The palace was shrouded in darkness, with patrolling guards carrying lanterns moving silently through the night. The breeze carried no noise, as if the earlier faint disturbances had never existed—or perhaps it was just a rat scurrying in one of the halls, not worth mentioning.
In the imperial study, the current emperor, Xiao Xuan, stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at Li Chongkang, Lu Siquan, and the others. He said calmly, “Take this Buddhist lamp with you.”
“Hmm?” Heads lifted, and pairs of eyes turned toward him, filled with confusion and astonishment.
…
Flames surged, piercing through the forbidden formations and engulfing the core of the official residence. Having struck his blow, Meng Qi wasted no time lingering. He immediately soared into the sea of clouds and vanished into the distance.
Even if he hadn’t killed all his targets this time, there would always be another chance. If he allowed himself to be entangled and lost the advantage of swift movement and unpredictability, things would become far more troublesome.
As he soared through the azure sky, preparing to move to his next target, he suddenly felt a stirring in his heart and turned his gaze toward the capital.
“Did Li Chongkang and the others succeed?” Meng Qi murmured to himself.
As the creator god who held nearly all the current knowledge and information, even if he couldn’t discern the true nature of the “variable,” he could still sense its movement the moment it disturbed other tributaries of fate. Thus, he had already detected that the variable had left the palace and was now somewhere in the capital.
It seemed his strategy of roaming the world and striking unpredictably had indeed drawn away the capital’s elite, forcing Grand Preceptor Pei Daotong to chase after him, unable to focus on other matters. With the palace left vulnerable, Prince Xiao Kun and Li Chongkang naturally seized the opportunity to succeed.
After a moment’s thought, Meng Qi condensed another fiery dragon, radiant as sunlight, piercing the heavens as he stealthily returned to the capital.
Once inside the city, he didn’t go to the agreed-upon location to check the secret marks left by Li Chongkang for updates or a meeting point. Instead, he followed his own sense of the variable, weaving through streets and alleys, heading straight for its location.
This was an ability he had never revealed to Xiao Kun or Li Chongkang—by doing so, he could avoid traps and surveillance, while also allowing himself to observe covertly and prevent any unforeseen dangers.
Along the way, Meng Qi noticed that the capital appeared relaxed on the surface but was secretly on high alert, fitting the scenario where a crucial item had been stolen and elite forces were scarce. The forbidden formations were primed to activate at the slightest provocation.
Upon reaching Ankang Ward, he slowed his pace, occasionally browsing street stalls and sampling snacks, pretending to be an idle wanderer. Only when he neared the alley where the variable was located did he bend down, offering his left hand to a fortune-teller. While subtly activating his divine sense to scan the surroundings, he chuckled and asked, “How is my fortune these days?”
Aside from Li Chongkang and his group, there were no elite fighters lying in ambush within a hundred zhang of the courtyard…
Lu Siquan stood guard beside the variable, appearing relatively composed, while Bi Chongde and Li Chongkang paced restlessly, their anxiety evident. This was understandable—after stealing the “variable,” the very foundation of Xiao Xuan’s power, and remaining in the capital, few could remain calm and unshaken.
The three of them weren’t speaking—was it because they were too tense and anxious to converse?
…
The fortune-teller studied Meng Qi’s palm lines and then his face before sighing and shaking his head. “Your forehead is dark with misfortune. Have you faced many difficulties lately?”
Who would suddenly seek a fortune-teller if everything was going well?
Before he could finish, a silver ingot was tossed his way, and the man before him stood up and disappeared into the crowd.
“I—I wasn’t done yet…” The fortune-teller stared at the silver in his hand, baffled. He had planned to frighten the man into believing a great calamity loomed, one that could only be averted by purchasing a statue of the Three Pure Ones from him.
After circling the alley and infiltrating the nearby courtyard, Meng Qi carefully confirmed that there were no ambushes around the “variable.”
Of course, given the power of a Six Tribulation True Monarch, even if they were in the palace, they could still intervene in time if anything unusual was detected here.
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Meng Qi was about to enter the courtyard where Li Chongkang and the others were when he suddenly frowned. He retracted his divine sense, wrapping it tightly around himself, and reached out with his right hand. Lightning and sparks erupted as he traced and condensed something in the air.
…
Inside the courtyard, a black box covered in eerie talismanic script rested on a table, containing the “variable” and shielding its aura from detection.
Lu Siquan sat beside the table, eyes half-closed, his hands resting on his knees in a meditative mudra, as if in deep repose. Li Chongkang and Bi Chongde, however, couldn’t sit still, pacing back and forth, glancing at the sky and the walls.
