The mutual collapse and expansion of dimensional artifacts, ultimately detonated by a single hammer strike, even caused the external "Rivers and Mountains Scroll" to tremble.
Venerable Monk Huaikong's lips twitched slightly, his face filled with astonishment.
"Hmm? Abbot, when did you arrive?"
Murong Xiao leaned back slightly, then asked curiously:
"Is this your first time seeing someone stuff a dimensional artifact into another?"
As everyone knew, Venerable Monk Huaikong specialized in the Dao of the Tiny and Vast—the art of dimensional manipulation.
"Of course not."
"Oh? There’s another master? How did that person discover it?"
Murong Xiao wasn’t surprised that someone had tried this before. After all, the world was full of heroes as numerous as fish in a river—even a minor genius like him could think of it, so it wasn’t unusual.
But whoever did it definitely wasn’t as ridiculously wealthy as Brother Li.
"That person once obtained an extremely rare dimensional artifact by chance. Its space was vast, and its material was extraordinary, ranking among the finest of its kind."
"And then?" Murong Xiao grew more curious.
"That person was born in a perilous era, teetering on the brink of collapse, constantly facing crises and pursuits."
"He relied on that dimensional artifact to survive."
"When facing enemies, their fist strikes, arrows, and even... undergarments—ahem—in short, most attacks could be absorbed into the artifact and neutralized."
Venerable Monk Huaikong recounted calmly.
Murong Xiao rubbed his bald head: "That’s possible? Why didn’t I think of that... Wait, under-what?"
"Ordinary dimensional artifacts wouldn’t work. His was special."
Huaikong ignored the latter half of his question: "So one time, he accidentally absorbed an enemy’s dimensional artifact as well."
"Are there dimensional artifacts made from undergarments?"
"What undergarments?"
"Ah, I mean, what happened next?"
Murong Xiao quickly corrected himself, noticing his master signaling him with a glance. Following the gaze, he saw the abbot holding an alms bowl.
Oh. So that person was you.
"Naturally, something similar happened afterward, though not as intense. That person even turned misfortune into fortune, gaining some insight into the Dao of the Tiny and Vast..."
"So, Abbot, what did that undergarment look like?"
Murong Xiao asked with an innocent, earnest expression.
Venerable Monk Huaikong remained expressionless: "I’ve noticed your recent studies have been lacking. Copy the Buddhist scriptures ten times as punishment."
"???"
......
Under the imperial canopy.
"That hammer strike just now was quite intriguing."
Emperor Jingtai’s brows relaxed slightly, catching a glimpse of something unusual:
"It seems to share similarities with the Heavenly Sword of the Divine?"
"If he can harness this power to its fullest, perhaps the burden of repelling the Blood God will fall upon him."
Old Granny Yantian spoke, then shook her head.
Emperor Jingtai fell silent. He couldn’t tell whether the old woman meant it was impossible or simply beyond her sight.
Or perhaps both?
"This works?"
"It’s the first time something like this has happened. How should it be judged?"
"Since His Majesty hasn’t spoken, he likely permits it."
"I always thought it strange that Young Hero Li descended in the Human City. Turns out he had more than one chance."
"But if he reincarnates again, starting as a mortal, wouldn’t everything he’s done so far have to begin anew?"
The number of Celestials was fixed—only when one perished would another take their place.
In other words, Li Mo was either in the Earth City or the Human City.
As the old saying goes:
What’s the use of many attempts? Endurance is what truly matters.
......
Within the Celestial City’s trial realm.
Li Mo held Ying Bing’s slightly cold hand.
Opposite them, the unwilling hand withdrew into the coffin, and the sea of blood gradually receded into the alien soil, as if it had never appeared.
Yet the great sun, locked in confrontation with the frost moon, remained.
Earlier, the spirit of the "Rivers and Mountains Scroll" had reluctantly withdrawn its projection of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, but it was clearly far more persistent than the Blood God.
"You can’t keep me here."
Li Mo spoke first: "If you insist on a resolution, I can just leave and come back in again."
The great sun trembled slightly, as if deep in thought.
The rule was that trial-takers who died had to leave the Celestial City’s realm—but it never said they couldn’t enter a second time.
Or even go in and out repeatedly.
After a moment of silence, it replied:
"You must still be in the Human City."
"No problem."
Only after receiving Li Mo’s confirmation did the great sun slowly fade, returning the night to the dominion of the frost moon.
Li Mo exhaled in relief. After all, this was a destiny-altering artifact.
If it had been stubborn, he wouldn’t have had many more dimensional artifacts to throw away.
Above the clouds in the night sky, silence suddenly settled.
When Li Mo turned around, he saw Ying Bing quietly watching him, her eyelashes dyed silver-white by the moonlight—sacred yet tender.
Fifty years before the first heavenly calamity, he had descended into the Human City intending to refine his inner world.
He never expected Ying Bing to accompany him through an entire, ordinary lifetime from start to finish.
They say that familiarity breeds contempt—that red roses fade into mere stains, and white moonlight dulls into plain rice.
But at this moment, with her hand in his, "Frostmoon" still held a faint glimmer of anticipation in her eyes.
As if looking forward to experiencing another mortal life with him, this time differently.
"Frostmoon, if I reincarnate again, how about I become a wandering blade-for-hire and roam the martial world?"
"Alright."
"How do you know I’ll recognize you? What if someone else accompanies me on my adventures?"
Ying Bing frowned slightly, then relaxed, her voice cool and clear: "There wasn’t anyone in Dawang Village, and there won’t be in the future."
Unbeknownst to him, Little Li—once Village Chief Li—had been under Frostmoon’s thumb for half a lifetime.
Frostmoon seemed unusually powerful within this Celestial City realm.
Was it because she held half of the Phoenix Domain?
Little Li, thoroughly outmaneuvered, felt his rebellious streak flare up:
"Who knows how things will turn out? Roaming the martial world isn’t like farming. Swordsmen are either emotionless or wanderers—and they love showing off."
His words echoed beyond the "Rivers and Mountains Scroll."
"Slander! That’s slander! I’m not like that!" Xie Xuan and Wu Chushu protested loudly.
"Then I... won’t be unhappy..."
Ying Bing lowered her dimmed eyes, pursing her lips as she looked away.
"Achoo!"
Li Mo sneezed, unsure whether his conscience was pricking him or someone was cursing him: "You’re already unhappy now."
"I’m not. The wind is too strong. I’m a little cold."
"Frostmoon, you’ve not only gotten stronger but also more childish. Shouldn’t experts grow colder the higher they climb?"
"It is cold. Li Mo, you’re the childish one."
Li Mo laughed.
A series of system notifications chimed—accumulated rewards from his time in the Celestial City, too numerous to count.
But he couldn’t care less, only finding Ying Bing’s expression amusingly silly.
Yet the moment the thought arose, warmth brushed against his neck—a ticklish sensation so vivid it felt real despite his spiritual form.
Li Mo touched his neck, certain a red mark had been left behind. Whatever Frostmoon had done, this seal would likely follow him into his next incarnation.
"??"
"Just a little seal."
Li Mo was joking, and Ying Bing knew he was doing it on purpose.
But despite her usual composure when facing the Scroll of Rivers and Mountains and the Blood God earlier, she couldn’t help feeling that this was a safer bet.
After biting, Ying Bing looked up at him, her autumn-like eyes rippling with faint waves.
Damn it, does that icy block think she’s got me wrapped around her finger again?
Li Mo rubbed the back of his head.
Huh, where’s my defiance gone?
world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
