The spirit messenger was slowly cut off.
Chongjue was scolded mercilessly, never defending himself, letting the accusations of “shamelessness” and “debauchery” stick.
From the moment he responded to Su Hansheng, the World-Honored One had been prepared.
Even if Su Hansheng had provoked him first, Chongjue was still the elder. To others, no matter who initiated it, Chongjue, as the elder, would always be seen as seducing a junior.
After all, it was natural for a young person to act impulsively, but the World-Honored One, who had lived for thousands of years, with a heart as steady as a rock and untouched by love, to still play around with his friend’s son…
This wasn’t deep affection…
“This is damn exploitation!”
Qifu Yin was almost fainting, leaning weakly on Zou Chi, his voice barely a whisper. “Kill… kill him for me!”
Zou Chi also looked at Chongjue with disapproval. “Xiaoxiao is young. Why do you join him in his foolishness? Listen to what you just said—can you say that to a junior?”
Chongjue sat in the spirit mustard seed, silently taking out his tea set and slowly beginning to brew tea.
After the scolding, things naturally quieted down.
Not far from the spirit mustard seed, a towering black shadow pierced the sky, massive and imposing, inspiring involuntary fear at first sight.
It was the Heaven-Reaching Tower, the incarnation of Heaven’s Will, standing for thousands of years.
Ying Jianhua stood atop a high mountain, gazing at the Heaven-Reaching Tower about to collapse.
This colossal tower, symbolizing Heaven’s Will, was so vast that it was collapsing from all sides. Huge stones from the tower occasionally fell from thousands of feet, but from afar, the collapse seemed slow and silent, creating a quiet, eerie atmosphere, as if Heaven’s Will itself was silently descending with oppressive force.
Sixteen years ago, Ying Jianhua had seen this scene before.
Shortly after, his master, who had raised and nurtured him, perished in sacrifice, leaving no body behind.
“Changkong,” Ying Jianhua said.
Changkong instantly appeared before him, bowing respectfully. “Master.”
Ying Jianhua said coldly, “Tomorrow I will enter the tower. If I don’t return in three days, Old Fu Ling will be under your fourth senior uncle’s full control. Anyone with ill intent, kill.”
When Su Xuanlin perished, many in Wuque Ling had been scheming, trying to steal the inheritance of the Yingxu Sect.
Ying Jianhua had originally planned to use methods to make them submit, but later realized that killing was the right way.
Once they were all afraid, no one would dare covet the sect leader’s position.
Changkong hesitated. “Master…”
Ying Jianhua didn’t wait for more nonsense. He instructed him to return to Wendao Academy to protect Su Hansheng, then rode the wind down from the mountain peak.
The Heaven-Reaching Tower stood within the borders of Old Fu Ling, with no one living for hundreds of miles around. Even birds, beasts, fish, and insects couldn’t survive here.
Legend said the Heaven-Reaching Tower existed because Heaven’s Will had specially descended it to suppress the demonic aura from the Infinite Hell eight thousand feet underground, creating a boundary gate to prevent any evil spirits from entering the Three Realms.
Because the Heaven-Reaching Tower was connected to the Chongxiao Shrine and Infinite Hell, demonic energy seeped out, causing the area to be barren.
But Ying Jianhua always felt something strange.
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Ying Jianhua had a vague, ominous thought…
This time, the collapse of the Heaven-Reaching Tower probably wouldn’t be easy to resolve, and their opponent might be above the Heaven-Reaching Tower.
Ying Jianhua’s figure floated down from the sky, silently landing on one of the four towers near the Heaven-Reaching Tower.
The Dao Lord sat cross-legged, his robes fluttering in the wind.
His spiritual sense spread out, covering hundreds of miles to detect any abnormalities.
Night fell—though it wasn’t night, the area around the Heaven-Reaching Tower was pitch black. The tower’s exterior was covered in dense moss and sinister vines, as if they had crawled up from the depths of Infinite Hell.
Suddenly, Ying Jianhua frowned, his eyes snapping open as he stared intently toward the southeast.
There seemed to be an extremely familiar aura there.
Ying Jianhua’s heart pounded, all his usual calm shattered. He instantly channeled spiritual energy and dashed to the top of the snowy mountain.
The area around the Heaven-Reaching Tower had distinct seasons, with fierce winds and heavy snow, a bone-chilling cold that couldn’t be blocked by spiritual energy. Even Ying Jianhua couldn’t help but feel his marrow freeze.
Atop the snowy mountain, a person stood in thin green robes, gazing up at the distant Heaven-Reaching Tower. His black hair hung down, and a golden black magpie could be seen pecking at his feathers on his shoulder.
Ying Jianhua’s breath caught, his lips trembling but no sound coming out.
The companion spirit of the Su family bloodline?
The person, hearing the noise, turned slightly.
Reflected in the snowlight, half a face appeared, familiar yet strange.
Ying Jianhua was struck as if by lightning, staring for a long time before whispering in disbelief.
Su Hansheng woke up naturally, spending a while alone in the Buddha Hall before getting restless.
Chongjue was gone, Yuan Qian and Wu Baili had left, and the vast academy was empty and dull. After thinking it over, Su Hansheng decided to go find Ying Zhijin to play.
His senior sister was beautiful and kind, and except for not mentioning his senior brother in front of her, she was almost always willing to help.