Suddenly, their vision blurred, and a figure clad in black robes appeared before them—a lean-faced man with an ethereal aura, unmistakably the “Gathering Clouds True Monarch,” Meng Qi.
“Elder… how… how did you find us?” Li Chongkang stammered in shock at Meng Qi’s sudden appearance.
At this, Lu Siquan abruptly opened his eyes and smiled. “Elder, please don’t fault our surprise. According to the secret marks, we were supposed to meet you elsewhere.”
He offered a reasonable explanation for Li Chongkang’s reaction.
Meng Qi nodded. “This old man understands. I simply have an inexplicable connection to the ‘variable’ and could sense its location, so I came directly to avoid unnecessary detours.”
“I see.” Lu Siquan turned and picked up the black box, preparing to hand it to Meng Qi.
Just as Meng Qi’s gaze focused on the box, eager to see the true form of the “variable,” Bi Chongde, who had remained silent until now, suddenly produced an object—a strange bell wreathed in purple mist, pulsing as if alive.
The Heart-Shaking Bell!
The absence of other elite fighters didn’t mean no one would strike!
With a gentle shake, the bell expanded and contracted like a heartbeat, releasing a clear, melodious chime that reverberated through the soul, piercing flesh and unsettling the mind!
Amid the tinkling sounds, Li Chongkang and Lu Siquan’s eyes glazed over with dizziness, their bodies swaying as if about to collapse. Only Bi Chongde, holding the bell, remained unaffected.
“You, who borrowed a corpse to return to life, whose body and soul are mismatched—faint now and leave this vessel!” Bi Chongde inwardly snarled.
Traitors were often more ruthless than enemies!
At that moment, he saw Meng Qi’s gaze turn toward him—clear and unwavering, reflecting both his own figure and the Heart-Shaking Bell with perfect clarity.
How was this possible?
How could he resist the Heart-Shaking Bell?
Wasn’t he supposed to be a Daoist immortal descended to the mortal realm, his body and soul misaligned?
Seizing the moment, Meng Qi didn’t retreat but advanced instead. In a flash, his hand touched the black box—only to find another hand already gripping the other end, fair as jade and translucent as glass. The two forces balanced out, neither able to pull it away.
There was someone else in the room—someone Meng Qi’s earlier senses and current observations had failed to detect!
Only when this person acted did they seem to step into reality, becoming visible!
Looking up, Meng Qi saw a familiar face—handsome and carefree, identical to his usual appearance. The aura was unmistakable, though devoid of the overflowing bitterness and deep corruption.
“Ananda? The Demon Buddha!”
The name escaped Meng Qi’s lips as he recognized the intruder.
Since the Bodhi Wonderful Tree was taken and the seal loosened, the Demon Buddha had indeed managed to leak traces of his consciousness, stirring chaos once more!
Wait—if he could only project consciousness, like Meng Qi himself, then he shouldn’t have the power to set up formations capable of sealing a creator god here!
He had help!
“Heretic, surrender now!” A thunderous roar erupted from above as Pei Daotong descended, surrounded by the illusory figures of heavenly deities. With a punch that carried the force of mountains and seas, accompanied by divine might, he struck—not at Meng Qi, who was locked in a struggle with the Demon Buddha over the black box, but at a spot beneath a century-old tree outside Ankang Ward.
Boom!
The tree collapsed, its branches igniting as bolts of lightning and fiery dragons suddenly materialized, coiling into a vortex that barely withstood Pei Daotong’s strike.
Beside the tree, another figure of Meng Qi flickered into view.
When entering Li Chongkang’s courtyard, Meng Qi had considered that the sealing of the Primordial Projection must involve the infiltration of a Nirvana-level consciousness, meaning things wouldn’t be simple. Thus, he had acted cautiously—using his ability to create from nothingness to craft a temporary avatar, masking it with the transformative roots of the Eight-Nine Arcane Art, while his true self remained at a distance. This was how he had resisted the Heart-Shaking Bell’s influence, narrowly avoiding disaster.
Yet, the bell’s chime was indeed sinister—even from afar, he had felt its ripple, allowing Pei Daotong to detect him.
As soon as he blocked Pei Daotong’s punch, Meng Qi’s form shattered into streaks of lightning and rainbows, merging with the fiery dragons and bolts he had conjured, scattering in all directions to obscure his true location.
Holding the other end of the black box, the Demon Buddha Ananda smiled faintly and said, “Your Majesty, strike!”
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