The Jade Ruins Palace reappeared, its grand palace towering high, and its ancient well exuding a mysterious aura.
Within the Golden Light Cave on Mount Wudang, suddenly three-colored lights—purple, white, and golden-yellow—shot into the sky, illuminating auspicious clouds and colorful mists as if welcoming the return of a great figure.
Chu Zhuangwang, whose body flickered between ethereal and tangible, abruptly opened his eyes, within which seemed to contain myriad worlds.
The moment his eyes opened, his right hand already gripped a jade scepter, his body rising and launching toward an unknown destination.
In the lands of Tang, Han, Qin, and Ming, figures dressed as emperors sensed a subtle shift beyond the River of Time and within the boundless chaos.
Yet even before them, having already prepared, Duke Huan of Qi and Meng Qi were already enveloped in golden lotuses, piercing through layers of void. Their physical forms and spiritual essences underwent strange transformations, gradually giving them an omnipresent sensation, as if ascending to the Ninth Heaven.
As his vision cleared, the familiar Kunlun ancient well and the Jade Ruins Palace appeared before Meng Qi. Without hesitation, the two rushed toward the palace gates.
Suddenly, a figure flashed out from the side—clad in imperial robes, with a golden face and five strands of black beard. It was none other than Chu Zhuangwang. Skilled in the Dao of size and spatial shifting, even if slightly delayed, he was no later than Meng Qi and the others.
Chu Zhuangwang’s aura was mighty, seemingly merging with the void itself, becoming a god ruling this domain. His right hand held the jade scepter glowing with purple, white, and golden-yellow light, striking toward Duke Huan of Qi, while his left hand formed a fist, launching an attack toward Meng Qi from afar.
From the previous incident, he had realized that the one destined for the Jade Ruins Palace was not Duke Huan of Qi (Bai Xiao), but rather Ju Zi of the Mohist School, Su Mo. Thus, he had prepared in advance with full confidence. His right hand entangled the scepter, momentarily delaying the influence of the “Sleeve of the Ten Thousand Realms,” while his left hand unleashed nearly full power in the Ten Thousand Realms Shifting Fist, intending to send this major threat to a remote, desolate corner of the cosmos, keeping him away temporarily.
With a punch, layers of cosmic illusions surrounded the strike, forming a vortex centered on his fist—vast and eerie—enveloping Meng Qi directly. Meanwhile, the jade scepter emitted countless rays of purple, white, and golden-yellow light, brimming with merit, blessings, and serenity, temporarily resisting Duke Huan of Qi’s sleeve, the darkened chaotic world, and the self-contained prison-like realm.
The cosmic illusions shifted. Meng Qi’s figure grew smaller and smaller, resembling a mosquito or fly, before being expelled beyond the heavens, piercing through the crystal barrier, drifting further and further away.
Suddenly, within the boundless emptiness of the universe, this figure disintegrated into a single strand of hair, first frozen into ice crystals, then decaying into dust, vanishing into oblivion.
At that moment, above Chu Zhuangwang’s head, a figure abruptly appeared—dressed in a green robe, sleeves fluttering, rushing toward the gates of the Jade Ruins Palace, dodging the interception of the Dharma Body. It was unmistakably Meng Qi.
He knew Chu Zhuangwang had mastered the Ten Thousand Realms Shifting Fist, and that his own Void Seal had achieved minor success. The moment he saw the opponent’s punch, he transformed accordingly, using the Spirit Treasure Fire Knife to hide and conceal his true self within the void, letting a projection absorb the blow, thus seizing the opportunity to evade Chu Zhuangwang’s interception.
Now, Meng Qi had already reached the peak of the Outer Scenery realm, wielding divine weapons and possessing numerous supreme techniques. Compared to the Abbess of Shuiyue Nunnery during the contest for the Buddha’s Palm, he had grown significantly stronger, capable of briefly resisting a Dharma Body and holding his own against them.
Bang! The palace gate was smashed open, and Meng Qi darted inside without hesitation or pause.
If the enemy were only Chu Zhuangwang, the correct course would be to join forces with Duke Huan of Qi to drive him away or eliminate him. However, time was pressing—the other Dharma Bodies could arrive at any moment. Any delay would cost them the initiative.
Seeing Meng Qi evade his Ten Thousand Realms Shifting Fist, Chu Zhuangwang’s expression darkened slightly. His left hand suddenly rose, fingers spread into a blade, slashing downward in front of the jade scepter.
