Victory Celebration Banquet

Shen Fenglin had broken through his Core and attained Nascent Soulhood within the Moon-華 Micro-realm, weathering the Ninefold Violet Heavenly Thunder Tribulation.

The moment the news broke, the universe was shaken.

To reach the ninth level of Qi Refining at eighteen was already considered being a “dragon among men” in many micro-realms. But for one like Shen Fenglin—to break his Core and form a Nascent Soul before even reaching the age of twenty—was a feat considered a once-in-a-millennium miracle, even within the Great Middle Realms of the heavens.

Such talent caused countless immortal sects to look askance. When the newly emerged Nascent Soul Ancestor announced he would hold a Consecration Grand Ceremony, various powers responded in unison, itching to dispatch envoys to present their tributes immediately.

Shen Fenglin himself seemed intent on testing the sincerity of these factions. From the release of the news to the day of the ceremony, he granted the invitees a mere ten days to prepare their gifts—a move that happened to coincide perfectly with the desperate desires of those eager to curry favor.

Ten days later, at the Moon-華 Micro-realm’s Azure Billow Immortal Pavilion.

The Azure Billow Pavilion was forged from pure sword-intent, suspended high above the isle of Yingzhou. Cultivators swarmed the site, their collective spiritual energy vast as an ocean, while tributes flowed through the gates like a never-ending stream.

Responsible for receiving guests at the ceremony was one of Shen Fenglin’s subordinates, a Water-root sword cultivator named Liuming.

The sword cultivator’s realm was merely the Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment. Yet, facing guests whose ranks far exceeded his own, he remained neither humble nor arrogant. He showed not a flicker of envy toward the rare and costly tributes; his composed demeanor led many guests to marvel secretly at his poise.

An envoy from the Jade Moon Sect presented a gift at the ritual stage. Seeing Liuming’s flat reaction, the envoy instinctively assumed the man was simply ignorant and felt a surge of disdain.

—This “Ancestor Fenglin” is nothing but an eighteen-year-old brat. If he sends a waste who took three hundred years just to reach Foundation Establishment to greet guests, what kind of “genius” can he really be?

The envoy’s heart was full of mockery, and he opened his mouth to boast, but Liuming smiled and spoke first: “Envoy of the Jade Moon Sect, offering one set of the Cloud-Shocking Azure Wave Array, a pair of Eight-Treasure Bright Moon Earrings, and three stalks of five-thousand-year-old Nine-Color Moon-Gazing Lotus. Your sect has shown great heart; this junior thanks Sect Leader Liu on behalf of my Ancestor.”

…A mere Foundation Establishment cultivator could recognize every gift and even casually identify the exact age of the Nine-Color Moon-Gazing Lotus!

The envoy froze. The surrounding crowd was even more stunned, and their respect for Shen Fenglin grew instantly.

If a nameless subordinate at the Foundation Establishment stage possessed such capability, what of the eighteen-year-old Ancestor Fenglin himself?

Seeing the guests turn solemn, Liuming maintained his proper facade, though a wave of contempt rose within him.

Look at these Golden Core “True Persons” and their lack of worldliness. A mere five-thousand-year Moon-Gazing Lotus is enough to make them act like this? Truly laughable—back in the day, the things casually tossed aside in the White Jade Capital were a hundred times better than this trash.

At that thought, Liuming’s smile faltered. A subtle, dark emotion surged in his heart.

Yes, the things that “useless beauty” with a mere Golden Core cultivation threw away like garbage were things they had to welcome with beaming smiles—things Shen Fenglin himself had to bow his head to receive…

What a disgrace.

When he thought of the man he respected lowering himself and playing the servant just for the scraps falling from Bai Yujing’s fingers, Liuming could hardly contain his burning rage.

That waste had nothing but a beautiful face. His hands held countless treasures and secret manuals, yet he knew nothing of human cultivation methods. For all these years, he had never given Shen Fenglin a single pointer on his path, only tossing him the “junk” he didn’t use.

…Such a person was a disgrace to the title of Master!

If those resources had been given directly to Shen Fenglin, then Fenglin and his followers would never be at their current lowly cultivation levels!

