Chapter 451: Chapter 451

Far away, in the howling darkness of the blizzard, Li Yuan now stood alone.

His expression was unreadable. His white hair whipped wildly in the wind, like snow made flesh.

Black crows circled him in the air, their cries piercing the storm.

Li Yuan spoke to one of them calmly.

“Sheng'er… from today on, things will be hard for you.”

“You’re to guard the Deathless Tomb. Trust no one. Let no one enter. Not even your brother, Naran.”

Meng Xingxian’s two-headed direwolves may be many, but they’re massive. They can only enter one at a time.

But you and your crows, you can fly in a swarm. Inside the tomb, you are untouchable.”

A crow chirped excitedly, “Okay, Papa!”

Li Yuan nodded. “That old man inside, the one trying to teach you the Heaven Soul cultivation technique… Listen to him. Learn everything he says. Then come back and tell me every word. I’ll try it out first.”

“I understand,” another crow chirped as it hopped lightly onto Li Yuan’s left shoulder, obedient and sweet. Then, tilting its head with curiosity, it asked, “But Papa…is that girl, the one named Meng Xingxian, really safe?”

Li Yuan replied without hesitation, “No.”

“Huh? Then why are you treating her so kindly?” Sheng'er sounded thoroughly confused.

“Because I have my reasons. And besides…it’s not impossible that one day, Meng Xingxian will truly become part of our family.”

“Oh,” Sheng'er murmured, falling quiet.

“Ping’an’s still sneaking off all the time lately, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Daddy! But my crows can’t follow him. He notices them right away and shakes them off.”

The little crow sounded genuinely distressed.

“I tried asking where he goes, but he just told me not to meddle.”

Li Yuan nodded thoughtfully.

A quiet rhythm had settled into their lives.

Naran and Meng Xingxian had returned to the Trueflame Tribe, while Li Yuan and the other elders remained behind in the White Deer Tribe.

On this particular day, Ping’an slipped back into camp, clearly up to something.

As luck would have it, he just happened to catch sight of Li Yuan sitting in the dining hall with Jing Shuixiang, Snow, and Yao Jue, all gathered around the table making dumplings.

Ping’an crept forward like a thief, trying to sneak by unnoticed.

He made it halfway before—

“Ping’an.” Li Yuan’s voice called out casually.

Ping’an stiffened, then immediately walked over with a grin.

“Hey, old man, I’m impressed, you’ve got time to make dumplings today?”

Li Yuan laughed, “You little brat. Always out running around.”

Ping’an scowled. “Hey now, that’s not fair! I’ve been training, you know? Practicing diligently.”

“Oh?” Li Yuan picked up a rolling pin and gave it a casual twirl. His eyes flicked toward the sword at Ping’an’s waist.

“How about a little sparring match, then?”

Ping’an waved him off instantly. “No, no, no. I’ve been training so hard I’m sore all over. Let’s skip the fight. Anyway, when the food’s ready, give me a shout, yeah? And Fourth Mom, don’t let my wives off so easily. Put them to work in the kitchen too! Stop spoiling them!”

With that, he turned and bolted before anyone could stop him.

Li Yuan’s gaze lingered on his retreating figure.

Beside him, Jing Shuixiang murmured, “There’s something off about Ping’an lately.” Newest update provıded by 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵•𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮•𝓷𝓮𝓽

Yao Jue offered, “Should I go talk to him?”

Li Yuan shook his head. “No need. He’s not a child anymore. He can make his own choices. Besides, every family has its secrets. Not everything needs to be dragged into the light.”

His eyes grew thoughtful. In that moment, it felt as if unseen undercurrents were surging from far beyond his grasp, weaving intricate patterns of gray within his gaze, deep, shadowy, and impossible to read. Then the darkness melted away into a small, knowing smile.

In the days that followed, Li Yuan didn’t do anything drastic.

He simply watched the shifting winds, the subtle movements, and the quiet signs.

Most of his time now was spent at the Xie residence, less so in the Western Extremes, and barely any in Gemhill County.

