Since his rebirth, Song Qian Ji rarely became truly angry, except when someone uprooted vegetables and flowers he had planted and carefully nurtured for a year, or when someone crossed his bottom line.

The current situation belongs to the latter.

Song Qian Ji was not feeling well. Although his “Domain” had been nourished by the Immortality Spring and the vitality of Huawei Mountain’s plants, it had formed only recently and was far from its strongest state.

Absorbing so many powerful remnant souls at once had already exceeded the Domain’s capacity.

But he didn’t care. A shattered Domain could be rebuilt, injuries could be healed. At this moment, he had hardened his heart—tonight could no longer end peacefully.

“What are you afraid of?” Song Qian Ji smiled at the trembling Yuan Qing Shi. “Could a living person like me be more frightening than a group of dead people?”

Black death energy gathered into waves surging toward Song Qian Ji, colliding with the golden light around him, yet being continuously absorbed, forming a massive vortex.

The outer layer swirled with gloomy winds, filled with ghostly wails. The inner layer shone with golden light, bursting with vitality.

Under the tremendous impact, “Huawei City” tottered on the verge of collapse.

Yuan Qing Shi had thought his death was certain, that Song Qian Ji would kill him first out of anger after breaking through.

Yet he heard Song Qian Ji say: “Go. Return and tell your master I’m coming to pay my respects at your sect gate.”

He hurriedly ran several zhang away but couldn’t help looking back.

Song Qian Ji stood at the center of light and darkness, his expression calm, but his eyes seemed to have crawled out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, holding a sword seeking lives.

Like a deity yet also like a demon.

One glance terrified him to the core, and he dared not look again.

He opened his palm, summoning a miniature carving in the shape of Huawei City: “Break!”

The surroundings instantly shattered, revealing the true sky.

The east was already growing pale, with a few scattered stars hanging in the still-dark western sky—it was dawn.

A cyan swordlight stumbled toward Huawei Sect.

…

Blue smoke drifted in the ancestral hall.

The layered spiritual tablets flickered with dim red light, like the wide-open eyes of beasts in the night, watching the people inside from all directions.

“I hope there will be fewer losses this time,” someone regretted. “Sigh, why use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken? No matter how capable he is, he’s still only at the early Yuan Ying stage.”

The other peak masters all agreed.

“That’s incorrect!” Zhao Tai Ji said. “To kill a chicken, one should use a butcher’s knife—eliminate future troubles once and for all.”

The remnant souls of ancestors were precious resources. If they were consumed, they could still return to their spiritual tablets, receive incense offerings again, and gradually recover.

If they were completely dispersed, they could never be restored.

As for whether they could kill Song Qian Ji, they had no doubt—they only regretted the price paid this time.

Only Xu Yun remained silent, slightly frowning.

The night was deep, the water clock cold, each sound urging people on.

He looked at the faintly brightening night sky outside the window, an ominous premonition in his heart that he couldn’t dispel.

Qing Shi was reliable in handling matters—why hadn’t he returned yet?

“Not good! It’s gone out!” Someone suddenly cried out. “My master’s spirit tablet has gone out!”

Zhao Tai Ji trembled, then sneered: “See? I said this young man indeed has skills. Without a butcher’s knife, how could we kill him?”

But with the backing of two trump cards—’ Floating City’ and ‘Lost Souls’—he was confident and unworried.

Before he finished speaking, the faint lights of all the spirit tablets on the wall flickered unstably, like candle flames wavering in a strong wind!

“What’s happening?!”

The peak masters of Huawei Sect turned pale with shock.

“Master!” A cry of alarm rang out as Yuan Qing Shi stumbled into the ancestral hall, his eyes filled with terror, speaking incoherently: “Song Qian Ji is coming, he’s coming to kill us!”

Amid disbelieving silence, crisp breaking sounds arose.

Everyone watched helplessly as countless spirit tablets cracked and collapsed, rapidly turning to dust.

In the blink of an eye, the ancestral hall was empty.

In this instant, Xu Yun suspected he was experiencing an illusion or dreaming.

“Ancestral heritage, ancestral heritage!” He stood motionless as if watching Huawei Mountain crumble in an earthquake. “Gone, all gone…”

People cannot prevent smoke and mist from dissipating, just as they cannot stop the passage of time or the succession of eras.

The dust flew away with the wind, disappearing without a trace.

Only an empty offering table remained.

It was as if a great hand had gently wiped away the vicissitudes of history since the sect’s founding, the blood and sweat inherited generation after generation.

