Chapter 1956: Walking the Dog

"Fu Xi, you damn well have a problem!"

In the vast starry sky, this furious shout rang out loudly, emanating from a lifeless star, filled with raw anger and barely concealed pain.

Many passing cultivators heard the curse and suddenly halted in the starry sky, gazing toward the desolate star with expressions of shock.

Everyone knew that Fu Xi was the imperial title of the Human Emperor, a name that shook the ancients and illuminated history. To curse such a supreme figure so brazenly was utterly audacious.

"The heavens truly produce talents in every era," an elder cultivator muttered, standing on tiptoe to peer into the distance. However, his cultivation was limited, and his vision fell short; he couldn't see who was shouting, only that the curses grew more furious with each one.

"Let's go take a look," the cultivators said, forming groups of three or five as they stepped onto the star, eager to see who dared to insult the Human Emperor so boldly.

But as soon as they entered, they were met with a massive hand.

Before long, they were all sent flying out, not by wind but by a single palm strike, each one hurtling an unknown distance away.

This made the cultivators who hadn't yet entered turn and flee.

Clearly, this ancient star harbored someone with immense power and a foul temper—stepping carelessly inside could mean total destruction.

The noisy starry sky fell silent as the cultivators scattered, but the excited shouts continued unabated.

Upon closer inspection, it was Ye Chen, huddled in a remote mountain nook, clutching his head and howling. His eyes were bloodshot, a deep crimson, with veins bulging on his forehead like a maddened lion, each roar a soul-shattering bellow.

The words echoed relentlessly in his mind: "If killing Ye Fan could save all living beings, how would you choose?"

Ever since half a month ago, Ren Wang had brought him to this lifeless ancient star and imprinted those words as a curse seal directly into his divine sea.

The curse was terrifying—impossible to erase and impossible to ignore. It repeated endlessly, like a demonic chant bent on devouring him or a Buddhist incantation intent on enlightening him.

Meanwhile, Ren Wang was utterly relaxed, lounging on a rock with his legs crossed, a rare edition in his hands. He sipped wine with relish while chuckling at the erotic illustrations, completely ignoring Ye Chen's curses.

"Are you sick? You damn well have a problem!"

Ye Chen kept shouting, cursing by name, then clutching his head and groaning in pain.

"Is this really so hard to choose?" Ren Wang asked with a laugh, speaking leisurely. "Give me an answer, and the curse will lift naturally."

"Go to hell with your answer."

Ye Chen snarled, itching to strangle Ren Wang. It was all too easy for him to say—choosing between his child and all living beings was a brutal dilemma.

After all, among those so-called living beings were his daughter, wife, brothers, and old friends. How could he possibly decide?

"No answer? That's fine. I'll wait for you—I have all the time in the world." Ren Wang replied casually, then pulled out a magnifying glass and went back to studying his rare edition, acting infuriatingly smug.

Compared to him, Ye Chen was in utter misery, curled up on the ground with his head in his hands, roaring in agony. Those same words thundered in his divine sea like relentless lightning, making his skull feel ready to burst.

Time slipped away like flowing sand, day by day, month by month.

Ye Chen's roars didn't fade with the passage of time; instead, they echoed even louder into the vast starry sky.

Soon, groups of people arrived, curious to enter and see what was happening. But awkwardly, as soon as they stepped in, they were sent packing by Ren Wang's palm before they could even catch their breath.

As time went on, no one dared come seeking trouble anymore; they just lingered outside the ancient star, buzzing with discussions and wild speculations.

Spring turned to autumn, flowers bloomed and withered—in the blink of an eye, another ten years had passed. Adding to the previous fifty, it made sixty years of turbulent history.

Throughout those ten years, Ren Wang and Ye Chen hadn't left the ancient star.

Ren Wang remained as carefree as ever, either sleeping or studying his rare edition, living quite elegantly. Ten years meant little to him—just a few long naps and yawns.

Ye Chen, however, was in a wretched state, slumped against a rock and breathing heavily. His eyes were bloodshot, his sockets deeply sunken from exhaustion and mental torment; he was truly suffering through each day as if it were a year.

For ten years, he hadn't slept a wink, forgetting what rest even felt like. His hair had turned white and disheveled, and his beard was a messy, grizzled tangle. He looked like nothing more than a decrepit old man.

Yet the merciless curse persisted, those words still resounding in his divine sea. Even his steadfast will was pushed to the brink of collapse after a full decade of torment. Anyone else would have crumbled long ago.

"If killing Ye Fan could save all living beings, how would you choose?"

Ren Wang awoke with a yawn, stretching lazily.

"I won't choose."

Ye Chen bellowed, his eyes blood-red and filled with frenzied rage, his face twisted in a savage grimace like a madman. After ten years of torture, he was on the edge of snapping.

"Excellent, you're a real man."

Ren Wang flipped off the rock.

