Chapter 1344: Praying to the God... Does Not Open Eyes

Chapter 1344: Pray to the God… Do Not Open Your Eyes

As Zi Qing’s voice echoed, countless butterflies burst forth from the collapsing ink-wash painting, blanketing the sky and earth, swarming around Xu Qing.

As they fluttered, tricolored dust drifted from their wings, suffusing the air in every direction.

It coalesced into… a Cage of Fate!

This cage regarded human life as trajectories of stars. By invoking divine authority over destiny, it intercepted stellar paths and folded them into hexagonal prisons.

Whoever was trapped within would find all actions twisted and influenced by the force of fate.

Be it divine arts, spells, or any other deed—they would loop back along the cycle of destiny, forming a closed circuit of “self-return.”

Like being lost in an inescapable labyrinth, with no path out and no salvation in sight.

Such was the nature of the cage—and when fused with fate…

It gained the self-perpetuating loop of destiny itself!

Now, immersed in thick tricolored dust, Xu Qing faced precisely this predicament.

His body had clearly stepped forward, shattering space—but when he reappeared, he stood behind his original position.

Even his Laws of Order suffered the same fate.

Every action formed a closed loop.

Xu Qing’s brow furrowed slightly. He halted his steps and ceased all attacks, standing still, his eyes gleaming with profound insight as he sensed the Cage of Fate.

At that very moment, the cyclical current of fate within the cage silently manifested.

A scene from history replaced the tricolored haze, radiating outward from Xu Qing as its center, unfolding like a mirage.

Faint figures began appearing around him—more and more, men and women, old and young.

The surroundings shifted rapidly: no longer misty dust, but the silhouettes of buildings emerged.

These figures and structures multiplied at an astonishing pace. In mere breaths… a city from Xu Qing’s memory materialized before his eyes!

And with it came a cacophony of voices, vivid and complete!

“Fresh tanghulu here!”

“May next year bring good harvests.”

“Everyone, keep orderly—don’t crowd too tightly!”

“Passersby, good folk! Come see our shop—we make ritual paper that burns with tricolored smoke!”

Countless voices erupted at once, flooding into Xu Qing’s ears, causing his motionless body to tremble.

Not far off, several children ran toward the distance, clutching wooden figurines.

“The hour is near—we must hurry!”

Watching this, Xu Qing’s body shook violently. Every detail before him was unmistakably Wushuang City—from his own memories!

His form, too, was no longer that of an adult. With the city’s emergence, he reverted to the age of seven.

In that instant of recognition, a gentle female voice sounded behind him.

“Qing’er, why have you stopped? Are you waiting for your brother?”

The voice was achingly familiar—yet strangely distant.

Familiar, because it was an echo forever etched in Xu Qing’s memory.

Distant, because he hadn’t heard it in so very long.

Thus, that tender maternal voice struck Xu Qing’s heart like a mountainous boulder rivaling the heavens, churning endless tempests within his soul.

Trembling, he turned.

And there they were—the two most cherished figures from his past.

“Father… Mother…”

Xu Qing whispered.

Before his eyes stood a man and a woman.

The man, middle-aged yet still handsome despite his weathered look; beside him, the woman, slender but radiating boundless tenderness.

Both gazed at him with deep concern.

“This child—why are his eyes red again?” the man sighed helplessly.

The woman smiled, crouching down and gently stroking Xu Qing’s head, her voice brimming with affection.

“Qing’er, you’re a little man now—you can’t cry every time your brother leaves. Come… let Mother hold you.”

She wrapped her arms around him, lifted him up, kissed his cheek, and said with a smile,

“Don’t cry, Qing’er. Your brother went to buy tanghulu—he’ll be back soon.”

“Look over there. Today is the Festival of Divine Supplication. The rites are about to begin.”

Cradling little Xu Qing, she pointed toward the distance.