With a tearing sound, space itself split like a curtain, creating a rift between the golden-yellow light of the scepter and the “Sleeve of the Ten Thousand Realms,” briefly separating the terrifying suction and the nearly formed prison.
Seizing the moment, a light gray puppet flew from Chu Zhuangwang’s waist, merging with the light of the Three Virtues and voluntarily plunging into Duke Huan of Qi’s sleeve.
He had suffered greatly under the “Sleeve of the Ten Thousand Realms” before, so he had painstakingly prepared countermeasures—capable of neutralizing one use of the technique. Naturally, the item was limited and could only counter once.
As the sleeve closed, the “gale” vanished. Chu Zhuangwang’s body flickered, instantly splitting into eight figures. Each was vivid and lifelike, exuding a genuine aura, making it difficult to distinguish the real from the false, thus confusing Duke Huan of Qi’s judgment and preventing him from being sucked back into the sleeve.
The eight figures advanced directly or circled around, approaching the gate from different directions, chasing after Meng Qi.
“Eight Gates Heaven Pass…” Duke Huan of Qi’s mind flickered with the thought, his expression growing more solemn.
This was the divine skill Chu Zhuangwang once relied upon to achieve dominance. He hadn’t used it in years, yet now he had pushed it to the true level of the Eight Gates Heaven Pass.
He must have already grasped the mysteries of the void, allowing his body to simultaneously appear in eight different places—not too distant—so that all eight figures were real, without falsehood. They could almost simultaneously attack from eight directions, surrounding an opponent. Unless all were eliminated at once, one could not harm Chu Zhuangwang.
This martial art was said to have been created by a Celestial Immortal during the War of the Gods, in an attempt to break through to the legendary realm.
Duke Huan of Qi did not dare to be careless. He stepped forward, his body rapidly expanding into a divine figure. A canopy of auspicious clouds, about ten feet wide, appeared above his head, while golden lamps and lotuses floated around him, exuding a vast, ancient, noble, and solemn aura.
This divine figure wielded the Spirit-Striking Whip and the imitation Jade Ruins Amber Yellow Banner, directly chasing after Chu Zhuangwang.
…
Familiar with the path, Meng Qi transformed into a blade of light, cleaving through the chaotic illusions, rushing past layers of buildings like lightning, heading straight for the Hall of the Four Symbols.
At this moment, Dharma Bodies dressed as emperors appeared on other sides of the Jade Ruins Palace. Among them stood King Wen of Tang, a pale-faced man without a beard, wearing a light golden imperial robe and a soft jade crown, appearing refined and scholarly.
He stood at the entrance without rushing in. Instead, he closed his eyes and activated his martial art. Then, his right hand reached forward, emitting a clear light that condensed into a transparent ancient mirror, reflecting people, history, and the self.
The mirror quickly deepened, its surface rippling like water, flashing through scenes before finally settling on the front of the Hall of the Four Symbols, revealing Meng Qi’s figure.
Previously, he had not known who had entered or where exactly, making it difficult to use his techniques. But now, only the path from the Hall of the Four Symbols to the Hall of Creation remained, and the treasures were easy to locate.
The doors of the Hall of the Four Symbols were already open, revealing the interior scene at a glance. The main structure was white, with red pillars, blue bricks, and black tiles complementing each other. At the highest seat was a table, atop which rested a translucent jade box, warm and smooth.
Half-open, the jade box revealed inner chaos—earth, fire, water, and wind raging within. Red, blue, white, and black lights flickered in and out of existence, like boiling water, continuously bubbling. Even without substance, even space itself struggled to exist. Just from afar, Meng Qi had no doubt about the terrifying power contained within. If it were a magical treasure or divine weapon, even one of the Three Immortal Sisters of the Cloud Marsh at the legendary level would be reduced to foul blood within moments.
“So, the Four Symbols Seal corresponds to this…” Meng Qi, well-versed in the Investiture of the Gods, suddenly understood. Yet his feet never slowed, already dashing from afar to the entrance of the Hall of the Four Symbols.
Suddenly, a burst of clear light erupted from his left side, condensing into an ancient mirror. Within the mirror appeared a scholarly emperor, whose right hand extended directly from the mirror’s surface, as if stepping from illusion into reality. He flicked his fingers, aiming a strike directly at Meng Qi!
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