Three months ago
Inside the wooden Dao Hall,
Chu Weiyang gazed quietly at the large urn, observing the neatly arranged snake eggs within.
At this moment, after experiencing several soul-searching sessions, these snake eggs had transformed in Chu Weiyang's eyes into the physical shells of Mo family cultivators undergoing rebirth, becoming remnants of ignorant true spirits.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths...
After a long while, no snake eggs had cracked within the large urn.
Chu Weiyang understood that he needed to be more patient; even with the methods of the third elder of the Yan family, it was unlikely that one moment he had just burned an island, and the next he would directly arrive at another place.
However, the stillness of the Dao Hall inexplicably made Chu Weiyang feel increasingly anxious with each passing breath.
He could not gamble, could not bet that all Mo family cultivators were stubborn individuals who would rather die than reveal the secrets of rebirth and Lingfu Island.
After all, no matter how great the temptation of living again, it could not compare to the life force of continuing one's own physical shell.
Moreover, there might be those with weak wills who could not withstand the third elder of the Yan family's interrogation.
Chu Weiyang could not risk his own life and safety to gamble on an ethereal probability, to wager on the resilience of others' Dao hearts.
With this thought, he recalled the blood and slaughter of various beasts from different origins that would emerge after these demon snakes were born, and thus Chu Weiyang solidified his resolve.
In a daze, it seemed as if the voice of Steward Ma echoed in Chu Weiyang's ears.
Gradually calming his slightly agitated emotions, Chu Weiyang exhaled a breath of turbid air and then asked Chunyu Zhi.
Chu Weiyang believed that Tingchang Mountain possessed such secret methods, not only because of the origins of Danxia Laomu but also because Chunyu Zhi's soul had been extracted from her physical shell and sealed in another person's spirit platform.
From subtle signs, this must be a prevalent technique of Danxia Laomu or the cultivators of Tingchang Mountain.
As Chu Weiyang's words were not yet finished, in a flash, Chunyu Zhi understood his meaning.
Hearing this, Chu Weiyang's reaction was somewhat strange.
Ignoring Chu Weiyang's surprise, Chunyu Zhi continued to speak.
Upon hearing this, Chu Weiyang smiled broadly.
Just as the words fell, suddenly, a thunderous roar echoed from the distant sky.
Then, when Chu Weiyang looked up, the gloomy sky near dusk suddenly seemed to lower violently, and in an instant, amidst the howling winds, torrential rain poured down.
In this life and the last, it was the first time Chu Weiyang had to make a living in the vast ocean.
Yet, stemming from the memories of those old cultivators, the seasonal insights of the outer sea suddenly lingered in Chu Weiyang's mind.
Hundred Snake Island.
Rain fell upon the mountains and rivers, endless sighs.
Yet at this moment, all sentiments of the mortal world seemed difficult to transform into raindrops that fell into the fiery storm.
In an instant, outside the island, layers of white mist began to rise.
But no matter how much it wrapped around, it could not conceal the ashes and dust that were lifted by the raging flames, nor those within the fire, twisting and dancing like ancient shamans, free and vibrant.
Before long, the rising ashes and dust mingled with the torrential rain outside the storm, transforming into a certain kind of mud that fell down, only to be refined into a kind of gray-black residue within the fiery storm.
Soon after, an unbearable stench began to spread throughout the entire island.
However, at this moment, the third elder of the Yan family had no mind to observe everything on the island.
He furrowed his brows tightly, his scarlet eyes seeming to flow with a surging ocean, and when he extended his hand, the layered fire energy wrapped around his pale fingers, resembling some kind of claw, tightly gripping the head of a withered old man.
The patience he had maintained all this time had gradually worn thin.
For the third elder of the Yan family had come to a clear realization—a certain truth— that the matter of Tingchang Mountain's teachings being passed to the demon race had seemingly become a foregone conclusion.
If this matter could not be handled well, the entire Yan family, not just Yan Jianming but including himself, would have many people risking their lives and paying with their lives for it.
And the cause of all this was that Dao book placed in Yan Jianming's Qiankun pouch.
