Chapter 674: The Vicissitudes of Victory and Defeat

Chapter 674: The Shifting of Victory and Defeat

“Who dares steal this celestial seat of mine?!”

Zhang Xiji’s furrowed brow darkened as his divine aura, usually serene, roared like a malevolent tide, sweeping across all directions.

The sudden surge of fury failed to intimidate Li Jun; instead, he seized the fleeting moment when Zhang’s power waned, forcing his way through with relentless vigor.

In close combat, aside from the solitary rage unleashed in desperate resolve, every other fluctuation of emotion became an exposed flaw.

Click!

A palm sheathed in armored plating pierced the seemingly tangible Daoist sequence of divine thoughts, sparks erupting from the friction as it tore through, the malevolent figure wreathed in black-red lightning squeezing in.

At a distance of mere three zhang, Li Jun stamped his right foot, reducing the ground to dust, his spine twisting as he thrust and kicked in one fluid motion, his right fist, swollen with reaccumulated sharpness, hurtling toward Zhang Xiji’s face!

The fallen immortal’s eyes flashed with cold intent. Having tasted much martial blood, he understood well that hesitation now would only grant his opponent the upper hand, plunging him into endless pursuit.

Moreover, behind him stood Yan Dongqing, whose heart longed for death. To lose this pawn here would be a waste indeed.

Thud!

The force, like a spear’s tip, collided head-on with the shield woven from nothingness, the rising sonic boom echoing like thunder rolling across flat land.

The divine artifact of the Dao Ancestor, suspended above, bathed the ruined city in endless radiance, illuminating it as bright as noon. Amidst the swirling dust and clamor, two indistinct figures clashed, their light and shadow colliding.

Chen Qisheng, clad in armor and wielding a sword, stood mid-air, his inner qi weaving into a towering phantom stretching dozens of zhang behind him.

The face of the Dharma Aspect, once hazy, now bore traces of Chen Qisheng’s visage. Raising his sword, he aimed directly at the floating mountain peak and the blooming bronze lotus artifact, their distant standoff charged with tension.

Rumble!

Another thunderous boom rose from the earth, and two vastly different figures were flung backward through the haze.

Li Jun’s form dipped slightly, his feet pressing hard into the ground, carving a trench of shattered stones several zhang long. Only after settling did the surrounding area sink several inches, finally dispelling the troublesome Daoist divine thoughts.

“Huff”

A mist-like breath of lung and viscera spewed from Li Jun’s nostrils. With a fresh inhalation, his wilted presence surged anew, even more exuberant and fierce.

Since ascending to the Third Sequence, this was his first time engaging in such a direct confrontation.

Without question, Zhang Xiji’s endurance was truly worthy of a Second Sequence master.

In contrast, though Zhang Xiji’s retreat was subtle, the trembling of his arms was unmistakable, his Daoist sleeves fluttering ceaselessly.

“Is this the revolution?”

Zhang Xiji glanced at his spread palm, its surface a ruin yet without a trace of blood. The exposed bones were riddled with axe-split notches, the Daoist patterns carved upon them ground to oblivion.

As his divine thoughts neared, he felt an indescribable sharpness.

Like blade meeting throat, edge grazing the brow.

To touch was to die; to block meant immediate severance.

This was no mere feat of weapon refinement—it was more akin to…

“The Dream Master’s rules, the Martial Artist’s rules—how absurd! Preposterous!”

Zhang Xiji let out a cold snort, his divine thoughts converging to grind his hands inch by inch into powder.

For the New Daoist Order, flesh was but a vessel.

Even a certified Eighth Body meant little to Zhang Xiji.

From behind, Yan Dongqing witnessed it all, his expression as solemn as ever, his vigilant gaze tinged with profound sorrow, as if unwilling to witness this mortal wretchedness.

“Master, let this end. This calamity has already claimed too many innocents, and I would not see you harmed for my sake.”

The scholar who had once courted disaster now spoke of sparing the innocent.

Though every word was sincere, the scene reeked of unspoken absurdity.

To onlookers, his actions seemed akin to mocking a madman.

“Speak not of others—without this Master, how could you exist?!”

A senseless reply reached Yan Dongqing’s ears, his brows twitching.

To him, the words seemed less an answer and more a dialogue with the vengeful souls who perished beneath the heavens.

Yet in a heartbeat, he grasped the reason.

“It seems Zhang Chongcheng has already made his move. Alas, no matter how he struggles, he is doomed to never leave Longhu Mountain alive.”

Yan Dongqing sighed inwardly, yet felt no contempt—only pity.

In his eyes, Zhang Chongcheng was no fool, but a man of unyielding resolve.

