Chapter 1053: Warning

Was it a “Touching Karma” slash he wanted?

When Meng Qi heard this request, he surprisingly felt a sense of anticipation. From Wang Siyuan’s mention of Shusheng not becoming a “Heavenly Dao monster,” referencing Anan’s ability to choose freely among the major karmic threads, he had a vague premonition about this. Moreover, the words spoken by the eldest son of the Wang family, who was always known for his madness and unpredictable actions, even when nearing death, would never simply give in—he would use his own demise as a final scheme, playing one last grand move. This was the foundation of Meng Qi’s premonition.

Indeed, the eldest son of the Wang family truly wanted to go all out in his final moments!

No retreat, no survival, no surrender until meeting Yama himself!

But would he genuinely use “Touching Karma” to seek death, dragging the source of the Wang family’s suffering into his scheme, breaking free from an ancient curse? Or would he seek life through death, breaking all restraints?

After finishing his words, Wang Siyuan stood silently there. The cold wind blew his white robe violently, making him appear even more frail. He did not explain his purpose, nor did he reveal his specific plan, as if Meng Qi did not need to know these details. He only needed to step into the ancestral hall seven days later at the third quarter of the Zi period, swing the “Touching Karma” blade, choose a relatively lighter karmic burden to shoulder, then sheathe the blade and leave without a word, without needing to know the beginning, without caring about the outcome, and without understanding the process. All emotions and involvement would rest solely on this single slash.

“If it weren’t for someone I’ve known for years, this kind of blade-wielding and blade-bearer behavior would truly match my ‘aesthetic’…” Meng Qi muttered inwardly. He asked no further questions and turned to leave beyond the graveyard, his green robe fluttering and his long blade hidden.

A layout by a charlatan—if one delved too deeply, it might ruin his plans. The best approach was simply not to ask.

This matter involved an ancient mystery and terrifying “Heavenly Dao monsters.” Perhaps if Wang Siyuan revealed even a little, the true mastermind behind the scenes would immediately learn of it.

The “blade-bearer” stepped out of the cave-heaven, while Wang Siyuan still stood there like a jade statue, motionless for a long time.

…

Hexiang stood at the edge of the ancestral hall. Seeing Meng Qi emerge, she asked no questions, simply bowed, and led Meng Qi back to the Tianji Pavilion.

At this moment, a crescent moon was slowly sinking westward.

Kneeling behind the table, Meng Qi gazed at the cold crescent, his mind in turmoil.

In the deep silence of the night, there was a subtle pleasure in feeling that everyone else was asleep while he alone was awake.

In this scheme, was Wang Siyuan truly seeking death, or was there still a glimmer of hope?

Lu Ya had escaped captivity, and for a long time, Meng Qi likely wouldn’t be able to seize the Fengshen Bang. It seemed he would have to change tactics, try other methods, perhaps continue cooperating with the Buddha of Darkness, relying on his ability to entangle the demon-Buddha. At the very least, names like that of the revered Doumu Yuanyun and other familiar figures must be erased from the list. At the very least, he must retrieve a fragment of the true soul of the senior, Chonghe…

Senior Brother Qi had found his stage, and the Southern Wilderness was undergoing drastic changes, beginning to impact the martial world and aristocratic sects of Central Plains. Previously, due to his top-tier cultivation and possession of the Demon Emperor’s Claw, things had remained calm. Now that a Fashen had returned, a storm was brewing. Meng Qi could not simply sit idle—he needed to gauge the stance of seniors like Master Lu and Elder Su, and mediate accordingly…

He must not be careless about the matter of the Five Villages Temple in the Journey to the West world that Lu Ya had entrusted him. Yuan Shitianzun had suppressed him for years, nearly ending his Dao cultivation, and their hatred was deep. Meng Qi could not afford to be complacent or overly optimistic just because of his connection with the Demon-Buddha. Many feared the Demon-Buddha, but even more powerful beings and influential figures feared Yuan Shitianzun, and they would not allow Meng Qi to grow and fulfill Yuan Shitianzun’s design…

According to his cultivation progress and the current situation in the Southern Wilderness, Senior Brother Qi was nearing the critical threshold of attaining Fashen. Would the Demon Monarch and other powerful beings watch him succeed unimpeded, granting him an unprecedented Fashen form without shackles or increased control? There would undoubtedly be a major upheaval, perhaps even the descent of ancient sages from the Middle or High Antiquity. Would Meng Qi be able to stand against them? How much help could he offer?

Thoughts of future events swept through his mind, and Meng Qi completely calmed his heart, contemplating them.

Of course, these were imminent or would occur within a few years. The longer-term crisis would naturally be the great calamity, the return of the great sages, mighty beings, and powerful figures. The most crucial response to this was diligent cultivation, continuous refinement, and swift advancement.

