Xie Ziyin climbed the celestial steps chosen by the Star Stone.
The moment he set foot on those steps, everything around him vanished, replaced by a narrow upward passage.
The passage had no light source, shrouded in darkness, save for a faint glow emanating from somewhere far above.
Xie Ziyin reached out and touched the walls on either side.
They were pitch-black as night, seemingly intangible, yet solid to the touch.
He wasn’t a craftsman, but after spending so much time with Wen Shuangbai, he had picked up a thing or two.
The walls and the passage were most likely constructed from black obsidian.
The vast starry sky he had seen below wasn’t real—it was the work of a master craftsman.
In other words, the main tower of the Sacred Tower was a celestial palace built from black obsidian and powered by formations.
Interesting.
Xie Ziyin withdrew his hand and wasted no time, ascending the starry palace at full speed.
[Looks like Qingling Mountain is going to take the crown! Xie Ziyin is moving so fast!]
[Yeah, the paths the other disciples are taking are winding and full of dangers, but his is straight up and smooth all the way!]
[This must be the path the Star Stone chose for him. The Star Stone from Star Moon Valley is no ordinary treasure.]
[Lucky him. What fortune.]
Speaking of luck, someone suddenly remembered: [What about Shen Hefeng? Is he still stuck where he was?]
[Yep, I just came from the Taoist’s side. He tried to blow up the Sacred Tower’s foundation, but it didn’t work—instead, he burned his own hair off! Hahaha! Now he’s just sitting there, resigned to his fate.]
[Talk about bad luck. I’m starting to think their sect sacrificed Shen Hefeng’s luck to boost Xie Ziyin’s!]
[One man’s misfortune, Qingling Mountain’s gain?]
[Gotta admit, that’s a brilliant strategy.]
The higher Xie Ziyin climbed, the more restless the Star Stone became.
Its glow intensified, as if resonating with the distant light ahead.
In the final few steps, the stone twisted and turned, straining against its tether, desperate to break free.
Frowning, Xie Ziyin tightened his grip. His robes fluttered as the black-haired, sharp-eyed man stepped out of the passage.
In an instant, the world opened before him.
At that moment, it felt as though he stood atop a starry peak.
Above him hung a crescent moon, so close it seemed within reach.
Silver moonlight cascaded down, bathing him in its glow.
Surrounding him were domed palaces and spherical structures forged from black obsidian, all arranged around the crescent moon.
Countless shimmering spirit threads—some bright, some dim—connected the moon to the palaces and spheres, weaving together in a tangled, spiderweb-like network.
The Star Stone in his hand thrashed even more violently.
Xie Ziyin took a moment to survey the scene, then calmly retrieved a Memory Pearl to record the sight before finally releasing the stone.
With a flash, the Star Stone blazed with light, soaring upward toward the crescent moon.
As the star ascended, a golden radiance laced with emerald-green luminescence descended, landing squarely on Xie Ziyin’s forehead.
...
Four Hundred Coins: [Shuangbai, the star is so impatient! It keeps urging Xie Ziyin to hurry, but alas, he doesn’t have me with him—he can’t hear it. Haha!]
Four Hundred Coins: [The star is cursing now. It’s mad at Xie Ziyin for holding it back, complaining that he’s wasting time recording with the Memory Pearl! But I know—that pearl was your idea. Xie Ziyin listens to you!]
Wen Shuangbai lashed out with her Fire Feather Whip, ensnaring the hidden projectiles shooting from the passage walls. The crimson spiritual energy swirling around her melted the weapons into useless slag.
She side-eyed the animated spirit brush currently clutching its own bristles in one "hand" while waving a written message at her with the other.
"Hey, you’re a brush. Remember?"
Not some 24/7 surveillance device she’d planted on Xie Ziyin.
Honestly, she was impressed it could still hear the Star Stone’s thoughts from this distance.
Four Hundred Coins: [I know I’m a brush!]
Four Hundred Coins: [Ooooh! The star is finally reuniting with its moon! It’s so happy! It even left Xie Ziyin its most precious gift—the Star’s Essence!]
Star’s Essence?
Just the name sounded valuable.
Wen Shuangbai felt genuinely happy for him.