Since being chosen as a Dao Union helper and promoted to the Celestial Master’s Mansion, Zhang Chongcheng had lived decades in Zhang Xiji’s shadow.

Compared to his two elder brothers, his patience and calculation were far superior, allowing him to survive the consecutive rebellions of Zhang Chonglian and Zhang Chongyuan unscathed.

But in the end, who could remain unmoved?

Even those who espoused “transcending emotion” could not entirely ignore decades of shared survival and mutual reliance.

Watching his two elder brothers die, and the arrival of figures like Lianggong Ming, Zhang Chongcheng’s patience had all but crumbled.

Especially Zhang Chongyuan’s serene acceptance in the face of certain death had only intensified his desire to escape Longhu.

He understood that even if he feigned loyalty and lingered for an opportunity, Zhang Xiji would not grant him one. Once Fu Li and Lianggong Ming fell, it would be his turn next.

As long as he remained another’s pawn, he would never escape the fate of being sacrificed.

Thus, he had seized the flaw, using the “Ritual Arts” to gradually erode Zhang Chongcheng’s vigilance.

Treating with courtesy, revealing sincerity.

Zhang Chongcheng had chosen to trust him and the Donghuang Palace’s promises, agreeing to lead their forces into Longhu’s hidden realm in exchange for a Bing-character immortal seat that might save his life.

“Dao Union, Dao Union. How can one with joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure be deemed a Daoist? How could They allow your Daoist order to defile It through conquest and fusion?”

“When Dao gives birth to demons, and one can no longer remain aloof, even if power nears divinity, one shall never be an immortal. Zhang Xiji is one, and so are you, Zhang Chongcheng.”

Yan Dongqing’s fleeting thoughts sealed Zhang Chongcheng’s fate.

“Master, do not let minor losses outweigh the greater good!”

Withdrawing his gaze, Yan Dongqing fixed his eyes on the Daoist’s back, his voice solemn: “Though the situation is dire now, as long as you remain, these trials are naught. But if you fall here, even slightly wounded, it would spell catastrophe for the entire Dragon Tiger Dao Realm!”

“Your words hold merit.”

In Yan Dongqing’s abruptly narrowed gaze, the figure ahead turned, eyes sharp as an eagle’s and a wolf’s, their mockery chilling him to the core, stirring an inexplicable unease.

“Since you, Sect Head Yan, are so reasonable, you shall die.”

Zhang Xiji waved his hand, his vast divine thoughts enveloping Yan Dongqing, hurtling him toward the black-red lightning that shot from the ground.

Li Jun halted abruptly, gripping Yan Dongqing’s skull with one arm. From between his fingers, a pair of restless eyes darted about.

“Li Jun, there’s something wrong here—don’t kill me, we still have a partnership.”

Urgent words reached him from within Yan Dongqing’s palm.

Li Jun turned his gaze, interrupting: “Of course there’s a problem, but you’ve only just realized it—too late.”

“Right, Zhang Lao told me to tell you: your tricks are relics from his past, outdated but not terrible. What you shouldn’t have done was overestimate yourself and play mind games with a bunch of Second Sequences.”

"They can lose a thousand times, but you need only lose once, and the ending can only be death."

Yan Dongqing’s eyes widened abruptly. In that instant, a question he could not suppress surged unbidden in his mind.

Since Zhang Chongcheng could be deceived by the Eastern Imperial Palace, why did he believe the Eastern Imperial Palace would reincarnate *him*?

The self-questioning roared like thunder in his mind, detonating a horrifying tsunami in Yan Dongqing’s heart!

"No, I wasn't deceived. I still have value to them alive. I can split the Confucian Order for them, checkmate Zhang Fengyue! They won't give me up so easily!"

"But once you fall into *their* hands, even if you live, will you still be *you*? Will they still need *you* to be *you*? Yan Dongqing, a makeshift Confucian Third Step like you—can you even distinguish what is real from what is false?"

Between life and death, Yan Dongqing seemed to truly achieve the transcendence he had just mocked, answering the echoing question in his heart from a bystander's perspective.

Suddenly, his thoughts and his vision both cleared with startling clarity.

Two eyeballs burst from their sockets, letting Yan Dongqing see an upside-down world that was nonetheless pitch-black all the same.

"Sure enough, no self-awareness at all. Every single one of your hearts is truly fucking filthy, but luckily that old bastard Zhang is the filthiest of them all."

Li Jun cursed under his breath, no longer looking at the mangled corpse beneath his feet, blown to bits by the collapsing force. His gaze turned once more to Zhang Jiji.

