Bitter Realm: A Happy Person Traveling Across China

"Practicing Emei has fallen into their trap!"

Demonic consciousness and spiritual insight paled in horror, realizing they had fallen into a trap. But with the arrow already on the bowstring, they had no choice but to release it. At the same time, they roared and each unleashed a powerful burst of demonic energy that shot straight into the sky, attempting to interrupt Lian Emei's descent.

On Ping Mountain, Lian Emei remained calm, facing the two fierce demonic energies that attacked her with a mere flick of her sleeve.

"Um?"

Without any apparent effort, two pure and holy palm strikes arrived first, seemingly gentle yet containing unparalleled power. The moment they came into contact with the demonic energy, they vanished without a trace, their momentum undiminished, precisely striking the demonic consciousness and spiritual perception below!

"Wow!"

"what!"

Amidst screams, the two prophets, Demon Sense and Spirit Observation, could not withstand this casual blow. Their demonic bodies shattered on the spot, turning into ashes!

Colorful clouds slowly descended, and Lian Emei stepped into the mortal world, her Taoist posture dignified and unapproachable.

Xie Hui, Yao Wen, Gui Zhi, and Ming Jian were both shocked and furious, but they knew the power of practicing Emei. At this moment, their only chance was to fight desperately!

The four exchanged glances, simultaneously unleashing their full power, and launched their strongest attacks from four different directions, launching a combined assault on Lian Emei!

"Damn it! Let's fight her! Drink!"

"ah!"

"drink!"

"ah!"

Faced with the combined attack of the four prophets, Lian Emei still kept one hand behind her back, her expression calm, but she raised her other hand, palm down, and gently pressed it down.

"Broken Duckweed!"

The three words were uttered softly, yet they sounded like the divine pronouncements of Heaven.

Immediately following, a vast and irresistible current of air emanated from Lian Emei and spread outwards in all directions.

Wherever the airflow passed, space seemed to freeze, and the four ferocious demonic attacks melted and disintegrated instantly, like ice and snow meeting the sun!

"No--"

"Wow!"

"what!"

"Ugh!"

Yao Wen and Xie Hui were the first to be hit. Their demonic bodies were torn apart and pulverized like paper in the massive airflow, and their screams came to an abrupt end.

Although Guizhi and Mingjian were in the rear, they were also severely injured, their demonic energy dissipated, and they spat out blood.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" Gui Zhi roared in terror, disregarding everything else, and fled in a flash of light with the heavily injured Ming Jian.

With their commander fleeing, the demon army immediately lost its will to fight and retreated in disarray like a receding tide, disappearing completely in the blink of an eye.

"Good sister..." Jin Bazhen struggled to get up, looked at Lian Emei, and felt a sense of relief, almost unable to stand.

Lian Emei nodded slightly to her, said nothing more, and with a flick of her sleeve, colorful clouds lifted Jin Bazhen and herself, transforming into a streak of light and disappearing into the horizon.

The desolate landscape returned to silence, with only the mess and bloodstains on the ground telling the story of the tragedy that had just occurred.

Seeing the scene before him, Ye Jinming couldn't help but sigh, "As expected of the leader of the Daoist sect, she came out carrying a mountain. Just ask—"

Who else?

It wasn't a wasted trip; I came all this way just to watch the drama unfold. It was worth it.

Only in this way can the extraordinary and transcendent grandeur of Lian Emei's ascension to immortality be highlighted.

Ascending to Immortality is a female innate cultivator in the Daoist world. Her cultivation has reached the realm of ascending to immortality. She is aloof and pure, steady and calm. She knows her destiny and understands the secrets of heaven. She is single-mindedly seeking the path to immortality and has a thorough understanding of the principles of heaven and the cycle of the Daoist world.

Appearing gracefully as a savior, she leads the righteous path in resisting the otherworldly demon realm and plots a scheme to subdue the demons with swords and spears.

