As he peered into the Divine Spark, Qingxin seemed to lose awareness of the world surrounding him—forgetting even Xinzi’s voice, which flew by his ears. A dreary stillness thus fell.
Faster than Xinzi, Xue Yuanshao snapped out of his torpor, fell on his knees, and kowtowed at Qingxin.
“Exalted One, I Xue Yuanshao, greet you!” Although they wouldn’t suffer much harm from doing so, the average Demon or Divine Spirit couldn’t carelessly stare into a Divine Spark—chained or not. It only felt slightly better than a mortal child staring at the sun for prolonged periods of time.
The simple fact that Qingxin could stare into Xinzi’s spark without flinching revealed that his lifeform level exceeded Xinzi himself—de facto putting him at the highest level. While he processed these facts, Xue Yuanshao realized that, for one reason or another, Qingxin planned to keep him alive—and therefore clung on his thigh like a dumped and desperate simp.
To survive, there was no indignity that Xue Yuanshao wasn’t willing to go through. To say nothing that, as a cultivator, he found no shame in kneeling before a…
“He must die.” Xue Yuanshao’s voice had barely rung that Xinzi’s followed with glaring murderous intent. It was almost as if the ancient’s words stoked the flames of Xinzi’s wrath. That wrath demanded the Xue’s head on a pike, but Qingxin wouldn’t have it.
“I insist on keeping him alive,” Qingxin said in the simple and straightforward tone characteristic of his stubborn self. His words galvanized Xue Yuanshao, who smiled even as he knelt.
“Master, though you and I disagree on most topics. Before I left the monastery for the White Immortal sect, we reached an arrangement. I do not break any of your core rules, and you do not interfere with my affairs. I haven’t harmed innocents, consumed livestock, or gorged myself on wine. So why are you meddling with my business? That man knows too much and cannot be trusted in the slightest. He must die. It’s not that deep! Master, why must you always try to ruin the inevitable?” As he spoke, Xinzi’s patience waned, and his tone grew more heated.
Throughout the Great Desolation world, there were only two people that Xinzi couldn’t help but bow to: the Hengye clan leader and Qingxin. The former left him no choice in the matter. The latter commanded his admiration. Not many could stick to their beliefs, regardless of the cataclysms that said beliefs triggered. These people often excelled at “fucking shit up.” And Qingxin was one of them. Often, Xinzi praised his master’s ability to keep a straight face in the most frustrating of circumstances. On rare occasions, however, he infuriated him to no end.
“Abbot Qingxin, before being your disciple, I am a son of the Hengye clan. Before being a son of Hengye, I am the spokesman of the Thousand-Faced God. The actions I take cannot ignore the position of the Eternal Night Dynasty. Today, you must give me a valid reason to let go of this nuisance. Otherwise, even if I don’t kill him with my own two hands, I will contact the Evernight Palace, and have them dispatch someone to take care of him.”
Unfazed by Xinzi’s ultimatum, Qingxin sneered. “What a joke. Enslavement, mutation, demonization, and the Lotus knows what else. Xinzi, you’ve only left for three years—three years—but in that tiny timeframe, managed to accomplish more misdeeds than a ragtag band of convicted felons. Yet, you still have the nerve to talk about my core rules? How many more vices must you commit before you can recognize your own madness? Xinzi, you’ve disappointed me. And I’m sure your Thousand-Faced God wouldn’t approve of his divineline being perverted by demonism.”
“This is my business. Not yours. I know what I am doing. You clearly don’t. Who are you? What are you? Need I remind you of the chaos and madness the probes and revelation of your identity can unleash on this world? Xue Yuanshao is as rotten and eccentric as it gets, is only three steps away from the truth, and you want me to let him live? Master…I refuse to go mad with you!” Xinzi didn’t mince his words, making the exchange look like a clash between patronizing brothers, instead of a master-disciple talk.
“Then I will be frank. Xue Yuanshao is a breathing treasure of the cultivation world. His mind and boldness led to countless breakthroughs. The Taiyang and Hengye clans only care for themselves, easily forgetting the importance of savants of Xue Yuanshao’s caliber to the development of our world.
Likewise, there is a chance that he can help me repair my Nascent Divinity and restore my cultivation base. For that chance alone, should I not keep him by my side? Some people are worth more alive than dead. You’ve understood this principle long ago. As for the unnecessary memories, I can remove them with a finger snap. You don’t have to worry about them spreading,” Abbot Qingxin said and raised his hand in a solemn stance.
“I pledge on your head that I will keep Xue Yuanshao in line. Knowing how much I dote on you, and how often I betray myself to indulge your sins, you should know that your head is worth more to me than 100 Qingxin,” Abbot Qingxin said with an impish smile. Unprepared for this shameless pledge, Xue Yuanshao gawked in awe. And even Xinzi—who’d long gotten used to his master’s antics—paused.
“Fine. But Xia Hu and the rest now belong to me, and I will use them however I please. For your sake, let’s hope that today’s move doesn’t blow up in your face.” The darkness pervading Xia Hu’s soul retracted into Xinzi’s Divine Spark—and the younger monk’s human form appeared before Qingxin.
For a second, the two faced each other in a staring contest. Xinzi’s calm but uncompromising look clashed with Qingxin’s relaxed smile—making Xue Yuanshao wonder if he’d not misunderstood their age and relationship.
Before the silent exchange could get more awkward, Xinzi cupped his hands and vanished from the scene. Unable to restrain himself, Xue Yuanshao breathed a sigh of relief.
