The Power of the Moon

The Fourth Patriarch pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling a splitting headache coming on.

He had finally understood. Those two old scoundrels hadn’t merely robbed Shi Wanshan—they also intended to pin the blame on the nonexistent “villain from the Imperial Tomb” and quietly pocket the profits themselves.

“Fine!” The Fourth Patriarch waved a hand, giving up on trying to reason with them. After all, those two rascals had never been reasonable to begin with.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry!”

The Second Ancestor thumped his chest in reassurance.

“He’s one of our own. Do you really think we’d hurt him badly? We only used a little trick to let him sleep for a while. At most, he’ll wake up with a slightly sore neck.

“We even left him a few life-saving treasures. That’s pretty thoughtful of us, isn’t it?”

The Third Patriarch cut in, a trace of barely concealed excitement in his voice.

“Oh, right. Fourth, you didn’t see the fortune that boy Shi had on him. It was incredibly substantial—far richer than that Purple-Robed Saint!”

“Wait. You robbed him, and you even left him some life-saving treasures?”

“Exactly, exactly! What if he ran into danger and accidentally got himself killed? That’s why we left him a few treasures.” The Third Patriarch looked as though he were waiting to be praised.

“You two!” The Fourth Patriarch rubbed his forehead.

“What decent person robs someone and then leaves them trump cards? That practically screams that the robbery was committed by someone he knows!”

The Second Ancestor gave an awkward chuckle. “It’s not that obvious. That kid’s thick as a brick. He might not think things through that deeply!”

The Third Patriarch nodded along. “Exactly. We’ve already figured out how to lecture him when we return his treasures.”

As he spoke, he couldn’t help imagining the wonderful scene to come.

He could practically see himself sitting upright on the Dao Comprehension Platform, his expression solemn and dignified, his gaze deep and profound.

Shi Wanshan would stand below him with his hands hanging at his sides, his face filled with the relief of having survived a disaster and gratitude toward the “senior expert.” There might even be a hint of regret over his own “carelessness.”

Then the Third Patriarch would leisurely take a sip of tea and speak in a grave tone filled with both exasperation at a disappointing junior and a subtle “Thank goodness I was here” attitude:

“Wanshan, you were far too careless in the Imperial Tomb this time! How could you have fallen into their trap so easily, taken a blow to the back of the head, and been stripped clean? You’ve completely disgraced our Qingxuan Sect!”

Once he saw Shi Wanshan’s face flush red and his head bow in shame, he would sigh at just the right moment. Then, with a turn of his palm, he would reveal the treasure that had just so happened to be recovered by the senior expert and just so happened to have been entrusted to him.

What a perfect script!

It would showcase his care and authority as an ancestor, while also providing a perfectly reasonable explanation for where the treasures had gone.

It would even teach Shi Wanshan a profound lesson—a triple victory!

He, the Third Patriarch, was truly a genius at educating—cough, manipulating—his juniors!

The more the Third Patriarch imagined it, the more smug and expectant his smile became. He was practically intoxicated by the vision.

The Fourth Patriarch watched the Third Patriarch lose himself in his beautiful fantasy, looking almost blissful.

Then he recalled the faint, frustrated, and furious roar that his divine sense had vaguely picked up from somewhere in the Imperial Tomb.

The corner of his mouth twitched violently.

He could almost foresee the “harmonious” scene that would unfold in the Azure Profound Sect before long: the entire sect thrown into chaos as a certain Peak Master chased a Patriarch around with a spiked club.

The Fourth Patriarch shook his head helplessly, banishing the chaotic image from his mind as his spiritual sense instinctively swept across the turmoil within the Emperor’s Tomb.

By now, the battles over the various side halls had reached a fever pitch, with opportunity and slaughter going hand in hand.

Inside one great hall, the demon race and the Lingxiao Holy Land had clashed over a Seven-Colored Illusory Heart Lotus.

In the end, Ling Canglan proved superior and escaped with the treasure, drawing furious roars from the South Domain Demon Lord. With nowhere else to vent his rage, the Demon Lord turned on the smaller factions nearby, plundering them with tyrannical abandon. The victims were furious, yet none dared speak out.

Elsewhere, amid the ruins of a shattered formation nexus, the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion used its profound divination arts to avoid the hidden dangers and quietly obtained an Innate Trigram Tortoiseshell tied to the secret arts of heavenly divination.

