The bonfire burned brightly, occasionally crackling as flames danced between the logs.
"Senior Brother," Buyang lowered his voice, gesturing toward Luo Luo under the corridor. "Shouldn’t you move Little Sister to a proper bed?"
"Yeah, yeah," a senior sister chimed in, carefully sipping from her wine jar. "We’re all afraid of waking her with even the slightest noise."
Li Zhaoye glanced back at Luo Luo and chuckled, raising his own wine jar to clink against hers.
A soft dong echoed.
"Don’t worry, keep drinking!" he said. "She sleeps better with our voices around."
The others: "Oh…"
Though no one fully trusted this newly revealed side of their senior brother, no one doubted his understanding of Luo Luo.
If he said she slept better this way, then she definitely did.
So, they relaxed a little—clinking bowls, adding firewood, reminiscing about trivial past events.
Li Zhaoye occasionally turned to look at her.
She wasn’t frowning. Instead, her lips curled into a silly little smile.
A pillow cushioned her head, but the blanket on her left side had slipped slightly.
With an impatient tsk, he lazily reached out, hooked a sealing thread, and tugged the blanket back over her shoulder, bundling her snugly.
The others stifled laughter.
Someone teased, "Senior Brother, your eyes are practically glued to Little Sister. Why not just go sit with her?"
Li Zhaoye scoffed. "Nonsense. I was just fixing her blanket."
The group exchanged exasperated looks.
In less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, he’d "fixed" that blanket eighteen times.
Just now, it had slipped maybe a hair’s breadth, and he still had to adjust it.
Li Zhaoye waved a dismissive hand. "What’s the point of clinging to each other all the time? Pathetic."
The others: "…Yeah, yeah, sure."
In Luo Luo’s dreams, there was only warm firelight and laughter.
How strange—everything seemed funnier when everyone was together.
Listening to their stories, she dreamed of sitting by the fire too, right beside Li Zhaoye.
Their arms brushed occasionally, and she laughed harder to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks.
Night deepened.
The fire dimmed, choked by too much ash. No matter how much wood they added, it refused to blaze again.
One by one, the group sprawled out to sleep—leaning against pillars, draped over railings—until snores rose in uneven chorus.
A pair of sweethearts, a senior brother and sister, stole away behind flowering trees to kiss.
Li Zhaoye found a spot on the slanted eaves where he could still see Luo Luo. Resting his head on his hands, he drifted into a half-sleep.
In his dream, Luo Luo ignored him, walking away without a glance.
"Hey—hey!" he called. "Stop right there, you hear me?"
She didn’t listen. Damn it.
He jolted awake, reflexively kicking a copper roof tile into the air.
Before it could clatter, he teleported, catching it midair.
Close call.
Glancing down, he saw her still sleeping peacefully, nothing like the dream. With another tsk, he adjusted her blanket again.
Deep into the night, Luo Luo suddenly woke.
Her heart pounded for no reason, a bone-deep chill spreading through her.
Her eyes flew open. The fire had died. Moonlight bathed the courtyard, casting sharp shadows over their sleeping companions.
A large hand rested lazily on her head.
"What’s wrong?"
Hearing his voice, the knot in her chest loosened slightly.
She had to ask: "We’re leaving at dawn, right?"
He leaned down, his face emerging beside her shoulder.
Moonlight carved his sharp features into stark contrast, startling her.
Eyebrow raised, he said, "We can go now if you want. I’ll wake them."
Luo Luo hesitated. "…Yeah. I have a bad feeling."
Li Zhaoye: "Got it."
Xu Junzhu, meditating under the corridor, snapped her eyes open.
She’d felt uneasy too but suppressed it—they’d agreed to leave tomorrow, and Luo Luo, still injured, had been sleeping soundly.
Hearing Luo Luo’s words now, Xu Junzhu gave her a grateful nod.
Robes fluttering, the two darted through the corridors, rousing everyone.
"Ugh—did they catch us stealing chickens?" Zhao Yu scrambled up. "Run, run!"
Xu Junzhu: "…"
"Actually, good timing," Senior Brother Buyang said, stepping outside. "Those old dogs from the Heavenly Path Sect and Heavy Star Sect are definitely plotting something. They expect us to leave tomorrow—let’s slip out tonight and catch them off guard."