She tucked the brush away and continued down her own path.
This route was littered with traps, hidden weapons, and unpredictable formations.
Yet Wen Shuangbai sensed that the master who designed these trials hadn’t meant to torment successors—rather, they were tests of evaluation.
Every challenge was related to craftsmanship, involving artifacts, talismans, and formations.
The difficulty lay in the creator’s ingenuity; each trial was cleverly constructed.
As a result, Wen Shuangbai progressed slowly, often pausing mid-journey to ponder solutions before advancing.
One gate after another—she lost track of how much time she’d spent here.
She knew this was a competition, that speed mattered most—secure the inheritance, claim the sacred banner.
Had this been earlier in the tournament, she might’ve rushed.
But now, she moved steadily, unhurried.
For one, she wasn’t alone. She had teammates, allies. This wasn’t a solo mission.
For another, each trial had changed her.
To pass them, she needed absolute composure. The slightest hint of impatience would be detected and exploited.
Wen Shuangbai felt as though the creator was using these trials to teach her what truly mattered in a craftsman.
Skill and power were important, yes—but mindset was everything.
On the surface of the Mystic Heaven Mirror, the green-robed woman emerged step by step from the perilous passage. Though her features remained the same, the aura she exuded had subtly shifted.
Wen Shuangbai had grown more confident, more at ease.
She reached the passage’s end, pushed open the palace doors, and stepped through—only to plunge into an endless ocean.
Waves crashed over her, saltwater flooding her nose and mouth.
She broke the surface, spitting out seawater as she scanned the horizon.
Nothing but water in every direction.
Even the sky above reflected the sea’s image.
After a moment’s thought, she retrieved materials from her storage ring and crafted a boat—only for a towering wave to smash it to splinters the second it was finished.
Wen Shuangbai: "?"
From then on, everything she created was immediately destroyed.
She seemed trapped in an aquatic prison with no escape.
But she knew one thing for certain—the master’s intention wasn’t to imprison her. There was a lesson here.
Every trial so far had been less a test and more a silent instruction.
Wen Shuangbai steadied herself and observed.
The master was a teacher who prized attention to detail—that much was clear from the earlier challenges.
She must’ve missed something.
The key lay hidden within this boundless sea.
From what she had previously attempted, no magical artifacts could exist here—anything she crafted would be destroyed the moment it took form.
Even the Four Hundred Coins lay dormant here, silent as a chicken. Though the man-eating flower bracelet and the Fire-Plume Whip remained intact, their powers were nullified.
One could say that apart from her, no external objects could function.
Apart from her.
Apart from her.
Apart from… herself.
Wen Shuangbai suddenly understood something.
When one’s hands hold no tools, perhaps the greatest tool is oneself.
Wen Shuangbai closed her eyes.
This vast ocean was a manifestation of an array.
Arrays were born from runes, and what the array outlined was the ever-present qi in the air.
She imagined herself as a boat, then began circulating the inner cultivation method within her body, refining her own qi into the shape of a vessel.
Intent follows the heart, the heart follows intent.
Meet substance with substance, cross illusion with illusion.
In the Mystic Heaven Mirror, what everyone saw was Wen Shuangbai standing dumbly in an empty hall.
But from her perspective, her consciousness had transformed into a boat, drifting across that boundless ocean until it reached a deserted island.
As the boat touched the shore and dissolved into human form, she cautiously stepped onto the small island, alive with birdsong and fragrant blossoms.
A path lined with blooming flowers stretched from the shore all the way to the island’s highest point.
On either side of the path stood lifelike stone carvings.
Wen Shuangbai recognized them.
These carvings were identical to those she had once seen in the underground palace of Tian Family Village—crafted by the same hand.
By Ye Qingrong, the senior.
The carvings in Tian Family Village depicted Ye Qingrong and her junior brother Tian Sang fleeing their sect to the village, uniting with the villagers to fight against the ghostly horrors.
But the carvings hidden on this island deep within the ocean told the story of what happened after Ye Qingrong left Tian Family Village.
Step by step, Wen Shuangbai walked through scenes that had unfolded five hundred years ago.
