Chapter 697: Ants Overturn the Sky

Chapter 697: Ants Toppling Heaven

"Take it."

The copper seal, barely the size of a thumb, flew before him, yet Zou Sijiu did not reach out to catch it, letting it hover frozen in midair.

The object floating before his eyes was merely a physical manifestation; to an eye of the Yin-Yang Sequence Two like Zou Sijiu, what Zhang Fengyue had tossed over was actually a boundless, shoreless phantom sea, harboring within it an innumerable multitude of dreams.

If he were to lay his hands on this thirty percent authority, adding it to the thirty percent he currently held, then forget about some favored son or paramour of Huangliang—the god would practically have to call him father.

If he ever crossed paths with that perverted old ghost Zhan Shun again, it would be the other party turning tail and fleeing, not him.

The value was inestimable, and the temptation was equally irresistible.

Zou Sijiu’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, tearing his gaze away with great difficulty.

"I haven't even paid back what I borrowed before. If I borrow more now, Elder, I'm afraid I won't be able to afford the debt."

Looking at the bitterly smiling Zou Sijiu, Zhang Fengyue naturally understood his meaning.

It wasn't a fear of being unable to repay, but rather a fear that taking it would somehow cost him his own life in a daze.

Zhang Fengyue knew well in his heart that he couldn't blame the other for being so distant and guarded; anyone who had heard Zhang Xiji's words would probably no longer dare to trust him easily.

"It seems the name 'Zhang Fengyue' has already become utterly foul."

The old man sighed with a waning spirit, his robes steeped in self-deprecation and loneliness.

"Old Zou, you've got the bargain of a lifetime, so why are you still acting coy? Hurry up and take it."

Just as the scene turned exceedingly awkward, a voice of extreme weakness suddenly rang out.

A hand covered in mottled, bloody flesh grabbed the floating copper seal and shoved it directly into Zou Sijiu's embrace.

A faint smile tugged at Li Jun's face, which was covered in dust and bloodstains: "He's just the type to suffer for the sake of appearances, unable to lower his face to keep borrowing from you. I can only offer his thanks to you on his behalf."

"Injured to such an extent yet still possessing the strength to babble nonsense with this old man here, you martial artists really are thick-skinned and tough-fleshed enough."

Zhang Fengyue looked at Li Jun, who had awakened from his swoon, and could not help but laugh in spite of himself.

"In the past, I truly felt I was thick-skinned and tough-fleshed, thinking that if I really encountered a Sequence Two, even if I couldn't win, I could at least tire them halfway to death. But this time, I finally understand what it means to have a heaven beyond heaven, and people beyond people."

Li Jun cast a glance at Yuan Mingfei and Zou Sijiu, dragging his heavy steps to the front of the old man, and sat down hard amidst the loose, floating earth covering the ground.

"If I had truly been left to duel Zhang Xiji alone in his peak state, I'm afraid I would already be reporting to the underworld by now. I reckon at this hour, I'd be bargaining with King Yama, seeing if I could switch to another sequence next life to run with Zhang Xiji."

"There are no such reckless brutes like you within the New Daoist Sequence."

Zhang Fengyue blinked, teasing the exhausted man: "It seems fighting this battle has actually taught you some reverence?"

"A fall in the pit, a gain in your wit; what should be understood must be understood. One can't very well take advantage of someone else's death to shamelessly claim all the credit for oneself, right?"

"If Zhang Xiji could hear these words of yours, he would probably die with even more grievances."

"Then there's nothing to be done about it. Who told him to strike so ruthlessly, slaughtering seven or eight out of ten of his own people? In the words of your Confucian Sequence, this is what's called 'a just cause enjoys abundant support, while an unjust cause finds little support.'"

Zhang Fengyue smiled: "So you think of yourself as one who enjoys abundant support because your cause is just?"

"Not me."

Li Jun shook his head, his expression earnest: "It is you, Elder."

Hearing this, Zhang Fengyue froze instantly, staring into those eyes that were still bloodshot yet exceptionally sincere, falling into a brief silence.

