Chapter 673: Freedom Is Hard to Obtain

Chapter 673: Freedom Elusive

"Seeing the Patriarch off to ascension, adding another immortal to our Eternal Joy!"

"The Eternal Joy Dao shines, immortal light stern, heavenly qi surges, prosperity flourishes day by day!"

Up and down the mountains, a chorus like mountain cries and ocean roars.

Countless fervent faces reflected in the icy, desolate eyes of Fuli.

In the grand mural adorning the hall’s walls, the gods cast downcast gazes upon a bleak scene, as if unwilling to behold the corpse slowly dissipating on the ground.

Shentu wore a faint smile, calmly observing the unfolding events, as if he had long foreseen this very scene.

"Shentu, do the words of your Eastern Emperor Palace still hold?"

Shentu nodded and smiled at the words: "Rest easy, Daoist, for since the Divine Sovereign himself pledged this promise, it shall not be altered."

"Then let us act, lest we waste more time."

"We shall obey the Daoist’s decree."

Shentu clasped his hands before his waist, bowed low in a myriad‑blessings salute, then turned to face the Chao Yuan diagram.

Clang!

Only then did a woman draw from the void a narrow, slender blade; its light flowed like autumn water, tracing fine silken threads—one end entwined with the ritual implement held aloft by the statue’s hand, the other stretching beyond the hall’s roof, vanishing into unknown realms.

The Dream Lord’s decree 【Time Flies Like a Shuttle】 rewound the chronology within Eternal Joy’s cavern, returning all here to the moment before Zhang Jiexi’s plunder.

Yet the authority embodied by the Bing‑character immortal seat remained tightly bound to Zhang Jiexi; only by severing every link could this portion of power be cleanly excised.

To achieve this, we must rely on the implement in Shentu’s hand, capable of cleaving the myriad things of the Yellow Millet.

The Dream Lord’s edict 【Peak of Tao Breaks Barriers】!

The treasure, lost then recovered, now faced loss once more. The gods lining the walls lived vividly, their faces aflame with wrath and resentment, yet none dared impede the woman’s motion.

The blade fell; the threads snapped like harp strings, emitting a piercing, shrill tone.

Boom!

Outside the hall, wind and clouds shifted abruptly; pallid lightning rent the firmament, and a sudden deluge poured like the Heavenly River inverted, sweeping over every temple, great and small, upon the mountain.

"What demon dares to steal the Celestial Master’s immortal seat?!"

In the dim light, a hoarse, furious roar echoed; the myriad Yellow Millet ghosts, reborn through borrowed corpses, fell to their knees beneath heavenly might, trembling.

Within the hall, the deities’ expressions shifted from startled rage to mournful sorrow; the spiritual light in their brows dimmed as the implement was stripped away, gradually freezing into the wall.

Boom!

Another thunderclap split the air; the artifact symbolizing the Bing‑character celestial seat of Eternal Joy Palace was wholly severed, floating aloft, seized tight by a hand.

The implement in hand flashed with resplendent radiance, dispelling the gloom on Zhang Chongcheng’s face; at last his clenched lips eased into a faint smile.

"Vile beast, it is you! You dare betray Dragon and Tiger!"

Zhang Jiexi’s furious voice thundered from the implement, a low rumble reverberating through the hall.

"Why should I not dare? Why should I not be able?"

Panic, tension, excitement.

Zhang Chongcheng’s long‑suppressed emotions, held tight within his breast, burst forth at this rebuke.

"We three brothers have endured humiliation and borne burdens for years, all for a single chance to shake off your ancient monster’s grip!"

Zhang Chongcheng stared fixedly at the pearl‑like implement cradled in his palms, exhaling a long, turbid breath as if a weight had lifted.

"Alas, only I have secured this opportunity."

Zhang Chongcheng slowly brought his hands together; the obscured jewel‑light once again traced the shadows upon his visage.

Amid the shadowed features, only a pair of eyes gleamed with bright vitality.

Zhang Chongcheng slowly lifted his head; in his shifting gaze he seemed to behold once more the ancestral hall, lit by candles yet shrouded in sunless gloom, and returned to the days when communication was confined to glances, heavy with oppression.

