The Ancient Street of the City was a chaotic tapestry of eras. Here, merchants peddled broken tiles from the Desolate Era, and cultivators gambled their lives on stones that might contain nothing but dust. The noise of the main thoroughfare was a constant, thrumming roar of haggling and spiritual fluctuations.
Ling Feng and his group had just turned off the main street into a slightly quieter, shadowed lane, seeking a moment of respite. The sun dappled through the ancient eaves, casting long shadows.
"Little Sister Chen."
The voice was clear, deep, and carried a resonance that seemed to vibrate the very dust in the air.
The atmosphere instantly thickened, as if the gravity in this narrow alley had suddenly doubled.
A group stepped into view from the opposing end of the lane, their robes fluttering despite the lack of wind. At their head walked a young man clad in ornate, flowing armor that shimmered with a faint, earthen luminescence. His shoulders were broad, his posture rigid, and his expression resembled a solitary mountain peak: unyielding, proud, and looking down on the world from a great height.
It was Saint Child Bao Zhu. The Prime Descendant of the Jewel Pillar Sacred School. A war fanatic and the bearer of a Grand Completion King Physique.
His entourage wore the distinct colors of the Jade Valley Country and the Jewel Pillar Sacred School. Upon seeing Chen Baojiao standing intimately beside Ling Feng, several of the older cultivators behind the Saint Child tightened their expressions, their eyes flashing with a mix of disdain and possessiveness.
Beside Ling Feng, Chen Baojiao's enchanting smile vanished instantly. Her body stiffened, a subconscious reaction to years of suppression, before she forcibly straightened her spine. Her phoenix eyes turned cold, frost gathering in her gaze.
"Saint Child Bao Zhu," she said, her voice flat and devoid of the warmth she showed Ling Feng. "What business do you have blocking this princess's path?"
Bao Zhu's heavy brows drew together. He did not look at Ling Feng; his gaze was fixed solely on her, heavy with the weight of a senior disciplining a junior.
"Little Sister Chen," he said, his voice sonorous, each word carrying the conviction of a man who believed himself the sole arbiter of righteousness. "The elders of the School and the Jade Valley Country are greatly concerned. They have charged me to persuade you to return. The Jewel Pillar Sacred School is your foundation. Your ancestors shed blood for its glory. How can you… discard it for a declining sect in a remote corner of the world?"
Only then did his eyes briefly sweep over Ling Feng. The pressure in his gaze was tangible—a mental assault that would have forced a weaker cultivator to their knees. He had watched Ling Feng at the Burial Ground; he knew this man was not simple. But Bao Zhu's pride was forged in the confidence of his physique. He would not retreat.
"The Heavenly God Sect has already sent word," Bao Zhu continued, his tone softening slightly, assuming he was offering a great benevolence. "They are willing to overlook past grievances. As long as you return and marry the next Heavenly God Dao Child, your status will surpass all others. With such backing, your future will be limitless. Why persist in this foolishness?"
Ling Feng stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning slightly to one side. He noted the wording. 'Next Heavenly God Dao Child', huh? It seemed the idiot he had thrown into the Evil Infested Ridge in a broken state either never found his way out or died a miserable death.
'Good riddance,' Ling Feng thought. 'Trash usually takes itself out.'
Beside him, Chen Baojiao laughed.
It was not a pleasant sound. It was sharp, edged with years of accumulated humiliation and anger. It was the sound of a blade being drawn.
"Foolishness?" Her voice was cold as the biting wind of the northern glaciers. "When this princess was at the Evil Infested Ridge, the Heavenly God Dao Child merely made a fool of himself. The Jade Valley Country and Jewel Pillar Sacred School only thought of their political alliance. Not a single one of you treated me as a living person with dignity. Now that I have left, you still dare to talk to me about 'backing'?"
Color climbed up Bao Zhu's neck. He was not used to being spoken to this way. "Little Sister, those matters were… complicated. The Sacred School has nurtured you since birth. You cannot—"
"I destroyed my own Dao Foundation to cut off that cause and effect!" Baojiao snapped, her voice rising. "The moment I walked away from Jewel Pillar, there was no more 'Little Sister' for Saint Child Bao Zhu to call."
Her slender fingers curled around the bronze bangle Ling Feng had given her. A warm, electric current—Chaos-enhanced vitality—surged gently along her meridians. It was a stark contrast to the cold calculation of her former sect. It reminded her that she was no longer a pawn.