"To have a Martial Sequence like you, who specializes only in killing, comfort this old man—I really have lived backward the older I get."

The old man laughed self-deprecatingly, then intentionally glared: "Let's agree beforehand, this old man has absolutely nothing of value left on his entire body now. Even if you violate your conscience and flatter me to high heaven, there are no advantages left for you to claim."

"Well then, it seems my wink was thrown to a blind man."

The two looked at each other and burst into laughter in unison.

"See that? That is what you call knowing how to conduct oneself. Zou Sijiu, you are still a bit too green."

A dark red mechanical eye silently approached the side of his face, startling the dazed Zou Sijiu.

Zou Sijiu rolled his eyes and said irritably: "Master Ma, you aren't dead yet?"

"Close to it. Hurry up and bring out your Huangliang desire tide to moisten me a bit; perhaps it can still hang onto this breath."

"Sure thing, I have sixty percent authority in hand now. Forget about a desire tide, even a sea of desire is not—"

Zou Sijiu chuckled, but suddenly noticed the strands of hair hanging before his eyes turning rapidly red, and the tone of his words instantly shifted.

"—is not within the scope of my ability. Master Ma, you've found the wrong person; I am truly not familiar with those things."

The battered Mohist armor clung to Zou Sijiu's body, a voice as thin as gossamer emerging from the red eye: "Are you really going to watch me die without saving me?"

Zou Sijiu said with a solemn, straight face: "I would love to help, but it's beyond my power!"

"Then that's a pity. Last time, those aunts of yours even said they wanted to introduce their daughters to you—"

The red hair moved without wind, and a murderous aura spread across the fields.

A chill ran down Zou Sijiu's back, feeling as though a pair of icy eyes were staring straight at him from behind.

"Old Ma, what kind of occasion is this right now? Can you stop talking nonsense..."

Desperate for a distraction, Zou Sijiu pressed his voice down and shifted the topic: "Do you think Old Li won't foolishly fall into another pit?"

"Hmph."

The murderous aura gradually faded. Zou Sijiu raised his two trembling hands to slowly wipe his temples, his face full of the joy of surviving a disaster.

"You think this old man would pit us?"

"I know he shouldn't be that kind of person, but..."

"There are no 'buts'."

Master Ma directly interrupted Zou Sijiu's words, saying in a deep voice: "Others devise the plans, we provide the strength. Those killed are all people who have grudges against us, and what we do does not violate anyone's conscience—that is enough. There is no talk of pitting or not pitting. Even if in the end everyone still has to fall out due to different ideas, then it will just be a matter of whose skill is greater, with life and death left to fate."

The banter from afar drifted over with the wind, as if adding a voiceover that both of them knew all too well to the scene of the old and young staring at each other under the ruined eaves over here.

"It seems Little Ma understands your mind the best after all."

"Master Ma speaks bluntly; please don't mind him."

"To tell the truth, this old man didn't like them, the Bright Ghosts, before. I felt they could not even be counted as human, merely weapons and tools created by the Mohist Sequence relying on Huangliang for self-preservation. But looking at it now, they seem more human than those existences with flesh and blood."

"Everyone has a time when their judgment fails. When I was a Jinyiwei in the Japanese District before, the Chiliarch Su Ce hailed from Liaodong; he once told me that you can't judge a person with your eyes, you must judge them through deeds."

"Yes, so in this world, there is no such thing as an infallible Zhang Fengyue; there is only a wretched old man crossing the river by feeling the stones, taking one deep step and one shallow step, covered in mud, yet still unable to be certain if he can successfully wade across this river."

Looking at the sighing and lamenting old man, a wave of unspeakable melancholy rose in Li Jun's heart, like a lump in his throat, leaving him at a loss for how to respond for a moment.

"Regarding Yuan Mingfei's Buddhist Sequence Two, this old man has already done his best. It's just that for faith sequences like the three religions of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, the drawbacks are simply too great. Now the plight of the Buddhist Sequence is even more miserable than that of the Daoist Sequence; her state is barely any different from Zhang Xiji when he lost his 'Status'. Even if her physical body is reshaped, if she wishes to thoroughly mend her own deficiencies, I'm afraid it will require a not-so-short period of time."

