Chapter 351: Divine Sense Heavenly Hearing? You Are a Yin God!

Chapter 351: Divine Sense of Heavenly Hearing? You Are a Yin God!

“After finishing this wine, we shall capture the remnant soul together!”

Jiang Qingjiao’s expression was joyful, tinged with a hint of high spirits.

This trip to Tianyue had yielded abundant rewards.

Not only had he obtained the supreme treasure of Tianfang Demon Blood, but he was also about to receive a great opportunity.

“Let us drink together!”

The three present were all quite delighted and downed the wine in one gulp.

At that moment, a calm voice suddenly rang out in the private room.

“Ah, so someone dares to plot my murder.”

The voice came abruptly, and the expressions of the three shifted slightly.

Their divine senses swept outward, seeking the source of the voice, and their spiritual power erupted in that instant, on high alert.

As the voice faded, two figures appeared in the room.

A handsome man was holding a cold, stunning woman in a black dress. The man’s face clearly showed anger, while the woman’s expression was icy, as if carrying a chill—one look and it was plain they were not to be trifled with.

Yet when her gaze fell on the man beside her, it was filled with affection and adoration.

Seeing the two, the Carefree Hermit narrowed his eyes.

For he could not detect the strength of either of them.

The demon clan man was likewise on extreme alert.

For some reason, he felt a vague familiarity with the two before him.

Jiang Qingjiao hastily bowed: “Senior, might there be some misunderstanding? I am Jiang Qingjiao of the Dou Shen Sect.”

He invoked his sect’s name to make the mysterious cultivator think twice.

“What misunderstanding? My wife was just eating watermelon in the room when she suddenly heard someone say they wanted to kill me, so she brought me here,” Qi Yuan said lazily.

Ning Tao’s eyes held a smile: “My husband is right. Just now, I heard someone say they wanted to slay ‘Qi Yuan.’”

At this, a trace of killing intent flickered in Ning Tao’s eyes.

The moment these words were spoken, the man with double pupils from the Ten Thousand Demon Realm thought of something and his face drastically changed: “Divine Sense of Heavenly Hearing—you are a Yin God!”

Anyone who reached the Yin God realm possessed the ability of Divine Sense of Heavenly Hearing.

Within a certain range, if one called a god’s name or muttered it, the god would sense it.

Thus, ordinary cultivators dared not speak a god’s name directly or speak ill of a god behind their back.

They had mentioned Qi Yuan casually, even using a soundproofing formation in the private room, yet they were still overheard.

What else could it be but Divine Sense of Heavenly Hearing?

Of course, there was something odd about it.

Didn’t Divine Sense of Heavenly Hearing only hear one’s own name?

Why did this woman hear the name Qi Yuan?

Generally, what Divine Sense of Heavenly Hearing perceived was not the first person in one’s heart—wasn’t the first person oneself?

“A god?”

Hearing this, the Carefree Hermit and Jiang Qingjiao were utterly stunned.

The woman beside Qi Yuan… was a Yin God?

“Great god, do not misunderstand—it’s all a misunderstanding!” Jiang Qingjiao knelt directly.

If the other party were a Divine Infant, he might only be wary, not overly afraid.

But a Yin God was on the same level as the founding patriarch of the Dou Shen Sect.

Faced with such a powerhouse, he could only kneel.

The Carefree Hermit did not hesitate either and knelt at once: “It’s all a misunderstanding!”

“Misunderstanding? You mean my wife was hallucinating?” Qi Yuan grew angry.

He naturally believed Ning Tao’s words without question.

“No…” Jiang Qingjiao’s mind was in turmoil, utterly at a loss for how to explain.

After all, they truly had intended to kill Qi Yuan.

But who knew that Qi Yuan’s wife was a Yin God venerable?

Why would such a venerable not ascend to the upper realm and remain in the lower world?

“Sir, we…”

“He has already stated his origins. Now it’s your turn,” Qi Yuan said, looking at the man with double pupils and the Carefree Hermit.

He noted the name of the Dou Shen Sect.

That sect’s name was a bit arrogant—he would have to go and teach them a lesson.

He wanted to see what backgrounds the other two had.

These three were so bold as to scheme against him; he didn’t believe they had no backing.

“This junior is a wandering cultivator.”

“I… also a wandering cultivator.”

“One truth, one lie—it doesn’t matter,” Qi Yuan shook his head. “Anyway… you all will die.”

“Senior, spare my life!”

Jiang Qingjiao begged bitterly, but when he heard Qi Yuan’s voice, his face changed drastically.

“He must be bluffing—what kind of Yin God is he!”

In that moment, Jiang Qingjiao burned his essence, unleashing his strongest Dao technique.

Seeing this, the Carefree Hermit understood that there was no hope except to strike with all their might.

The spiritual power of the two roiled, emitting a brilliant light.

Jiang Qingjiao had already reached the Yuan Dan realm.

And the Carefree Hermit was a legendary False Infant grandmaster.

Their combined attack was terrifying, easily enough to shatter an entire street.