The others groaned. "It’s past midnight—that is tomorrow! How is this ‘slipping out’?"
Buyang laughed, rubbing his head. "Right, right. Just a normal retreat, totally normal!"
As he spoke, he strode through the gate—
Then immediately stepped back.
"Wait—outside… something’s wrong."
His voice tightened as he motioned for them to stay back.
"What? What’s happening?"
Tension spiked.
Li Zhaoye had just carried Luo Luo, wheelchair and all, down the steps.
She exhaled heavily. "…Of course my bad feeling was right."
Xu Junzhu frowned. "Would they really attack after swearing oaths before the world? Bai Yi, what’s out there?"
Bai Yi (formerly "Buyang") glanced back. "The yard’s turned into the Netherworld."
Luo Luo: "!"
So that was his real name.
Before anyone could react, the sky brightened.
Amidst dark clouds, golden array patterns shimmered into existence.
Most didn’t recognize them, but Luo Luo immediately looked at Li Zhaoye.
Oh no.
This was the Divine Palace’s Eight Trigrams Formation. They’d finally come!
Then, a woman’s commanding voice boomed across the night:
"We humbly request the Divine Master’s return!"
Layered, echoing, the metallic resonance vibrated through the air. Luo Luo’s chest constricted—she coughed up blood.
"Little Sister!" "Little Sister!"
The voice thundered again: "Remain where you are, and your lives will be spared!"
Li Zhaoye smirked, signaling the group to stay back.
They protested: "Senior Brother!" "Senior Brother!"
He strode forward, the disguise around his eyes cracking away—revealing those infamous crimson marks and… a pair of gloomy dark circles.
Zhao Yu gasped: "Huh?! Senior Brother’s the Divine Master?! Senior Brother’s the Divine Master?!"
Xu Junlan rolled her eyes. "You think Luo Luo would sleep with him otherwise?"
Despite the situation, Luo Luo felt compelled to clarify: "We didn’t."
(Otherwise, would her Golden Core have advanced so smoothly?)
Li Zhaoye shook his head at them, clicking his tongue. With a lazy wave, he pointed: "Watch her. I’ll be back."
Calmly, he walked toward the gate, shoving aside anyone blocking his path.
The others muttered in awe: "So arrogant… Senior Brother’s so arrogant!"
The Hall of Sealed Divinity.
Master Lingxue, despite her severe injuries, swiftly slew three ancient demons.
The deafening roars abruptly ceased, leaving only the sound of dripping in her ears.
"Drip… drip…"
Blood fell, striking the ground, echoing endlessly through the layered halls.
This crimson rain seemed as though it would last until the end of time.
With no time to tend to her wounds, she swiftly sealed her aura with frost and fled deeper into the darkness, dragging her battered body—the commotion here would soon draw more demons.
Her divine sense swept hastily over the surroundings.
No mortal had ever glimpsed the true visage of the Hall of Sealed Divinity.
Now that she had ventured deep within, she was struck speechless by its grandeur.
The hall was far vaster than imagined, adorned with intricate carvings and endless corridors, like an inescapable maze.
Eternal lamps embedded in the walls cast eerie shadows.
Looking up, she could barely see the ceiling—only towering, grotesque statues stretching toward the heavens.
Lingxue dashed forward, only to find more halls beyond, layer upon layer, without end. The walls were unyielding, far beyond mortal strength to breach. There was no exit, no end—yet, at least, no new demons crossed her path.
She exhaled softly, checked her surroundings, and sat cross-legged beneath a statue to meditate and heal.
Yet, even after a while, her mind remained unsettled.
Her eyes snapped open, a pang of regret rising in her heart—she should have demanded a promise from Qing Xu.
The sect’s disciples meant nothing to him. If he had pledged not to harm them, he would have kept his word.
What secrets that man hid, she did not know.
But she knew he never made promises lightly.
Perhaps some force of karma bound him to his word… Lingxue smiled bitterly.
Back then, he had almost agreed to stay with her forever.
He hadn’t, and so he hadn’t kept that vow either.
What a pity. Today’s events had unfolded too suddenly—she hadn’t had the chance to ask for his promise to spare the sect’s disciples. Maybe, knowing she was doomed, he would have agreed.