There, atop a towering wooden altar at the heart of Wushuang City, over a hundred prisoners knelt prostrate. Before them stood a figure clad in crimson robes, raising his voice to the heavens in a uniquely modulated chant that resonated across the land:

“In the 135th year of Tian Qi, under the sign of Nan Huang, as the moon enters Gui Xiu on the eve of night—

We, mere insects crawling upon the Twin Capitals, dare offer this foul sacrifice unto You, O Scarred-Faced God:

Long ago, the Azure Jade fell to earth; the Black Tortoise’s leg snapped. When first Your eye opened, the crimson sun melted into molten iron, boiling the Five Lakes; stars shattered into arrows, piercing through the Nine Wilds.

Now, ruins still smolder with ghostly flames; the living feed on grave soil. Yet blood clots upon Your lashes, reflecting humanity’s last gasps.”

“O God!”

“We beg but a breath leaking from between Your teeth—that breath is the firewood of our stolen lives! We beg but the shadow cast by Your fallen brow—that shadow is the shelter where common folk flee calamity!”

“Today we offer You one hundred prisoners: gouge out their eyes to light candles that sear Your eyelids; carve out their livers to oil that seals Your tear ducts.”

“May You close Your eyes!”

“May You sleep forever!”

“Pray to the God… do not open Your eyes!”

The chant reverberated—and at that moment, every citizen of Wushuang City bowed their heads, echoing the same plea:

“Pray to the God… do not open Your eyes!”

Yet just as countless voices converged and surged outward…

High above in the firmament, that vast, sacred, oppressive visage—scarred and immense—suddenly… cracked open a slit in its shut eye!

And its gaze fell directly upon Wushuang City.

Thus, horror descended upon the world.

All buildings began to dissolve, aging millennia in moments, crumbling into dust that rose skyward.

Countless ordinary people instantly transformed—becoming shrieking, bloodthirsty beasts, slaughtering without end.

Life withered away at an astonishing speed.

Death swept over everything.

Those who had not been transformed met fates even more wretched—their bodies shattered into fragments, and all things, in this dissolution, became offerings.

What Xu Qing saw before his eyes was the futile struggle of countless beings, the world’s colors bleeding into red.

Countless cries of terror and despair, born in the moments before death, now echoed through Wushuang City, mingling with the falling rain of blood—

among them, the voices of Xu Qing’s own parents.

The middle-aged man disintegrated before Xu Qing’s very eyes.

And Xu Qing himself collapsed onto the ground—

for the gentle woman who had held him was now nothing but a pool of blood…

All of Wushuang City had turned into the Yellow Springs, and the rain of blood… fell upon the mortal realm.

Amidst that crimson downpour, seven-year-old Xu Qing, drenched in gore, sat silently lost in thought.

He had lived through this scene—it remained vivid in his memory.

“Father… Mother…”

An immeasurable sorrow, beyond words to capture even a fraction, raged within him like a storm, roaring without cease.

Tears streaming down his face, he lowered his head, staring at the blood soaking his body—

blood formed from his mother’s melted flesh.

Long moments passed. Amidst the crumbling of countless buildings, the dissolving of innumerable beasts and corpses, and beneath the endless rain of blood, a figure appeared in the distance.

He held a candied hawthorn stick, walking through drifting dust and crimson rain, stepping through sticky pools of blood until he stood before Xu Qing.

Blooddrops fell upon the candied fruit, staining it ever deeper red.

Then he bent down, raised his right hand, and reached to stroke Xu Qing’s head.

“Little brother, don’t cry.”

…

Inside the imperial palace of the Zi-Qing Upper Kingdom, Crown Prince Zi-Qing murmured softly.

Outside the hall, in another timeline, his other self now stood just beyond the cage of fate, his right hand plunging deep into the tri-colored dust.

Watching this, the Zi-Qing seated within the palace let a profound glint flicker in his eyes.

“As for your divine body… I shall take it.”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted toward the distant horizon—

toward Mount Zhaoxia.