Bao Zhu's gaze turned heavier, the air around him beginning to distort. "You have been bewitched by this person," he said, finally locking eyes with Ling Feng. "Cleansing Incense Ancient Sect… no, even if he were the reincarnation of an Immortal Emperor, you cannot tie your fate to a single man's whim. The Jewel Pillar Sacred School's path is the path of Immortal Physiques. Only there can your Tyrannical Valley Immortal Spring Physique shine without limit."
Ling Feng yawned. It was a loud, unsuppressed yawn that shattered the tense atmosphere.
He scratched his ear with his pinky finger, looking utterly bored. "Are you done? Bro, you're blocking the road. That's a traffic violation."
Bao Zhu's pupils shrank. The disrespect was palpable. "You are Ling Feng?"
"Yup. The guy causing the storm. Local anomaly. At your service." Ling Feng smiled lazily, a lopsided grin that didn't reach his eyes. "I already re-built her Dao Foundation. I fixed the damage your people forced her into. And I gave her a future way more interesting than playing house with some arrogant Heavenly God mascot. You want her back? Sorry, not happening. Now, fuck off."
"Presumptuous!" one of the Jewel Pillar elders barked, his beard trembling with rage.
"Watch your mouth, junior! You dare speak to the Saint Child this way?"
Bao Zhu raised a hand, signaling them to be silent. His gaze was now sharp as a divine blade.
"Ling Feng," he said slowly, each syllable dropping like a stone. "Your feats at the Burial Ground have indeed shaken the Grand Middle Territory. However, this world is vast. Do not think that killing a few Royal Nobles makes you invincible. Today, this Bao wishes to see what kind of ability you possess to dare snatch people from the Jewel Pillar Sacred School."
Ling Feng waved him off like he was shooing a fly. "Not interested. Go flex in front of someone who cares. We're on a date. You're ruining the vibe."
The vibe.
Being ignored like that—as if his Grand Completion King Physique and his status as a Saint Child were nothing more than background noise—made a vein pulse violently in Bao Zhu's forehead. He was not a brainless fool; he knew Ling Feng was dangerous. But retreating here, in front of so many gazes and in front of Baojiao, would carve a scar on his Dao Heart that might never heal.
He took a deep breath. His aura erupted.
BOOM!
The street shuddered violently. The ancient paving stones, which had withstood eras of wear, cracked beneath his feet. Behind Bao Zhu, a phenomenon manifested—a towering sacred mountain, phantom peaks overlapping one another, rising into the clouds. The air became heavy as lead. It was the imposing aura of a Grand Completion King Physique, rolling out like a tsunami.
Lesser cultivators nearby staggered back, faces pale, feeling as though their chests were being crushed by boulders.
"Little Sister," Bao Zhu said, his voice sounding like grinding millstones. "This Bao will show you that following this person is a mistake."
He stepped forward. His palm rose.
It was a simple motion, but it carried the weight of a collapsing mountain range. This was a strike meant to suppress, to crush the spirit and body alike. In the original timeline, this was the strike he had prepared for Li Qiye—a blow filled with the absolute confidence that his physique could flatten kings and devils.
He did not get to complete it.
Chen Baojiao moved.
She did not step; she flowed. Her figure blurred, propelled by the Chaos-enhanced Violent Cloud Chant and the explosive resilience of her Immortal Spring Physique.
Ling Feng's Chaos Force didn't just strengthen her; it fundamentally altered how she interacted with physics. For a split second, friction and air resistance ceased to exist for her.
One step. She was instantly in front of him—faster than his eyes could track, faster than his Divine Sense could lock onto.
"Enough," she said.
Her palm struck his chest.
It wasn't a fancy technique. There were no complex Dao Laws woven into flowers, no drawn-out chants. It was just sheer, overwhelming kinetic force. A Half-step Ancient Saint's physique, amplified by the alien, reality-breaking density of Ling Feng's Chaos Force, colliding head-on with a King Physique.
BANG!
The impact sounded like a thunderclap detonating at ground level.
Bao Zhu's sacred mountain phantom didn't just fade; it shattered like glass hit by a sledgehammer. The heavy earthen aura was blown apart by a shockwave of violent wind.
"Urgh!"
Bao Zhu was hurled backward. His boots carved deep furrows into the stone street as he skidded, sparks flying. He was driven back dozens of zhang, smashing through a stone stall before barely managing to plant his feet.
He coughed, his face flushing red as his Qi and blood churned violently within him.
His eyes were wide, filled with disbelief and shock.
"You…" He looked at Baojiao, truly seeing her cultivation for the first time. The energy radiating from her was not just powerful; it was terrifyingly pure. "Half-step… Ancient Saint…? How is this possible?"