I hope I have already proven my legend when the grand stage begins…

A cool night breeze blew in, bringing a bit of freshness, yet it still carried the lingering chill of the graveyard. Meng Qi’s heart stirred, and his senses awakened. He sensed an old, limping servant approaching the Tianji Pavilion carrying a food tray.

“Fu Bo, why have you come?” Hexiang asked softly.

The limping servant replied, “The master sent me to bring the guest a midnight snack.”

Hexiang inspected the tray briefly before gently knocking on the door.

“Come in,” Meng Qi withdrew his senses and responded.

The door opened, and the limping servant hobbled in, bowed, placed the tray down, and served a plate of dark red, almost black pig blood cake.

It looked somewhat different from the usual kind, as if the blood were still fresh, giving off a shocking impression.

Meng Qi felt slightly puzzled and looked up at the limping servant, Fu Bo.

A sinister, eerie smile suddenly appeared on Fu Bo’s wrinkled face. In a hoarse voice, he said, “Don’t meddle in affairs that don’t concern you!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, his body became illusory and twisted, as if he were no longer in this world, unafraid of capture by a Fashen-level expert.

Meng Qi’s expression remained calm. His right hand reached out casually into the empty space before him. A river of time encircled his body, and sword qi silently erupted. In an instant, it pierced through layers of space-time, grasping “Fu Bo” and forcibly pulling him out.

“How… how could this be…” The “Fu Bo” looked bewildered, his skin turning blue as he struggled desperately but could not escape Meng Qi’s grasp.

Meng Qi looked at him calmly and asked, “Dare you play the trick of spatial separation before me? Who sent you?”

A heartbeat sound came from his chest.

Just then, cold winds rose, and black mist spread. Two towering shadows emerged—one with a bull’s head and the other with a horse’s face. They carried forks and spears, exuding an aggressive aura as they shouted, “Su Meng, your lifespan has ended. Come with us to the underworld!”

The Ox-Head and Horse-Face Enforcers? An underworld journey? Meng Qi suddenly recalled the Monkey King striking his name off the Book of Life and Death. He chuckled, “What mere ghost soldiers dare to arrest me?”

As he spoke, he raised his sleeve. The heavens and earth darkened, and the Ox-Head and Horse-Face were simultaneously drawn into the darkness.

“Help…” Upon seeing the Ox-Head and Horse-Face, “Fu Bo” suddenly cried out, but before he could finish, he watched helplessly as the mighty Ox-Head and Horse-Face were effortlessly sucked into Meng Qi’s sleeve, cutting off his voice.

They were on the same side? Just as Meng Qi’s suspicion arose, a solemn voice came from outside, “You dare resist the underworld? You deserve death!”

A stream of purplish-black smoke poured in through the window, forming into a man in wide robes with a long black beard. His expression was stern, and he held a judge’s staff. His aura was far more powerful than that of the Ox-Head and Horse-Face.

“Cui Judge! Save me!” “Fu Bo” finally cried out.

Then he saw Meng Qi raise his sleeve again. The wind howled, the heavens and earth turned upside down. Cui Judge’s face showed shock as he shrank in size, involuntarily flying into Meng Qi’s sleeve.

“This…” “Fu Bo” was already stunned.

Meng Qi lightly tapped the table with his left hand and smiled slightly, “Will the Ten Kings of Hell come next to arrest me?”

“I don’t know…” “Fu Bo” replied blankly.

“They’ve all been captured. Who are you still counting on? Tell me who you are!” Meng Qi suddenly barked.

“I… I am a ghost deity of the underworld, sent by the Emperor to warn you not to meddle in affairs that do not concern you!” Mentioning the “Emperor,” “Fu Bo” suddenly regained his confidence, his voice involuntarily rising.

Meng Qi chuckled, “Above lies the Immortal Realm, below lies the Nine Heavens, where ghosts and demons coexist and the Yellow Springs flow. Where is this ‘underworld’?”

“The underworld was built by the Emperor himself!” “Fu Bo” lifted his head proudly.

“The underworld was built by the Emperor himself?” Meng Qi’s mind stirred. Suddenly, he thought of the “Ghost God True Spirit Chart,” which had mysteriously vanished and then reappeared, transformed into something far more powerful than when the Wang family’s ancestor first forged it. Yet, the divine spirits within had long since disappeared.

The Fengshen Bang established divine positions in heaven and earth. Could the underworld be connected to the Ghost God True Spirit Chart?

And who was this Emperor?

As Meng Qi was about to speak, the figure before him suddenly let out a pained scream, dissolving into green smoke. The cold winds around instantly vanished, the black mist quickly dissipated, and the crescent moon shone again, its silvery glow dreamlike, as if nothing had ever happened.

Meng Qi looked at his empty palm and then at his sleeve, now completely empty. His gaze turned toward the tightly closed door and the ever-dutiful Hexiang outside.

The events of the past moments seemed like nothing more than a dream.

Meng Qi furrowed his brows.