Almost the instant his eyes turned that way, within Fenghai Prefecture, Mount Zhaoxia… suddenly erupted with thunderous force!

An overwhelming divine might, impossible to resist, burst forth from the mountain like a volcanic deluge, surging outward in every direction with desperate, boundless fury.

Under that surge, Zhou Zhengli and the others tasked with maintaining the sealing array instantly convulsed, each spewing blood as they were flung backward.

The reinforcement of the seal—failed!

Without Xu Qing to restrain it, Crown Prince Zi-Qing’s strike this time carried world-shaking divine power. The moment Zhou Zhengli and his companions failed, Seventh Master on Mount Zhaoxia also trembled violently.

Even though he was a Xia Immortal, he ultimately could not withstand it.

The array beneath his feet cracked inch by inch; no matter how desperately he tried to cast spells, it was already too late.

In the next instant, the entire formation collapsed completely.

A divine aura surged skyward from the shattered array—

and with it emerged Xu Qing’s divine body!

Soaring upward with terrifying pressure and awe-inspiring momentum, it shot forth like a comet toward the Tuntian Great Domain, toward the Zi-Qing Upper Kingdom—

arriving in an instant!

It appeared directly within the imperial palace, right before Crown Prince Zi-Qing seated on his throne!

Gazing at the divine form, Crown Prince Zi-Qing let out a soft sigh.

“Little brother… you still weren’t ready after all.”

Murmuring these words, the prince upon the dragon throne raised his right hand and reached forward to seize.

Immediately, Xu Qing’s divine body hurtled toward him—and Zi-Qing clamped his fingers around its neck,

preparing to absorb it.

But at that very moment—disaster struck!

Crown Prince Zi-Qing’s expression changed abruptly!

For the first time since this confrontation began, a flicker of shock flashed in his eyes.

Without hesitation, he released his grip and hurled Xu Qing’s divine body away—

but it was already too late!

He had absorbed a portion of it.

As his body trembled violently, the discarded divine form suddenly blazed with light—and in the same instant, its shape transformed.

It became… a shard of mirror!

The Xian of Mi-Ming!

And the moment that mirror fragment appeared, a single finger… shot forth from within it at blinding speed, striking toward Crown Prince Zi-Qing with lightning force!

Though this sequence seems long in telling, it unfolded in less than a breath.

For the first time since his resurrection, Zi-Qing faced an overwhelming brush with death—a crisis so intense it seized his entire being.

At that exact moment, outside the palace hall, the other Zi-Qing—whose right hand had already plunged deep into the tri-colored dust of the Fate Cage—

vanished abruptly!

He reappeared inside the hall, directly in front of his present self—

blocking the finger emerging from the mirror shard!

The instant that finger made contact with him, Zi-Qing’s body shuddered violently, visibly beginning to crumble. Within a single breath…

that body and the finger annihilated each other, vanishing into nothingness.

Meanwhile, the Zi-Qing seated on the dragon throne coughed up a great mouthful of golden blood, his breathing growing ragged as he lifted his head to stare toward the Fate Cage outside the hall.

The Fate Cage was collapsing!

The tri-colored dust was dissipating.

And within that fading haze, a seven-year-old child walked steadily forward.

As he advanced, his form changed rapidly—one step, one year older.

By the time he fully emerged from the tri-colored dust, standing there was no longer a child—but the adult Xu Qing!

He looked at Crown Prince Zi-Qing within the hall and slowly opened his mouth to speak.

“A pity.”

Inside the grand hall, Prince Ziqing wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. For the first time, his gaze upon Xu Qing rippled with emotion—finally settling into admiration.

...

At that very moment, deep within the Fourth Star Ring, atop a colossal star, Immortal Lord Mi Ming opened his eyes from meditation and withdrew his finger.

He let out a soft sigh.

“So close.”

Behind him sat another figure in meditative posture—

none other than Xu Qing’s true divine form… the one he had subdued.