Four eyes met, both filled with a bone-deep chill.

Things having come to this, no one needed to feign madness or play the fool any longer. Both saw clearly where the other's blade pointed, and at whom.

The key now was simply whose move was faster.

Whether inside the dream, or outside it!

*Clang!*

The intertwined gazes separated instantly. Li Jun and Zhang Jiji both looked up at the sky.

A colossal Dharma Aspect loomed over the mountain peak, gripping an azure longsword in both hands, slashing down viciously at that blooming Copper Lotus!

*Clang!*

A shattered lotus petal crashed into the mountains. Rocks collapsed, vegetation overturned, the mountain body trembled unceasingly, its suspended altitude forced down by the blow.

Higher up, the giant sword-star orbiting the array formation gathered brilliant radiance at its tip, yet hesitated to fall, fearing it would implicate Kunlun, pressed tight against the Dharma Aspect's figure.

Be it the New Dao Sequence or a Dao Ancestor's artifact, once someone got in their face, rode them close, it was the same awkward predicament.

The heavens were like this; the ground was the same.

"Wudang remnant."

Killing intent churned in Zhang Jiji's eyes, but before he could act, black-red lightning flashed before him.

"Old thing, you're the fucking lingering remnant!"

*Boom!*

Vengeful spirits lingered over Fuliang City; Dragon Tiger Mountain blazed with lights.

Amidst the majestic peaks, the tallest summit was precisely where the Dragon Tiger Mountain Celestial Master's Mansion resided.

"Father."

A tightly shut secret chamber door was pushed open. The driven-back shadows revealed Zhang Chongcheng sitting in meditation.

"Father. You should wake up."

Zhang Qingli slowly crouched down, his gaze level with those tightly closed eyes.

Perhaps it was a stirring of bloodline, or perhaps the final rally before death. Zhang Chongcheng actually broke free from his delusion, trembling as he opened his eyes.

"Qing'er."

The dim pupils held no more madness or obsession, no more hatred or resentment, only peace and a faint, lingering affection.

Zhang Qingli nodded in reply: "I am here."

"Father lost. I struggled all my life, never imagining I would lose to a moment of muddle-headedness."

Zhang Chongcheng's voice was soft, like self-reflection, yet also like a warning.

"It wasn't a moment of muddle-headedness, Father. You were destined to lose from the very beginning."

Zhang Qingli supported his father's collapsing body, speaking slowly: "If on the day you entered the Celestial Master's Mansion, when Zhang Jiji was at his weakest, you had joined Uncle Chongyuan to kill Uncle Chonglian, the vessel he possessed, how could there have been these decades of fear and unease? How could there be today's unwillingness?"

"You—"

An expression of disbelief surfaced on Zhang Chongcheng's face. His hand trembled as he raised it, wanting to push Zhang Qingli away, only for the latter to gently press his arm back down.

"Father, have you truly never regretted it because of this?"

Zhang Qingli lowered his head, hiding his expression in the shadows.

Zhang Chongcheng stared at the head so close at hand. His lips moved, jaw opening and closing, twitching for a moment before a smile actually emerged.

"I have regretted it, Qing'er. You are stronger than Father. At least now, I finally see you clearly."

"No, you still don't understand."

*Puchi!*

Zhang Chongcheng's body suddenly arched backward violently. He distinctly felt a hand stirring in his abdomen, searching carefully for something.

"Father, don't die yet. Otherwise, this Dao Foundation would go to waste."

Amidst a chilling, viscous sound, a Dao Foundation, golden like a Golden Core, was ripped alive from his body.

Zhang Qingli unfastened his Daoist robe, fingertips slicing open the skin and flesh of his own abdomen, slowly implanting his father's Dao Foundation inside himself.

"Father, Zhang Jiji can eat you all. Can't you eat others? Since you've all chosen the path of cultivation, you claim to be non-human. What's wrong with eating people?"

"Though you were ruthless enough to kill Uncle Chongyuan, using his life to buy Zhang Jiji's trust, you still woke up too late, far too late."

Zhang Qingli finally raised his head. He stood up, patted his own belly, and grinned: "Father, what are Dragon and Tiger? They are clearly man-eating beasts!"

Surging blood choked in his throat, leaving Zhang Chongcheng only able to make hacking sounds.

He strained to look up at Zhang Qingli's retreating back, departing without a shred of nostalgia. A final trace of relief shone in his dissipating gaze.

"Two Senior Brothers, did you see? This mountain is truly interesting."

Zhang Chongcheng fell backward to the sky. In a trance, he saw his senior brothers floating above his head, reaching out to invite him.

"Let's go. This counts as... liberation, too."