Ye Qingrong received a letter from her dear friend Qi Yaoling and set off alone for Zhuoguang City.
She barged into the martial arena, encountered Qi Yaoling transformed into a thousand-year-old ghostly tree, and obtained a vial of medicine from the city lord’s residence through her friend.
She traced the origins of the medicine, leading her to the city lord’s manor, where she also met Li Hanshan, who had come to Zhuoguang City in search of Qi Yaoling.
Learning that the city lord’s residence was recruiting bounty hunter teams, she and Li Hanshan traveled from place to place, persuading a group of exceptionally talented disciples from other sects—among them, the future Seven Saints of that era.
Together, they formed a bounty hunter team, infiltrating the Divine Ghost Valley to investigate the ghostly calamity and avert the catastrophe threatening the Mystic Heaven Realm.
“After enduring countless hardships, we finally found the Bone Burial Ground in Divine Ghost Valley.” Just as Wen Shuangbai was immersed in these few steps that vividly captured the peril of those times, a gentle yet steady voice suddenly spoke beside her.
Wen Shuangbai turned her head.
The phantom of a slightly plump woman appeared. Though her features were unremarkable, the moment Wen Shuangbai met her eyes, she felt an overwhelming sense of reverence—those eyes seemed to hold the vastness of the world, powerful yet compassionate.
Ye Qingrong did not look at her, lost in memories as she recounted the past bit by bit.
Wen Shuangbai did not interrupt. She took out a memory pearl, recording while listening intently to the untold history of five centuries ago.
“But we were too young, too weak back then. We failed to realize the Demon God was in seclusion there.” Ye Qingrong said. “When the Demon God emerged, we fought to the death at the Bone Burial Ground.”
“We lost many comrades. So many perished.” Ye Qingrong paused, her eyes brimming with sorrow. “Hanshan and I eventually slew the Demon God, but we alerted the city lord’s forces. With no other choice, we fled. On the run, we encountered the Star-Moon Taoist, who rescued us and brought us to Star Moon Valley, shielding us from pursuit.”
“At that time, chaos reigned across Mystic Heaven. Ghostly horrors ran rampant, and every major sect suffered heavy losses. We were outmatched, unable to confront the city lord’s forces or uncover who truly pulled the strings behind them. So we hid like cowards in Star Moon Valley.” Pain flickered across Ye Qingrong’s face. “Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Yaoling and A-Sang, and the countless others who had died. I couldn’t sleep. Then, inspired by the celestial world of Star Moon Valley, I conceived the idea of forging the Sacred Tower.”
“But finding the materials to craft it was nearly impossible.” Ye Qingrong turned and walked further up the island, Wen Shuangbai following. “Do you know? The Star-Moon Taoist was the incarnation of the Star-Moon Divine Tree. When he learned of my plan, he offered himself as sacrifice. I—”
“I did not refuse.” Ye Qingrong stopped at the highest point, gazing at the sea with unwavering resolve. “I used the divine tree to forge the tower’s body and embedded moonstones into its array.”
“Before his death, the Star-Moon Taoist divined a prophecy for Mystic Heaven. He said the Sacred Tower’s emergence would only temporarily halt the calamity. For the true mastermind remained hidden, and the demonic bones unbroken—the tower’s destruction in the future was inevitable.”
“We would not live to see that day. The completion of the Sacred Tower would mark my death, and the vanishing of the ghostly horrors would herald the deaths of Hanshan and the others.”
“So even as we forged the tower, we began preparing for the future.” Ye Qingrong continued. “We established the Mystic Heaven Tournament, leaving behind starmetal and maps in Star Moon Valley—all so our successors could fulfill our unfinished mission, honor our fallen comrades, destroy the demonic bones, and safeguard the Sacred Tower!”
“I do not know who you are.” Ye Qingrong turned, her phantom gaze meeting Wen Shuangbai’s as she smiled like an elder sister. “Nor can I see you, for all you witness now are but echoes I left behind before my death. Yet since you have come before me, I believe without doubt that you can succeed.”
“I entrust to you the blueprints of the Sacred Tower.”
Ye Qingrong raised a finger, lightly tapping the air.
In Wen Shuangbai’s mind, a long scroll unfurled.