Su Hansheng also planned to casually tell Ying Zhijin about his relationship with Chongjue, so that if things were exposed to Ying Jianhua later, his senior sister could save his life.
Su Hansheng cheerfully left the Buddha Hall. As he passed a clear pond, someone suddenly called out.
“Young Master, wait.”
Under the shade of a tree by the pond, a person in white sat on a chair, holding a fishing rod. Judging by his academy uniform, he was from Liu Yao Study Hall.
Su Hansheng didn’t have much contact with people from Liu Yao Study Hall and walked over, puzzled.
The fisherman took off his hat, coughed weakly, but smiled.
“Young Master, where are you headed? Do you have time to talk?”
Su Hansheng looked at him, confused, not knowing who he was.
The man saw his confusion and said helplessly, “I’m your Senior Xu’s classmate, Lan Xubai.”
Su Hansheng was even more puzzled.
Lan Xubai’s body was even weaker than three years ago, seeming to have only a thread of life left, as if a gust of wind could blow his soul away.
Su Hansheng’s gaze accidentally fell on a small wine flask in Lan Xubai’s sleeve, and he suddenly remembered.
This was Senior Xu’s classmate who always liked to drink himself to the point of vomiting blood and was known for divination.
Su Hansheng no longer hurried to find Ying Zhijin. He obediently sat on a stone beside Lan Xubai, swinging his legs and casually tossing stones into the water.
“Senior Lan, how are you? You and my senior brother were classmates. You should have graduated three years ago—why are you still at Wendao Academy?”
Could it be that he, too, had negative points and couldn’t graduate?
If so, then he wasn’t the most embarrassing one anymore?!
The stone startled a fish that was about to bite, and Su Hansheng realized he was interrupting the fishing. He quickly clapped his hands and gave an awkward smile.
Lan Xubai wasn’t angry. He smiled and said, “I graduated ten years ago. I’m just physically weak and need the auspicious land of Liu Yao Study Hall to keep me alive.”
He didn’t ask why Lan Xubai had stopped him, instead swinging his legs and watching his senior fish with interest.
Lan Xubai, who had played the mystic for years, was seeing someone so calm for the first time. He laughed and said, “Young Master, I cast a divination before I came out today.”
Su Hansheng asked curiously, “What did you see?”
Lan Xubai said lightly, “Today is my day of death.”
Su Hansheng was stunned. “Then… why are you still out fishing?”
Shouldn’t an ordinary person try every way to save their life?
Lan Xubai took out the small wine flask from his sleeve, not wanting to talk about it. Instead, he said, “The kids from Liu Yao Study Hall just went to Old Talisman Ridge for their trial. No one’s watching me. Young Master, keep me company and have a drink.”
Su Hansheng hesitated, looking at him.
Lan Xubai loved wine, but his frail body meant he was always watched and rarely got to drink. Wine wasn’t good for him, but he loved the feeling of being half-dead from drinking.
“I was born with a short life. Surviving this long is already Heaven’s Will sparing me. It doesn’t matter.” Lan Xubai guessed Su Hansheng couldn’t drink much, so he poured a little wine into the flask cap and handed it over. “Young Master, try some?”
Su Hansheng frowned but took the cap, though he wasn’t in the mood to drink.
Lan Xubai took a sip, watching the fishing line’s faint ripples in the pond, and began to speak seriously.
“The matter of the Wendao Festival—I’ve divined the result. It’s connected to the collapse of the Heaven-Reaching Tower.”
Su Hansheng tightened his grip on the cap, frowning. “Why are you telling me this for no reason?”
He just wanted to go play with his senior sister, not get involved in the Three Realms’ affairs.
But Lan Xubai seemed to have expected this, waiting for him here since early morning.
Lan Xubai said, “It’s a death omen.”
Su Hansheng’s brow furrowed.
Lan Xubai took another sip, then coughed violently. His pale face flushed with an unusual red, looking like a last burst of life, making him seem uneasy.
He said weakly, “Wendao Academy keeps me here to divinate the fortune and misfortune of the Wendao Festival every year.”
But this time, the divination was completely different from three years ago.
“In three days, the Heaven-Reaching Tower will collapse, and no one will escape the disaster.”
Su Hansheng didn’t believe it. “The World-Honored One and the dean have both gone to the Heaven-Reaching Tower. My senior brother has gone too. With so many powerful cultivators, how could they meet disaster?”
In his previous life, he had ruined everything and fallen into Infinite Hell. He didn’t know much about the Three Realms, but at that time, the evil one was still in Infinite Hell, killing evil beasts for fun. This time, he had returned to his original body.
Unless Heaven’s Will itself descended…
But Lan Xubai didn’t say it was certain. He gently shook his head, giving four words.
“History repeats itself.”
Su Hansheng still didn’t understand.
Lan Xubai tilted his head, gazing at the thunderclouds slowly gathering on the horizon. After a while, he said, “What happened sixteen years ago will happen again, exactly the same.”
A thunderbolt crashed down.
Su Hansheng’s heart suddenly skipped a beat. He vaguely understood something.
He was just a Golden Core cultivator, a small nobody who always needed others to save him. Telling him this was less useful than telling Ying Jianhua or the others.
Lan Xubai’s face was as pale as paper. His eyes seemed to see through people, staring at Su Hansheng for a long time, as if he himself didn’t understand what the divination meant.
“Because the omen says… you are the turning point.”