Liuming’s internal frustration grew, nearly cracking his polite mask.

He was exactly three hundred years old. Born with a Single Water Spiritual Root, he had only reached the Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment. For a sword cultivator, who relied on absolute martial prowess, his realm was the bottom of the barrel for someone with his talent.

But even among humans, fates differed.

Liuming forced a smile as he ushered in another guest, then his expression darkened as he looked toward the magnificent Azure Billow Pavilion behind him.

Rumor had it this pavilion was formed by a strand of sword-intent left behind by the Azure Billow Sword Sovereign before she ascended as the Human Emperor.

Liuming remembered clearly: a hundred years ago, while he was fighting for his life against ghost-cultivators in the Nine Nether Abyss, that newly crowned Empress was hosting the Great Powers of the Heavens in the Buddha Micro-realm for her two-hundredth birthday.

At that banquet, the Demon Emperor and the Immortal Sovereign—perennial enemies—called a temporary truce to act as her stewards. Ten thousand immortals came to pay homage; the entire world celebrated her. How noble she was.

Coincidentally, that woman was also exactly three hundred years old this year.

The bitterness in Liuming’s heart almost solidified into a physical weight.

…We are both humans, both Single Water Root sword cultivators. The only difference between me and that woman is that she had better luck!

If anyone were picked up by the Demon Emperor before they were a hundred and guided by the Immortal Sovereign, they too could easily climb to the throne of Human Emperor, propped up by a mountain of heavenly treasures!

But he didn’t have that luck. He could only spin in the mud like the rest of the masses, finally meeting the benefactor of his life only when his Foundation Establishment lifespan was nearly exhausted.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too late. Liuming didn’t resent Shen Fenglin for arriving late.

He prided himself on being grateful and upright; he held no complaints against the one he followed, nor would he flatter others based on their cultivation level.

A man’s knees are worth gold; he could never be as wretched as that “Human Emperor.”

—Who knows if that woman is truly the Demon Emperor’s adopted daughter, or just that old Naga’s plaything?

A Tribulation-stage snake demon who had lived for tens of thousands of years suddenly picks up a human princess as a daughter and cares for her daily… Hah, indeed, snakes are lecherous by nature. Even at the Tribulation stage, such a filthy creature is no different. It seems all snake demons in the world are the same.

However, speaking of lecherous snakes…

Having nonchalantly ushered in the last guest, Liuming looked toward the main hall, a genuine smile finally touching his eyes.

—The show is about to begin. Once that beautiful waste is forced back into his true form, will he show his lecherous nature too?

At the ceremony, celestial music drifted through the air, and distinguished guests gathered like clouds.

At the center of a star-river formed by ten thousand sword-intents, a Golden Core music-cultivator in colorful robes played the zither and danced.

Su Jiu-shao sat at the head of the guest section representing the Su family, but she was in no mood for the performance. Instead, she couldn’t help but look at the person sitting in the very last seat.

—In the past, Shen Fenglin was always reluctant to reveal Bai Yujing’s identity to outsiders. Why is he willing to let him appear here today?

A sense of foreboding rose in Su Jiu-shao’s heart, mixed with a faint trace of guilt that made her frown.

She wasn’t the only one watching Bai Yujing. Many cultivators stole frequent glances at the breathtaking beauty. Seeing that he only had a Golden Core cultivation and was relegated to the bottom seat, they assumed he was either a rogue cultivator without a sect or someone allowed in only because of a past connection to Ancestor Fenglin.

At that thought, several people began to harbor certain subtle, unsavory intentions.

“…”

The disgusting divine senses of flies hovered around him. Bai Yujing paused his wine cup mid-air, then took a light sip. For the sake of his “beloved” disciple’s reputation, he remarkably held his temper.

Shen Fenglin’s smile never wavered. It was as if he didn’t see the leering gazes; he didn’t lift a finger to stop them. He even proactively introduced his subordinates to the distinguished guests, pointedly skipping over Bai Yujing every time.

To him, this ceremony was a meticulously woven public execution. Shen Fenglin was savoring the thrill of the power reversal, basking in the feeling of looking down from above.