The nine provincial governors of the Great Zhou continued their campaign, one siege after another, slowly tightening their encirclement around the Jade Capital.

Every day, Li Yuan overheard Xie Wei talking about military updates, political analysis, and battle reports.

When the time came, he, disguised as the Son of Heaven, would be expected to lead the charge and reclaim the Jade Capital himself. But of course…that part didn’t really require him.

So Li Yuan had no intention of stepping in.

Instead, his thoughts kept returning to what Sheng'er had relayed, the so-called Heaven Soul cultivation technique.

And now, he began to truly consider it.

“To rise from fourth rank to third, the first minor threshold is called: Yin Reborn in Fire, Flesh Remade Anew.

“But to reach this third rank isn’t like cultivating shadow blood, where one must advance step by step through painstaking effort. No, this path simply requires one's soul to be steeped in sufficient Yin energy.

“If this technique is described correctly…then beings like Sheng'er—those born unnaturally pure, as natural jade husks—are essentially already standing at the very gates of the third rank from the moment they draw breath.

“As for the rest of us…ordinary people like me…we’d need to cultivate Yin within the soul through secret ARTS. Only then might we meet the threshold. And I imagine…that will be exceedingly difficult.

“Still, when you break down shadow blood cultivation, at its core, it’s just Yin and Yang. My Yang…is the Yang flame. My Yin…is the ancestral seal. And that sliver of Yin gifted to me by Yan Yu, it’s already been forged into my Heavenly Eye.”

With a thought, an ink-brushed eye floated up around Li Yuan’s body, orbiting gently before vanishing beneath his skin once more.

“So then…it comes down to the Yang flame and ancestral seal.”

Two images flashed across his mind.

First was the nine bonfires of the Nine Flames Tribe, each burning brighter, their color shifting from deep crimson to a strange, pale ash.

Second was the Bladeseekers outside Gemhill County.

Time had changed things.

Gemhill County was now riddled with the influence of the Court of Judges, infiltrated like a sieve.

Ordinarily, they wouldn’t stand a chance against the might of the Lotus Cult. But now? With the Nine Province Alliance besieging the Lotus Cult stronghold, the cult could barely hold itself together, scrambling to protect the Jade Capital. They had no strength to spare for places like Gemhill County.

And in chaotic waters…it was time to fish.

Li Yuan made up his mind.

It was time to pay the Bladeseekers a visit. Time to re-establish the connections. Once the original Bladeseekers was absorbed under his control, he could try again, rebuild the failed New Bladeseekers back in Cloudpeak Province.

Outside, Immortals were clashing. Currents of power were shifting faster than ever.

And Li Yuan? He needed to keep growing stronger, fast.

Clack! As the door of the Xie residence’s secret chamber closed, the Son of Heaven went into seclusion once more.

Inside, his form shimmered faintly before vanishing altogether, reappearing in front of the Ghost Prison, now looking even more sinister than before.

Something had changed.

Suspended cages hung in midair, each containing a living human. Before each prisoner was a mirror, flickering with scenes that played again and again like a looped illusion.

The prisoners screamed, writhing in agony, mumbling and shouting things like, “I was wrong! I was wrong!”

Li Yuan observed in silence, then felt a strange tug in his heart. He turned his head to glance toward a mountain behind him.

There, rising faintly into the air, was the smoke of incense.

Someone…was holding a ceremony.

Curiosity piqued, Li Yuan shrugged inwardly. He had time to spare. With a flicker of his form, he vanished and darted toward the source, concealing himself with an illusion technique.

He arrived at a crumbling temple.

The original statue had long since disappeared, replaced now by a painting.

In the painting stood a regal woman in a flowing black gown, her hair pinned with an ancient ornament, her long dress trailing like mist. Around her, a horde of ghosts bowed low in submission.

Dozens of people knelt in front of the image, burning incense with reverence.

They whispered prayers under their breath, repeating in unison, “Bless us, Underworld Judge… Yan Yu, grant us your protection.”