Thus, the third elder lowered his head, looking at the old man whose face was already bloodied and mangled.
"You should know what I am here to ask. You are not the first person I have asked these questions. I have killed many along the way and can kill more, but I need an answer, I must have an answer!
So for this answer, I am willing to spare a person’s life. Now, this... Mo Dao friend, do you wish to answer me?"
Silence.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths.
The third elder's previously calm expression seemed to twist again.
He bit his lip tightly, seemingly trying to suppress some impulse that was about to burst forth.
In the next moment, just as the third elder slightly squinted his eyes,
suddenly, a voice, almost lower than the crack of the flames, reached his ears.
In an instant, the third elder regained his composure; his calm face showed no expression, only raising his hand to grip the old man's head with that claw-like grip, then slightly tilting his head.
As the words fell, the old man's intermittent voice sounded.
The third elder frowned, becoming impatient again, urging and questioning:
As the words fell, even the broken gasps lingering in the third elder's ears suddenly ceased.
Looking again, the old man stared blankly with his murky eyes, suddenly losing all vitality in the third elder's grip, only a long exhale escaping, bringing forth some blood foam from the corners of his mouth.
With a fierce motion, he slammed his hand down.
The third elder was furious, standing in place, nearly grinding his teeth to dust.
He opened his mouth as if to roar, but in an instant, it seemed he had something to say.
Yet in the end, his expression twisted into a grimace, and ultimately, in the silent stillness, he suddenly transformed the swirling Five Phoenix Fire into its peak.
Amidst the mournful cries of the phoenix, one could hear the third elder's low, painful groan.
Lingfu Island, before the earthen mound.
The platform originally inlaid with jade talismans was now extravagantly coated with a thin layer of alchemical gold by Chu Weiyang.
Upon closer inspection, the surface of the alchemical gold was covered with intricate patterns.
Strangely enough, regardless of the type of seal script, Chu Weiyang had seen many by now; regarding various uses, he had seen these seal scripts interlinking, forming chains that served as restrictions; and when several chains intertwined, they formed the embryonic shape of supreme formations.
Yet for the first time, Chu Weiyang saw that the surface of this talisman array was filled with bizarre characters resembling tadpoles, some long, some broken, suddenly thick as dots, and suddenly winding like hooks.
No matter how strange, these tadpole seal scripts were independently engraved on the surface of the alchemical gold, with no connection to one another, only depicting a well-ordered arrangement.
This was the secret technique of the Xuanmen to communicate with the ethereal.
At this moment, on the flat earthen platform, there lay a small mountain of demon snake shells.
Upon closer inspection, there was completely no fluctuation of true spirits within.
Only in the center of the array remained a small pile of snake eggs, driven by the previous talisman array, yet no true spirits had been drawn forth.
However, facing such a change, Chu Weiyang was not worried; instead, he seemed to have released the sword hanging above him, and his entire being suddenly relaxed.
Perhaps it was also due to being washed by the torrent of memories from too many people, affecting his mind; at this moment, Chu Weiyang's face was pale, yet he bore a slightly tipsy demeanor, as if a sense of dizziness followed him, yet it made Chu Weiyang feel light and unknowing.
In place, Chu Weiyang picked up a snake egg.
He carefully discerned the tiny patterns on it.
Having said that, Chu Weiyang flicked his wrist, tossing the snake egg into the air, and immediately, the white jade venomous snake at his wrist leaped up like an arrow, its gaping maw opening wide to swallow the round, pill-like snake egg.
Then, the jade snake coiled around Chu Weiyang's wrist, as its body stretched, a crimson light began to swirl through the gaps of its white jade-like scales, and with the swirling blood light, the jade snake's aura grew stronger with each passing breath.
As the words fell, the jade snake flicked its tongue, emitting a buzzing sound, seemingly joyfully responding to Chu Weiyang.
At the same time, Chu Weiyang's hand fell once more on another round snake egg.
Gently pinching it, Chu Weiyang's hoarse voice suddenly rose a notch.
Many books are now hard to find; cherish them while you can.