Chapter 89: The Heaven-Earth Net

Shen Zhaoqing stood in the corner of the crowd, as cold as ice. The Illusion-Shattering Demonic Eye, a gift from Yuange, pulsed with an unprecedented chill in her chest, maintaining a near-cruel clarity amidst the chaos.

Her gaze fell upon Bai Zhileng. The Holy Maiden of Penglai’s face, at just the right moment, revealed a perfectly measured expression of pity and profound sorrow. She subtly lowered her eyelids, her long lashes casting shadows beneath her eyes, as if she could no longer bear to witness such human suffering.

‘Keep acting, then.’

Shen Zhaoqing sneered inwardly.

“Please calm yourselves!” Bai Zhileng raised a hand, quelling the commotion within the hall.

“Ancient texts record this plague as incurable, but that doesn’t mean we are doomed to await our demise.” She surveyed the assembly, her gaze firm and resolute. “The medical heritage of Penglai Immortal Palace, passed down from antiquity, may hold methods of suppression. However… the source of this plague remains unknown, and the miasma is formless and intangible. Even I require time for deduction and investigation.”

“Our immediate priority is to control the spread of this plague!”

Her words were well-reasoned and coherent, offering a glimmer of hope while clearly articulating the current predicament.

“Report—!” A rush of hurried footsteps echoed from outside the hall, more urgent than before.

A disciple, responsible for communications, stumbled in, his voice hoarse as a broken gong. “Reporting, reporting to the esteemed elders! The latest news… Senior Brother Zhou of Qingfeng Courtyard… he, he has also collapsed!”

“What?!”

“Zhou Xuanlang?!”

If the previous collapses, confined to outer sect disciples, had allowed some to cling to a sliver of hope, then the name ‘Zhou Xuanlang’ struck with chilling precision at the heart of every inner sect disciple.

Zhou Xuanlang, a luminary among inner sect disciples, cultivated at the mid-stage Golden Core Realm. His mastery of the Blazing Fire Sword Art was nothing short of divine, making him a recognized candidate for the next generation of elders within the sect.

Even a Golden Core cultivator was not immune?

Who would be next?

‘Will it be me?’

Boundless terror engulfed everyone.

The Calm Heart Hall once again plunged into a deathly silence. This time, even the weeping and shouting had ceased, leaving only heavy, suppressed breaths.

Shen Zhaoqing’s heart sank to rock bottom.

She knew Zhou Xuanlang, that cheerful and warm-hearted senior brother who, just days ago, had been guiding outer sect disciples in swordplay on the training grounds.

Now, he, too, had become an empty shell.

“Alas…” A whisper of a sigh echoed through the cavernous, silent hall.

No, it wasn’t a sigh. It was the ringing of a sword.

Clear, lofty, and imbued with bone-chilling cold, it seemed to descend from the nine heavens, yet also to rise from the depths of every heart.

Suddenly, everyone looked up, following the sound.

At the entrance of Calm Heart Hall, a snow-white figure stood gracefully, its appearance unnoticed until this very moment.

The figure was tall and slender, clad in the Qingyun Sect’s simplest snow-patterned sword robe. Their dark hair was swept up into a high bun, secured by a plain jade hairpin, revealing a smooth, full forehead and sharp, sword-like brows.

Their complexion was paler than usual, utterly devoid of color, and their clear, almond-shaped eyes carried a hint of undeniable fatigue from unhealed injuries. Yet, as their gaze swept across the hall, the innate sharpness, lofty bearing, and formidable presence remained undiminished.

Behind them, the world-renowned Frostbright Sword was sheathed.

The sword remained in its scabbard, yet its intent already pierced the heavens.

“Senior Sister!”

“Gu Chang’an!”

“It’s Gu Chang’an!”

As if travelers, having journeyed for centuries through darkness, finally glimpsed a ray of light, every Qingyun Sect disciple in the hall erupted with wild joy and reverence the moment they saw that figure.

She was their unwavering pillar, the unshakeable faith of Qingyun Sect’s younger generation, and the Three Pure Dao Alliance’s foremost Sword Immortal in ten thousand years!

As long as she stood here, the sky above Qingyun Sect would never truly collapse.

Shen Zhaoqing gazed at the familiar figure at the entrance, her heart a tangled mess of complex emotions.

‘This person…’

‘They’re clearly on the verge of collapsing from their own injuries, yet they still rush out to play the hero.’

But for some unknown reason, looking at that slender figure, standing as straight as a sword drawn from its sheath, Shen Zhaoqing felt her long-held anxiety truly… settle a little.

“Don’t worry, the medicine has been acquired.” Gu Chang’an reassured the crowd, then her gaze swept over everyone, settling on Shen Zhaoqing at the edge of the assembly.

It was the familiar look of scrutiny and undeniable possessiveness, but deep within, it also held unacknowledged fear and relief.

‘She’s alright.’

With just a glance, Gu Chang’an withdrew her gaze. She turned to face the sky outside the hall, which was shrouded in gloom, her voice as clear and cold as ice.

“My command: All disciples are to retreat within the mountain gate’s grand array. No one is to venture outside.”

“The sect’s protective squad is to immediately proceed to all vital passes down the mountain, sealing all paths leading up. Reassure the mortals and await the sect’s command.”

“Medicine Hall, spare no effort in treating the injured. First, stabilize their vital energies.”

The Calm Heart Hall, which had been in disarray moments before, swiftly returned to order under her few words. The disciples, as if finding their backbone, immediately accepted their orders, each attending to their duties and springing into action.

Even the venerable elders, at this moment, displayed absolute trust in this young chief disciple.

This was Gu Chang’an.

In Qingyun Sect, her sword was law.

Gu Chang’an lightly tapped her toe, rising silently into the air and hovering. In her hand, a white porcelain bottle shattered from the force of sword qi, its contents mixing with spiritual energy and the sword qi.

“Clang—” A dragon-like sword cry rang out as the Frostbright Sword on her back automatically unsheathed.

What an extraordinary sword it was!

The blade was like a clear autumn stream, reflecting the light of the heavens yet emanating a chilling cold. As sword qi surged and receded, the surrounding air seemed to freeze, forming tiny ice crystals that rustled down.

Gu Chang’an extended her pale right hand and grasped the hilt of the Frostbright Sword in mid-air.

In that instant, a vast, majestic, and utterly pure sword intent surged forth from her seemingly delicate body.

That sword intent was so pure, so magnificent, as if it condensed all the righteous energy between heaven and earth. It swept forth, and wherever it passed, the miasma that had lingered above Qingyun Mountain actually hissed like snow under a blazing sun, being rapidly purified and dissolved.

The restless crowds at the foot of the mountain, agitated by panic, were bathed in this sword intent. They felt their minds clear, and all their fear and unease were swept away.

“It’s an Immortal Master! An Immortal Master from Qingyun Sect has acted!”

“We are saved!”

Innumerable mortals and low-level cultivators prostrated themselves, tearfully kowtowing towards the peak of Qingyun Mountain.

In mid-air, Gu Chang’an’s expression remained unchanged. Her white robes and dark hair danced wildly in the fierce wind, like a goddess descended from the nine heavens.

She slowly raised the Frostbright Sword in her hand, its tip pointed directly at the sky.

“The Supreme Forgetfulness Sword Art…”

She parted her lips.

“…Heaven-Earth Net!”

The moment her words fell, the Frostbright Sword in her hand erupted with ten thousand rays of light.

Streaks of sword qi, condensed to their absolute peak of righteousness, shot forth from the Frostbright Sword, soaring into the clouds. Then, high above the nine heavens, they intertwined, crisscrossed, and connected.

Shen Zhaoqing looked up, staring blankly at the sky.

She saw an unimaginably vast golden net, composed of countless pure white sword qi strands, slowly forming above Qingzhou.

That net was so intricate, so magnificent. Every single thread was forged from the purest, most righteous sword intent, shimmering with golden light.

It covered the entire sky of Qingzhou, from the eastern coast to the western mountains, enveloping the whole region beneath this divine, colossal net.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the sword net, scattering into billions of golden specks, like a grand and gentle rain of golden light descending upon the human world.

Bathed in this light rain, the formless miasma clinging to mountains, rivers, towns, and vegetation was purified and severed inch by inch, unable to spread any further.

The entire Qingzhou seemed to have been thoroughly cleansed by this miraculous sword strike.

“!!!”

‘So this is the true Supreme Forgetfulness Sword Art.’

‘So this is the true first Sword Immortal of Qingyun Sect.’

‘So Senior Sister Gu is this powerful?’