Yet, that seemingly shrewd beauty appeared completely oblivious to the foul play unfolding around him.

Su Jiu-shao pursed her lips and looked away from Bai Yujing, turning her gaze toward the young genius on the high platform.

The Sect Leader of the Changming Sect had already sent down the decree, ordering them to prepare for the “Demon Offering Ceremony” as soon as possible. Because of this, Shen Fenglin’s demand for an Inner Disciple position was practically guaranteed.

And according to Shen Fenglin’s promise, Su Jiu-shao—as the “hero” who made this possible—would also rise rapidly, no longer confined to this narrow cage of a realm.

But… for some reason, Su Jiu-shao wasn’t happy.

The cultivation world respected only the strong. She had poisoned her brothers and killed her father to get here; she never claimed to be a good person.

Yet, at this most inappropriate moment to feel soft-hearted, she couldn’t help but think of her own mother—a beautiful, fragile woman who had spent her whole life devoted to a husband and children.

That poor little “snake beauty” was just as blind as her mother had been in her youth.

He had given his all, nurturing his disciple for ten years as if his life depended on it, wishing he could turn his own blood into nectar to feed the boy—never realizing he was raising a wolf.

Now that their realms were reversed, only a fate of having his scales peeled, his heart carved out, and being turned into a plaything awaited him…

Su Jiu-shao finally closed her eyes with determination, refusing to look at the bottom seat again.

The banquet continued with songs and dances. Bai Yujing remained unaware of anyone’s pity.

He just held his cup, frowning amidst the chaotic, vulgar divine senses, drinking his wine with annoyance.

They say drinking to drown your sorrows only makes them worse, but after a few cups, the disgust and irritation in Bai Yujing’s heart actually faded slightly.

Right then—whether it was an alcohol-induced hallucination or the Azure Billow Pavilion finally recognizing him through his disguise—familiar sword-intents swept in from all directions, affectionately wrapping around him.

The water-like sword-intent refused to leave, huddling against him like a fledgling bird. Bai Yujing’s heart softened, and he couldn’t help but think of his days in the Great Realms, raising a little princess while being worshiped by ten thousand demons.

Putting aside a certain uninvited bastard who always criticized his parenting skills, those had been truly triumphant days.

Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last, and soon…

Bai Yujing took a sip of cold wine. Watching the dancing female cultivators in the distance, his mind drifted to the events of a century ago.

Back then, Qing羽 had just broken into the Tribulation stage. In that same year, every Tribulation-stage powerhouse felt a strange, inexplicable terror deep within their souls—

Do not ascend… Do not ascend…! Do not ascend…!!

That eerie thought haunted the minds of every Tribulation cultivator, torturing them like a curse until they were nearly driven mad.

Because of this, the Saintess of the Phoenix Clan, though at the Great Perfection of her stage, did not hesitate to undergo Nirvana and turn back into an egg. The Great Asura King, half a step from immortality, preferred to hack off his own horns.

Humans, Demons, Asuras, Ghosts, Spirits, and Witches—the Great Powers of the six races used every means at their disposal to “perish” one after another.

In the end, of the eighteen Tribulation-stage experts, only three remained.

They were the Demon Emperor Bai Yujing, the Human Emperor Song Qing羽, and… a certain bastard who, despite being from the Spirit race, held the title of Immortal Sovereign.

Then, the Demon Emperor and the Immortal Sovereign fought on the Wilderness Plains. The two had always been evenly matched, their past conflicts never yielding a victor. But during that battle, the Demon Emperor “tragically” fell to his rival’s underhanded scheme in front of everyone.

The news shook the heavens and stunned a thousand worlds.

The Immortal Sovereign’s image—hard, lethal, and so righteous it was almost sinister—suffered a subtle crack after that victory.

At the memory, Bai Yujing couldn’t help but curl his lips, taking a joyful sip of wine.

Fleeing mid-battle hadn’t been his original plan, but in the heat of the fight, he had suddenly sensed the aura of his benefactor’s reincarnation.