Zhang Chonglie, Zhang Chongyuan, and Zhang Chongcheng himself had long known of Zhang Jiexi’s presence, and had dwelled as parasites within the elder brother Chonglie’s body.

The Dao‑born demonic fetus, both calamity and catastrophe.

"Chonglie elder brother sought to seal you utterly within his flesh, yet though he sat motionless in the ancestral hall for countless days and nights, turning his black hair to white, he could not succeed; he could only watch as you devoured him whole. I know not how he endured so many years—were it me, I would surely have gone mad long ago." "Chongyuan elder brother also lost. Unwilling to await death, he deliberately struck the master of Chen Qisheng, Sun Lu, hoping to lure Li Jun onto Dragon‑Tiger Mountain, to escape the Dragon‑Tiger cavern and find a sliver of chance amid the peril threatening the gate."

Zhang Chongcheng spoke calmly: "Yet he misjudged Li Jun’s strength; before he could seize an opportunity to plunder another sect’s immortal seat, defeat came and you burned him alive to ashes."

"Decades of imprisonment and blockade have robbed us of the world’s splendor, leaving only this modest Dragon‑Tiger Mountain in view; yet precisely because our sight is limited to this fragment, we are all the more unwilling to relinquish it."

Zhang Chongcheng was certain the other could hear his words.

"Zhang Jiexi, my venerable master, do you recall what Chongyuan elder brother said before he renounced the Dao? He urged you to open your eyes and truly behold how Dragon‑Tiger Mountain, in your hands, has fallen into decay."

Zhang Chongcheng spat with hatred: "Followers have scattered, the Dao’s seeds lie barren, heavenly orbits and stars are repeatedly plundered, technical arts stagnate. All because of your selfish desire, your fear of death, Dragon‑Tiger Mountain declines day after day—what face have you to continue bearing the title of Celestial Master Zhang?"

"Speak no more; without the True Celestial Master, whence would you come?"

A faint yet bone‑chilling sound issued from the cracks of Zhang Chongcheng’s fingers.

"Indeed, Heaven‑Earth Sovereign Parent‑Teacher, to us you have monopolized those five characters; yet what then? Must we sacrifice all for you?"

"To betray Dragon‑Tiger Mountain is to deserve nothing at all."

"Is that so?"

Zhang Chongcheng’s tone dripped scorn: "Zhang Jiexi, I have mastered your art of merging with the Dao; to me you hold no worth any longer. Since you crave Dragon‑Tiger Mountain, since you wish to be the Celestial Master Zhang, take it—everything is yours."

Zhang Chongcheng’s face split into a grin of pure delight: "I need only this life."

"Congratulations, younger brother, on regaining freedom."

"Congratulations, younger brother, on regaining freedom."

In a haze, Zhang Chongcheng distinctly saw Chonglie and Chongyuan standing to left and right, offering him clasped‑hand congratulations.

"Two elder brothers, rest easy as you pass on; we have prevailed."

The artifact symbolizing authority was wholly refined, dissipating within Zhang Chongcheng’s palm.

He turned his gaze to Shentu: "Come, let us now enter the Dragon‑Tiger cavern together!"

".

Shentu remained unmoved, his countenance dark and unsightly, fixed upon Zhang Chongcheng’s rear.

"Huh?"

Zhang Chongcheng glanced back, seeing a figure in strange attire leaning against the hall’s doorway.

"Not that Elder Zou said, but this world is truly odd: you exalted nobles, each of you lives unfree, while I, a nobody asked of none, am filled with the world’s vicissitudes, brimming with the contemptuous glances others disdain."

Zou Forty‑Nine pursed his lips, clicking his tongue: "You too are a Dao‑adept; can you explain why this is so?"

Despite his surprise at Zou Forty‑Nine’s appearance, Zhang Chongcheng felt no tension.

For he had now merged his Dao with the Bing‑character immortal seat; within the Yellow Millet realm, even a Dream Lord such as Zou Forty‑Nine could not retain him.

