After the Great Dao died

Chen Lingxi stepped over the threshold, her pupils suddenly contracting.

He saw the mountains and rivers.

Beautiful mountains and rivers.

The mountains rise and fall, layer upon layer, with distant mountains appearing dark and nearby ridges shrouded in verdant green.

A stream meanders through the mountains, its waters clear and blue, shimmering like scattered gold in the sunlight.

The mountainside is shrouded in mist, wisps of which obscure the peaks.

Only... the sunlight in the sky is not sunlight.

Chen Ling looked up—

There was no sun in the sky.

There was only one jade bottle.

The jade bottle hung high up, its body as white as jade, with a faint shimmering light.

With the bottle mouth facing down, a purple radiance poured out from it, like a purple waterfall cascading between heaven and earth, illuminating the entire mountain range.

Chen Lingxi's pupils constricted!

He recognized the jade bottle.

On Mount Cuojin, a swordsman carries out an assassination!

The thing that the boy with the purple and gold crown was holding was this!

From this object emanated an incomparably thick and powerful aura of purple true treasure, intent on slaying the assassin.

And now, the wisp of purple true treasure energy in his dantian comes from this!

"It's not just this Purple True Treasure Qi!"

Chen Lingxi carefully sensed it, and his spiritual energy detected an ancient aura wafting towards him.

The aura was extremely dense and heavy, as if it had been accumulated over millions of years, making it difficult for people to breathe.

It is not sharp, not fierce, and not even aggressive.

It is simply—old.

It is so aged that it seems to have existed since the beginning of time, so aged that it seems as if time itself has solidified into a tangible form.

Chen Lingxi's breath hitched slightly.

He had experienced that feeling before.

"The Candle of Time".

When the Candle Cauldron opened its eyes, the ancient aura that rushed towards it was extremely similar to the one before it.

The light of the candle was heavier and darker, carrying a sense of weariness and decline.

The one before me was clearer, brighter, and carried a vibrant, almost arrogant—youthful energy.

"Old yet young?"

This feels so weird.

Chen Lingxi took a deep breath.

He finally understood.

"This Beast Fighting Palace... is it a fragment of a cauldron, or perhaps a cauldron itself?"

Chen Lingxi stood on a gentle slope, taking in the view of the sky with the jade bottle hanging above it and the continuous mountains, and had already made up his mind.

"The cauldron... is exactly the same as the Time Candle." He murmured to himself, his gaze sweeping over the distant, layered mountains and settling into the deeper forests and ravines.

Just then, a muffled thud suddenly erupted from the distant mountains and forests.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was so deep it sounded like someone was beating a drum underground, making the surrounding leaves rustle.

Chen Lingxi looked in the direction of the sound and saw two figures colliding in a mountain hollow three miles away.

They are two "beasts fighting"!

One of them wielded a knife, its blade flashing like a bolt of lightning, slicing through the surrounding bushes until the branches and leaves flew everywhere; the other wielded a long spear, its tip creating large, bowl-sized spear flowers, each thrust aimed precisely at the opponent's throat and heart.

Both were at the Bronze Crimson Realm, their blood and qi as fiery as fire. Every time their weapons clashed, they sparked a shower of fire, illuminating the dark mountain valley with flickering light.

Chen Lingxi did not move.

He stood atop the slope, quietly watching the battle from the cover of a few low pines.

The man wielding the knife gradually gained the upper hand.

His swordsmanship wasn't particularly exquisite, but its strength lay in its speed. Each strike was faster than the last, like a summer downpour pounding on a banana leaf, leaving no room for the wind.

The man wielding the spear was not as strong as him to begin with, and now he was forced to retreat repeatedly, his spear technique was in disarray, and his footwork was also scattered.

With a flash of light, the man wielding the gun broke in two, the cut as smooth as a mirror.

Another flash of light, and his head flew off.

Fresh blood gushed out.

Chen Ling saw it clearly.

The body of the man wielding the gun suddenly twitched, then dissolved, and then a ray of light slowly rose from his skull!

The light was extremely faint and pale, milky white in color, like a thin column of smoke rising from the top of his head, circling three times, before drifting leisurely towards the man wielding the knife.

The man wielding the knife was squatting on the ground rummaging through his opponent's corpse when he was startled by the sudden flash of light. He jumped back abruptly, holding his knife horizontally in front of his chest.

But the light ignored his guard and floated lightly down on his head, hanging there like a tiny moon, emitting a faint glow.

The man was stunned for a moment, then reached out to touch his head, but his hand passed right through the light and he couldn't feel anything.

He was both surprised and suspicious. He looked around but couldn't figure out what it was, so he gave up and walked into the depths of the mountain valley with his knife.

The light above his head followed him closely, never leaving his side.

Chen Lingxi saw all of this and had already gained some understanding.

"This light... is probably related to this cauldron."

"The vessels used in the tripod have their own rules."

Just as the candle of time exchanges its lifespan for opportunity, this place, though a fragment of a vessel, must also have its own rules.

He withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at the retreating figure of the man wielding the knife.