Lingxue clenched her fists in frustration.
Amidst her swirling thoughts, she sensed something amiss.
Something… was watching her.
Then, one after another, terrifying auras awoke around her.
Lingxue sucked in a sharp breath—"The statues!"
Countless statues—each one a demon.
The Sacred Tree.
Not long after Li Zhaoye stepped out, the golden light of the Eight Trigrams Seal erupted overhead, illuminating every anxious face in the courtyard.
Then, wave after wave of terrifying tremors followed.
The bronze ground beneath their feet heaved violently, and soon, monstrous roars echoed from beyond the courtyard.
Bestial, inhuman.
Luo Luo pressed her lips tightly together, her fingers twisting the blanket into two tight spirals.
She knew that if she tried to leave, the others would never stand by.
But against the Divine Palace, they stood no chance.
Luo Luo wasn’t afraid to die—but she couldn’t bear to drag others down with her.
"Thud."
A hand landed on her shoulder.
Xu Junzhu swept his gaze across the group and declared, "Everyone, what’s the seventh rule of our sect? Do you remember?"
The crowd stirred with renewed vigor!
Zhao Yu leaped up and blurted, "One in trouble, all share the burden!"
Xu Junzhu: "…"
Though he’d butchered the phrasing, the gist was correct.
Xu Junlan was already rolling up her sleeves: "Those who abandon their comrades shall be cast out!"
Xu Junzhu: "…"
This one was even worse—not a single word matched!
"Senior Brother’s in a fight—how can we just stand by?" The Senior Brother from Qingyu Peak, who had once eaten fifteen chicken butts in one sitting, drew his sword furiously. "Who cares about the Divine Palace or the Ghost Palace? We know who our Senior Brother is! Let’s go—fight them!"
"Right, fight!"
"Fight!"
Not a single person in the courtyard hesitated, their blood boiling with fervor.
"Good!" Xu Junzhu grinned. "This is the spirit of Tai Xuan Sect! Xu Junlan, you stay with Luo Luo. The rest—follow me!"
"Yes!" "Got it!"
Swords rang as they left their sheaths. Ignoring the Divine Palace’s warnings, the group charged past the courtyard’s boundary line.
Xu Junlan reluctantly pushed Luo Luo’s wheelchair out.
She grumbled, "If it weren’t for you holding me back, I might’ve been the first to save Senior Brother and turn him back to the light!"
Luo Luo silently raised a finger.
After a moment of effort—"Whoosh!"—a bright flame flickered to life at her fingertip.
Luo Luo: "See? This is what ‘light’ looks like."
Xu Junlan sputtered, "What?! You’ve reached the Nascent Soul stage?! Hmph, so what if you can use magic? A rushed breakthrough like yours must’ve produced a shoddy soul!"
Luo Luo generously offered her wrist. "Feel for yourself."
Xu Junlan lifted the wheelchair over the threshold with one hand and pressed her fingers to Luo Luo’s pulse with the other, channeling a thread of spiritual energy.
After a long pause, she spat out two words.
"Damn it!"
Then two more.
"I hate you!"
As for the fact that Luo Luo had freely offered her vulnerable pulse point—neither mentioned it.
Outside, the scene that greeted them was chaos.
This forbidden domain was not the Sacred Tree but some unknown city.
In the distance, palace structures loomed faintly, while nearby, the grid-like streets lay in ruins.
The golden seal hovered like an inverted bowl. Wu Xie stood at the center, flanked by Divine Palace disciples chanting shimmering incantations.
Trapped within the seal, Li Zhaoye was drenched in blood, his back hunched, arms hanging limp, growling like a beast.
The golden "bowl" was smeared with blood—he had rammed against it countless times but failed to break free.
Shattered seal fragments littered the ground at his feet, and his sword, Changtian, lay discarded beside him.
"Li Zhaoye!" Luo Luo called.
He gave no response.
Zhen Tu’s sleeves fluttered as she teleported in front of the Tai Xuan Sect members.
The Holy Maiden’s voice was sharp: "Turn back now, and I may yet spare your lives!"
Xu Junzhu stepped forward. "Holy Maiden, Li Zhaoye is our Senior Brother. There must be some misunderstanding—can we discuss this?"