Only a short while ago—by the measure of cultivators who counted time in centuries—she had been a princess with a ruined foundation, destined to be a cripple. In his understanding, even with the Jewel Pillar Sacred School's full resources, it would have taken a hundred years of bitter cultivation to climb back to her former level.
Yet now? Her aura was like a volcano sealed in human form. The vitality flooding from her physique dwarfed the brilliance of his own King Physique. It was a suppression of quality, not just quantity.
Baojiao shook her hand once, as if shaking off dust. Her expression was serene, regal.
"Saint Child Bao Zhu," she said coldly. "Your goodwill, this princess understands. But your path and mine parted the moment I left that school. Following Ling Feng, every day I see a broader sky than Jewel Pillar could ever give me."
She took a deliberate step back, standing just slightly in front of Ling Feng, declaring her position to the world. She was his sword; she was his shield.
"With him," she said, her eyes blazing with a fierce light, "I can open my own heavens. Why would I go back and be a pawn in someone else's marriage alliance?"
Bao Zhu's face was pale and flushed by turns, humiliation and unwillingness warring in his eyes. The entourage behind him was deathly silent, terrified by the explosive display of power.
But Bao Zhu was not a fool. His physique had always been his greatest pride; to be so easily repelled in a direct clash told him enough. To continue now would be to seek death.
He lowered his hand slowly, forcing his roiling blood to calm.
"…The mountains do not move," he said hoarsely, his voice heavy with suppressed emotion. "The rivers continue to flow. Today, I am not your match. However, the path to the Dao is long. One day, I will stand before you again."
He turned, his robe swirling, and walked away. His back was stiff, his shoulders straight. Even in defeat, he refused to bend his spine. He retained the bearing of a Saint Child, though the invisible wound on his Dao Heart would ache for years to come.
Ling Feng watched him go, then shrugged.
"Not completely hopeless," he commented, his tone casual again. "He knows when to retreat. It's a shame his school's higher-ups are trash. Toxic culture really ruins the talent, doesn't it?"
Baojiao let out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The tension left her frame. Some old, calcified knot in her chest loosened as she watched Bao Zhu's back recede. She had finally outgrown the shadow of her past.
She turned to Ling Feng; her eyes softening. "Young Noble," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Just now… thank you for letting me handle it."
Ling Feng reached out and gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His touch was warm, grounding.
"It was your past, Baojiao," Ling Feng said, his smile genuine and devoid of his usual mockery. "Your cause and effect. Me stepping in would be trivial. But you stepping out of it yourself? That's what makes the future different. I'm proud of you."
Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. She didn't answer with words—she simply stepped closer, her shoulder pressing firmly against his, a silent vow of eternal loyalty.
....
Word of the Underworld River event had already stirred the city, but another phenomenon was drawing attention on the Ancient Street today.
"A stone chest even an Emperor's Possession cannot open…"
"The Unopenable Stone Chest… they say even Bai Jianzhen of the Divine Sword Sacred Ground tried a strike and failed, ah!"
Ling Feng heard the whispers before he saw the crowd.
A dense ring of people had formed around a particular stall. In the center sat a grey-haired old man. He looked unremarkable, dressed in coarse linen, but his eyes were cloudy yet deep, like abysses that had swallowed eras. Before him rested a simple, ancient stone chest.
Its surface was rough, covered in natural patterns that resembled the flow of water and the shifting of clouds. There was no keyhole, no seam, no visible mechanism—yet no one could open it.
Even cultivators who knew nothing of history understood that this "Unopenable Stone Chest" was a legend.
Ling Feng's eyes lit up.
"Ah," he murmured. "There you are."
Li Shuangyan, ever the sharp observer, noticed the shift in his demeanor. "Young Noble has seen this item before?"
"In a manner of speaking," he replied enigmatically.
He stepped through the crowd without hesitation. "Excuse me, coming through. Watch the toes."
The murmurs died down as people recognized the group. The way parted before him as if cut by a blade; the scent of blood from the Underworld River still seemed to cling to his reputation.
The old man's cloudy eyes flicked up. A faint, almost imperceptible interest stirred within those ancient depths.
"This little friend wishes to try his luck?" he asked, his voice hoarse and dry, like old parchment crumbling.
Ling Feng smiled, crouching down to be at eye level with the chest. "Grandpa, this stone chest—other people can't open it, no matter how they try. Even if they bring out Emperor words or Virtuous Paragon treasures, it stays shut, right?"
The old man narrowed his eyes. The description was too accurate. Too confident.
"That is so," he admitted slowly. "Since the Difficult Dao Era, many have tried. All have failed."
"Mm." Ling Feng tapped the stone surface.
