After the Great Dao Died

Footsteps echoed from outside the main hall.

Neither hurried nor slow, they tapped against the lapis lazuli tiles with a crisp, clear sound that reverberated through the cavernous space.

The bearded man’s hand paused.

The scholar set down his wine jug.

Wang Chu’s gaze snapped toward the hall doors.

The bearded man’s Silver Marrow qi and blood surged violently. A silvery-white aura shimmered just beneath his skin, and deep within his bones, the coursing Silver Marrow let out a low, vibrating hum.

He unleashed the imposing aura of Silver Bone Consummation without reservation, bearing down on the surrounding air so heavily it seemed to sink.

Yet the scholar remained seated before the fire, entirely unmoving.

Only a faint golden light seeped from his body.

The light was incredibly pale, oozing from the depths of his bones and rendering his flesh almost transparent. From a distance, he looked like a solid gold Buddha statue sitting by the campfire, radiating a brilliance that was impossible to look at directly.A Golden Body!

As the footsteps continued to echo through the empty hall, Chen Lingxi stepped over the threshold.

The campfire’s glow washed over him, casting his black clothes into sharp relief. The green, half-face demon mask he wore gleamed with a cold, eerie luster. The flickering flames threw the shadow of its fangs across his jaw, making it look as though a true evil spirit had bared its teeth.

A long blade hung at his waist. He walked with an upright posture, his every stride carrying an extraordinary air.

The gazes of all three people in the hall converged on him.

Wang Chu’s pupils shrank.

The bearded man narrowed his eyes in vigilance.

The scholar frowned. He couldn’t see through this newcomer.

There wasn’t a single trace of flowing qi and blood on the man.

Standing there, he seemed like an ordinary mortal. His aura was murky, his body heat imperceptible, and even his heartbeat was nearly silent.

But if he truly was an ordinary mortal, how could he have slipped past his perception and walked into the main hall?

The bearded man spoke first with a cold sneer. ”Another one hiding his face,” he rumbled roughly. ”An imperial lapdog?”

The scholar remained cross-legged before the fire, motionless.

Chen Lingxi met their stares as he strode further into the hall, coming to a halt by the campfire.

He glanced at the hearts roasting over the flames, then at the iron skewer in the bearded man’s hand, slick with blood and grease.

Finally, he shifted his gaze to the scholar. ”May I have a drink?”

His tone was mild, as if asking about the most mundane thing in the world.

The scholar was momentarily taken aback.

The bearded man also froze.

Neither had expected this secretive, uninvited guest’s first words to be a request for wine.

The scholar studied Chen Lingxi for a moment before suddenly laughing.

”Fine wine for a hero. Why not?”

He picked up a wine jug beside him and shook it toward Chen Lingxi, then turned to Wang Chu, who was standing by the hall doors. ”Friend, why not drink together?”

The pale golden light radiating from him hadn’t faded; instead, it flared a little brighter.

The golden glow circulated around him like a thin layer of armor, dimming the campfire’s light in comparison.

His eyes locked onto Wang Chu. Though he said nothing more, his meaning was perfectly clear.

Wang Chu’s heart turned cold.

Having seen much of the world while working in the Marquis’s estate, she could easily read the intent in the scholar’s eyes.

He suspected her.

This man in black had arrived suddenly and silently. Not even the two Mohe Envoys had noticed his approach.

It was only natural for the scholar to harbor suspicions—wondering if she had lured him here or leaked their whereabouts.

She gritted her teeth slightly, knowing she couldn’t leave now.

If she stubbornly tried to slip away at this point, it would only deepen their suspicions.

Given the scholar’s Golden Body cultivation, stopping her would take but the snap of a finger.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around, walked back to the campfire, and sat cross-legged.

She came from the bottom. Climbing to the position of steward in the Marquis’s estate took far more than just a pretty face.

Without sheer nerve, she would have been chewed up and spat out by those man-eating schemes long ago, leaving not even bones behind.

The four of them sat.

Chen Lingxi was seated right next to the bearded man.

The bearded man cast him a sideways glance and scoffed, but said nothing, lowering his head to continue roasting the meat on his skewer.

The scholar offered the wine jug.

”This is a fine vintage hidden in this palace by the Eastern King,” the scholar smiled. His tone was unhurried, as if hosting a distinguished guest from afar. ”Friend, why don’t you have a taste?”

Chen Lingxi accepted the jug and popped the stopper.

A rich aroma washed over him. The scent wasn’t aggressive; rather, it was incredibly mellow. Once inhaled, it flowed like a thin thread down his nasal cavity and into his chest and abdomen, bringing with it a wave of warmth.

