“The Train,” Celestial-tier room.
Now, not only has the entire “Land of the End” undergone a drastic upheaval, but even the numerous “Celestial-tier” individuals have begun to panic.
Not long ago, Tiāngǒu personally informed everyone that he had heard the “Giant Bell” had been destroyed.
“Heh heh…” Tiānshǔ grinned, revealing the few remaining teeth in his mouth. “That damn Tiānniú thought she was so clever… Now look at the mess below—even the ‘Human-tier’ have abandoned their posts, and nothing’s been done right… Just wait till Qīnglóng returns and starts slaughtering.”
“You… shut it,” Tiānshé muttered, his eyes darting nervously. “If something this major really happened, we’re all responsible…”
“And where’s *my* responsibility?!” Tiānshǔ sneered gleefully. “That young woman Tiānniú has no sense of caution—like she’s never worked a day in her life. When something this big happens, whoever handles it takes the blame.”
Tiānmǎ, the old woman, scoffed. “Fine. When Tiānniú comes back, you can tell her that yourself.”
“Me? What does this have to do with me?” Tiānshǔ flashed a disgusting smile. “Whether you remember or not, I was *vehemently* against Tiānniú earlier. But she just wouldn’t listen. We’ll just pin the blame on her—one person punished, the rest of us off the hook. What’s so bad about that?”
“Y-yeah… that’s right…” Tiāntù, who had just woken up, stammered. “I… I also objected. It was Tiānniú who insisted…”
Tiānshé lowered his head, his eyes flickering uncertainly.
Something about this excuse felt like it would only enrage Qīnglóng further.
If every “Celestial-tier” defaulted to refusing responsibility in situations like this, then things would be exactly as Qīnglóng had warned—the “Celestial-tier” would *need* a complete overhaul.
But if only one or two stepped up to handle the crisis now, there was no guarantee they could actually resolve it.
The situation had fallen into a “prisoner’s dilemma,” making it impossible for anyone to speak up in Tiānniú’s defense.
Tiānhóu and Tiānjī stood up simultaneously, speaking in unison: “Right now, the priority should be solving the problem, not assigning blame.”
“Fine, fine,” Tiānshǔ nodded mockingly. “When Qīnglóng shows up, I’ll go plead innocence, and you lot can figure out a solution. Heh heh… Let’s see who makes it out alive.”
As they argued, an oppressive aura suddenly descended. Qīnglóng appeared at the doorway, his eyes bloodshot as he strode inside.
The sheer weight of his presence forced everyone to bow their heads in silence—except for Tiānshǔ, who sprang to his feet and scurried over.
“Aiya! Qīnglóng, you wouldn’t *believe* what just—”
Without a word, Qīnglóng lashed out, backhanding Tiānshǔ across the room.
“**Scram.**”
Tiānshǔ slammed into the wall with a sickening crunch, cracks spiderwebbing across the surface.
“*Cough*—!” He hadn’t expected Qīnglóng to strike without warning. Several bones felt shattered.
“Filth. Get out of my way.”
Qīnglóng’s eyes burned crimson, his body unharmed but drenched in blood. He ignored the rest of the room, marching straight toward the door leading to the “locomotive.”
Pausing briefly at the threshold, he vanished—only to reappear on the other side.
His blood-red gaze swept the empty chamber.
Everything was as it should be: the throne, the great tree, Tiānlóng.
Yet something felt *wrong*. He *knew* he’d just been attacked here… If that memory wasn’t an illusion, then *what was it*?
He turned to Tiānlóng, still deep in slumber, as if nothing had happened.
“Damn it… What *is* this…?” Qīnglóng felt his convictions crumbling for the first time.
In all his years dominating “Táoyuán,” never had his memories betrayed him like this.
No matter how many he killed, how many he tortured, *no one* could shake his belief.
He was this world’s one true god.
So *what the hell was happening*?
Narrowing his eyes, he tried to piece together the situation. A nagging suspicion pointed to Qí Xià—but they’d been trapped in “Cāngjié’s Game” together. *What could he have done?*
—
“*Cough*… damn…” Tiānshǔ dragged himself off the floor, limping back to the table.
No one mocked him. No one knew who Qīnglóng’s next target would be.
“The hell’s gotten into him…?” Tiānshǔ wiped blood from his lips, collapsing into his chair. “Since when does Qīnglóng lose his temper like that?”
“Probably the Giant Bell’s destruction…” Tiānshé muttered. “Without it, I can’t track ‘Echoes’ for his experiments. The Train’s operations will suffer…”
“Doubt it…” The obese Tiāngǒu shook his head. “Qīnglóng wouldn’t rage over something so trivial. He has ‘Spiritual Hearing’ himself…”
“It didn’t seem like anger…” Tiānshé murmured. “More like… his sanity was slipping.”
The group buzzed with theories, none certain of the truth.
After a long silence, Tiānshé spoke again: “I don’t know if it’s my ‘Immortal Arts’ malfunctioning, but… something feels *off*.”
“Off?” Tiāngǒu frowned. “How?”
“I remember being *torn apart*…” Tiānshé kept his gaze down. “Like a nightmare, but… too vivid.”
Tiānshǔ stiffened. He’d felt the same flicker—but years of stagnation had eroded his mind too far to voice it.
“I… I think I felt it too,” Tiāntù admitted. “I thought it was just a lingering nightmare from waking up. Like my throat was ripped out…”
The others fell silent, their expressions grim.
They couldn’t afford to spread panic here. They were “Celestials.” Even if something *was* wrong, Xuánwǔ and Zhūquè would protect them.
Then—
Tiāngǒu’s head snapped up, his eyes bulging.
Tiānshé followed his gaze—and gasped.
“What…?” Tiānmǎ demanded.
“Xuánwǔ is dead…” Tiāngǒu whispered. “*Xuánwǔ was killed.*”
“**What?!**” The Celestials erupted. “*Who could do that?!*”
“I don’t know…” Tiāngǒu’s voice was hollow. “The voices… I only heard mourning for Xuánwǔ…”
Tiānmǎ and Tiānhǔ exchanged stunned glances. Even Qīnglóng might not have been capable of such a feat. *What kind of monster could achieve the impossible?*
Tiānhóu and Tiānjī stood frozen. “But… Xuánwǔ was *immortal*…”
“That’s not the issue now,” Tiānshé said, adjusting his glasses with trembling hands. “If Xuánwǔ is gone… only Zhūquè remains to shield us ‘Celestials’…”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage