Stormy

Inside an unnamed tavern.

“Do you remember what I told you a few days ago about that funeral at Xuanling Sect?”

“Of course. The sect leader’s daughter Li Yunshang held a funeral for her dead cultivation partner, right? What about it? Did her partner come back to life?”

“Almost. But the real story is way wilder. It’s even made the front page of Shanshui News. Look! I’ve got a copy here.”

“Let me see.”

One of the men snatched the newspaper and began reading aloud:

“Shock! Why do pigs at Xuanling Sect scream at night? A thousand-year-old cultivator suddenly pregnant—Is it a twist of human nature or a collapse of morality? Today, let’s have gossip reporter Liu Yun bring you live from the front lines: Xuanling Sect inner disciple Ye Feng returns from the dead and commits unspeakable acts in front of his widow, doing that to another man!”

“Hey! Boss Zheng, did you hear? That Ye Feng isn’t dead?!”

“Yep, and they say he’s a pervert—likes women, sure, but prefers strong men even more. That day in prison, he double-teamed two innocent guards after Li Yunshang couldn’t satisfy him!”

“Is that so…”

Zheng Fei replied absentmindedly. He recalled that terrifying scene from days ago. He hadn’t slept a wink since.

So it wasn’t a ghost. Ye Feng was alive.

His lack of reaction caught the attention of his underlings. They huddled together, whispering:

“Look at Boss. Why isn’t he surprised at all? Is he really that calm?”

“Calm? Last time we saw Ye Feng here in this tavern, we thought he was a ghost, and Boss actually peed his pants. I had to wash them for him.”

“Wait… I just remembered—didn’t Ye Feng beat our boss before?”

“Yeah… and the rumor says he prefers men over women. What if… after beating him, Ye Feng forced him to do that? That’s why he’s not surprised now!”

“Makes sense!”

“Hey, what are you guys whispering about? And why are you looking at me so weird?”

“N-Nothing, Boss! We’re just… so proud of you!”

“Heh! Of course! Who am I?”

Zheng Fei replied proudly, flexing his muscles to show off.

But this time, unlike usual, his underlings didn’t respond with admiration. Instead, three pairs of eyes stared at him—filled with pity.

Zheng Fei: ?

****

In the wilderness.

On a dusty path beneath a setting sun.

Shing!

A sword flash. The bandit’s head rolled.

Two soul-bound swords returned to their sheaths.

Li Qingming, his clothes stained with blood, turned to leave—when a Shanshui News paper on one of the bandits caught his eye.

He took a swig from his cheap wine flask. Hanging from his waist was a grotesque, fat-eared head, wrapped in cloth. Blood seeped through, and the cloth over the mouth and nose rhythmically tightened and loosened—like the head was still alive, greedily breathing air.

He picked up the paper. A quick glance froze him in place.

Staring at the text, he gasped: “Ye… Ye Shidi is not dead?! Not dead… not dead…”

He mumbled, then a smile slowly spread across his face. The dark clouds over his heart dispersed. “Hahahaha! I knew that kid’s fate wasn’t to die!”

Li Qingming laughed, as if enlightened. His long-held depression vanished. The peak Golden Core境 aura around him surged, condensed, and rose.

Crack!

He broke through on the spot—into Nascent Soul境.

Whoosh~

The once-clear sky darkened as thick劫clouds gathered.

With Li Qingming’s breakthrough, the long-overdue Nascent Soul雷劫 finally arrived.

****

In Xuanzhou City, inside the most luxurious brothel.

Sun Qian had just completed his daily duty, handing over his tribute.

Compared to before, he was now much thinner—pale, with dark circles under his eyes, looking utterly worn out. He staggered off the bed and approached the dressing table.

No ox dies from overwork—only the land gets ruined.

Sun Qian stared at his weak reflection. He felt he couldn’t last much longer. Even his constant Liuwei Dihuang Pills were losing effect.

Too much use. His body had built up resistance.

But victory was near.

She said this brothel was owned by her mother. Today, he might finally meet her parents.

All for revenge.

He muttered to himself, trying to boost his morale.

One hand clutching his lower back, the other picked up the Shanshui News delivered by a maid that morning.

His eyes casually scanned it.

Clang!

A loud crash drew the attention of the woman pretending to nap on the bed.

She stepped down, stretched lazily, then wrapped her arms around Sun Qian’s neck from behind, whispering:

“Dear, why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just happy.”

“Happy?”

Before she could process it, a sudden force pushed her onto the bed.

Sun Qian dumped an entire bottle of Liuwei Dihuang Pills into his mouth, marching forward as he said:

“Let’s go again!”

Tears streamed down his no-longer-chubby face. Inside, he screamed.

Senior Brother Ye is alive!

He’s not dead!

Damn it, I’ve been a kept man for nothing! I’ve been drained dry these past days. I want to run away.

****

Sea of Forbidden Tides.

Tie Yanran, wearing a grotesque iron mask, stared at the Shanshui News sent to her through special means to keep her informed of the outside world.

Her beautiful eyes lingered on the three characters: Li Yunshang—clearly a woman’s name.

Then they shifted to the attached illustration—a half-naked man’s face.

Her delicate brows furrowed deeply.

Shing!

A blade flash.

The newspaper was shredded to pieces.

Behind her pink lips, teeth clenched. Tie Yanran’s voice burned with anger:
“That damn bastard—playing around like this outside! That despicable scoundrel!”

Waves rich with foreign Dao marks surged, splashing onto her—but were deflected by an invisible aura.

Instantly, her face turned pale. She quickly pulled out a仙spirit stone from her spatial ring, sat down on the spot to recover. The stone’s glow dimmed as its energy was drained.

After returning to her family’s sect, completing her cultivation method, and fully restoring her power—she’d find him.

Wait… that bastard would suffer.

The girl in male attire, wearing an iron mask, silently vowed.

Meanwhile, the man at the center of it all…

Xiao Yu… was dead.

Dead completely. His body lay limp like a deflated salted fish, sprawled across the table.

His once-brown eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, lifeless as a dead fish.

Back at the same tavern. The same familiar seat.

But the man’s heart had changed.