Still fixed on the spot where his lawless disciple used to be, Qingxin shook his head, and a hint of sorrow flashed in his eyes. “He reminds me of someone. Can you guess who?” The senior abbot asked Xue Yuanshao.
At first, the ancient cultivator frowned, not understanding why and who Xinzi should remind him of. The young monk’s moves, speech pattern and expressions repeated in his mind—superposing with a legendary existence whose mere name made Xue Yuanshao tremble uncontrollably.
“Hengye…Wuxin! Yes…but how? Could he be his son?” The looks didn’t match. But the habits, methods and intensity that Xinzi played Xia Hu with made him look like a mirror image of Hengye Wuxin. Xue Yuanshao didn’t believe in coincidences and was willing to bet his fingers that Xinzi was somehow related to Hengye Wuxin: last God-Monarch of the Eternal Night.
“No. I knew Hengye Wuxin better than most and can vouch that he only had two children. One died too young, the other was already a world-famous powerhouse 10,000 years ago and is the most likely inheritor of the God-Child seat. Moreover, you’ve seen Xinzi’s Divine Spark. Too much for a mere candidate. On par with a God-Child, yet chained by a force directly linked to the Thousand-Faced God. Add to that his words just now and he is likely to be…”
“The Hierarch of the Night.” Xue Yuanshao finished Qingxin’s thoughts, and the senior abbot nodded in approval.
“Indeed. The position of Hierarch was merged with that of God-Monarch eons ago. But following the events of the Great Desolation war and Hengye Wuxin’s fall, it’s not surprising that the Hengye clan had to reinstate it. They likely also reinstated the Regent post and gave it to that crazy woman,” Qingxin said in a casual tone, not expecting that in Xue Yuanshao’s mind, his words echoed like rolling thunder.
“Hengye Wuxin, that peerless and invincible tyrant whose mere name made the August Divinity consider 10,000 alternatives before leaving his palace is…dead?” In Xue Yuanshao’s mind, invincibility only had one face: Hengye Wuxin.
When Taiyang Yuan inherited the August Divinity throne, Hengye Wuxin, then God-Child of the Eternal Night, swaggered into the celebration and, under the powerless gaze of the world’s eminent experts—beat Taiyang Yuan like a raggedy dog.
Without recourse, the Taiyang elders activated the Central Domain’s defensive formations, uniting to repel the one-man invasion. Still, Hengye Wuxin managed to abduct Taiyang Yuan’s betrothed—she later gave birth to his eldest son.
To this day, Xue Yuanshao couldn’t forget Hengye Wuxin’s swagger. The poise, the elegance, the feral madness, were all so firmly ingrained in his soul that, day and night, he dreamed of the God-Monarch.
But since he “perished” during the Great Desolation war, Xue Yuanshao didn’t bear witness to the war between the Eternal Night and the Central Domain, and therefore didn’t know that his lifelong idol…had fallen already.
The news struck him harder than his sister’s death. He couldn’t believe it—no, logic and emotions both refused to accept it. Throughout the Great Desolation world, who or what could threaten Hengye Wuxin?
Sensing Xue Yuanshao’s struggles, Qingxin chimed in. “Hengye Wuxin was only invincible by the Great Desolation world’s standards. Above him, there are still the Three Paradises, led by Gods, Devils and Saints that could obliterate him without much effort. He forgot his position in the hierarchy of the Four Realms—grew conceited—and rebelled against his Divine Ancestor. Naturally, he had to die. That being said, I can assure you that in his final moments, Hengye Wuxin didn’t spare you a thought. His fate shouldn’t be what preoccupies you now.”
Xue Yuanshao knew that Qingxin had no reason to deceive or enlighten him. The gap between them was just that steep. It was already kind of Qingxin to say this much. And Xue Yuanshao dared not ask for more.
“Do you really want me to repair your Nascent Divinity?” Aware that his safety depended on what he could do for Qingxin, Xue Yuanshao didn’t beat around the bush—the monk’s following words left him speechless.
“No. My Nascent Divinity is only a surface-level problem. Truth is that my very Dao Foundation has been ruined beyond repair. Those able to save me all sit at the top of the Three Paradises. As gifted as you are, you cannot possibly accomplish what even deities would struggle to.”
“Then why…”
“My unfilial disciple doesn’t have a just appreciation of your nature and genius. Even if he absorbs your knowledge, he cannot create another you. In the past, you helped your sister and brother-in-law transform their dantian into an elastic structure—thereby enabling them to cultivate as many Spiritual Drops as they wanted to in Qi Refinement. Although at the Immortal level, the impact wasn’t that significant, it still altered their destiny.
I want you to do a similar job for my disciple. Help him control and hide his demonic cultivation. Better yet, if you can, help him integrate it into more orthodox forces. Granted that I have unique methods that others in this world likely can’t replicate, but since I can tell, sooner or later, someone else will. Xinzi is my only direct disciple—no, in my eyes, he is the son I never had. Even if he goes astray and stomps on my beliefs, I can’t allow him to…self-destruct,” Abbot Qingxin said, but while his voice stayed at a level tone, for reasons that only he could understand, his eyes grew moist.
“How do you know that…” At first, Xue Yuanshao couldn’t understand why Qingxin had access to such private information. Xue Lin and Qiu Meng aside, only one person knew the details of his experiments. In fact, that person helped him more than once. When his thoughts reached this point, Xue Yuanshao saw through Qingxin’s identity. “It’s you!”
“Rubbish. Who else could it be?” Not giving Xue Yuanshao a chance to process, Qingxin snapped his fingers, erasing unnecessary memories from his new subordinate’s mind.
