Little Lin, may I sit beside you

In that moment of imminent crisis!

"Still."

A clear, calm female voice rang out.

Yaochi Sovereign Ji Qingyi had risen to midair at some unknown time, her moon-white celestial dress flowing without wind.

Above her head, the Western Emperor Tower burst forth with unprecedented sacred light, transforming into streams of liquid light as real as quicksilver, carrying the supreme intention of calming chaos and protecting all living beings.

Striking before the spread, it instantly expanded outward like the gentlest embrace, quietly enveloping and dissolving the out-of-control destructive energy storm into nothingness.

A deathly stillness of having survived a calamity settled over the entire scene.

Then, a deafening storm of curses and wailing erupted!

"Damned demon race! Are you trying to bury us all here?!"

"Thank you, Yaochi Sovereign, for saving our lives!"

"Such behavior by the demon race is no different from the demonic path!"

Countless cultivators, their faces pale and hearts still racing, cast grateful looks toward the Yaochi Sovereign while glaring at the demon race’s war chariot with eyes full of fury and hatred.

Several human sovereigns also wore grim expressions, their icy gazes piercing like swords toward the South Domain Demon Lord.

The South Domain Demon Lord, however, paid them no heed. Instead, he burst into loud laughter as a massive rift was forcibly torn in the imperial tomb’s forbidden seal.

"The passage is open! Let each fend for themselves! If you hesitate, how can you seize the fortunes? Let’s go!"

With that, he took the lead, driving his demon cloud into the rift.

The crowd erupted into chaos once more, abandoning their curses and scrambling to rush toward the rift.

In the midst of this pandemonium, no one noticed two seemingly ordinary Heavenly Man Realm rogue cultivators in the crowd communicating via telepathy.

"Little Ling, find a chance to teach those demon whelps who disregard others’ lives a harsh lesson."

Xuanyangzi’s voice rang directly in Ling Canglan’s mind.

Ling Canglan, who was just about to enter the Great Emperor’s tomb, felt his mind shake violently!

That voice was Xuanyangzi, the Sect Master?! He’s here?

Suppressing his excitement, he sent out a thread of spiritual sense, following the faint telepathic fluctuations to secretly track them, instantly locking onto those two ordinary-looking figures in the crowd.

It was the disguised Xuanyangzi Sect Master, and the one beside him—could it be Honored Master Gu Changge?

"Honored Master is here too!"

A towering wave of emotion surged within Ling Canglan, his excitement barely containable, but his face showed no sign as he gave an almost imperceptible nod in that direction.

Then, a reverent telepathic message was sent back: "Ling Canglan, obeys the Sect Master’s decree! I will not fail the trust of Honored Master and Sect Master!"

He took a deep breath, and when he looked again toward the direction of the rift where the demon race had vanished, his eyes were filled with an icy killing intent.

With Honored Master here to hold the line, not a trace of hesitation remained in his heart.

"The passage is open! Enter!"

"Let each fend for themselves, and each accept their fate!"

Seeing the passage open, the crowd could no longer hold back and rushed forward, scrambling to get in.

First went the elderly eccentrics at the end of their lifespans, nearly insane with desperation, along with hordes of rogue cultivators blinded by greed.

Like moths diving into flames, they transformed into countless streaks of light, plunging recklessly into the deep darkness.

Then came the disciples of the great holy lands and the prodigies of noble families, moving under the guidance or orders of their elders.

They maintained basic formations, their auras linked and protective artifacts shielding them, appearing much more orderly—yet the fervor and determination in their eyes was no less intense.

For a moment, the sky was filled with flowing light like rain, a spectacular sight.

Just as countless cultivators were flooding in like locusts, several familiar figures quietly gathered from different directions at the outer edge of the imperial tomb.

They were Xiao Ruobai, Fang Hanyu, Ling Xi, and Fatty Wang.

"Senior Brother! Second Senior Brother! Third Senior Sister!"

Fatty Wang spotted them first, twisting his body through the crowd with surprising agility, waving excitedly.

His scorched, hole-ridden Daoist robe hadn’t been changed, and his face was streaked with unwashed soot—he looked exactly like a mud monkey just crawled out of a stove, making nearby cultivators sidestep to avoid him.

Xiao Ruobai and Fang Hanyu stood shoulder to shoulder, their auras steady and restrained. After their recent cultivation and consolidation, their power had clearly improved further.

Ling Xi stood slightly apart. Her aura had grown even deeper, as if she were surrounded by a sense of nothingness that devoured everything, making it hard for anyone to look at her for long.

"Xiao Pang, what kind of mess did you cook up this time to end up like this?"

Xiao Ruobai couldn’t help but smile at Fatty Wang’s sorry state.

"Heh, don’t ask. I was drawing talismans and almost sent myself off."

Fatty Wang grinned sheepishly, then his eyes darted around and were immediately drawn to the towering, mountain-like figure behind Xiao Ruobai.

Qilinzi Mo Yu!

At that moment, he had reverted to his true form—a horse-like shape but far more divine and martial, a head like a dragon, covered in fine red scales. His entire body was sheathed in palm-sized, ruby-like scales, with faint golden light flowing through the gaps.

Beneath his four hooves, faint clouds gathered. Though he stood silently, a faint pressure of an ancient divine beast exuded outward, keeping ordinary cultivators at a distance.

"Wow! Senior Brother, is this your mount? A Qilin! A living Qilin! How impressive!"

Fatty Wang’s eyes sparkled as he circled around Mo Yu several times. Unable to resist, he reached out to touch the flame-like crimson mane.

Mo Yu’s brow furrowed slightly, and an invisible pressure radiated from him, stopping Fatty Wang’s hand mid-air.

He glanced coldly at this loudmouthed little fatty with chaotic energy—if not for sensing his close bond with his master, he’d have already lashed out.

"Little Qilin, you’ve got great insight! Stick with us, and I guarantee you’ll eat well and drink well. Resources for cultivation will be abundant, and in no time, you’ll crush Wang Zhan underhoof with ease!"

Fatty Wang showed no sign of discouragement, patting his chest confidently. Then, blinking his tiny eyes, he gave what he thought was an innocent, wide-eyed smile—one that was actually quite sly.

"So, to show how sincere I am, can I take a ride on you? Just once!"

His eyes glimmered as his little plan clicked audibly in his mind. This was a Qilin!

A living divine beast!

If he could ride it for a spin, how awesome would that be?

At these words, the corner of Fang Hanyu’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

Even Ling Xi cast a slightly odd glance in his direction.

Mo Yu’s red-gold pupils contracted briefly, and he snorted two streams of hot breath laced with embers, hitting the ground in front of Fatty Wang with a soft "sizzle."

He slowly raised his massive head, looking down at this conceited little fatty beneath him, and let out a deep, warning growl from his throat.

If not for the circumstances and his master, he’d really have wanted to swat this clueless idiot flying with one paw.

"Show some respect."

Xiao Ruobai gently tapped Fatty Wang on the head. To Mo Yu, he said, "This is my fourth junior brother. His temperament is a bit flighty, but he means no harm."

Only then did Mo Yu retract his aura, responding in a muffled voice, "Yes, Master."

But when his gaze swept over Fatty Wang, it was still filled with undisguised disdain.