Chapter 164: Ning Changyuan’s Melancholy

Whether the attackers were holding back or simply too weak to make a dent remained a mystery. Regardless, the Golden Geng Glazed Formation stood immaculate.

Unless a Golden Core cultivator personally descended to strike, this turtle shell wasn’t cracking. Even if every Foundation Establishment cultivator in Yellow Wind Valley bombarded it simultaneously, it would hold for at least another six hours.

Time slipped away amidst the chaotic symphony of spells and shouting outside.

The next morning, dawn broke over the eastern ridges.

As the first rays of sunlight pierced the valley, the three-hundred-year Moonless Night officially came to an end. The golden ancient characters on the Enlightenment Stele dimmed, the mystical Dao Rhyme fading into the ether until the artifact returned to the appearance of a simple, weathered stone.

The slaughter had raged until the very end. It wasn’t until two hours before sunrise that the dust finally settled, with the five remaining Enlightenment Platforms claimed by the surviving sects.

Inside the barrier, Li Meng opened his eyes.

He sat cross-legged in the air, bathed in the morning glow. With a calm gesture, he formed a hand seal.

Whoosh!

The mountain of Spirit Stones piled at the formation bases suddenly surged upward. Like a glittering river reversing its course, the stones flew back into the Sword Nurturing Gourd at Li Meng’s waist.

He didn’t leave a single stone behind.

With the fuel source gone, the five golden talismans peeled themselves from the earth and returned to his sleeve. The golden barrier shimmered and dissolved into mist.

The sudden disappearance of the protective dome roused the Joyous Union Sect disciples. They opened their eyes, pulling themselves out of their meditative trances.

On the platforms, Li Xi and Lu Zimo stood up in unison.

Li Meng remained floating, his gaze sweeping over the valley floor.

It was a graveyard. Corpses littered the ground around the Enlightenment Stele, their blood staining the soil dark.

Was it worth it? Li Meng wondered. Dying for a Fated Chance that was never yours to begin with?

Rogue cultivators had their freedom, but they died like stray dogs. Sect disciples had backing, but they were shackled by duty, forced to bleed for their clans even if the rewards weren’t for them.

He scanned the gathered factions. Of the State of Zhao’s four major sects, only the Qingxu Sect had successfully secured a platform. The other three had suffered catastrophic losses, with their surviving Foundation Establishment disciples countable on one hand.

The monks of Jinshan Temple sat apart from the carnage. They hadn’t fought. Instead, they were chanting sutras, their low voices weaving a prayer to guide the souls of the fallen.

The cruelty of the cultivation world was laid bare in the morning light.

“Let’s go.”

Li Meng flicked his sleeve.

He soared straight up, riding the wind. A flying sword manifested beneath his feet, carrying him toward the distant horizon.

The Joyous Union Sect disciples didn’t hesitate. They summoned their artifacts and followed in his wake, leaving the valley of death behind.

“You killed my son and think you can just leave? Dream on!”

Just as Li Meng led his group over the valley’s outer ridge, a roar filled with apocalyptic murderous intent exploded from the sky. The pressure was suffocating, freezing the blood of every low-level cultivator in the vicinity.

“Scram!”

A second voice—icy, imperious, and equally terrifying—thundered in response.

BOOM!

High in the clouds, spiritual lights of every color collided. The sky itself seemed to bruise as a massive shockwave shattered the cloud layer, clearing a hole in the heavens that spanned miles.

The phenomenon lasted only three breaths.

The lights streaked away toward the horizon, the battle moving too fast for mortal eyes to follow.

Li Meng glanced up at the empty sky, his expression unchanged. He didn’t slow down.

That was the benefit of joining a sect.

If you beat the young, the old would come. But if you had your own ‘old monsters’ backing you, they would step in to handle the fallout.

Half an hour later.

The Joyous Union Sect team had left the Yellow Wind Valley far behind, their sword lights cutting across the endless desert sky.