"Shentu, since your Eastern Emperor Palace itself exposed its whereabouts, I cannot be blamed for breaking my word."

Zhang Chongcheng turned to face Zou Forty‑Nine, smiling softly: "As for you, you are no longer those ant‑like insignificant folk; why should you concern yourself with their feelings?"

Friends, the matter here is settled; I, a humble Daoist, shall take my leave first.

Under the meaningful gaze of Zou Jiujiu, Zhang Chongcheng performed a solemn bow, then began to manipulate the spell in place.

No matter how Zhang Chongcheng tried to mobilize the celestial seat that had merged with him, he could not leave this cave heaven.

Moreover, he horrifiedly discovered that he seemed welded to the seat, unable even without obstruction to sever his link with Huang Liang.

This feeling was as if he had become a Huang Liang ghost; this place clearly belonged to him.

“How could this be? Impossible, absolutely not like this.”

After repeated futile attempts, Zhang Chongcheng's emotions began to swing wildly, like an ordinary mortal slapping his whole body, trying to locate the problem.

Suddenly.

Zhang Chongcheng tore open the front of his Daoist robe, only to see the vanished pearl artifact now implanted upon his chest, distinct muscles writhing incessantly, drawing his consciousness, squeezing out his soul.

“The people of the Donghuang Palace could turn against Zhang Jiji, a Dao Second, just to curry favor with Huang Liang; how could a Dao Third like you simply take it? Zhang Jiji could merge because he was already a Dao Second, not because of this artifact. You three brothers have lain awake, hidden your blades, secretly studying for years—don’t you understand yet?”

Zou Jiujiu gazed pitifully at Zhang Chongcheng, who kept digging at his chest flesh with his fingers, gradually slipping into madness.

“Besides, only when a person is on the brink of death do they experience so many inexplicable hallucinations and have so much they want to blurt out.”

Zhang Chongcheng ignored his words, continuing to tear at the artifact lodged in his chest, as if it were the cage imprisoning him; ripping it apart would grant freedom.

Yet in Zou Jiujiu’s eyes, that spot was utterly empty, save for the torn wound and blotches of blood—nothing else.

Even if merging with the Dao could not let him escape, this poor soul never possessed even that chance; he merely fell into another dream crafted by others.

“Zou Jiujiu, this concerns you not; you’d best not meddle.”

Shen Tu’s gaze turned icy and cold, the former charm vanished, leaving only a stern, killing intent.

“Li Jun is currently dueling with Zhang Jiji; taking his authority now would also benefit you.”

“You know it’s Old Li holding back Zhang Jiji, right?”

Zou Jiujiu laughed: “By rights, we’ve contributed more than you this time; these privileges, however they’re divided, should include a share for us. If you want to hog them all, isn’t that a bit underhanded?”

Shen Tu intoned solemnly: “You too are of the Yin-Yang Order; you should know the essence of authority. It is a tool wielded by outsiders seeking to bind and control Huang Liang. Returning Huang Liang is the only right path, and it is the mission and duty upon our Yin-Yang Order’s shoulders!”

“Never mind, spare me these lofty platitudes; I don’t get them.”

Zou Jiujiu snorted coldly: “Besides, even if we truly must return Huang Liang, the reward goes to whoever returns it—do you think I don’t know that?”

*Clang!*

Shen Tu’s sword, the Peach Capital blade forged from the Dream Lord’s rule, trembled and sang, a chill surging through the hall.

Zou Jiujiu crossed his arms over his chest, his hair gradually suffused with a reddish hue.

Just as the clash loomed, Shen Tu’s taut visage suddenly shed its coldness, revealing a smile as warm as a spring breeze.

“Since you desire it so, I’ll grant you this authority; you shall return it to Huang Liang. How does that sound?”

Shen Tu flipped his left palm open; a pearl rose and fell within, unmistakably the Bing-class immortal register of Yongle Palace.

The object of his longing lay plainly beside him, yet Zhang Chongcheng kept digging at his own chest, even as bone showed and blood flowed, without the slightest sign of stopping.

