This book is not thick, nor does it record trivial matters, but like a true biography, it recounts the memorable moments of Li Chongkang’s life in the form of stories. For anyone else reading it, they would surely be impressed, gaining a clear and profound understanding of Li Chongkang’s character and deeds.
But as Li Chongkang himself read it, his heart grew colder, his limbs chilled, his entire body trembled, and sweat poured out like raindrops, as if trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t escape.
Every one of his secrets—those he knew and those he didn’t—were laid bare here. The last few pages still bore fresh ink, clearly written just now, not prepared long ago!
“Nonsense… utter nonsense…” Li Chongkang muttered in a daze, his voice weak as he took a step back, his back pressing against a tree trunk, already soaked through with sweat.
For a moment, despite having survived three heavenly tribulations, mastered wind-flight, and commanded lightning, he found himself unable to control his body’s sweating reaction.
Yunji Zhenren had long anticipated his spying and thus leisurely penned this *Biography of Li Chongkang*… His meditative slumber was merely an opportunity for Wei Ji and himself to steal the book… Everything he had done was within Yunji’s calculations, down to the smallest detail… Li Chongkang’s thoughts churned with shock and fear, realizing for the first time that Yunji Zhenren was unfathomable.
“Zhenren? What does this book record?” Wei Ji, noticing Li Chongkang’s strange reaction, blurted out in inexplicable panic, disregarding propriety.
Hearing this, Li Chongkang shuddered as if finally waking from a dream. Without even glancing at Wei Ji, a gust of wind swirled around him, carrying him over the courtyard wall. Stumbling to the side chamber, he bowed deeply, his voice trembling: “This junior was blind, failing to recognize the lofty wisdom of the elder. I harbored suspicions and complaints—please forgive me.”
He remained bowed, not rising, awaiting Meng Qi’s response.
After a few breaths, a hoarse, aged voice came from within the chamber:
“To the ignorant, no blame is due. Li Zhenren, please enter.”
Li Chongkang exhaled quietly, straightened his posture, adjusted his robes, and then pushed open the door to step inside.
Those who survive heavenly tribulations are all outstanding figures of the world. Li Chongkang was no fool. Even if blinded by ambition and pride, such a blow had finally restored his rationality. He understood that facing an unfathomable master, petty tricks and evasion were far inferior to admitting fault and offering sincere apology.
Entering the chamber, he saw Meng Qi still seated cross-legged on the bed, draped in a black Daoist robe, his face gaunt, his brows and beard not yet white but exuding an undeniable aura of age and decay. His deep, inscrutable eyes gazed at him with a faint, knowing smile.
Li Chongkang couldn’t help but tremble again, quickly performing a grand salute:
“Chongkang pays respects to Elder Yunji.”
“There is no need for such formality, Li Zhenren. In these critical times for the Daoist lineage, we all bear heavy responsibilities—there is no distinction of rank.” Meng Qi raised his right hand slightly, gesturing for Li Chongkang to sit.
Li Chongkang first turned to close the door, instructing Wei Ji to guard outside and prevent others from approaching. Then, with trepidation, he sat down and said with difficulty, “This junior has never before encountered an elder like you, one who grasps the workings of fate itself. Even the late Xu Tianshi pales in comparison. I could not believe it at first, hence my arrogance and disrespect. Yet this is a blessing for the Daoist lineage—in this crisis, the elder has emerged to hold up the heavens.”
“Each has their own strengths,” Meng Qi replied with a smile.
Based on further observation, this universe was strangely isolated by the seal. Even if he left to seek help, any assistance would only return within the seal, rendering it useless—unless he could enlist the fully awakened Guangchengzi, Manjushri Tianzun, or even the Green Emperor. That would be an entirely different matter.
Li Chongkang sat as if on pins and needles, desperately searching for a topic. He shifted the conversation: “Xiao Xuan has already torn off all pretenses and holds nothing back. Does the elder have a plan to counter him?”