Qi Yuan yawned at the sight: “They look so cute when they’re angry, just like my cat when its fur stands on end.”

When one is too weak, even rage and fury appear adorable before the strong.

“They’re really cute to death.”

Watching the two attack, Qi Yuan extended his fist.

As the saying goes, one force overcomes ten thousand techniques.

At this moment, he used no Daoist arts, only the power of his flesh.

Martial Dao and Immortal Dao—two paths—had reinforced Qi Yuan’s physical body to a terrifying degree.

No immortal magic, no blood-qi force—only the strength of his flesh.

Jiang Qingjiao and the Wandering Hermit were like metal drawn to a magnet; their bodies crashed against Qi Yuan’s fist.

Bang.

Like a watermelon smashing against a hammer, their two heads had not even touched Qi Yuan’s fist.

Their heads shattered like watermelons.

Their bodies flopped like rag dolls, crimson cotton fluff scattering everywhere.

That was not cotton fluff, nor even merely blood; from an overarching perspective, one could see that this single punch had knocked the very souls out of Jiang Qingjiao and the Wandering Hermit.

“How adorably dead they are.”

Qi Yuan withdrew his hand, and two corpses lay on the ground.

The double-pupiled man trembled, his body quaking.

“Do you have a younger brother with a Supreme Bone?” Qi Yuan asked.

“N-no… no.” The double-pupiled man, though puzzled, answered truthfully.

“No?” Qi Yuan breathed a sigh of relief. “Then why aren’t you adorably dead?”

With a wave of his hand, the double-pupiled man fell in that instant.

A pair of eyeballs appeared in Qi Yuan’s hand.

His expression wistful, he recalled a famous saying and could not help blurting out: “Double pupils are already the path of invincibility—why borrow another’s bone?”

…

The God of Battle Tower stood amid a mountain in Windsea City.

That mountain had now been renamed God of Battle Mountain.

The tower, fully forty stories tall, clashed with the surrounding trees and peaks.

It stood out conspicuously.

Originally the most bustling tower in Windsea City’s center, the God of Battle Tower had been coveted by the God of Battle Sect’s patriarch. With his immense power, he had ripped the tower from the ground and moved it to God of Battle Mountain, making it the sect’s stronghold in Gongxing.

That feat had once been livestreamed, watched by countless netizens who cheered “666.”

Because of this, the God of Battle Sect was far more famous in Qinyuan Country than other sects.

After all, no other sect had stolen the spotlight like the God of Battle Sect.

This great deed also drew an endless stream of people daily, seeking to enter the sect.

On God of Battle Mountain, a continuous line of disciples came to study martial arts.

At that moment, Shen Yang stood inside the God of Battle Tower like a lowly underling, dressed in faded white clothes. Whenever he saw someone approach, he instinctively bowed his back.

It was a habit cultivated by years of social conditioning.

“Your talent is mediocre, barely lower grade.” The speaker was a young man with an arrogant expression, carrying the haughtiness of a cultivator. “You failed the entrance test.” “Thank you for telling me, immortal sir.” Shen Yang’s face was bitter, disappointment in his eyes.

This time, he had spent several hundred yuan to come to Windsea City, queued on God of Battle Mountain since midnight last night, and the result… was this outcome, which pained him greatly.

It seemed he was truly worthless.

He could not earn money, had no talent for cultivation—life held no hope.

“But…” The young man suddenly changed his tone. “A senior brother has taken a liking to you. He thinks you’re hardworking and is willing to give you a chance—to follow him as a sword slave.”

“Sword slave?” Shen Yang gritted his teeth, his expression shifting.

The word “slave” carried its meaning clearly.

In the sect, such a status was akin to a menial disciple; if killed by the master, no one would care.

“Such an opportunity, once missed, is gone forever. Your talent is only lower grade; in any other sect, you couldn’t even be a menial disciple,” the young man continued. “It’s only because that senior brother sees a connection with you that he gives you this chance.”

In truth, most of the young man’s words were false.

Shen Yang’s talent actually met the God of Battle Sect’s entry standards.

But the senior brother had taken a liking to him, so the senior brother found an executor, and thus the scene unfolded.

This young man deliberately lied about Shen Yang’s talent.

His aim was to force Shen Yang to become the senior brother’s menial disciple.

Seeing this, Shen Yang thought of his aging parents and his hopeless life: “I…”

Before he could finish, the arrogant man suddenly said, “Don’t rush to agree. Becoming the senior brother’s sword slave isn’t that simple.

After all, your talent is very low.

Hmm… you only need to donate one million Qinyuan coins to become the senior brother’s sword slave.

Don’t think one million Qinyuan coins is too much; once you become a cultivator, you’ll earn it back in a year.

Judging by your look, you don’t have much money, but you must own a house in the city, right? Sell the house and invest in cultivation—it’s a sure win.”

The young man seemed to have Shen Yang figured out and directly brought up money.

After all, he had tried this trick several times, and it never failed.