To ordinary vision, it was just an oddly tough, oddly secretive box. But to Ling Feng's Chaos Sense, augmented by the Master Emerald residing in his Niwan Palace, it was something else entirely.
It was a node. A convergence point of karmic threads. He could see the structural integrity of the reality around the chest. It wasn't locked by a key; it was locked by a fixed point in destiny.
Ling Feng placed his palm lightly on the stone.
Hum.
The Green Chaos Emerald in his Inner Void spun. Space Control.
The veins on the chest's surface lit up, ever so faintly, like starlight shining through thick storm clouds. Inside the stone, ancient seals creaked. It was a sound not heard in millions of years—a groan of metaphysical machinery responding to a key that shouldn't exist in this universe.
Crack.
A clear sound echoed. Hairline fractures appeared on the chest's conceptual lock, though the stone remained smooth.
The crowd collectively held its breath. The silence was deafening.
"Is… is he really opening it!?"
"Impossible! Even Emperor Possessions failed! Who is this kid?!"
Ling Feng's eyes narrowed. The pathways branched before him. He could force it. One more push of Chaos Force, and the chest would pop open, revealing the small golden coffin within—the item this old golem cherished above all else.
But Chaos Force was not bound to this world's linearity. He saw further. He saw the old man's identity—a guardian of the Earth Realm. He saw threads connecting this chest to future opportunities, to the Nine Worlds' protection. Opening it now would be… rude. And boring.
He exhaled and pulled his hand back.
The faint light on the chest's veins dimmed. The "almost opening" sensation retreated. The locks knitted back together—but not quite the same as before. Ling Feng had left a backdoor. A subtle groove in the karmic structure, like a pre-cut line on a package, ensuring that he, and only he, could slide it open effortlessly later.
He was, in a sense, marking his territory.
"You…" the old man breathed. His facade of senility cracked. Genuine emotion flickered in his eyes. "Little friend… you could open it."
"I could," Ling Feng agreed, standing up and dusting off his hands. "But I won't. Not today. Gotta save some mystery for the second date, right?"
He straightened his robe. "I'll take the chest as is. Name a price, Grandpa."
The old man stared at him, studying his bone structure, his soul, his odd lack of fear. Then, suddenly, he laughed. It was an old, raspy sound, like wind howling through a canyon.
"Interesting… interesting!" he muttered. "Fine. Fine! Since Little Friend can do what others cannot, this old bag of bones will be generous once."
He named a price. It was exorbitant. It was enough to make a sect master of a minor power cough up blood and die of distress.
Ling Feng didn't even blink. He tossed out a storage pouch. It landed with a heavy thud, the aura of dense, pure Spirit Stones radiating from it instantly making several onlookers' eyes turn red with jealousy.
"Keep the change," Ling Feng said.
The old man pushed the chest toward him with a long, knotted hand.
From the edges of the crowd, representatives of great powers watched with darkening expressions. Among them, a figure from Trample Emptiness Mountain silently clenched his fists. The script had been disrupted.
Ling Feng patted the stone chest once more, sending a final whisper of Chaos Force into it—a GPS tracker made of energy.
As Xu Pei and Baojiao carefully stored the heavy item away, Ling Feng turned and flashed a charming grin at the mysterious old man.
"Grandpa, if you ever need help opening things… jar lids, ancient seals, hearts… you can look for me."
The old man's eyes gleamed with a predatory light.
"Little friend has a wondrous bone structure," he said, half-muttering, half-tempting. "Heavenly talent… Immortal Physique, Immortal Fate… My sect has incomparably profound techniques. If you were to acknowledge me as master, this old man would…"
"Nope," Ling Feng cut him off instantly. "Already have my own way of doing things. No masters, no rules. But I appreciate the thought. Catch you later."
Laughter rippled through the crowd, nervous but genuine. Who rejects a hidden expert so casually?
But the important figures in the shadows grew even more wary. Someone who could casually open the Unopenable Stone Chest… someone the old monster himself was tempted to recruit… and that same someone had just massacred Royal Nobles beside the Underworld River.
This youth was not just a genius. He was a walking calamity.
They had barely taken a few more turns through the Ancient Street when a wave of noise surged from the central plaza ahead. It was a commotion far louder than the one at the stone chest.
"The Heavenly Sky Plate!"
"Arcane Guru has actually brought out the Heavenly Sky Plate!"
"Only those recognized by the Plate can approach it, ah. The Qi pressure there… even Ancient Saints will find it difficult to draw near!"
Ling Feng's eyes flickered with interest.
"Heavenly Sky Plate, huh?" He glanced at Li Shuangyan, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Let's go see what the fuss is about. Time to punch above our weight class again."