“Senior Sister Lu,” Li Meng said, his voice carrying over the wind. “Once we leave the Western Region Desert, accompany me on a trip to the State of Qi.”

Lu Zimo’s eyes flickered. She understood immediately. Fellow Daoist Li was creating a pretext for her to separate from the group and escape.

She nodded gracefully. “Alright. Junior Sister will accompany Senior Brother to the State of Qi.”

“Junior Brother Li is going to the State of Qi?”

Li Xi, flying nearby, overheard the exchange. She accelerated, pulling up alongside them. “Junior Brother, why the sudden detour?”

Li Meng turned to her. “I have a matter to handle at the Tianshi Mansion.”

He didn’t elaborate, and Li Xi knew better than to pry. However, worry clouded her eyes.

“Junior Brother, you caused quite a stir back there. You might have attracted the attention of high-level cultivators. It would be safer to return to the sect with us first. Unless it’s urgent, the Tianshi Mansion can wait.”

Li Meng chuckled, stroking his chin.

“Senior Sister need not worry. I will travel with the main group until we clear the desert. If any high-level vultures are following us, the Golden Core Elders and the Ancestor won’t sit idly by. Once we leave the desert… well, the sky is vast for birds to fly. Even a Nascent Soul cultivator would find it difficult to locate a single person in the mortal world.”

Li Xi opened her mouth, then closed it. Since Junior Brother Li had seemingly calculated every angle, her advice was redundant.

She glanced at Lu Zimo.

This “Senior Sister Lu” clearly had a higher cultivation base than Li Meng, yet she willingly called him “Senior Brother” and followed his lead. Their relationship seemed incredibly close—intimate, even.

Li Xi felt a twinge of awe. Lu Zimo’s immortal demeanor was breathtaking; even as a woman, Li Xi found her beauty distracting.

Why haven’t I heard of her before? Li Xi wondered. With such transcendent grace, she shouldn’t be an unknown Inner Disciple. Is she a True Disciple of some Supreme Elder who has been in seclusion? Is this her first time venturing out?

Behind them, Ning Changyuan watched Li Xi’s back with a heavy heart.

Li Xi seemed very invested in Junior Brother Li.

It gnawed at him. Li Meng might have low cultivation and poor aptitude, but he was a Tier-2 Alchemist. Judging by last night’s display, he was likely a master of Talismans and Formations as well. And he was obscenely wealthy.

Even if Li Meng never formed a Golden Core, his skills and resources made him a prime catch for any female disciple.

But surely Junior Sister Li isn’t that shallow, Ning Changyuan told himself.

When Li Xi had chosen a Dual Cultivation partner, Ning Changyuan hadn’t been the best candidate. He was ordinary. Mediocre. Yet she had chosen him, even though she was a minor realm above him.

But now?

A trace of melancholy settled in Ning Changyuan’s eyes.

Last night, Li Xi had obtained a Fated Chance for enlightenment. Her potential had just expanded. The gap between them was only going to widen.

How long before she realized he was a burden?

How long before she quietly ended their partnership, leaving them as strangers who once knew each other?

A bitter taste filled Ning Changyuan’s mouth. He felt powerless. He was the man “eating soft rice”—living off a woman—and he could do nothing but wait for the day the meal ticket was withdrawn.

Several days later. Heifeng Stronghold.

With the Moonless Night over, the desert outpost was bustling once again. Cultivators fleeing the carnage of Yellow Wind Valley instinctively flocked here to rest and lick their wounds.

A group of cultivators in yellow robes and purple skirts walked into the largest inn.

“Oho! Isn’t this the wealthy Immortal Master from before?”

The sound of footsteps drew the waiter’s attention. When he spotted Li Meng at the head of the group, his eyes lit up like lanterns.

He practically leaped from behind the counter, his face plastered with an obsequious grin.

“Senior! The old rules apply! Here is your key—still the Heaven-Grade room, the best in the house!”

The waiter deftly pressed a heavy brass key into Li Meng’s hand, treating him like the god of fortune himself.