Xiao Xuan was the name of the current emperor, father of the Nine Princes. Having ruled through two reign periods, he now stood at the peak of his power. Li Chongkang and his peers had clung to the faint hope that the emperor was merely pruning the Daoist lineage due to its influence, and that once this phase passed, things might return to how they were. Thus, they had always referred to him as “His Majesty.” But the recent purge of the southern city and the burning of Daoist temples had shattered that illusion. Li Chongkang now saw the truth clearly—there was no going back—and began referring to the emperor by name.
“We shall discuss specifics tomorrow when everyone is gathered. For now, this old Daoist has a task to trouble Li Zhenren with.” Meng Qi held a horsetail whisk, resting it in the crook of his other arm.
Li Chongkang hastily stood and cupped his hands: “Elder, please instruct me.”
Meng Qi pointed to the table, where a slip of paper bathed in moonlight lay: “Follow the list I’ve written, gather the items, and bring them to me.”
Li Chongkang picked up the palm-sized slip, his eyes flashing with silver-white lightning as he read under the dim light. The list included items like “first-tribulation lightning-struck wood,” “pure yang water,” “ghost-repelling vine,” and “sun godstone.”
Hmm? These are all materials for surviving heavenly tribulations, though only for the initial stages. At his current level, they were of no use anymore. What does Elder Yunji need them for? Full of questions, Li Chongkang glanced at Meng Qi but dared not ask.
Meng Qi smiled faintly: “For years, this old Daoist has pondered the nature of heavenly tribulations, seeking to unravel the mystery of how they elevate us. Now, having made some progress, I wish to conduct a small experiment.”
Li Chongkang was baffled but roughly understood that Elder Yunji was testing something. He refrained from further questions, mustering his courage to ask softly, “Elder, this junior has a deep-rooted ailment—difficulty in siring offspring. Is there a remedy?”
He had long believed his inability to conceive was due to his tribulation-surviving body being incompatible with ordinary cultivators. Only now did he realize it stemmed from an injury in his youth, a hidden flaw. Had Elder Yunji not pointed it out, he might have remained childless forever.
Meng Qi chuckled: “In the western city’s Luoyue District, there is a shop called ‘Immortal’s Favor Pavilion.’ Within it lies a ‘Myriad Transformation Thunder Herb.’ Consuming it directly will restore your foundation.”
“Many thanks for your guidance, Elder!” Overjoyed, Li Chongkang felt reinvigorated, eager to complete his task.
Watching his retreating figure, Meng Qi couldn’t help but shake his head with amusement. He had considered teasing Li Chongkang further, telling him to chant “Homage to the Childless Guanyin Bodhisattva” a hundred times before consuming the herb. But as a Daoist, such a mantra was utterly out of place, so he let it go.
—
The next morning, perhaps influenced by the fierce battle in the southern city the night before and the burning of all Daoist temples, the heavens seemed to respond. Dark clouds pressed low, lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled, heralding a storm.
Li Chongkang spared no expense from the Cangtian Temple’s reserves and his personal treasury, finally gathering all the items on Meng Qi’s list. He hurried back, eager to deliver them and rush to Immortal’s Favor Pavilion for the Myriad Transformation Thunder Herb.
The hidden guards recognized Li Chongkang and did not stop him, allowing him to reach the side chamber’s door, where he overheard the conversation inside.
Meng Qi surveyed the assembled Daoists, martial artists, and the secretly returned Ninth Prince Xiao Kun, speaking slowly: “In this old Daoist’s view, there is no need to stubbornly defend the capital. The world is vast, offering many opportunities. Moreover, this will draw the attention of the current emperor and Grand Preceptor Pei, drawing the capital’s experts away—perhaps even prompting Grand Preceptor Pei to leave the capital personally to quell the unrest. Then, with the capital and court weakened, the Ninth Prince may seize the extraordinary object.”
