The Alchemy Cloud Pavilion, nestled at the edge of the sect's inner ring, was alive with fragrance.
It was a place where disciples exchanged sect merit and spirit stones for rare blossoms, spirit herbs, and the pills of clarity.
There, beneath a pear-blossom tree, Ye Chen stood quietly.
His robes were clean but threadbare at the hem.
Counting the spirit stones in his pouch, they were just enough for a single bottle of Five-Petal Soul Calming Elixir.
Something he really needed at the moment.
The alchemy attendant bowed with polite indifference.
"One bottle. No discount,"
Ye Chen forced a smile.
"This one has long admired the work of Master Zhen… I heard a rumor he's concocting spirit-cleansing dew. Might this humble one—"
Before his words could form flattery, a heaven-rending roar swept through the mountains.
The voice was thunder without storm, a divine proclamation that cracked the air itself.
Tiles trembled.
The blossoms of the spiritual Tree withered in fear.
Ye Chen's eyes widened.
Fatty Wang, his sworn dao-brother, the one who'd once called him brother ye between bites of porks and bun, is dead?
Gasps rose among the gathered disciples around Ye Chen.
"…It seems the Elder Wang himself has descended,"
"I just got a word from my Dao brother, he said Elder Wang tore a maid apart with a demonic hand..." A disciple uttered while holding his jade slip.
"I also got the spiritual decree from my Dao Brother…it seems Ye Chen's name was mentioned from the maid's mouth,"
Like incense smoke, rumor found Ye Chen before the truth ever did.
Of course, these Daoists have no full information, they just have what was delivered to them.
All while,
Ye Chen was confused.
His already weak Dao heart shattered.
Something inside him twisted.
His knees wobbled.
His soul, already cracked by isolation, loss of sect favor, and a broken Dao Companion's silence, finally gave way.
From the depths of his heart, something else rose.
A sinister whisper of big dreams
A mischievous grin.
A mirror, smiling back with bloodied teeth.
He was pulled inside his sea of consciousness, the regular cheerful bright sea now turned into a sea of blood.
It was dark, and suffocating, with a long monolith standing within the sea and, on top of it lay a devilish skull glowing with the flame of the afterlife.
It looked eerie and unholy.
Is this it?
Is that all?
Was there really nothing you could do?
Were you really born to suffer?
How was it? How was the feeling when you got to witness the Holy maiden serving young master Zhao?
Fellow Daoist ever thought of going against everyone?
No?
You are pathetic... A waste of space, a disgrace to life, a sinner to the path of cultivation.
You have no hope.
Mount Tai will never bless you with its grace unless you have the strength to do so.
Even ants struggle harder.
The heart demon, looking exactly like Ye Chen, but more demonic, smiled, corrupting his mind with nothing but truth.
Don't you feel shame... A disgust, realizing what you have become?
A single Daoist surname Zhao managed to turn your life upside down.
Hahaha, you have no reason to live anymore, no hope to cling to anymore, you failed to even realize the difference between sky and earth, let alone heaven.
Ye Chen's consciousness slowly blurred.
Yet, he still clung to his hopes.
He can't let this heart demon corrupt his mind.
Yet, it was too late...
Sleep well, as this one toys with worms...
Impudent Ants, Stand Ready For My Arrival!!!
---
In that instant, the skies responded.
Dark clouds billowed as if stirred by ancient resentment.
Arcs of celestial thunder licked the sky like serpents.
A disciple screamed, "Tribulation! It's a Heart Demon Tribulation!"
Pill vials shattered.
Qi shields snapped into existence.
The crowd began to scatter.
And Ye Chen rose into the sky, well, no longer Ye Chen in a profound sense.
His eyes were black moons, his voice a melody of corrupted regret.
"Heaven once chose me..." the Heart Demon mused aloud, floating above the pavilion. "But it seems Heaven tires easily. Such whimsical affection,"
Crack!!!!
Buzzzzzz!!!
Lightning cracked down toward him.
Dururung!
Dururrummmmm!!!
One after another, nine heavenly lightning striked new Ye Chen, damaging his soul yet increasing his strength at the same time.
And as the last lightning struck, his body was full of natural Qi, the breath reaching the void refining realm.
It was a huge advancement, yet, the ant remains an ant.
Just then,
The space trembled.
And a spatial vortex appeared,
From within, The Young Master Zhao descended.
His black robes trailed like ink across falling snow, with only the faint scent of sandalwood.
He stood above the all.
Eyes like ancient blood jade, figure like an immovable mountain.
His eyes looked at the sect disciples and elders beneath like a god, watching a bunch of mortals.
His sheer presence alone made few disciples get on their knees.
The aura was simply too much for weaklings to handle, who have yet to grasp the profound might of ancestral teaching.
He simply raises his hand, full of grace and aura, causing the space to ripple like water, and few maidens began to moan in ecstasy, falling weak on their knees.
A small bamboo flute materialized into his hand, seemingly out of thin air.
As he began to play the bamboo flute, the space became calm, a spring breeze passed by, and the graceful petals floated in the air, covering the sky.
Everyone felt at ease, the pressure vanished and the dark sky turned clear.
It was like the will of divine grace, the majesty of unfathomable music Dao.
However, one particular figure wasn't at ease.
The music was like a curse to him.
As the melody entered his ears, he instantly got on his knees, the strong spiritual pressure completely destroying his internal organs.
Pfft...
He coughed some blood.
As for his puny worthless life, it still has one use to witness his birth mother thoroughly enjoying the Yang rod of Young Master Zhao.
The technique used was merely a heart demon suppression.