He tilted his head back and took a swig.

The liquid was soft on the palate. At first, it seemed unremarkable, but once swallowed, a current of heat surged from his throat. It cascaded down his esophagus, settled into his stomach, and then spread from his belly out to his limbs and bones.

”It is indeed fine wine,” he praised.

The bearded man, who had been focused on eating his meat, suddenly looked up. His gaze landed on Chen Lingxi. ”You drank the wine. Now state your origins,” he said gruffly.

His tone wasn’t particularly severe; in fact, it carried a hint of casual indifference.

But his eyes narrowed, silver light swirling in his pupils. He had already activated Frost Hearing, his ability at Silver Bone Consummation, gathering every minute sound of Chen Lingxi’s breathing, heartbeat, and blood flow into his ears.

Chen Lingxi did not answer.

His gaze fell upon the iron skewer, then on the charred hearts, and finally on the corners of the bearded man’s mouth, which were smeared with blood and grease.

He watched for a few breaths before suddenly shaking his head.

”This Eastern King exploited the blood and sweat of the people to build this magnificent palace,” he finally spoke, his voice not loud but every word distinct. ”Yet within this palace, evil ghosts feast on human flesh. And not even the flesh of the powerful—just the meat of pitiful servants.”

He shifted his gaze from the skewer to the bearded man’s face, his eyes perfectly still. ”And yet, this evil ghost keeps bleating about the people’s blood and sweat. How amusing.”

The bearded man’s expression changed instantly.

”What did you say?” he thundered. His Silver Marrow qi and blood erupted within him. Silver light flared from deep inside his bones, washing his skin in a stark, silvery white.

But the very instant before his words could fade...

”Hmph!”

Chen Lingxi suddenly let out a cold snort.

The sound was incredibly light, bursting from his throat—deep, rich, and lingering—

And then...

It was as if a giant dragon slumbering in the abyss had been awakened, letting out a roar of absolute displeasure!

The Dragon Roar Technique!

The moment the sound hit the bearded man’s ears, all the Silver Marrow qi and blood in his body suddenly stagnated.

Like a galloping stallion violently yanked back by its reins, his qi and blood jerked to a halt inside his meridians. It couldn’t advance or retreat, rise or fall, clogging his chest and abdomen until everything churned sickeningly.

His body went slightly rigid.

And in that split second—

A beam of purple light blasted out from Chen Lingxi’s mouth.

The purple light was as fine as a single hair, yet so blindingly bright one couldn’t even keep their eyes open.

It shot from between his lips and teeth. The distance was too close—so close the bearded man didn’t even have time to blink.

The purple gleam tore through the air, leaving behind countless microscopic fractures in its wake.

Then, it sank straight into the center of the bearded man’s brow.

Snik!

There was a sound, impossibly light and faint, like a needle piercing a ripe melon.

A hole the thickness of a finger appeared between the bearded man’s eyebrows.

His eyes remained wide open, the dancing campfire flames still reflected in his pupils.

But his aura vanished into dead silence in the blink of an eye.

His body swayed.

Then, like a collapsing mountain, he crashed to the ground.

The iron skewer slipped from his grasp and rolled toward the campfire. The charred hearts scattered across the ground, steaming in the firelight.

The hall plunged into sudden silence.

The scholar’s hand froze in midair.

He still held the posture of offering the wine jug, his fingers slightly parted, the spout facing outward.

His gaze fell on the bearded man’s corpse, then slowly shifted to Chen Lingxi.

The next instant!

Golden light erupted from his body.

The light was as blazing as the sun, bursting from the depths of his bones and turning his flesh nearly transparent. He truly resembled a solid gold Buddha statue now, brilliant and blinding.

The campfire paled in comparison. Its flames were suppressed by the golden aura, shrinking by a third as the temperature in the hall violently spiked.

”A Golden Body.”

Chen Lingxi remained unfazed.

The scholar’s right hand was already resting on the hilt of the short sword at his waist.

The blade had yet to leave its sheath, but a freezing, almost tangible killing intent flooded the hall, pressing down on the air until it stagnated.

Chen Lingxi sat by the campfire, motionless.

His mask glowed a cold, eerie green under the golden light. The shadows of its fangs fell across his jaw, looking exactly like a true evil spirit baring its teeth.

He locked his gaze on the scholar.

Then, he spoke.

His voice wasn’t loud. His tone was flat, even carrying a hint of idle indifference.

”What, you want to die too?”