To outsiders, this ten-year trial of the heart seemed to have ended, and even Ye Chen thought so himself.

But wishes are one thing; reality is another.

Ren Wang produced shackles, locking them around Ye Chen's wrists and ankles, then attached a cold iron chain—one end to the shackles, the other to the hilt of a flying sword.

"Let's go—grandpa's taking you for a stroll through the starry sky."

Ren Wang sat on the flying sword, channeling his power to send it soaring into the stars.

Ye Chen, at the other end of the chain, was dragged along, stumbling awkwardly in a humiliating display of Ren Wang's brute force.

He tried to break free, but the shackles and chain were etched with divine patterns and reinforced with sealing techniques. Even at the peak of Sheng Wang realm, he couldn't budge them, left with no choice but to be pulled along helplessly.

From afar, the scene was striking: disheveled and ragged, Ye Chen looked like a condemned prisoner being led to execution or a dog on a leash, wandering aimlessly through the stars under Ren Wang's control.

Who would have thought that the mighty Desolate Ancient Holy Body, once a ruthless slayer of emperors, could be reduced to such humiliation? It was a stark contrast to his former god of war persona, evoking sighs of pity.

In the vast starry sky, the clinking of the iron chain was crisp and clear.

Ren Wang slowed his pace, sitting on the flying sword as he drank wine and hummed a tune, clearly in high spirits.

"When I reach Zhun Di, I'll be the first to kill you."

Ye Chen, chained behind him, cursed repeatedly.

"Still threatening me?"

Ren Wang snorted, flicking a finger to send another beam of immortal light straight into Ye Chen's forehead.

The light formed yet another curse, manifesting vivid scenes in Ye Chen's divine sea: a dim world torn by an immortal demon war, cries of slaughter shaking the heavens, countless people dying in the skies, mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.

Ye Chen's mind was pulled into it—a true blood-soaked battlefield. He saw Ye Fan wielding a bloodstained sword, slaughtering indiscriminately. His daughter, wife, brothers, and old friends fell one by one, cut down by Ye Fan's blade.

"Illusion has no hold on me."

Ye Chen scoffed, escaping the illusion, overwhelmed by unprecedented fury.

This anger was directed at Ren Wang for fabricating illusions with his loved ones to toy with his mindset—it had truly crossed a line.

"The real and the fake blur; the fake and the real merge."

Ren Wang chuckled lightly, dismissing Ye Chen's rage as meaningless.

No sooner had the words left his lips than Ye Chen, who had just escaped the illusion, was yanked back in. The same gruesome scenes unfolded: Ye Fan rampaging, his loved ones collapsing in pools of blood.

"Illusion has no hold on me."

Ye Chen roared, trying to break free again.

But this time, he failed, trapped in the illusion with no way out, unsure how to escape.

This was Ren Wang's doing, using the curse to bind Ye Chen in the illusion, forcing him to witness the horrors whether he wanted to or not.

"If killing Ye Fan could save all living beings, how would you choose?"

The words echoed through the illusion, infused with supreme power, perfectly syncing with the bloody scenes—he couldn't ignore them or look away.

"Uh."

Ye Chen clutched his head, veins bulging as he groaned in pain and rage, grinding the words out through clenched teeth. His once-deep eyes were now streaked with blood, turned a vivid red.

Ren Wang paid him no mind, still lounging on the flying sword, sipping wine and humming, the chain's clinks accompanying their wanderings through the stars.

Though Ye Chen's mind was trapped in the illusion, his physical body moved with stiff, mechanical steps, his expression blank, eyes vacant—like a puppet or a walking corpse.

Onlookers stared in astonishment; it looked exactly like someone walking a dog.

"What's there to look at? Get lost."

Ren Wang was in a foul mood, cursing as he went, as if no one had ever seen someone walking a dog before.

His voice boomed, amplified by his cultivation, sending passersby scattering far away.

Once Ren Wang and Ye Chen were gone, the onlookers gathered again, whispering and pointing.

"This is just too pathetic."

"The strong rule, and it's that brutal." An elder cultivator sighed. "Surviving a Zhun Di is lucky enough."

No one argued; as cultivators, they knew all too well the cold laws of survival. The weak deserved their fate.

Amid the discussions, Ren Wang and Ye Chen faded into the distance.

To outsiders, Ye Chen was merely shackled and chained, but no one realized the depth of his suffering—it was far more cruel than being hacked with a blade.

"Emperor Huang, that remnant soul of the Human Emperor is even more ruthless than you."

Even the Ming Emperor clicked his tongue at the sight.

"He understands Ye Chen better than I do."

Emperor Huang's words were calm.

"Illusion is illusion, but over time, it will brainwash him." Ming Emperor said flatly. "That's the terror of heart refinement. The Ren Wang of today is as cruel as you were back then, never treating him as a person from start to finish."

"Without such cruelty, how could there be nirvana?"

Emperor Huang's voice was ethereal.