Zou Jiujiu sneered: “Forget it; returning it would just make me someone’s son—I have no interest in rushing to find new parents.”

“Then what exactly do you want to do?”

Shen Tu, hearing this, also knew Zou Jiujiu was mocking him; his smile froze.

“Uncle Zou, I won’t beat around the bush with you either; it’s pointless—I’ll speak plainly.”

Zou Jiujiu stretched his arms, yawned: “Short-handed when taking from others, soft-mouthed when eating their food. Old Zhang sent me specifically to block you; I can’t very well do nothing, can I?”

As his words fell, the silken threads that had appeared when Shen Tu stripped the authority resurfaced, suffusing the entire cave heaven with a density like a torrential downpour, their ends piercing the skulls of the kneeling Huang Liang ghosts.

Dream Lord’s Rule: [String‑Pulled Stage].

“Bold demon, you dare tresach my Yongle Cave Heaven!”

To the roars and humming talismans echoing from outside the hall, Zou Jiujiu couldn’t be bothered to turn.

“Is this the Dream Lord’s rule of that Zhao Yin? Old Li really—still a Third Order, yet so clumsy, a single punch kills him.” Zou Jiujiu sighed: “If we dragged him back, tossed him into the Ming Gui Realm, and let Ma Ye’s brothers work him over a few rounds, wouldn’t we snag another rule?”

*Boom!*

A mighty thunderbolt struck from the sky, utterly shattering the resplendent Hall of the Three Purities.

The gods and immortals adorning the walls turned to stone fragments; wind and rain roared with laughter, the thunder deafening.

Gazing about, enemies surrounded on all sides.

“Another melee; it seems no one dares to face Uncle Zou in single combat anymore. Still, these shrimp soldiers and crab generals aren’t worthy of my blade.”

Zou Jiujiu stood alone, bearing an overbearing, disdainful mien; his right hand reached into the void and plucked forth a figure.

“Yo ho, Master Shen, what’s the meaning of you clutching your trousers?”

Shen Li, dragged by Zou Jiujiu from the Yellow Earth Eternal Suppression, stared blankly, hands gripping his pants, unaware of what had happened, before being drenched by the downpour.

After all, a moment ago he had been preparing to spar with the top champion of the Jinmen region.

“Master Shen, could this be the tempering of the martial heart you spoke of?”

Unlocked memories surged; Shen Li instantly grasped it, his face unchanging as he tucked the waistband.

“What’s not fighting is fighting—does it mean we can only strike men, not women?”

Zou Jiujiu chuckled: “Well said, but now we brothers have hit a snag and need your aid.”

“You call this a little?”

Shen Li looked about; the dense throng of silhouettes, talismans, and flying swords made his scalp prickle.

“Fear not; in this dream I am invincible, and so are you.”

Shen Li hadn’t yet recovered when his peripheral vision caught familiar silhouettes.

Li Jun, Su Ce, Jiang Wei, Yi Huang.

Whether lone wanderers or sect disciples, martial order after martial order appeared one after another in the void!

“Gentlemen, thanks for your effort; give Shen Li a shoulder!”

Zou Jiujiu gave a long laugh, waved his hand; all nodded in unison, stepped toward Shen Li, and merged with him.

In an instant, Shen Li felt his qi and blood surge tumultuously; clenching his fist, he sensed he could shatter heaven and earth.

As his form flickered, severed limbs flew, blood spattered.

Dao bodies and arts were naught but chickens and dogs, easily crushed.

*Clang!*

The sword sang high; Zou Jiujiu slowly lifted his gaze to see a blade of peerless sharpness flash into his sight.

Yet the next moment, all swordlight vanished in an instant, even that long Peach Capital sword disappearing without trace.

Dream Lord’s Rule: [Eternal Night’s Seal]!

*Slap!*

Zou Jiujiu slapped Shen Tu across the face, sending her flying.

“Didn't you hear what I, Master Shen, just said? Women get struck just the same!”

Zou Jiujiu brushed his temples with both hands, gazing at the wretched Shentu flung into the mud.

“Hand over the Dream Lord's edicts, and I'll grant you a swift release!”