“Ah—” Zhao Tai Ji erupted with a roar of anger. “How dare this upstart!”

Besides their extreme anger, the crowd also felt a hint of fear: if they couldn’t kill Song Qian Ji even like this, did this man have an immortal body?

It was bad enough that he hadn’t died, but instead of seizing the opportunity to escape, he dared to destroy the remnant souls and even intended to storm the sect gate with his sword?!

Had he gone mad?

“Stand up!” Xu Yun turned to his young disciple and shouted harshly. “Get up now!”

Yuan Qing Shi hurriedly supported himself against the wall, barely standing steady: “Song Qian Ji isn’t human. I saw it with my own eyes—he can absorb remnant souls!”

Xu Yun chopped down on the offering table with one palm: “Whether he’s human or not, daring to destroy my ancestral hall, a hundred Thousand Channels Counties wouldn’t be enough to repay this.”

Yuan Qing Shi had never seen his master lose composure like this and was immediately shocked into alertness.

Xu Yun said in a deep voice: “Convey my order—gather all Yuan Ying elders in the sect, except those traveling, in seclusion, or recovering from injuries. Everyone is to assemble at Qiankun Hall!”

“Yes, Master!” Although Yuan Qing Shi knew this was not the time for war, seeing all the peak masters with bloodshot eyes and bristling with anger, he could only comply.

After failing to break through to the Transformation realm, Xu Yun had searched for medicinal herbs unsuccessfully, lived in seclusion, and no longer took action personally.

Tonight, witnessing the destruction of ancestral heritage with his own eyes, his heart burned with urgency, heedless of other considerations.

The bell rang with increasing urgency, resonating throughout Huawei Mountain, and announcing the sect’s peril.

Birds flew up in alarm, and beasts howled.

Just yesterday the joyous bell had rung; now it was the war bell. Everyone in the sect wore solemn expressions, their hearts uneasy.

The mountains trembled, and streaks of light soared into the sky from all peaks, cutting through the pre-dawn darkness, and converging toward Qiankun Hall.

…

Song Qian Ji watched Yuan Qing Shi’s sword light disappear into the distance. Soon a layer of blood mist covered his eyes, and he could no longer see anything.

In the black tide, the mournful howls, eerie laughter, and piercing screams nearly burst his eardrums.

The “death energy” swept like a plague of locusts, and the golden wheat field bent and broke under repeated washings.

The luster gradually dimmed, devastation spread everywhere, and not a grain remained.

Although prepared to sacrifice his Domain, Song Qian Ji still felt a hidden pain.

“Oh my, you’re bleeding.”

Just then, he heard a human voice. He felt this voice was deliberately exaggerated and extremely annoying.

“Who are you?!” Blood flowed from Song Qian Ji’s seven apertures, his senses replaced by pain, yet his aura was like that of a descending deity or demon.

He couldn’t see the person’s face. He vaguely saw a tall figure striding through the black waves and golden light, standing steadily before him.

“I’m just passing by,” the person circled him. “Stop now, that’s enough.”

Affected by the death energy, Song Qian Ji felt irritable. Yuan Qing Shi had just left, and now you’ve come by.

With so many roads, why did you have to take this one?

If you can attack, why should I be the first to stop?

“You’re from Huawei Sect!”

The person laughed: “I used to be, in a way.”

Song Qian Ji raged: “Get out of my way!”

The person said something else. Song Qian Ji didn’t hear clearly, but judging by the tone and experience, it was probably a profanity directed at him.

Then he heard laughter and incantations.

Incantations with unclear meanings, in a special rhythm, pausing after every two three, or four words, came from the newcomer’s mouth in succession, transforming into white butterflies.

The struggle between life and death suddenly mixed with a group of gracefully dancing spirit butterflies, circling and flying around Song Qian Ji.

It was too abrupt. Like this person who had suddenly appeared here.

The butterflies passed through the center of the storm, finding different souls to attach to, as if lightly landing on flower petals.

The black remnant souls trembled violently, actually rapidly “fading,” changing from black to white.

The golden light broke free from its constraints, the vitality of the Immortality Spring erupted, and Song Qian Ji’s pressure instantly dissipated.

What strange incantation was this, able to subdue remnant souls dense with death energy? In my previous life roaming the world, I’d never heard of such a thing.

The person recited over a thousand characters in one breath, finally chanting: “Soul return, the dead go home.”

