Of course they wanted to snatch it.
Wen Shuangbai blinked her left eye, exchanging a meaningful glance with her teammates in silent understanding.
The four of them huddled in the corner, communicating wordlessly before quickly forming a plan.
The bronze walls here were exceptionally sturdy, with the only exits being two fist-sized holes on either side.
Thus, the bored-to-death Four Hundred Coins finally had a purpose.
The puppet figurine, still in its invisible state, crept stealthily toward one of the holes, carefully squeezing through.
It dutifully followed its master’s orders, cautiously surveying the layout of the front hall before curiously turning its attention to the divine bone—the object its master had repeatedly emphasized it must memorize.
On the other side of the bronze wall, at the end of the blood-filled trenches, lay an obsidian-black bone.
Though black, the divine bone—as Di Qi had called it—was translucent like jade, emitting a faint halo that gave off a sacred, soul-stirring aura.
It was beautiful.
But Four Hundred Coins didn’t like it.
An instinctive mix of revulsion and fear surged through it, making it retreat half a step.
"Who’s there?" Di Qi’s senses were sharp. The moment he spoke, a surge of spiritual energy shot toward Four Hundred Coins’ location.
In midair, golden spiritual power morphed into a coiling dragon, jaws wide open as it lunged for the puppet.
Oh no!
Li Zhuohua, who had been lying flat by the hole, immediately thrust out her Liumang Sword, sending a sharp sword slash toward Di Yanran, who stood nearby.
Di Yanran turned in surprise, parrying the strike—and almost instantly recognized the technique. "Senior Zhuohua… Li Zhuohua?"
Li Zhuohua ignored her, focusing solely on her attacks.
She could tell Di Yanran was injured—no match for her.
And strangely, as they fought, she felt like she had faced her before.
But she was certain they had never crossed blades.
As expected, Di Yanran was quickly overwhelmed, forced to retreat repeatedly until Di Qi had no choice but to split his focus to protect her.
Meanwhile, by the other hole, Wen Shuangbai coordinated seamlessly with her senior sister. Her Thousand Leaf Blades gleamed, ready to strike as she launched them at the golden dragon.
The dragon split in two—one half clashing with Wen Shuangbai, the other still relentlessly pursuing Four Hundred Coins.
The puppet’s invisibility talisman was torn apart, forcing it to reveal itself.
Wide-eyed with shock, it froze for a split second before flailing its tiny limbs in a desperate attempt to flee!
But—one of its legs was caught in the dragon’s jaws!!!
Four Hundred Coins screamed internally: AAAAAAH! Today is the day I die!
Wen Shuangbai shouted, "Dumb brush, shed your tail to survive!"
Four Hundred Coins: Oh right!
Without hesitation, the puppet snapped off its left leg, hopping away on one foot.
But soon, its right leg was gone too, followed by its arms, its head, and eventually its entire wooden shell—all shredded to pieces by the dragon.
Amid the flying wood chips and dust, a shabby, unremarkable brush shot backward at top speed, darting through the hole before landing on Wen Shuangbai’s lap and nestling against her waist, motionless.
Having its true form exposed so abruptly was mortifying—it needed a moment to recover.
In the front hall, Di Qi held the injured Di Yanran with one arm while forming a dragon-tiger seal with his other hand, deflecting Li Zhuohua and Yin Xuan’s attacks before retreating out of the Qingling Mountain quartet’s line of sight.
"So it’s the esteemed disciples of Qingling Mountain," Di Qi’s voice echoed leisurely from the hall. "I hadn’t expected to find you here as well."
Wen Shuangbai chuckled. "Yeah, didn’t expect you either."
Mid-recovery, Four Hundred Coins remembered its mission wasn’t complete. With professional dedication, it poked out a blank sheet of paper from Wen Shuangbai’s storage ring and channeled its embarrassment into productivity, sketching the hall’s layout at lightning speed.
Wen Shuangbai lowered her head, studying it intently.
Outside, Di Qi let out a light laugh. "It seems our sects share quite the fateful connection."
Xie Ziyin, who had been quietly standing beside Wen Shuangbai, glanced at the silent Li Zhuohua and Yin Xuan, then at Wen Shuangbai—already absorbed in the sketches—before replying on their behalf: "Overthinking it. That’s just your imagination."
"...Ah, Brother Xie is here too." Di Qi’s voice drifted as if he were pacing. "If you wanted the divine bone, you could’ve just fought us openly. Why lurk in the shadows like thieves?"
Xie Ziyin raised a brow. "We’d love to come out. Care to lend a hand?"
