Chapter 538 - 473: Chang’an!

"Shen Yi... that traitor..."

The wisp of thought, so weak it was on the verge of dissipating, pierced fiercely into the depths of Qi Yun’s heart and spirit like a red-hot iron needle. His pupils slightly constricted, but his expression remained impassive. He simply hovered quietly in the void, allowing the residual thought to drift down like a withered leaf and rest upon his palm.

A grayish-white halo flickered faintly like a candle in the wind, threatening to extinguish at any moment. Yet, the Daoist Intent contained within was like a dormant volcano—dead on the surface, but churning with terrifying power capable of boiling seas and burning the heavens.

Qi Yun looked down at the residual thought in his hand. Iridescent light swirled in his eyes as he fully circulated the Dao of the Primordial, forming a massive, intangible, yet omnipresent net that firmly enveloped the thought. He was in no rush to refine it, nor did he attempt to seal it. He merely watched it in silence.

Within the halo, broken images began to cycle faster. Towering palaces, the vast Star River, warring armored cavalry, falling gods... Countless scenes flashed before his eyes like a spinning lantern. They were so fast they felt like hallucinations, yet they bore a heart-palpitating sense of reality. It was as if these images were not mere memory fragments left in the residual thought, but a segment of history that had been forcibly sealed away and was now struggling to break free.

Qi Yun furrowed his brows, the movement barely noticeable. He could sense that the condition of this residual thought was far more complex than he had anticipated. It hadn’t merely been severed and abandoned; it had been "polluted" at its very core by an extremely brilliant and overbearing method. This pollution wasn’t a simple corrosion. It was like dropping a single bead of ink into clear water—seemingly insignificant, yet capable of dyeing the entire cup.

The Daoist Intent contained within the residual thought was no longer pure. It was mixed with a deeply hidden, sinister will that clung to the thought like a festering ulcer, so intertwined that the two could no longer be separated.

He mused to himself, "As expected... this is bait. A meticulously prepared piece of bait."

He wasn’t surprised. From the moment he decided to take the hook, he had prepared himself for all manner of traps. He just hadn’t expected this trap to be so much more exquisite than he had imagined.

The residual thought of the Dao King was undeniably genuine; it couldn’t be faked. However, that sinister will attached to it acted like an invisible thread—one end connected to the residual thought, and the other...

Qi Yun’s gaze deepened. Following the pulse of that sinister will, he slowly traced it back to its source. He peered through layers of the void, past broken stars and floating worldly debris, and across spatial rifts that had yet to fully heal from the devastation of the Slaying Immortals Sword Formation and the Grand Array of Heluo. Ultimately, his "gaze" locked onto an incredibly distant, blurred pocket of the void.

There was nothing there. Only a deep, almost solid darkness. Yet, in the deepest depths of that obscurity, Qi Yun vaguely sensed something. It was a gaze. A cold, indifferent gaze filled with condescending scrutiny, quietly watching him from the shadows.

Their eyes met. Though separated by an endless void, they felt as close as breathing.

A faint curve slowly formed at the corners of Qi Yun’s lips. "Just as I thought... it’s you."

He did not say the name aloud. But the owner of that gaze clearly understood that Qi Yun knew.

"Interesting," Qi Yun whispered, withdrawing his gaze to refocus on the residual thought in his palm.

The grayish-white halo continued to flicker weakly, and the broken images cycled faster and faster, as if urging him to act. He chuckled inwardly, "You want me to refine it? So you can exploit my vulnerability, corrode my Dao Foundation, and defile my Primordial Dao? A fine calculation."

He didn’t rush to make a move. Instead, he slowly closed his eyes and sank his heart and spirit deep into his Purple Mansion. The Dao of the Primordial Daluo circulated with full force. In an instant, the aura around him became unimaginably dense and profound. He seemed like an eternal ancient god that had existed since the dawn of creation, seated at the pinnacle of all things, overlooking the heavens.

The residual thought in his palm seemed to sense this. Its grayish-white halo suddenly trembled, and the broken images instantly froze, as if pinned down by an invisible, giant hand.