Zhen Tu sneered. "Persist, and you’ll regret it."
Xu Junzhu clasped his hands. "If Senior Brother has erred, the Divine Palace should take this up with our elders."
Zhen Tu lost patience. "Leave, or face the consequences."
Xu Junzhu: "Even if we die—"
Zhen Tu laughed coldly. "The deaths of ants are worthless!"
In a flash, she struck Xu Junzhu’s chest.
Xu Junzhu coughed blood as she was sent flying, and the two senior sisters who tried to catch her were also knocked back, spitting blood.
The gap in power was too vast—Zhen Tu could slaughter them all with ease.
Luo Luo only had eyes for Li Zhaoye.
She realized now—what trapped him wasn’t the seal.
On the contrary, the seals that had once bound him now lay shattered at his feet.
The Divine Palace had undone them, unleashing the demon within.
They were using it to break him.
Luo Luo gritted her teeth. "Dis… graceful…"
Zhen Tu turned to look at her, their gazes meeting as the corner of his lips curled. "Figured it out?"
Luo Luo enunciated each word deliberately. "Figured it out."
After the seal was lifted, the one dominating this body was Him.
That merciless Divine Sovereign.
In just a little while, He would likely be crawling on the ground.
Zhen Tu waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a fly. "So take these people and leave immediately. If they learn this secret, every single person here will die."
Luo Luo pressed her lips together, silent for a moment before speaking hoarsely. "Senior Sister, take them away—"
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder.
"We’ve come this far! Today, we will avenge Senior Brother!" Xu Junzhu wiped the blood from her lips with her sleeve and sneered. "What’s the final rule of our sect?—When upholding righteousness, even the impossible must be attempted!"
Luo Luo’s heart trembled.
Senior Sister truly was like her master—a living embodiment of sect rules.
The disciples roared in unison, "Even the impossible must be attempted!"
Zhen Tu couldn’t help but laugh coldly. "With your pitiful Golden Core and Nascent Soul cultivation? Killing you would be effortless."
"Oh?" Xu Junzhu’s voice dropped low. "Brothers and sisters, heed my command! Form the formation—None Shall Lack a Robe!"
The disciples laughed. "Aye!"
Hand seals flashed as they channeled their soul-blood into the heart of the formation.
The clang of swords rang out, and in an instant, cold light intertwined as spiritual veins surged. The many disciples moved as one.
A clear, soaring sword cry pierced the heavens, battle intent blazing across the skies.
Shall we lack robes? We share the same garment.
Once the None Shall Lack a Robe sword formation was unleashed, the spiritual power of all within it became interconnected—pain shared, life and death bound together.
Zhen Tu teleported, slamming down a palm strike.
"Boom!"
Spiritual power like a tidal wave crashed into the sword formation.
A resonant hum echoed as the disciples paled in unison, bearing the brunt of the strike together. Then, their bodies pivoted, swords sweeping overhead before retracting—only to thrust forward as one!
"Clang!"
A colossal sword aura materialized, slashing straight toward Zhen Tu!
Zhen Tu sidestepped, his expression darkening.
With this formation, intimidation was futile—and picking them off one by one, impossible.
"Boom!"
The sword aura struck the Eight Trigrams golden seal.
Wu Xie, presiding over the formation, bellowed in fury, "Zhen Tu, what are you doing?!"
Zhen Tu suppressed his rage. "These fools overestimate themselves. Pathetic."
Luo Luo took a sharp breath and shouted at Wu Xie.
"Wu Xie!" she cried. "Li Zhaoye is your great-grandson! Back then, you placed him in the Divine River—"
Wu Xie cast her a disinterested glance. "Do you truly believe I care?"
She continued, "You think putting him in the Divine River was giving him a chance? Wrong. Beneath its waters lie countless infant bones—every bastard born from illicit unions in the Divine Palace is thrown into that river. Not placed in a basket. Just thrown."
Luo Luo was stunned. "But Li Zhaoye survived."
Wu Xie shrugged. "He was indeed tenacious. Even in the womb, He failed to devour him. Hah. Truly his father’s son! But his luck ends today."
Luo Luo frowned—a realization dawning.
Meanwhile, Zhen Tu unleashed a barrage of attacks, each strike hammering into the None Shall Lack a Robe formation.
