Isn't it enough for me to be your support Heavenly Palace, Heavenly Soldiers, Monkey.

Little Li's cheeks were slightly squished out of shape by a pair of delicate, boneless hands.

The Ice Block (Ying Bing) wasn’t laughing, but she didn’t say anything either. She just stared at him with those mesmerizing eyes, her gaze so intense it made his heart flutter uncomfortably.

It was a bit hard to handle.

Li Mo had many reasons for staying, but the Ice Block’s reason was much simpler—just one person.

So, Little Li couldn’t hold out anyway.

Gently, he took her pale hands in his. Her fingers were cold, so he warmed them between his palms.

As he massaged her hands, Li Mo spoke:

"I have a technique that lets me traverse thousands of miles in an instant, and there’s also the Buddhist prayer beads Brother Murong gave me—I can return to the Hanging Temple in a flash..."

"I always have a way out. But even though you’re fast, escaping might not be so easy for you."

"Right now, the soldiers in the city see me as their pillar. If even I leave, what hope will they have to keep fighting?"

"Han Zhen won’t let this go."

"Next time we face him, we won’t have an army at our backs."

Gradually, the little hands in his palms grew warm.

Strangely enough, these hands—so fierce when wielding a sword to slay demons—felt so soft and fragrant when held like this.

In the end, it was Li Mo himself who didn’t want to let go.

Ying Bing lowered her gaze to the young man, seeing a rare determination and resolve on his usually boyish, cheerful face.

If Han Zhen didn’t die, the crisis in Qingmu City would never end.

If Han Zhen didn’t die, there would always be those coveting the Nine Souls of the Nine-Colored Phoenix, leaving endless trouble in their wake.

But Han Zhen wasn’t alone—behind him stood the Demon-Summoning Sect and the remnants of the Great Shang Dynasty.

"He’s just the Great Shang’s Imperial Preceptor."

"I want to try ending this in one strike."

Li Mo didn’t flash his usual sunny smile.

Instead, he mimicked the Ice Block’s expression—cool, composed, and utterly confident.

Ice Block Face—Little Li Edition.

"Copying me?"

Ying Bing huffed and pulled her hand back, only to start kneading his face, squishing his high-and-mighty expression into silly shapes like she was playing with a big-headed doll.

But when she saw Little Li’s handsome, cheerful face twisted into ridiculous expressions, she couldn’t help but laugh, the ice in her jade-like features melting away.

"Then I can’t leave either."

"Huh?"

"The soldiers rely on you, so who will you rely on?"

Ying Bing tugged at his cheek as she spoke.

"Ice Block..."

Her smile faded, and the seriousness in her expression made Li Mo’s heart skip a beat.

What she was really saying was...

Then I’ll be your support.

And she said it with such conviction.

Somehow, when the Ice Block said things like this in her cool, detached way, it sounded especially domineering.

"Let’s go back first."

Li Mo thought it over and agreed.

If they were going all out, they needed to prepare—starting with bringing themselves to peak condition.

He really did need a quiet place.

He’d been too busy after comprehending the Somersault Cloud.

He still hadn’t had time to further study the Monkey Seeks the Dao painting.

......

Central Command Tent

Qu Sheng had finally finished strategizing with his officers for the next day’s battle.

The generals dispersed to attend to their duties, leaving him alone, polishing a spear he hadn’t used in years.

As an outer-realm martial artist, he hadn’t fought personally in a long time.

A lifetime of war had left him with old injuries that never fully healed. Besides, as the commander, he couldn’t lead the charge like the common soldiers.

Unless there was no other choice.

As he wiped the spearhead, he suddenly thought of something and asked his guard:

"Where are Young Hero Li and the Cold Fairy?"

"Commander, they’ve already left the camp."

"Good, good that they left..."

Qu Sheng murmured to himself, as if relieved.

He looked down at his old companion, now gleaming under the candlelight, reflecting a pair of weary eyes.

Once, those eyes had been bright and full of vigor.

Holding the spear again, he felt as if he were staring into the eyes of his younger self, lost in thought.

......

Tailscale Tavern, the same private room.

The streets outside were deserted, every door shut tight. Even the sugar-painting stall was gone. The tavern owner, now missing an arm, had joined the militia to help transport supplies.

The room was silent.

Tonight, the glow of the Jade Phoenix’s divine light was especially radiant.

Li Mo could sense it—the Ice Block was about to take another step forward on her path of the Hundred Avian Phoenix Form.

After watching her for a moment, he took out the Monkey Seeks the Dao painting.

At last, he could continue deciphering this extreme form.

Though calling it an "extreme form" might not be accurate.

The divine abilities imprinted on his soul from this painting were unlike anything he’d gained from other divine intents. It was as if the painting preserved these abilities in the form of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths Divine Visualization.

If an extreme form was already like this...

What about a Great Dao Divine Form?

Li Mo’s eyes burned with determination as he took out the Gilded Creation Seal.

This small seal, brimming with infinite mysteries—a true embodiment of creation—was pressed onto the painting.

Hum—

The moment the seal touched the paper, the stone monkey markings on Li Mo’s soul resonated with a deafening chime, audible only to him.

It seemed... excited?

Just like the excitement surging in Li Mo’s heart.

Tadpole-like golden runes flared up like flames, reducing the Monkey Seeks the Dao painting to ashes. Wisps of golden light flowed into Li Mo’s soul, merging with the divine markings.

In his eyes, crimson-gold fire began to spread.

"Hm?"

Ying Bing opened her eyes slightly and glanced at the young man’s back.

He still sat there, seemingly lost in thought.

Yet...

Something about him felt different?

She could only vaguely sense it—unable to see the visions unfolding in Li Mo’s eyes.

Energy gathered endlessly around him.

It felt as if his soul had left his body, arriving in another world.

He looked up.

Above the clouds stood a celestial palace—a thousand times more real, a thousand times more magnificent, a thousand times more divine than anything in his inner world.

The figures standing atop the clouds weren’t particularly tall, but their auras were overwhelming.

The wind carried down the sound of fluttering banners and an oppressive, murderous intent.

Li Mo couldn’t make out their expressions, but every one of them was stronger than any martial artist he’d ever seen.

Compared to the pressure of the beast tide siege, this was like fireflies against the full moon.

Yet, this rain of killing intent couldn’t extinguish a single torch.

A pair of eyes burned like eternal flames, seeming to pierce through all falsehoods. Though their gaze was fixed in the distance, Li Mo felt as if they’d never left him.

The figure was clad in golden chainmail, slightly slender, with a phoenix-winged crown atop its head. In its hands was an iron staff, capped with gold hoops at both ends. Near the hoops, engraved characters shimmered faintly.

Li Mo froze.

Key details:

Celestial palace. Heavenly soldiers. A monkey.