"Don’t be in a rush," Qi Yun said, opening his eyes and looking calmly at the residual thought. "I haven’t decided how to deal with you yet."

The residual thought remained silent, though its halo seemed to pulse a bit faster. Ignoring it, Qi Yun raised his other hand, spread his fingers slightly, and gently traced a line in the void.

SIZZLE!

A streak of highly condensed, iridescent chaotic light flowed from his fingertips, sketching out a primitive, intricate Dao Pattern in the void that contained the intent of Commanding All Skills. Once formed, the Dao Pattern drifted down and gently branded itself onto the residual thought.

The grayish-white halo shuddered violently before dimming at a visible rate. The broken images ceased their cycling, freezing on a final frame.

It was an ancient city. A city so towering and magnificent it defied description. Suspended within a vast, boundless Star River, it flowed entirely with the utmost noble purple-gold luster, exuding the supreme majesty of dominating the heavens and intimidating all realms. Above the main gate of this ancient city hung a plaque. Carved onto it with archaic, vigorous strokes were two large words: Chang’an.

Qi Yun’s pupils contracted slightly. Chang’an!

He was no stranger to this name. He had seen it in the Holy Sect’s voluminous ancient texts and secret records, within fragmented scrolls that had been gathering dust for untold ages. The ancient city of Chang’an. The Imperial City of the Golden Tang Dynasty. The place where the Twenty-four Imperial Soldiers were enshrined, and the supreme hall where the Golden Tang Emperor—who had unified the heavens and suppressed all realms—held court and governed the universe.

Yet now, the phantom of this grand palace had appeared within the memory fragments of a Dao King’s residual thought. What did this mean?

Qi Yun already had an answer in his heart, but he kept his composure. He retracted his finger. The chaotic Dao Pattern branded on the residual thought flared slightly before vanishing from sight. The aura of the residual thought fell completely dormant; it was like an insect sealed in amber, emitting not the slightest fluctuation.

"It’s temporarily sealed," Qi Yun muttered to himself, tucking the grayish-white halo into his sleeve.

He didn’t choose to refine it, nor did he attempt to destroy it. He simply sealed it. He knew the value of this residual thought extended far beyond this. It wasn’t just bait; it was a key. A key capable of unlocking the doors to secrets that had been buried for eternity. And those secrets might involve True Monarch Shen Yi, Demon Master Kunpeng, the World Honored One, and the true nature of this eternal chessboard.

"No rush," Qi Yun thought to himself. "Once the Mountain and River Cauldron’s spiritual nature is restored, I might be able to interrogate it for some answers."

Lingering no further, his figure swayed slightly before transforming into a faint trace of Chaotic Flowing Light. He silently merged into the depths of the void, speeding toward the Profound Yellow Origin Realm. Behind him, the fragmented void returned to a dead silence. The only thing remaining was an extremely faint, almost imperceptible chaotic iridescence slowly drifting away from where the residual thought had rested. It was like some kind of silent declaration.

In the Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple of the Wuji Holy Sect, located in the Profound Yellow Origin Realm.

Qi Yun’s figure slipped through layers of Restrictions like a phantom, landing silently in the courtyard. The Mountain and River Cauldron still hovered quietly in the corner. Nine divine dragons coiled around its body, their eyes flickering faintly as if welcoming his return.

"You’re back?" Cai Shen’s voice echoed from the cauldron, carrying a hint of relieved ease. "How did it go? That residual thought..."

"It’s sealed," Qi Yun said plainly, walking back to the dead tree and sitting down cross-legged.

"Sealed?" Cai Shen paused. "You didn’t refine it?"

"No rush," Qi Yun shook his head. "There’s something bizarre about that thing. Rashly refining it might lead to unforeseen consequences."

Cai Shen fell silent for a moment, deciding not to press the issue. He knew that if Qi Yun said so, he must have his own considerations. "Then what do we do next?" he asked.