She half-covered her face with a mask, and because her constitution could not tolerate the turbid air of the mortal world, she lived in Pingshan for a long time.

As for why he covered his face, we have to mention a certain ugly but scheming perverted little dragon who laughed out loud.

At this moment, Tan Wuyu looked at Ye Jinming, who was watching the show from the side, and stepped forward to ask, "Thank you for your help, sir."

Ye Jinming waved his hand, interrupting Tan Wuyu, "Ha, I already said there's no need for thanks, Senior Tan!"

"Oh?" Taken aback by the stranger's teasing, Tan Wuyu asked, "Young friend, do you know me?"

Ye Jinming bowed slightly. "As Butterfly-kun's former imagined rival in love, he used to complain to me a lot about you, senior."

Upon hearing that he learned about Tan Wuyu from Butterfly Lord, he couldn't help but sigh and smile wryly, "Butterfly Lord? He probably doesn't have anything nice to say!"

Ye Jinming smiled, a hint of amusement in his voice, and said, "It's alright, after all, I still have my own judgment!"

Tan Wuyu asked with some doubt, "Hmm? What is your assessment, young friend?"

Ye Jinming then said mysteriously, "Judgment isn't important; what's important is that your luck might not be particularly good lately!"

After saying that, Ye Jinming turned and left, leaving Tan Wuyu somewhat puzzled...

Just then, heavy footsteps came from outside.

Ye Xiaochai, carrying the still-warm but now cold body of Tianxian Daocang, walked slowly in, one after the other, while Yu Renfeijing, who had sheathed his sword and had a solemn expression.

They all bore the marks and exhaustion of the fierce battle.

Ye Xiaochai silently and gently placed Tianxian Daocang's body in front of Mu Shaoai.

Mu Shaoai looked at Tianxian Daocang's lifeless body, and at his eyes that remained open until death, reflecting the sky.

His usual composure, optimism, and even the relaxed smile that always graced his lips to mask the heavy burden in his heart, shattered and crumbled completely at this moment.

"A natural barrier... a hidden sword... ah..."

A suppressed, mournful cry was squeezed out from his throat.

Mu Shaoai slowly knelt down, reached out his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly, and gently stroked Tianxian Daocang's cold eyelids, closing his eyes that refused to close.

A drop of scalding liquid unexpectedly slid down the pharmacist's cheek and dripped onto the deceased's blood-stained clothes.

Tears of heroes, shed for heroes.

Even in a chaotic situation, Mu Shaoai must remain calm and composed; even under pressure from all sides, he must maintain his optimism. This is his mask, and also his responsibility.

However, at this moment, facing yet another shadow of death, and with his friend's cold body before him, he could no longer force a smile.

Mu Shaoai bent down and, with extreme care and weight, lifted Tianxian Daocang's body.

The weight of that body seemed to crush the last bit of strength he had left to hold on.

He stopped looking at anyone and saying anything, and simply held his friend, slowly and unsteadily walking towards the desolate edge of the Land of Nothingness.

The moonlight stretched his shadow long, very long, overlapping with the figure of the deceased in his arms, a scene of desolation and loneliness.

Seeing this, Tan Wuyu felt the same grief and wanted to say something, but Yu Renfeijing raised his hand, gently pressed his shoulder, and shook his head.

At this moment, any words are superfluous, and any disturbance would be a desecration of this profound grief.

With a blade bound and a knife concealed, Yan Weihuan wanders the world, carrying wine in the cold.

Forgetting worldly cares, I travel far from the battlefield, drunk on the battlefield, never to return.

No east wind rises before my eyes; my lofty aspirations fade as dusk falls, and my yellow robes grow cold.

A hollow reputation comes but no substance, leaving only empty words to others to compose mournful poems for…

The setting sun, like blood, illuminated the lonely departing figure against the backdrop of this desolate wilderness that had just experienced life and death and returned to deathly silence.

An atmosphere of mournful lamentation lingered...