“This object has propelled the emperor and Grand Preceptor Pei to rapid advancement. Without it, they will stagnate, while we who obtain it will grow stronger. As they weaken and we strengthen, the day of reversal will come.”
The thunder tribulation experts nodded slightly, seeing the wisdom in retreating to advance.
“However, relying solely on the Ninth Prince to steal such a crucial treasure from Xiao Xuan seems unlikely,” Bi Zhongde voiced his doubt.
Beside him, the Ninth Prince Xiao Kun winced at the direct mention of his father’s name.
Meng Qi smiled: “Thus, we must leave a few fellow Daoists hidden in the capital, awaiting the right moment to strike from within and without…”
Before he could finish, his gaze turned to the door: “Li Daoyou has returned. This old Daoist must pause briefly.”
Pause briefly? Confused glances turned toward him.
Meng Qi opened the door, took the bag of items, and stepped into the courtyard. As he walked, he said, “Many thanks, Li Daoyou. But I must trouble you further to assist in the setup.”
Equally puzzled, Li Chongkang took the lightning-struck wood, pure yang water, and other items, following Meng Qi’s meticulous instructions to arrange them. Soon, a simple, unadorned formation took shape in the courtyard.
Meng Qi stepped to the center of the formation, sat cross-legged, and said cheerfully, “Since you’re already here, Li Daoyou, please activate it.”
Bewildered gazes fixed on them. Li Chongkang, though equally confused, summoned lightning from his hands and activated the formation.
Light surged, the formation lines glowing crystalline. The lightning-struck wood, pure yang water, and other materials shattered with a *pop*, transforming into silver-white and azure lightning that twisted into vague, shimmering runes, radiating pure yang energy.
The runes contracted, plunging into Meng Qi’s body. His face twisted briefly in pain before his entire form became wreathed in lightning, drawing bolts from the sky to strike all around the capital.
“This is…” Li Chongkang seemed to grasp something.
Bi Zhongde blurted out: “He’s undergoing a heavenly tribulation!”
Meng Qi smiled slightly as all the lightning retracted into him. The formation crumbled, and a massive azure bolt descended from the sky.
In the current weather, such a phenomenon seemed entirely natural.
As the creator of this universe, privy to nearly all its past knowledge, how could he lack understanding of its martial arts, Daoist cultivation, or the nine heavenly tribulations?
After a night of analysis, comparison, and drawing on his past insights into the Peerless Heavenly Saber and thunder techniques, Meng Qi had grasped the essence, touching the root of this world’s power.
What if no external power could seep in?
Knowledge and information were power themselves!
Yunji was a six-tribulation Zhenren, his physical body incredibly robust—enough to remain uncorrupted after death, though suffused with yin energy that suppressed his strength. Only by using the formation to neutralize the deathly energy could he unleash it. Combined with his ability to inscribe thunder runes through his legendary essence and his own mastery of power’s nature, failing to swiftly pass the first tribulation would be an embarrassment to his homeland and unworthy of his title as a supreme being!
*Boom!*
The azure lightning struck, enveloping Meng Qi in a cacophony of crackling energy.
Moments later, it dissipated, revealing the gaunt, black-robed figure of Yunji the Daoist once more. His body bore numerous wounds, as if a yin-specter scorched by pure yang energy.
Prepared for this, Meng Qi formed hand seals, yin and yang swirling. The recently advanced Yin-Yang Seal circulated slightly, dispelling deathly energy and fostering vibrant vitality. His damaged flesh writhed and regenerated rapidly, soon restoring him to wholeness.
“My apologies for the delay. Let us resume our discussion.” Meng Qi smiled at the stunned assembly.
In Li Chongkang, Bi Zhongde, and the Ninth Prince Xiao Kun’s minds, only a few thoughts echoed:
He really did just pause briefly…
During a break in discussions, he casually underwent a heavenly tribulation…
Is this the same tribulation we treat with such gravity…
For a moment, they all forgot a crucial question: Why was Yunji Zhenren undergoing his *first* heavenly tribulation?
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