Blood trickled from the disciples’ lips as the formation was forced back inch by inch, like waves receding from the shore.
Yet they sang through the blood in their mouths.
"Shall we lack robes? We share the same garment..."
"Shall we lack robes? We share the same zeal..."
"Shall we lack robes? We share the same cause..."
Their voices rose in defiance as they advanced, slamming into Zhen Tu with everything they had.
"Gah!"
Xu Junzhu, at the forefront, spat out a mouthful of bright heart’s blood.
Luo Luo pushed her wheelchair forward, closing in on Wu Xie.
"You fed pregnant women fetal gu?!" she accused. "To help Him devour the infants’ souls, didn’t you?!"
Wu Xie didn’t even blink.
Luo Luo knew she was right.
"What you needed was a mindless puppet, easy to control! Wu Ya carried twins—He consumed the souls of Li Zhaoye’s sibling but failed to take him!" Luo Luo’s heart pounded violently. "Our Li Zhaoye is incredible! Even as a baby, he was that strong!"
Wu Xie’s lips twitched. "That was a miscalculation."
Luo Luo caught it—she wasn’t referring to Li Zhaoye, but to his father.
Li Zhaoye’s father had been the first soul He failed to fully consume, a will that clung stubbornly to existence.
Wu Ya’s love had reawakened him—but in the end, they had still fallen to the Divine Palace.
Now, they were using the same tactic against Li Zhaoye.
Luo Luo strained to wheel closer.
Within the golden seal, an overwhelming spring-like aura began to seep out—thick with the scent of Yu Fusheng.
At the four corners of the formation, voluptuous women draped in sheer gauze appeared, their eyes glazing over with intoxication.
A Divine Sovereign devoid of reason, manipulated by Yu Fusheng, would soon succumb to bestial urges—violating these women to pass down the "curse," leaving behind a vessel fit for sacrifice.
"Junior Sister, don’t let them succeed!"
The None Shall Lack a Robe formation spun faster, straining to keep Zhen Tu from reaching Luo Luo.
Enraged, Zhen Tu summoned his lifebound artifact.
"You insects—do you truly think you can stop me?!"
The artifact descended, its radiance illuminating the entire Yin Mansion. The formation had no choice but to meet it head-on.
"BOOM—CRACK!"
Every sword groaned under the pressure, bending unnaturally.
The disciples convulsed, blood mist spraying from their mouths.
Were it not for their shared fate, corpses would already litter the ground.
Bent double, they held their swords aloft in unison, shielding Luo Luo behind them.
"Unless... you kill... every last one of us!"
Luo Luo formed a sword seal, summoning Autumn Waters with difficulty.
She panted, her entire body trembling—yet her grip on the sword remained steady.
Her Nascent Soul quivered within her dantian, forcing every wisp of flame-imbued spiritual power toward her palm.
Wu Xie, unable to break focus on the formation, snarled, "Zhen Tu, deal with her now!"
Zhen Tu raised his artifact.
Behind him, spiritual power coalesced into a colossal replica of the artifact, its brilliance blinding.
Even before it struck, the disciples sensed annihilation looming.
'We’re dead...'
Hearts quaked. Swords quaked.
Yet they straightened, tips aimed at the overwhelming, unstoppable might of the Great Dao.
"Annihilate!"
"BOOM—HUM—"
It was as if the heavens themselves were crashing down upon them.
Flames flickered to life along Luo Luo’s blade.
Faster, faster, faster!
Wu Xie, who had tasted her sword before, shouted, "What good will breaking the formation do?! Release Him, and you all die!"
Luo Luo’s eyes narrowed, fixed on the figure within the formation.
Devoid of humanity, only instinct remained—He was moments away from hunching over, crawling on all fours, then tearing into the women prepared for Him under Yu Fusheng’s influence.
But—
In his right palm, he held something firmly.
Li Zhaoye—he was still there.
As his body leaned forward, a crimson spider-witch darted out with lightning speed, her fangs plunging straight into his forehead.
"Roar—roar!"
The beast-like divine master let out a deafening howl.
Luo Luo's eyes darkened, and she abruptly drew her sword!
She had always known—in Li Zhaoye's dictionary, the word "surrender" didn’t exist.
And neither did it in hers.
