Chapter 913: Clan Elder

The setting sun bled across the sky. The blood on the ground slowly dried, and the lingering light of the formation shimmered faintly in the twilight. A man stood amidst the strong winds, draped in a black robe, with graying hair and blood flowing from his body. Despite his neatly trimmed beard, which usually gave him a dignified and serious appearance, his face was contorted with a fierce and ruthless expression.

His grey-black eyes mirrored the blood-red sunset. The golden copper bowl in front of him suddenly loomed larger again, forcing the man to raise his spiritual sword and strike it forcefully.

"Clang!"

The man in black felt his arms sink, his head spun, and blood trickled from his nose. A bitter, sweet, and pungent taste filled his throat, and he couldn't help but cough twice, splattering blood onto his clothes.

"My lord!"

The voice still echoed in his ears. The man in black weakly turned his head, seeing his clan brother, who was kneeling on the ground not far away, spitting blood. The scene before his eyes flickered, alternately near and far, and the golden light in the sky grew increasingly intense, making it impossible for Li Cheng to open his eyes.

By this point, Li Cheng realized all hope was lost. He quietly glanced at the blood on his robe, took a step back, and propped his spiritual sword on the ground to support himself.

The man's blood-stained robe no longer billowed; it clung to his body stickily. He propped himself up, feeling somewhat disoriented, and a thought surfaced in his mind: 'How far have the Buddhist cultivators pushed? Is Minggong safe?'

Among the main lineage of their family, Li Minggong was the one Tinglan had specifically instructed Wenwu to arrange for, ensuring he stayed in the rear. Li Cheng, being merely a Qi cultivator with poor talent, naturally wasn't important enough to warrant Tinglan's attention. Even if she never mentioned it, Wenwu had considered it, arranging for them to be in the far south, away from Luoxia, accompanied by Fei Qingyi. Unfortunately, Xiaoshi Mountain was breached, leaving this area exposed on the front lines. The Purple Smoke Sect disciples stationed here were killed, Fei Qingyi fled, and countless others died, leaving only a few of them.

In his daze, Li Cheng noticed that the Buddhist cultivator in front of him had not seized this rare opportunity but instead seemed somewhat annoyed. This annoyance startled Li Cheng.

As the leader of the Yuandu lineage and Li Zhoufang's paternal uncle, Li Cheng actually held a respectable position. His only fault was his difficult personality. Strictly speaking, he could address Li Ximing as his seventh uncle. After Li Ximing's son, Li Chengzhi, died, among the male descendants of the Baimai Chenming line, Li Cheng was in fact the closest relative and had received considerable favors since childhood.

A chill suddenly surged through him, and he became sober in an instant: 'The Buddhist cultivators have many methods; they will surely implicate my family... I should die quickly!'

He drew his sword, but the golden bowl shot forward like lightning, violently striking his spiritual sword. Sparks flew, and Li Cheng spat out a mouthful of blood, almost falling backward onto the ground. Just as he tried to circulate his spiritual energy, he realized the intense golden light from the sky was showering down, making his internal spiritual energy impossible to gather and causing it to dissipate continuously.

While Li Cheng paused, Li Chengpan, who was beside him, fared even worse. His long spear, held horizontally, was struck squarely by the Buddhist cultivator opposite him. He immediately fell to his knees with a thud and began to vomit blood.

That blow didn't kill Li Chengpan, but it jolted Li Cheng awake. A sudden realization struck him: 'Chengpan's talent might be a bit higher, but his character is weak and indecisive, not even as good as Li Zhouluo...'

Back when Li Zhouluo was managing the family, Li Chengpan was falsely accused. Although Li Cheng would have stood up for any clan member in that situation, Li Chengpan was deeply moved and had followed him ever since, respecting him like an older brother. After so many years of association, how could Li Cheng not know his true nature? Though grateful, could a few acts of kindness outweigh life and death? Would something go wrong?