Bai Yujing had long suspected something was wrong with “Ascension,” and had planned to find a chance to hide his cultivation and investigate. He hadn’t expected everything to happen at once… so a certain someone just had to be the unlucky scapegoat.

Still, ruining the reputation of a certain “honorable” Immortal Sovereign before running away counted as one of the few true pleasures in this bitter sea of life.

The smile on Bai Yujing’s face deepened, causing even Shen Fenglin to steal a few glances at him.

But soon, the heavy memories of the past flooded back, washing away the alcohol’s warmth and dimming his smile.

A century ago, almost at the same time that thought appeared, Bai Yujing had vaguely sensed a pitch-black net hanging over the sky. It was suffocating; it felt as if the moment one ascended, they would be walking straight into a trap, falling into eternal damnation.

He had discussed this with other Tribulation cultivators, but the conclusion was always the same: it seemed only he could perceive that mysterious “net.”

Unlike the cunning Fox tribe or those naturally lecherous plant spirits, Bai Yujing, as a snake, never liked using his head much. Rather than conclusions drawn from calculations, he trusted his instincts.

And his instincts told him that the answer to Ascension was not in the clouds, but in the dust of the mortal world.

So he had retracted his sharp edges and sunk into the mundane world—yet everything had gone against his wishes.

The somber memories faded as the music ended, followed by a burst of immortal light as the feast officially began.

Amidst the noisy celebration, Bai Yujing, having emerged from his reverie, felt a sense of listlessness. He yawned, his eyes dropping boredly to his wine once more.

Over these last ten years, regarding the matter of Ascension, he had gained absolutely nothing.

He didn’t know if that mysterious net truly existed, nor did he know where that thought haunting the Tribulation cultivators had come from.

His hiding of his cultivation had essentially been nothing more than plugging his ears; the clues he hoped to find remained invisible.

Just as the once-arrogant Bai Yujing was grinding his teeth over the failures of the last decade, something happened. Whether it was a coincidence or his imagination, the air in the hall was perfectly still, yet a tiny, subtle ripple—like a swallow returning to its nest—appeared in his wine cup.

“…”

Bai Yujing froze. He frowned, sensing the spiritual fluctuations around him.

An illusion?

…No, it wasn’t!

Bai Yujing’s expression turned cold instantly. He snapped his head up to look at his surroundings.

In that exact moment, the sword-intent surrounding the Azure Billow Pavilion changed.

The “Azure Billow” intent that had been lingering around Bai Yujing like a tide vanished in a heartbeat. Around the pavilion, only a cold, lifeless killing intent remained.

It was as if all the previous attachment and reluctance had merely been a farewell. Now, the master of that sword-intent had truly departed.

Even with his Tribulation-stage cultivation hidden, Bai Yujing realized the truth from that single detail—Song Qing羽 had ascended.

He didn’t even have time to worry for the child he had raised. As the Human Emperor ascended, something between heaven and earth went completely dark.

The murky black net, having swallowed its last mouthful of flesh, seemed to have finally filled its last gap. It completely shrouded the sky.

Darkness swept across the world like a tide, forcing the last desperate glimmer of light into this final corner.

Danger followed like a shadow. With nowhere to run, that speck of light dove headlong into Bai Yujing’s wine cup, transforming into a ripple.

Bai Yujing looked down, staring intently at the surface of the wine.

Everyone else in the pavilion was still immersed in the celebration; it was as if everything was just Bai Yujing’s hallucination.

【Drink… it…】 【Drink… it down…】 【Drink it down!】

What is that voice?

【Please, I beg you… there’s no time, save me!】

…A child?

A trembling, incoherent child’s voice rang out in Bai Yujing’s mind. Under normal circumstances, even as thick-headed as he was, he would have realized something was wrong.

But right now, he felt as if he were wrapped in a nightmare. His mind was filled with the irritation of the crowd and a reflexive urge to protect a child.

【Save…】

…Fine, stop nagging, you’re too loud!

Bai Yujing impatiently picked up the cup and drained it in one gulp.

The last golden light of heaven and earth slid down his throat with the wine.

And then, the world went quiet.