Song Qian Ji saw only a point of pale fingertip piercing through the golden light, coming toward his brow.

He didn’t feel any malice, yet he was unwilling to be touched by this person of unknown origin. He suddenly tilted his head to avoid it.

At the same time, he thrust his sword, not to injure but to force the person to withdraw their finger.

His sword missed.

The person made a light “hmm” sound, the finger forced to change direction, still grazing his brow.

It was very light, yet left a faint red mark.

His brow burned, causing Song Qian Ji’s entire body to shudder.

In the blink of an eye, the figure before him vanished.

He returned to his own “Domain.”

On the devastated golden wheat field, clusters of white light jumped between the wheat ears, illuminating the remaining field.

There was no death energy or resentment at all.

So the “butterflies” weren’t incantations, but the names of the remnant souls from their previous lives.

“I know who you are now,” Song Qian Ji touched his brow.

You recited over a hundred names, why didn’t you leave your name?

Because your name is the greatest taboo in the world.

…

In front of Qiankun Hall, hundreds of Yuan Ying cultivators stood with solemn expressions, fully armed and ready.

At dawn, the morning wind rolled the mist, making their robes flutter.

Xu Yun brought out the mountain-guarding treasure sword that had not seen daylight, holding it in his hands.

The five peak masters followed closely behind.

Today would be Huawei Sect’s decisive day.

Approaching the threshold of the great hall, they suddenly stopped in unison, their expressions changing.

“Sect Leader True Person… there, there’s a line of writing there,” someone pointed. “It looks familiar.”

In such a brief moment, who could leave writing in Qiankun Hall without them noticing?

The blazing anger of the peak masters was like having a bucket of cold water poured over it, leaving only rising smoke.

They dared not move forward, as if the line of writing was a man-eating evil spirit.

“Could it be that person?” Xu Yun asked in a deep voice.

“…Yes.”

Xu Yun said: “Read it.”

The mountain-guarding treasure sword could dispel all illusions, but holding this sword, he couldn’t see what was written on the ground.

Zhao Tai Ji took a deep breath and read in a low voice: “It’s been two hundred years since we parted. I wonder how you’ve all been lately. I know everyone misses me…”

Xu Yun thought: “Who exactly misses you? Everyone wishes you were dead!”

“But I’m too lazy to see you,” Zhao Tai Ji continued reading.

The characters were written with a finger dipped in wine, with several fingerprints beside them, crooked and distorted, like a child’s casual drawing:

“That young man is at least nominally my disciple. If you kill him like this, I lose face. As long as I haven’t died, he can’t die either.”

Xu Yun, holding the mountain-guarding sword, breathed heavily, suddenly finding courage.

He raised his hand and fiercely struck down with the sword!

“There’s more writing!” someone exclaimed.

Zhao Tai Ji leaned forward to look carefully: “I knew you would strike with your sword. I won’t say more, I’m in a hurry. Let’s meet again when fate allows—”

Xu Yun suddenly shouted: “Stop immediately!”

At the same time, as the writing continued to appear, Zhao Tai Ji had already unconsciously read aloud:

“Xian Jian Chen, written by his hand.”

He awoke with a start, quickly raising his sword to erect a protective screen.

It was too late.

“Boom—”

The candles inside the hall were extinguished.

The sea of clouds surged, and thunder roared in anger!

A lightning bolt struck fiercely, crashing into the roof of Qiankun Hall.

Candles extinguished, bricks cracked, glazed tiles shattered.

The great hall collapsed.

The sword energy activated by the three characters “Xian Jian Chen” ignored all of Huawei Sect’s defensive formations, instantly leveling the entire Qiankun Hall.

In the blink of an eye, Passing Water Bridge broke with a crash, the sea of clouds shattered, and the five-colored carp turned into bloody water.

The cultivators prepared for the expedition fled on their swords in disarray, completely routed.

Streaks of sword light flew crookedly, scrambling to avoid the crisscrossing sword energy in the air, occasionally being struck down from the sky.

In front of Qiankun Hall, heaven and earth were turned upside down.

When Xian Jian Chen left his name, he casually left behind a strand of sword energy.

If Xu Yun hadn’t struck that sword blow, Zhao Tai Ji wouldn’t have read out his name.

The sword energy in the name would not have been activated, and the lightning atop the hall would not have struck.

The space above Huawei Mountain was obscured by layers of smoke and dust. A sword shadow passed through, hardly noticeable.

“Still so stupid,” the person on the sword smiled and tossed down an empty wine flask.