Within a sword-tomb hall, Wang Zhan relied on the overwhelming might of his Heavenly Firmament Sacred Body to forcibly subdue several rivals and seize a fragment of an ancient sword imbued with an archaic battle soul.

The moment the broken blade entered his grasp, its boundless battle intent resonated with the sacred blood in his veins. His aura surged dramatically, and his gaze sharpened like a flash of lightning.

Similar scenes unfolded one after another throughout the countless halls of the Emperor’s Tomb.

At that moment, Yaochi Sovereign Ji Qingyi was leading several Holy Land elders through a relatively intact ancient hall.

They had just neutralized a concealed killing formation and recovered several ancient treasures.

Though none could be considered earth-shattering, they were still of considerable value.

Suddenly, a faint trace of surprise flickered through Ji Qingyi’s cool, clear eyes.

In that fleeting instant, she had detected a wisp of power—subtle and ethereal, yet extraordinarily pure. It was the power of Taiyin.

The fluctuation vanished as quickly as it appeared, almost like an illusion. Had she not possessed the Taiyin Divine Body and senses far beyond the ordinary, she likely would never have noticed it.

More importantly, that trace of Taiyin power carried an ancient, desolate aura and an immutable chill that seemed to have endured since time immemorial. It faintly resonated with the source of her Taiyin Divine Body, exerting a subtle yet unmistakable pull upon her.

“Sovereign?”

Behind her, Yaochi’s First Elder—a woman whose aura was deep and steady, and whose cultivation had already reached the Saint King Realm—immediately noticed Ji Qingyi’s unusual reaction and spoke in a low voice.

Ji Qingyi raised a slender, jade-like hand, signaling for everyone to remain silent.

She closed her eyes and pushed the senses of her Taiyin Divine Body to their utmost. The moonlight surrounding her withdrew inward, and her entire being seemed to merge with the darkness around her as she carefully sought the lingering traces of the vanished fluctuation.

Several breaths later, she slowly opened her eyes. They had regained their usual tranquil depth.

“There is something unusual ahead. I sensed a unique Taiyin aura that bears some compatibility with my constitution. The restrictions here are exceedingly complex; too many people would only prove inconvenient.”

She turned to the Saint King First Elder.

“First Elder, remain here with the others for the time being. Set up the Yaochi Immortal Light Formation for protection and search this hall thoroughly—there may still be opportunities we have overlooked. I will follow the resonance and investigate. I won’t be long.”

“Sovereign, the dangers of this place are unknown. You intend to go alone?”

Concern appeared on the First Elder’s face. The Sovereign was the pillar of Yaochi; no harm could be allowed to befall her.

“There is no need to worry.”

Ji Qingyi gently shook her head, her tone calm yet brimming with confidence.

“I know my limits. That aura resonates with me—perhaps it is a fortuitous opportunity meant for me. If the situation proves untenable, I will retreat.”

Seeing that the Holy Lord had made up her mind, the Great Elder offered no further objections. Bowing, he said, “Understood. Please be careful, Holy Lord. We will await your return here.”

Ji Qingyi inclined her head slightly but said nothing more.

Her figure flickered as she followed the faint, almost imperceptible aura into the distance.

Half an incense stick later, Ji Qingyi stopped before a cracked wall. She could sense that the wisp of Extreme Yin energy was emanating from somewhere behind it.

She extended a slender finger, sending out a beam of Extreme Yin energy so condensed it seemed almost tangible.

Under the force of the silent strike, the already crumbling stone wall collapsed with a thunderous crash.

Behind it lay a narrow, shadowy passage whose destination was impossible to discern.

Murky gray mist permeated the passage. When she sent her spiritual sense inside, it met such overwhelming resistance that it felt as though it had sunk into a quagmire.

“This passage can even block spiritual sense. Just what lies within this place?”

After a moment’s contemplation, Ji Qingyi stepped into the passage, her white-clad figure instantly swallowed by the mist.

The deeper she ventured, the more oppressive the pressure emanating from the Emperor’s Tomb became.

The fabric of space itself seemed to grow unstable. From time to time, tiny black fissures—nearly invisible to the naked eye—flickered into existence, releasing a suction force that made her heart tremble.

Intermingled with the gray mist were strands of chaotic, violent residual energy, like fragments left behind after countless different Dao laws had collided and annihilated one another. The slightest contact with them could trigger an unpredictable backlash.