Zhang Fengyue closed his eyes and looked into the distance: "Before that, the Barbarian Lands remain your foundation; you cannot stay far away, nor can you lose them. Otherwise, if one domain does not exist, how can the ten directions remain?"

"Many thanks for the guidance, Elder Zhang."

Yuan Mingfei cupped her hands in a salute like a man.

"You and I can be considered even."

The old man turned his head to look before him: "As for you, a rogue Martial Sequence Two is the only one from ancient times to the present. How to continue walking down this path, you should already have a calculation in your heart; this old man, who frequently takes the wrong path, will not mislead you."

Seeing Li Jun's strange expression, Zhang Fengyue could not help but laugh: "What, did you think this old man was arranging his funeral affairs?"

“Indeed, it’s very much like that.” Li Jun spoke bluntly.

“Rest assured, my lifelong wish remains unfulfilled; this final breath I cannot swallow. For now, settling this debt counts as settling it, lest I forget when the day comes.” “Now that Zhang Jixi is dead, the New Sect Dao Order is utterly finished. What do you plan to do next—head straight north?”

Li Jun’s words had not yet faded when the distant sky erupted with a series of piercing blasts, and a pair of vast wings tore through the clouds.

It was the Mo-riding whale arriving.

Not only Chen Qisheng appeared on the Peng’s back, but also many Confucian order members Li Jun had never seen, their leader unmistakably Pei Xianjian.

“Master”

Having no time to attend to Li Jun and the others, Pei Xianjian’s gaze remained fixed on the old man.

After repeatedly confirming his teacher was not in mortal danger, Pei Xianjian’s stern, iron‑blue visage eased slightly, yet a deep sorrow welled in his eyes.

Though he had long received the news, upon truly seeing the corpse concealed beneath the cloak, he could not restrain the surge of emotion within.

In life he drew his sword, eager to slay his foe with his own hands.

But now, severed from yin and yang, the memories that flood his mind are the youthful camaraderie of his school days, lingering and unshaken.

Whether studying the sages in the Yellow Millet dream or navigating affairs in the real world, Pei Xianjian has heard countless tales of loving the deed but hating the person, of love and hatred intertwined.

Previously he scoffed at such notions, deeming them overly sentimental and hypocritical—what sort of person acts thus, if the deed is wrong, how could the person be right?

Yet now he discovers he is no exception, incapable of the clear‑cut love‑hate he once claimed.

Zhang Fengyue nodded, speaking softly: “It’s good you’ve come. Take your senior brother’s remains back to the old academy grounds; compared to Jinling, he would surely prefer that place.”

“Yes.”

Pei Xianjian nodded in reply, his lips twitching faintly, words on the tip of his tongue but unspoken.

“What has happened?”

“Internal strife has erupted within the Law Order; many have turned to the Zhu family. However, before his rebellion, Shang Si Gu had already transferred the Yellow Millet Law Realm, and it now likely lies in Shang Lu’s hands.”

“During this time by my side, he has grown considerably wiser, knowing not to put all his stakes on one side.”

Unlike his earlier genial, even somewhat nagging demeanor toward Li Jun opposite him,

Zhang Fengyue now regains his former aura—deep as an abyss, steadfast as a mountain, facing the winds from all directions with composure.

“But if that were all, your expression shouldn’t be so grim, Pei Xianjian—surely there is more bad news?”

“The court has already issued an edict stripping you of all offices and titles. Numerous aristocratic clans have declared allegiance to the Zhu imperial house, no longer recognizing your status as leader of the New Donglin Party.”

“Besides that, there ought to be a proclamation enumerating your sins, a vitriolic manifesto—something we all anticipated.”

Zhang Fengyue spoke calmly: “Even without the posts of party chief and premier, I still hold the title of Chancellor of the New Donglin Academy; for a while yet I won’t lose this old life merely because my rank has fallen. Is that all?”

“Senior Brother Gao Sheng is dead.”

