In fact, no one present was pleased. They were all at the peak of ultimate strength, yet not even allowed through the door. It was infuriating.

Three days passed quietly, and during that time, many people left.

By the fifth day, only a few figures remained, with Ye Chen still standing outside the hall. Not far away, Rénwáng was there too, sitting opposite Lóngyě, discussing the Dào through strategy games, occasionally glancing sideways at Ye Chen. That guy was like a statue, his calm almost eerie. As Ye Chen's good friend, Rénwáng understood him well—the calmer the Tenth Emperor of Great Chǔ was, the more terrifying he became. In other words, if anything happened to Chǔ Xuán and Chǔ Líng, he would fight the hall to the death, true to his nature.

Buzz!

Perhaps Ye Chen's silence was too oppressive, as Língxiāo Hall trembled lightly, as if conveying some message, probably something like it wouldn't harm them.

It wasn't until the tenth day that Ye Chen suddenly turned and left.

Before departing, he left two clones behind.

"Have a drink?"

Rénwáng and Lóngyě both called out, the two of them quite leisurely, neither cultivating nor comprehending the Dào, just hanging out together—who knew if they'd developed feelings over time.

"Another day."

Ye Chen waved his hand and vanished as he walked.

When he reappeared, he was at Hàomiè Shénwáng's residence. He glanced at the eternal lamp; after several months, the evil demon's spirit had revived quite a bit, now like a grain of millet instead of a speck of sand, quietly absorbing the starlight and moonlight.

Mù Liúqīng wasn't idle either, his Yuánshén force surging as he nourished it repeatedly, paying no mind to outside matters. His mission was to protect the evil demon's spirit.

Ye Chen didn't disturb them, coming quietly and leaving just as quietly. Cānglán's return to the mortal world was only a matter of time.