"Brother Xie jests." Di Qi remained unruffled, still moving. "I’m merely considering your reputation. The entire cultivation world is watching the Holy Tower trials. If they see Qingling Mountain acting so covertly, misunderstandings might arise."
"Won’t happen." Xie Ziyin’s expression didn’t flicker. "This is just how Qingling Mountain operates."
Di Qi: "..."
Under Four Hundred Coins’ strokes, the hall’s map took shape.
Every detail, every engraved pattern, leaped vividly onto the paper.
Wen Shuangbai scrutinized it before her gaze settled on one particular spot.
At the same time, she kept tracking Di Qi’s movements—his voice, his position, his intentions…
"He’s activating the blood sacrifice array!" Wen Shuangbai shot to her feet, gripping the map tightly. "We need to move, now!"
Unlike the two outside, the four of them were already inside the array’s range—utterly vulnerable.
If the array activated, they’d be lucky to escape with their lives.
"Too late." Di Qi glanced at the unconscious woman in his arms, his smile not reaching his cold eyes. With bloodied fingers, he pressed the array’s trigger.
The refined gentleman’s lips curled into a genteel smile. There was no escape from this tomb, from this array—even the Holy Summoning Tokens would fail here. Yet he still said, "I bear no ill will. We’re all cultivators of Xuantian. Crush your tokens and leave while you can. I’ll personally apologize once we’re outside."
Wen Shuangbai had no patience for his rambling. The killing intent of the array was already creeping into her senses.
Every instinct screamed danger, raising the hairs on her neck. She, Xie Ziyin, and the others sprinted back to the blood pool, leaping to grab the dangling iron ropes overhead.
Wen Shuangbai reattached the hook to the armor, but before retracting the rope, she gritted her teeth and hurled two Heavenly Thunder Pearls into the trenches below.
The round pearls rolled slowly toward the hall’s exit.
At that exact moment, the blood sacrifice array fully activated.
Sinister symbols crawled across the bronze walls—ghostly faces, demonic visages—twisting and pulsing with malice.
Kill! Kill! Kill!
The murderous intent took physical form, searing the eyes. Wen Shuangbai shut hers, not daring to look, and yanked the rope to ascend.
Then—the starstone at her waist suddenly split in two.
Half of it fell vertically into the blood pool below, clattering a few times before rolling away along the narrow ditch.
Wen Shuangbai turned back in surprise, instinctively wanting to retrieve it, but Xie Ziyin swiftly grabbed her arm.
Xie Ziyin: "Are you insane?"
The sudden shattering of the starstone was completely unexpected for Wen Shuangbai. She said, "But that was your starstone..."
"Forget it. You're more important than that." The overwhelming killing intent surged from all directions like a tide. Xie Ziyin had no time to explain further. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her waist and, before the bronze disc above could fully rotate, moved like a shadow, pulling Wen Shuangbai along as he chased after Li Zhuohua and Yin Xuan ahead. With all his strength, he reeled in the rope, ascending at the fastest possible speed to escape the area.
In the front hall, Di Qi held Di Yanran in his arms, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched the activation of the killing array and the divine bone forming at its center.
Everything was fate—heaven itself was aiding the Di family.
Extracting the bone required a blood sacrifice, and the four from Qingling Mountain happened to be the perfect solution to his urgent need.
Di Qi waited patiently for the divine bone to transform. Suddenly, amid the deafening roar of the killing array, a faint rolling sound could be heard—gululu, gululu—as if something was tumbling along.
His brow furrowed as he turned toward the source of the noise.
There, in the long-dried blood channel, a pitch-black pearl rolled into view, followed by half of a shattered starstone.
In the next instant, the usually composed man's expression twisted. He leaped into the air, his right hand forming a claw as he lunged for the divine bone.
But it was too late.
The starstone and the thunder pearl exploded simultaneously. A deafening boom shook the entire desert as a net of starlight spread through the underground palace, enveloping the violently trembling divine bone.
Under the dazzling radiance of the stars, Di Qi's eyes widened in fury.
---
Aboard the City Lord's airship, Shen Hefeng was leisurely cracking sunflower seeds, spitting the shells out through the open cabin door with no regard for propriety.
Suddenly, the baby-faced Taoist paused mid-bite, his gaze sweeping over the swaying, eerie grass below. He tugged at the black iron rope, only to find nothing attached to the other end.
Frowning, he resumed cracking seeds, muttering to himself, "Something's off… Really off. Did those four idiots die down there?"
Shen Hefeng kept a firm grip on the rope, his eyes fixed on the undulating grass.