So he forced his body, which felt as if it were breaking apart with pain, to move quickly forward. To his surprise, the golden bowl shot through the air again, landing in front of him and smashing against the spiritual sword in his hand. With a sharp clang, the weathered spiritual artifact finally broke.

"Clink..."

The sound of the sword blade hitting the ground was clear. Only half a broken blade remained attached to the hilt in Li Cheng's hand. He staggered back repeatedly, retreating to Li Chengpan's side. Dazed, he glimpsed Li Chengpan's blood-streaked face and heard the young man wail, spitting blood:

"My lord!"

Li Cheng hesitated for just a moment. Golden light flashed before his eyes like lightning, the world spun, and a sharp pain erupted in the back of his head. It felt as if all his strength had been drained, and he fell heavily to the ground.

Light streamed across the sky, and malevolent energy surged. Two figures, one black and one golden, descended. The demonic figure wore silver-black armor, stepping on swirling malevolent energy, while Lianmin, radiating brilliant light, sat upon a pink-green lotus throne.

In an instant, the world changed color, golden light surged, and the blood-red setting sun was blocked out. Mystics stood suspended in the air on both sides, staring intently.

Li Cheng swallowed blood and clambered back to his feet, hearing Lianmin in the sky laugh: "Before, we got a Ning family member, just one, with no fate to join us, so he was taken by Xuwang. But now we have these two; what a pleasant surprise!"

Li Cheng's heart sank instantly. Not far away, several cultivators had already knelt down, some even looking relieved. Nearby, Li Chengpan also dropped his long spear and knelt blankly on the ground.

The Nü Xiao in the sky smiled: "The Great Karma has brought you to see the path of Great Desire and Light, to turn from evil to good! Why do you not bow down and give thanks?"

"Boom..."

As her words fell, a resonant bell chimed from afar, and cries of pleading and gratitude erupted all around. Li Chengpan wept bitterly; though silent, he slowly lowered his head, uttering not a word.

Lianmin in the sky nodded with a smile, showing a look of contentment.

The Buddhist path had converted many; how could they not see it? In fact, few defectors changed their minds as quickly as turning a page. Most ordinary people were indecisive; a bowed head, a silence, a waver—seemingly ambiguous actions—made the rest of the process smooth and logical.

On the ground, Li Chengpan's hands trembled, but he found it impossible to rise. Suddenly, his collar tightened, and an intense chill emerged, as if something heavy had slammed into the back of his head. Golden light shimmered brilliantly, and a voice, filled with hatred like a cuckoo's cry, rang in his ears:

"Get up!"

Li Cheng's grey hair seemed to reflect his spiritual power, which was completely bound, leaving him like a mortal. The broken sword aimed at the back of Li Chengpan's head was blocked by the golden light, merely causing him to falter. The old man could no longer endure it; his sword clattered to the ground, and he collapsed, bellowing:

"Li Chengpan! Get up!"

His expression was as hard as stone, as resolute as when he had stood before Li Chengpan on Qingdu Mountain years ago, but now it was tinged with an ice-cold, bone-deep, heartbreaking hatred. Crimson blood flowed from his trembling lips:

"Li Chengpan!"

Li Chengpan was just as he had been years ago: kneeling on the ground, his posture barely changed, remaining silent and simply weeping, only now his hands were trembling. The young man's eyes were blurred with tears. The clan elders who had once whispered to each other from their many grand chairs had vanished like smoke, replaced by numerous solemn Buddhist demons, who now stood high above him. He couldn't utter a single word—he didn't even dare to turn and look at the old man howling behind him.

The Nü Xiao in the sky burst into laughter, gazing at the scene on the ground with great satisfaction. Golden light shimmered in her pupils, and the mystics across the sky solemnly chanted scriptures. Colorful clouds gathered, seeming to perform some ritual, and a humming sound reverberated:

"First lose, then gain, to release desire. First gain, then lose, to free the heart..."