Qi Yun didn’t answer immediately. He slowly closed his eyes and sank his heart and spirit deep into his Purple Mansion. With the Dao of the Primordial operating at full capacity, he began his deductions. He deduced the origins of the residual thought, traced the source of the sinister will attached to it, and analyzed the true motives of True Monarch Shen Yi, Demon Master Kunpeng, and the World Honored One in this grand scheme.

Countless fragmented pieces of information collided, intertwined, and reorganized within his heart and spirit. It was like a scattered puzzle slowly being pieced back together. But there was always one piece missing. The most crucial piece of the puzzle remained elusive.

Qi Yun frowned slightly, but he wasn’t anxious. He knew he couldn’t afford to be impatient at a time like this. The closer one got to the truth, the thicker the fog became. Those chess players hiding in the dark wouldn’t let him see the whole board so easily.

"Qi the Kid," Cai Shen’s voice rang out again, tinged with hesitation.

"Speak."

"While you were gone, True Monarch Shen Yi... sent another message."

Qi Yun’s eyes snapped open, a flash of chaotic iridescence darting through them. "What did he say?"

"The same six words," Cai Shen’s voice grew strained. "’The flower will bloom; the fruit will fall.’"

"And then?"

"And then... nothing."

Qi Yun fell silent. Slowly, he stood up and walked to the center of the courtyard, tilting his head back to gaze at the Celestial Vault obscured by thick clouds. Deep within the cloud layer, faint starlight peaked through. It was as weak as a dying candle flame, struggling to illuminate something but lacking the strength to do so.

"’The flower will bloom; the fruit will fall...’" Qi Yun muttered those words under his breath. The iridescent light swirled in his eyes once more as he fully mobilized the Dao of the Primordial for further deduction.

A moment later, he slowly withdrew his gaze, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Then let it bloom," he said indifferently. "Let it fall. We shall see if this blooming flower bears an immortal fruit, or... a poisonous one."

Cai Shen opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but ultimately held his tongue. He knew that once Qi Yun made a decision, he wouldn’t change it. From being a lowly Servant Disciple at the bottom of the Outer Mansion to becoming the Supreme True Monarch who governed the Primordial Dao, Qi Yun’s decisiveness to strike when necessary was the very foundation of his success.

"That’s enough," Qi Yun said, flipping his sleeves and turning around. He walked back to the dead tree and sat cross-legged once more. "Go keep your Fourteenth Brother company. Its spiritual nature has mostly recovered. Given a few more days, it should be able to operate on its own."

"What about you?" Cai Shen asked.

"Me?" Qi Yun closed his eyes, his aura gradually settling into total stillness. "I’ll wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Wait for the flower to bloom."

The courtyard returned to silence. Twilight deepened, painting the distant mountains in shades of dark ink. The Profound Yellow luster on the Mountain and River Cauldron acted like an inextinguishable lamp, illuminating the small courtyard. On the cauldron’s surface, the nine divine dragons swam slowly, the light in their eyes flickering as if watching for something.

Deep within the unknowable River of Time, upon the transcendent Longevity Immortal Island.

In front of a thatched cottage, True Monarch Shen Yi stood by the riverbank with his hands behind his back. As he gazed at the now completely settled ripples on the water, the enigmatic smile on his lips slowly widened.

"Almost..." he murmured to himself. His voice was soft, yet it carried a heart-palpitating sense of certainty. "It’s almost time."

Behind him, True Monarch Feng Xi still sat quietly on a Meditation Mat. The Cyan Gold vine in her hands had been woven into a lifelike phoenix, its feathers spread and its eyes half-closed as if in deep slumber.

Raising her eyes, she cast an indifferent glance at True Monarch Shen Yi’s back. Her gaze was as cold as frost, and she remained silent. Only an extremely faint, almost inaudible sigh slipped past her lips, drifting away with the wind into the eternal River of Time.

Meanwhile, in an even more distant and profound depth of the void.

The grayish-white residual thought sealed by Qi Yun suddenly twitched. The frozen, broken images seemed to be injected with new vitality, slowly cycling at an incredibly slow and weak frequency. Within the scenes, the towering ancient Imperial City remained suspended in the Star River.

Yet, its city gates seemed to have opened... just a sliver wider than before.