The eerie grass swayed more violently now, like reeds caught in a storm.
"I'll count to seven, and then I'm leaving," Shen Hefeng declared to no one in particular. "This old man values his life—I won't wait for you lot. You better pull yourselves together!"
"Seven… six…"
The entire burial mound began to quake, the mountainside collapsing like an avalanche. Rocks, mud, and bones tumbled down, mixed with the eerie grass.
"Five… four… three…"
The tremors spread across the entire Valley of Divine Mystery, the black desert surging like waves.
Shen Hefeng stopped cracking seeds entirely, sitting up straight as he chanted, "Two… two… two… two…"
Suddenly, the black iron rope tensed. Shen Hefeng grinned and kicked the nearby mechanism into action.
Inside the airship's control chamber, Lu Jiayao stared nervously at the central formation, silently reciting the operating method Wen Shuangbai had taught him before leaving.
But then, an unexpected problem arose—a point on the scroll suddenly lit up, blinking ominously.
"Did it break?" Lu Jiayao panicked, bending over to examine the flickering dot, utterly clueless about what to do.
When misfortune struck, it never came alone.
Just as Lu Jiayao worried about the formation malfunctioning, the signal bead from the outer cabin lit up—Shen Hefeng's signal to activate the airship.
Sweating bullets, Lu Jiayao scratched his head in distress, but he didn’t dare delay. Following Wen Shuangbai’s instructions, he initiated the sequence.
The City Lord's airship responded instantly. With a thunderous roar, the vessel activated, lifting off the ground and accelerating into the sky.
---
Deep within the burial mound, boulders rained down on the four, threatening to crush them into the abyss and bury them forever.
Above, the falling rocks were relentless. Below, killing intent surged from the depths, materializing into lethal strikes that pursued them like shadows, intent on their demise.
The four fought back, but their efforts left no room to reel in the rope.
Yet, despite being trapped between these two deadly forces, not a trace of panic or fear showed on their faces—only absolute calm and resolve.
After all, they had backup above.
Sure enough, moments later, the black iron rope suddenly jerked upward, pulling the four with lightning speed as they broke free from the darkness and soared into the open sky.
Shen Hefeng sat on the airship, spitting seed shells at the ascending group. "You’re slower than turtles!" he taunted.
Wen Shuangbai climbed aboard without a word, then immediately grabbed Shen Hefeng in a wrestling hold and slammed him to the floor. "Then you must be a crow spirit!"
Li Zhuohua shook her long hair free of seed shells, tossed aside her sword, and joined the beating without hesitation.
"Ow! Ow! Is this how you treat your savior?" Shen Hefeng howled.
Xie Ziyin ignored the commotion, calmly shutting the cabin door.
Yin Xuan, meanwhile, picked up the discarded bag of seeds, found a quiet corner, and started cracking them leisurely.
Just as the five thought they had successfully completed the trial, Lu Jiayao came running in, gasping for breath. "Trouble! The airship’s lost! Wen Shuangbai, come quick!"
---
Somewhere remote in the Valley of Divine Mystery…
The Buddha Son of Shenyan Temple stood atop a trembling dune, his face streaked with blood, gazing skyward with hands clasped. "Amitabha… How strange."
He had crushed the City Lord's token ages ago—why hadn’t the damned airship come?
Beside him, the Thin monk fretted. "Senior Brother, what do we do now?"
The Buddha Son sighed. After painstakingly gathering a hundred stalks of eerie grass, he was reluctant to leave empty-handed.
He had to complete the ritual and obtain the sacred stone.
But given the circumstances, retreat seemed wise.
The Fat Buddha Son said, "Junior Brother, you go ahead. I’ll wait a little longer."
The Thin monk nodded. "Understood, Senior Brother."
The Buddha Son’s benevolent expression faltered. He stared at his disciple. "...You’d actually leave just like that?"
The Thin monk, who had already crushed his sacred token, blinked innocently.
The two monks—one fat, one thin—stared at each other.
"Senior Brother… the sacred token… it’s not working," the Thin monk stammered.
The Buddha Son’s eyes filled with pity. "Amitabha. I’m not blind. I can see that."
"...Then, Senior Brother, what do we do?" The younger monk’s voice wavered. "Are we going to die here?"
Since there was nothing in the desert worth offering prayers for, the Fat Buddha Son—who had lost three pounds in just seven days—flicked his prayer beads and gazed at a distant point in the sky. Suddenly, he chuckled cheerfully and said, "Amitabha. This humble monk has devoted his life to good deeds—surely, such a thing would not happen to me."