As the chanting began, distant bells chimed from the horizon, accompanied by the incessant tapping of wooden fish, growing closer. Li Chengpan's heart suddenly grew calm. The sounds blunted the sorrow in his heart, filling the bottomless fear that had stretched before him. These feelings settled into his very bones, never to be dislodged.

He pressed his palms together, quietly lowering his head. The strong wind swept back his black hair, and amidst the brilliant golden light, he found a sanctuary for his guilt.

Behind him, the old man struggled on the ground like a dying fish. The distant sound of the wooden fish, far from calming his inner fury, only made him more enraged and rampant, causing fiery, red malevolence to stream from his eyes, trickling down from the corners.

Your father died young, Li Chengpan, and I helped you. You were my protégé! And today you surrender to the Buddhists! You, Li Chengpan, were framed, and no one dared to speak up, but I, disregarding being dragged down by Li Xixuan, single-handedly protected you before all the elders! And today you surrender to the Buddhists! You have betrayed my dedicated care, betrayed my years of promoting you, you beast! It truly is my fault for being too soft! You make it so I have no honor in life, and cannot rest in peace in death!

Amidst the thudding of the wooden fish, Li Cheng twisted his body. His blood-stained, thin beard grew longer and longer, and it was as if countless rats were scurrying beneath his skin, now growing hooves and claws, now scales, now a forked tongue, transforming him into a creeping venomous creature, twitching on the ground. Consequently, the sound of the scriptures from the sky grew louder, and someone cried out:

"Li Chengpan! The time has come to subdue the venomous creature, clear away the past, and sever earthly ties!"

Li Chengpan turned around. Inside the old man's empty clothes was only a resentful, aimless venomous creature, leaping haphazardly. Li Chengpan lifted the creature by its cheek, and with one hand, he moved down its skin, tearing off its superfluous limbs, causing pools of green blood to well out. With eyes full of tears, he said:

"Clan brother!"

The cry was heart-wrenching, like a suona, echoing melodiously in the air. Li Chengpan's eyes, usually timid and anxious, became clear, and his back straightened. The venomous creature, struck by lightning, instantly lost its evil nature, its demonic heart pacified. It coiled around him dazedly, its scales now shimmering golden.

Li Chengpan pressed his palms together, bowed again, and said: "Today, I have witnessed the true bright dharma, sweeping away the six roots of vexation. I wish to cultivate the true fruit under your lordship."

Lianmin in the sky smiled with joy and replied: "Wrong! Wrong! I never imagined such good karma. You are destined to join my Great Desire! Now, we should bring this fellow daoist to the Buddhist lands, to meet the great one! And ask if there is a place reserved for him!"

Laughter immediately erupted in the sky, and everyone cheered: "Wonderful! Wonderful!" And again, they cried: "Broken through! Broken through!"

Amidst the festive golden light, only Helian Wumeng, standing nearby, wore a gloomy expression. His grip tightened on the long-handled oar-blade, making the spiritual artifact hum. A sinister look gradually appeared in his eyes, as if he felt completely ill at ease: 'They are imperial descendants after all...'

Although he himself harbored thoughts of capturing members of the Li family to exchange for spiritual treasures, no matter what, they should either be killed or exchanged back. Their ancestors were among the foremost figures in the world; how could they be tormented like this? His gaze turned cold, and he said mercilessly:

"Nü Xiao! Did you invite me just to watch this?"

Nü Xiao was slightly taken aback, then forced a smile: "Isn't this to let fellow daoist blow off some steam...?"

Helian Wumeng had suffered a setback on the North Shore, but he prided himself on being a man of stature. How could he stand to watch such a thing? He laughed, both cold and angry:

"Absurd!"

"My lord, wait!"

Nü Xiao hastily stopped him, forcing a smile: "Lord Wujiang is currently discussing dharma before my Mahasattva. Why not join us?"