Pei Xianjian’s voice sank: “He was forced to kneel in the Zhu ancestral temple by Zhu Yiyan and died there, alive.”

Zhang Fengyue fell silent, the furrows on his face like gullies, now deeper than ever.

“Hmm, I understand.”

“On the coast, the Honghu slaughtered the city; Li Bu Fang… he too is dead.”

Perhaps it was an illusion, but as Pei Xianjian spoke those words, the ever‑quiet Li Jun, who had been listening, suddenly sensed the old man as if his flesh and blood had been drained, leaving only a desiccated skin stretched over a gaunt skeleton.

Broken eaves, shattered tiles—the old man resembled a corpse.

Unable to bear the weight of his eyelids, he slowly closed his eyes, “Anything else… speak!”

“It is Yi Zheng; upon hearing the news, he entered the rebel zone alone.”

Versed in ‘Ritual Arts,’ Pei Xianjian dared to berate the world’s clans single‑handedly, heedless of the saying ‘trouble comes from the mouth,’ yet never imagined he would one day utter a sentence so hard to speak.

Word by word, his voice hoarse and unpleasant.

“He said… he wishes to bring back Li Bu Fang’s corpse for you.”

“Ah”

A long sigh, laden with a hundredfold guilt and a thousandfold sorrow.

“That brat”

The old man closed his eyes, a bitter smile: “He still wants to tell the world, on my behalf, that his father Zhang Fengyue is not a heartless, soulless, unfeeling, unjust man.”

Pei Xianjian’s face showed guilt: “It is the student’s fault; this matter should have been mine to handle, I ought to have stopped Yi Zheng.”

“I owe him; it has nothing to do with you.”

Zhang Fengyue shook his head: “He sees things clearer than we do.”

Suddenly, the old man flung open his eyes, his gaze sharp, piercing straight into Li Jun’s depths.

“Li Jun, you asked what I intend to do next; now I tell you. Everyone says under the order, people are like ants. I will let them see that ten million termites can also overturn heaven!”

Zhang Fengyue rose abruptly, strides swift as meteors, the Confucian order following in his wake.

In the distance, a convoy had long been waiting.

Boom!

The isolated, broken eaves finally gave way, collapsing with a thunderous crash, raising clouds of dust.

“What does this mean? Old Zhang intends to fight alone—nothing for us to do?”

The Horse King spoke doubtfully, the red light in his single eye flickering.

“Old Horse, this is you not knowing how to be human.”

Zou Jiujiu crossed his arms, snorted, and said: “You think Pei Xianjian says these things before us for no reason? He is begging us to save someone.”

The Horse King retorted: “Then why doesn’t Zhang Fengyue speak?”

“This”

Zou Jiujiu’s expression froze, unsure how to reply.

“He feels he can no longer repay this favor, so he cannot speak.”

Yuan Mingfei’s voice echoed softly at this moment: “He has already tallied those earlier debts.”

Zou Jiujiu and the Horse King fell silent together, unconsciously turning their gaze to the rising Li Jun.

“Severing Heaven and Earth? Old Zhang, as Zhang Jixi said, you truly are deceiving us. Regardless of whether your true aim is to awaken the people’s wisdom, to rise in rebellion, or to eradicate every order entirely—I have no interest in meddling so deeply.”

Li Jun lifted his eyes to Zhang Fengyue’s retreating back, silently musing in his heart.

After a moment, his gaze settled on the line of black characters that had lingered for a long while.

【Obtained mastery points 600】

【Remaining mastery points 642】

【Consumed 320 mastery points, martial art Hidden Spirit enhanced.】

【Consumed 320 mastery points, martial art Overcome Enemy enhanced.】

“Only the final art【Conceal Heaven】remains; the solitary martial sequence two is just one step away.”

Li Jun slowly exhaled a turbid breath, muttering to himself: “Having already toppled one immortal sovereign, I care not to topple another mortal ruler. I only hope that in the end I won’t have to topple a Confucian sovereign as well.”

Or perhaps the reason you’ve waited so long is simply that you’ve been waiting for a knife to hang suspended above your own head, to keep you from straying again.