The plaza was already packed when they arrived. In the very center, upon a raised stone platform, a simple ancient wooden box floated half a meter off the ground. But from its narrow opening, endless starlight spilled out, coalescing above into a slowly rotating galaxy.
It was the manifestation of the Heavenly Sky Plate's Dao. Phantom images of suns and moons rose and fell within that miniature universe. Grand Dao laws braided together like rivers of mercury.
The pressure was suffocating.
It was a test of destiny, of the Mandate of Heaven. Even peak Royal Nobles on the periphery found it difficult to breathe, their chests heaving. Those below that realm didn't even dare step onto the plaza stone for fear of their meridians bursting.
Only a handful of figures—geniuses from the Heavenly Jewel Kingdom, prodigies from the Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom, envoys from Mysterious Bamboo Mountain, and the elites of the Heavenly God Sect—stood on the inner ring, their faces locked in solemn, sweating concentration.
Ling Feng's group approached.
The oppressive power of the Heavenly Sky Plate swept over them like a tide. To the cultivators, it was like stepping into a crushing sea, a test of their Dao Heart and cultivation.
To Ling Feng, it felt different.
The Master Emerald in his Niwan Palace pulsed faintly.
Scanning.
Chaos Force didn't bow to the Dao; it analyzed it. To Ling Feng, the crushing pressure felt like walking into a room with really loud music. Annoying, but manageable. He saw the "code" of the suppression—a frequency of energy meant to deter the unworthy.
Translation complete.
Chaos Force automatically adjusted his personal reality field, neutralizing the pressure. He walked forward as if strolling through a park.
A Heavenly God Sect elder, standing guard near the inner circle, saw them approaching. His face twisted into a sneer when he saw the casual way they walked, seemingly disrespecting the solemnity of the artifact.
"Stop!" he barked, stepping into their path, his aura flaring up. "This area has been reserved by my Heavenly God Sect and the Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom. Without credentials, you may not approach! Scram!"
Ling Feng, Li Shangyuan, Chen Baojiao, and Xu Pei didn't even break stride. They continued forward, the distance closing rapidly.
The Heavenly God elder was incensed. He raised his wide sleeve, Qi gathering in his palm, intending to unleash a suppressing blow. He had no intention of truly harming them—that would cause a war—but he intended to push them back violently to show "proper order" and humiliate them in front of the other great powers.
"Know your place, jun—"
He never got to raise his hand fully.
Li Shuangyan stepped forward.
Her movement was elegant, cold, and precise. Her hand moved like lightning, her palm arcing in a perfect, clean motion.
PA!
The crisp sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed across the entire plaza, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.
The Heavenly God elder felt the world tilt on its axis. His protective Qi was bypassed completely by the strange, dense energy coating Li Shuangyan's hand. He was sent spinning off the platform like a broken kite, crashing into the stone tiles ten meters away.
Gasps rippled outward like a shockwave.
"Li Shuangyan!" someone exclaimed in horror. "Nine Saint Demon Gate's Prime Descendant… her aura… she struck a sect elder!"
Her Fate Rebelling Noble cultivation, combined with the Chaos-tempered Pure Jade Physique, radiated a sharpness that rivaled an early Ancient Saint. Under the Heavenly Sky Plate's crushing pressure, she stood tall, an ice goddess unbent by the heavens.
Another Heavenly God expert, seeing his martial brother humiliated, lunged toward her in a blind rage. "Witch! You dare!"
Chen Baojiao blurred.
She didn't use a technique. She used resentment.
Her slap exploded like a thunderclap. Years of being looked down upon, of being treated as a bargaining chip by these very people, flowed into that single strike.
BAM!
The man flew even further than his fellow elder. He spat a mouthful of blood and broken teeth in midair before wrapping around a stone pillar with a sickening crunch.
Silence fell over the plaza. Absolute, terrified silence.
The representatives of the Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom and Mysterious Bamboo Mountain exchanged glances, their wariness deepening into genuine fear. They had already been cautious because of Ling Feng; now they realized the women around him were no longer just "decorations" or "vases." They were monsters in their own right.
Ling Feng stopped. He looked at the two groaning elders, then scanned the faces of the shocked geniuses around the ring.
He smiled pleasantly, looking like a college student asking for directions.
"Anyone else want to play gatekeeper?" he asked, his voice light but carrying to every corner of the plaza. "No? Good."
He gestured to the Heavenly Sky Plate.
"Then don't block the view. We're here to do some sightseeing."
He turned his back on the elites of the Grand Middle Territory, focusing solely on the swirling galaxy above the box.