"In this world, my immediate priority is to conceal my presence, ascertain the situation, and wait until these fighting beasts have exhausted themselves in the battle before dealing with the strongest among them."

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, concealing his aura even more tightly.

The Concealing Edge Technique circulated silently within the body, and the azure Qi in the dantian was wrapped in an extremely thin and tough barrier, keeping it secret from being leaked out.

He suppressed the unique silvery-white radiance of the Silver Bone Realm beneath his skin to almost nothing.

He looked around and chose a towering ancient locust tree.

The locust tree was extremely thick, with its trunk requiring three or four people to encircle it. Its canopy blocked out the sky, and its branches and leaves were layered upon each other, so dense that they were almost impossible to see.

"And hide it in a tree."

He walked to the tree, lightly touched the trunk with his toes, and leaped up, disappearing silently into the depths of the canopy like a night cat.

He found a thick branch, sat cross-legged, leaned against the trunk, and his whole body blended into the dense shadows of the tree.

The wind blew, and the locust leaves rustled, completely masking his breathing and heartbeat.

He sat there, motionless.

Two hours have passed.

Shouts of battle, the clash of weapons, and the screams of the dying echoed from the mountains and forests from time to time. Each sound, whether near or far, was carried to his ears by the mountain wind.

In the distance, rays of light would occasionally rise on the horizon, sometimes one, sometimes two or three at the same time, hanging eerily above the heads of the victors.

Chen Lingxi remained motionless.

He can kill, but he should kill as few of these pointless acts as possible.

He is waiting.

Once those fighting beasts have exhausted each other.

More than an hour later, the sounds in the mountains and forests gradually became sparse.

Just then, he heard footsteps.

The footsteps were extremely heavy and steady, each step on the rocks sounding as if measured with a ruler, with the distance between each step perfectly precise.

Amidst the footsteps, there was also a very soft humming.

The song was in a colloquial style, which Chen Lingxi had never heard before.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked down through the gaps in the branches and leaves.

His pupils suddenly contracted.

"Chou Chi Hu?"

But then they saw that Qiu Chihu was coming from the other end of the mountain path.

He was still dressed in that black outfit, with the long sword hanging at his waist.

His steps were light, a smile on his face, and he was humming a tune, like a young pleasure-seeker going to drink and carouse!

But he didn't look like someone who was seeking pleasure.

His robes were splattered with blood.

His right hand remained pressed on the hilt of the knife; the knuckles of that hand were large, the veins on the back of the hand were bulging, and dark red blood and mud were embedded in the nail crevices.

Ten beams of light hung above his head.

Ten beams of true light, milky white with a hint of gold, were arranged in a neat row, like a crown woven from starlight, placed on his head.

Chen Lingxi's gaze swept over the ten beams of true light, and his heart sank slightly.

Ten beams of light signify at least ten lives lost.

Chen Ling couldn't wash it, nor did she look at it.

He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, slowed his heartbeat, and became one with the old locust tree, like a piece of moss growing on the tree.

Qiu Chihu walked to the tree, suddenly stopped, raised his head, and looked at the towering ancient locust tree.

Through her slits, Chen Ling saw his gaze sweep across the treetops, as if searching for something.

A moment later, Qiu Chihu withdrew his gaze, shook his head, walked past the tree, and continued forward.

Chen Lingxi remained motionless.

Only after the footsteps completely disappeared at the end of the mountain path in the distance did he slowly open his eyes and exhale a long breath.

Several muffled thuds echoed from the distant mountain valley, causing the locust leaves to rustle for a moment before falling silent again. Then, a new light shone in the distance.

The light and shadow in the tree canopy shifted from dark to light, and then from light to dark again.

After an unknown amount of time, footsteps approached from afar, heading towards the old locust tree.

Then, a scream!

The scream was extremely short, as if someone had choked it, and it only lasted for half a sound before it stopped abruptly.

This was followed by a dull thud as the heavy object fell to the ground, and then a cheerful laugh.

Chen Ling looked down through the gaps in the leaves.

There was one more person under the tree; to be precise, there was one more corpse.

The light above the corpse's head was slowly rising and drifting to the side.

Chen Lingxi's gaze followed the light.

Two people were standing in the open space under the tree.

One of them was none other than Sun Ninghu!

It was the "beast" under Princess Yunhe's command who wanted to break his leg!

He was still wearing that dark brown short-sleeved shirt, his arms were bulging with muscles, his ten fingers were slightly spread like tiger claws, and blood was still dripping from his fingertips.

Two beams of light hung above his head.

At this moment, Sun Ninghu was panting heavily, his chest heaving violently, and there was a deep knife wound on his right arm that exposed the bone, from which blood was gushing out.

Standing opposite him was Qiu Chihu.

He still had that same smiling look, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other behind his back.

The rays of light above his head were neatly arranged, gleaming faintly in the sunlight.

But now there are fifteen.

He tilted his head, looking at Sun Ninghu as if he were looking at an interesting toy.

"Ferocious Tiger?" Qiu Chihu spoke, his voice not loud, but drawn out with an undisguised contempt: "Why did you have to be called Ferocious Tiger of all names?"

"I am the real tiger."