At these words, Helian Wumeng immediately frowned, unsure of her intentions. He said coldly: "Oh?"

Nü Xiao chuckled: "Don't you see how sturdy his formation is? It seems it would take a lot of effort to break through, but the Sun Dao Lineage is about to retreat! The Great Yuan Guangyin Mountain will soon be ours!"

Dark clouds hung heavily over the North Shore. Streaks of light were returning from the north, cutting through the air with dazzling brilliance, and soon landed nearby.

"Clan brother!"

A man in a long black robe stood waiting in the wind, radiating a golden aura. He was distinguished in appearance, gently tapping the hilt of his sword with one hand. Beside him, a woman in luxurious attire, strikingly beautiful, smiled as they both looked over.

The man he called "clan brother" appeared honest and unassuming, much older. He hurried back, supported by a tall young man, which only made his demeanor seem more profound. His face was slightly pale. Now, turning to look, he sighed:

"Zhouluo is back..."

"I was already within the Green Pond Realm and rushed here after hearing news of demonic cultivators on the North Shore... I didn't expect the family to have resolved it so quickly, adding to our great joy. Congratulations on your triumphant return, clan brother..." Li Zhouluo had been waiting near the lake. As soon as the North Shore demonic cultivators arrived, the family sent out a distress signal. Coincidentally, his wife had just emerged from seclusion, so he brought her, Pang Yunqing, along. This was both to provide additional support to the family and to see his relatives. The smile on his face was genuine, devoid of any jealousy. Li Zhouwei's rapid breakthrough to the Purple Mansion realm meant their family would become an immortal clan with two Purple Mansion cultivators. This was excellent news for him and his descendants, let alone for his own brother achieving the Purple Mansion realm.

But while he was full of joy, thinking it was the best news possible, the man before him showed no hint of happiness. After hearing the congratulations, Li Zhoufang forced a smile, his face full of hope, and asked:

"Have you seen Uncle return...? I've asked several times but received no reply... Perhaps we should ask the True Master..." He was, of course, referring to Li Cheng. As for the True Master, it wasn't Li Ximing, who had yet to appear, but Li Zhouwei, who was cultivating in the lake.

Ever since the incident at Qingdu Mountain, although Li Zhouluo had always worn a cheerful smile, he didn't have a good impression of Li Cheng in his heart. Still, such a major event made him slightly stunned:

"Uncle didn't return with you all? The True Master's whereabouts are unknown, and it wouldn't be right to disturb him..." Although he didn't know the exact arrangements, nor that Fei Qingyi was with them and had already lost contact, his first reaction was not to disturb Li Zhouwei. Chen Yang, standing nearby, secretly broke into a sweat and quickly stepped forward, comforting him in a low voice:

"Although there's no news, the True Master should have made arrangements long ago..."

Li Zhoufang, having worried for so long, could no longer control his emotions. He covered his face and wept, lamenting sorrowfully:

"You only say pleasant things! I've asked, but I can't see the True Master. Now Uncle's whereabouts are unknown; how can there be any hope of his survival? Besides Aunt, Uncle has no brothers who care about him. The elders are all on the lake. If we, the juniors, don't ask around more, who in these mountains will even remember him?"

At these words, Li Zhouluo silently lowered his head and tucked his hands into his sleeves. Pang Yunqing, dressed in green, immediately raised her eyebrows to look at him. The atmosphere fell silent for a moment. Fortunately, a bolt of purple lightning descended from the sky, accompanied by rumbling thunder, and a robust man descended with the lightning—it was Li Zhouda.

He had received Li Cheng's legacy and was slightly affected this time, but not only did he suffer no injuries, he also made significant contributions in the battle. Now, full of vigor, he clasped his hands and said:

"Brothers! The cultivators from Purple Smoke have escorted us this far. The northern cultivators are watching us like tigers. Please return to the lake quickly, to prevent any major incidents..."