The rich didn’t lack a million; the middle class would grit their teeth; and the poor would sell everything to advance their offspring.

But who knew? When Shen Yang heard this, his face hardened with resolve: “Sorry, I have no money. Forget it—it seems I have no fate with the immortal path.”

He could accept anything else, but asking for his money was absolutely out of the question.

Not to mention whether he had a million; the remaining money he had to leave for his parents’ retirement.

The path of cultivation was full of danger. If he took a million just for his own pleasure and then died, what would his parents do? They wouldn’t even have money for old age.

So he resolutely refused.

Hearing this, the young man’s face froze, not expecting such an outcome: “Shen Yang, you’d better think it over. There won’t be another chance like this.

You and the immortal path will be completely cut off.”

“I’ve made up my mind.”

No money!

Shen Yang answered bluntly.

The young man’s eyes flickered, a murderous intent flashing within.

In that case, Shen Yang would not leave the God of Battle Sect alive.

After all, if Shen Yang went to another sect to test his aptitude and exposed what happened here, it would be bad.

“It seems you have no fate with my God of Battle Sect.” The young man sighed, and his hand casually patted Shen Yang’s shoulder.

A special fragrance from his hand was smeared onto Shen Yang’s body.

The young man made his mark, waiting until Shen Yang was far away to personally eliminate him.

After all, with a mountain as vast as Doushen Mountain, a few deaths shouldn't matter, should they?

Even if something happened, the sect would handle it.

Bidding farewell to the young man, Shen Yang walked out of Doushen Tower with a dejected expression.

The sun outside was blindingly bright; he took out his phone to book a return ticket—if he made it in time, he could still go back to deliver afternoon and evening food orders.

Earn what he could.

But just as he opened his phone, a message suddenly caught his eye.

He tapped on the video message, and his expression froze for a moment.

"Do you lack love?"

"Do you lack care?"

"Have you not seen your grandfather or grandmother in a long time?"

In the video within the message, a mechanical voice carried a certain emotional appeal.

Shen Yang also thought of his grandparents.

However, they had passed away when he was very young.

"Today, you are no longer alone."

"The 'Send Grandpa Network' grand opening promotion: anyone who participates in our 'Send Grandpa' activity and meets the conditions can receive one or more grandparents.

If you cannot meet the conditions, the 'Send Grandpa Network' is not stingy—it will generously call you 'grandson' or 'granddaughter'..."

Hearing this, Shen Yang felt bewildered, even suspecting it was someone's prank, but when he heard the words "grandson" and "granddaughter," his expression suddenly changed.

Because that voice was too familiar.

"Isn't that him!"

Nearly a year ago, Shen Yang had stumbled upon an account that seemed to belong to a cultivator.

That cultivator had also posted a video—well, three marriage certificates.

In that video, there was also the man's voice, a simple sentence.

"We got married."

At that time, Shen Yang followed that account, even spent a fortune on tips, and mustered the courage to leave a comment.

Unfortunately, there was no follow-up.

Back then, he had watched that video no less than a hundred times; he knew that young male voice better than anyone.

Now, this warm voice calling out "grandson" and "granddaughter" was that very person.

His heart raced.

He quickly opened other apps to search for "Send Grandpa Network," and was shocked to find that every major app, every platform, even the splash ads of games, all bore the words "Send Grandpa Network Online."

"This..."

He drew a sharp breath.

The trending searches were also filled with information about "Send Grandpa Network Online."

And those young people who wanted to join the Doushen Sect had clearly also seen the information about the [Send Grandpa Network] and were buzzing with discussion.

"Hey, what's up with this Send Grandpa Network? A hacker prank?"

"Sending grandpas? That's too ridiculous, isn't it?"

"So random, kind of absurd."

"Even Qinyuan Yitai is playing it—has this world finally gone as crazy as I imagined?"

"Are they taking advantage of us?"

"What does 'send grandpa, send grandma' mean?"

"Feels like something bad—they want us to send blood samples. Could it be aliens collecting our genes?"

"I think some old geezer on Qiwu Star has a health problem and needs a match, so they're collecting blood types worldwide for matching!

Otherwise, why would this stingy country be willing to give us a subsidy of five hundred bucks?"

"The higher-ups have finally dropped the act."

As soon as the [Send Grandpa Network] went online, discussions erupted, filled with all kinds of guesses and doubts.

No one knew what it really was.

At this moment, Shen Yang held his phone, his heart stirred.

He vaguely felt that this was an opportunity.

After all, the person he had followed back then was clearly no ordinary man—he was a cultivator.

He had existed even before the Three Realms descended.

Most importantly, from that person's few words, he felt that person... was not a great villain.

Otherwise, after selling the cultivation method, he wouldn't have thoughtfully said it was sold.

"Should I give it a try?" Shen Yang thought to himself.

After all, this didn't cost a million.

At worst, it would cost him his life.

But it might offer hope... of stepping onto the path of immortality.

That was better than spending a million to be a sword slave in the Doushen Sect.

(Chapter End)