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Join the ServerThe tremor of that eyelash was as faint as a butterfly’s wing brushing a spiderweb, silent and imperceptible. Yet, in that very instant, the air throughout the entire medicinal bath chamber solidified.
It was as if an invisible, colossal hand had descended from the heavens, abruptly pressing down, pinning every moving particle, every ray of light, and every sound within this confined space firmly in place.
Bai Zhileng, who just a second ago had been locked in a tense, clashing aura with Mu Qingli, suddenly stiffened.
She felt as though she had been instantaneously sealed within a block of ten-thousand-year-old profound ice. From her divine soul to her physical body, every infinitesimal thought was frozen by an irresistible, star-sea-vast pressure.
‘It’s Master!’
‘And not just a divine sense descending!’
‘It’s her true form, here in person!’
“Creak—” A soft sound, yet in this maddeningly silent environment, it was exceptionally grating.
The grand door of the medicinal bath chamber, carved from a single piece of warm jade, swung open without a breeze. Two figures, one preceding the other, slowly stepped inside.
Leading the way was a woman clad in white-gold medicinal robes. Her long, silver-blue hair cascaded like a moonlight waterfall to her waist.
Her features were refined and elegant, her skin luminous, as if she were not of flesh and blood, but sculpted from the purest spiritual herbs and morning dew found between heaven and earth. She walked slowly, each step seemingly resonating with the earth’s spiritual veins of Penglai Immortal Palace.
Despite emitting no spiritual energy, she gave the illusion that the heavens and earth themselves were merely the hem of her robes.
She was Holy Master Yaoguang.
A being whose mere name was enough to suffocate the entire cultivation world of Leihai.
Behind her, half a step back, stood a woman with a cold, stern face, dressed in silver-white combat attire. This was Han Shuang, the leader of the medicinal guards.
Han Shuang’s gaze, like two ice blades tempered with chilling venom, immediately fixed upon Bai Zhileng the moment she entered. Her eyes held unconcealed disdain, schadenfreude, and a triumphant ‘I told you so’ air.
Her gentle, placid gaze slowly swept across the chaotic battlefield.
She saw the overturned jade stands, the scattered rare medicinal ingredients, the corroded pits in the walls, and the glaring crack in the floor.
Her expression remained utterly unperturbed, as if she were not witnessing losses worth cities of treasure.
Then, her gaze fell upon the green-haired girl clutching a shovel, her face brimming with vigilance. It paused for a moment, as if analyzing the composition of this particular species.
Finally, her eyes settled upon her personal disciple, Bai Zhileng.
She also noted Bai Zhileng’s subconscious protective stance, and the human-shaped object haphazardly wrapped in vines behind her.
Holy Master Yaoguang halted, observing Bai Zhileng in silence.
Yet, the pressure in the entire space abruptly intensified tenfold at that moment!
Cold sweat instantly beaded on Bai Zhileng’s forehead. Under such divine scrutiny, she felt her Dao heart tremble, rendering all her potential explanations pale and futile.
“Mas… Master…” she managed to utter, her voice hoarse.
However, before she could finish speaking, a clear and brazen voice shattered the suffocating silence.
“Hey! You two!”
Mu Qingli wrinkled her small nose, pointing her large iron shovel at Holy Master Yaoguang and Han Shuang with an indignant expression.
“Trespassing is against the law! Didn’t you see the ‘My Garden, Keep Out’ sign at the entrance? Get out, quickly!”
Bai Zhileng: “…”
Han Shuang: “…”
Even Holy Master Yaoguang, a venerable ancient who had lived for nearly ten thousand years with a heart as still as water, displayed a rare flicker of astonishment in her ever-serene eyes upon hearing such blasphemous words.
‘My… garden?’
She cast a downward glance at the cold jade floor tiles beneath her feet, nurtured for millennia by the core earthfire spiritual vein of Penglai Immortal Palace. Then, she looked up at the vaulted ceiling, formed by ancient Spirit-Gathering Immortal Runes.
She almost suspected that she had been in seclusion for too long, and the deed to Penglai Immortal Palace had quietly changed hands.
“Presumptuous!”
Han Shuang was the first to react, shouting sharply, “Where did this wild brat come from, daring to speak such insolence before the Holy Master! I fear you are tired of living!”
Before her words fully faded, she moved to seize Mu Qingli.
“Wait,” Holy Master Yaoguang stated calmly.
Han Shuang’s movement abruptly ceased, and she respectfully retreated to her original position, though her gaze upon Mu Qingli was now akin to looking at a dead person.
Holy Master Yaoguang’s gaze returned to Mu Qingli, this time carrying a hint of scrutiny, as if admiring an intriguing collectible.
“You are quite interesting,” she said, her crimson lips parting, her voice ethereal as heavenly music. “Tell me, who are you, and why are you here? If your explanation is satisfactory, this Seat may spare your life.”
She spoke these words with an air of detached ease, yet they carried an inherent arrogance, viewing all living beings as mere ants.
Upon hearing this, Mu Qingli tilted her small head, her emerald cat-like eyes filled with disdain.
“You’re a strange one, aren’t you? Coming into my territory and asking me who I am?”
She spoke, and as if that wasn’t enough, she waved her small hand.
Swish!
Dozen of supple vines instantly erupted from the ground, snatching Shen Zhaoqing, still in the bathtub, person and water alike, with lightning speed. Then, these vines swiftly and thoroughly wrapped Shen Zhaoqing from head to toe, leaving only her head exposed, making her resemble a freshly made green mummy.
Having completed this, Mu Qingli, as if protecting a treasure, dragged this “vine zongzi” behind her. Then, she shouted at Holy Master Yaoguang, “Listen up! This flowerpot is under my protection! This land is my territory!”
Most importantly—”
She extended her small hand, giving Shen Zhaoqing’s forehead a resounding pat, which produced a sharp “bang” sound.
“This is my dirt! No one is allowed to touch it!”
At these words, complete silence fell.
The air itself seemed to halt in awkward stillness.
Bai Zhileng despairingly closed her eyes, feeling that her sectarian career might very well conclude today, in the most absurd manner imaginable.
Han Shuang’s lips twitched uncontrollably. She had killed countless people and seen at least eight hundred, if not a thousand, lunatics, but none had been so refreshingly unconventional, so self-righteously insane, as this one.
“Dirt?”
She actually called the ‘Dao Source Body’, which her Master revered as a supreme divine medicine… dirt?
What blasphemy! What ignorance!
“Pfft.” A very soft laugh escaped Holy Master Yaoguang’s lips.
She laughed.
“Dirt?” she repeated the word, slowly raising one hand. It was fair and slender, perfect like a work of art.
“Very well.”
The smile on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a divine indifference, devoid of joy or sorrow.
“Since you are so fond of dirt, this Seat shall allow you to merge with the very soil of Penglai, never to be separated.”
The moment her words fell—
Boom!!!
A terrifying, indescribable pressure erupted from Holy Master Yaoguang, becoming the epicenter. The domain of a Void Return Realm expert unfurled without reservation.
You’ve got to see this next! The Only Ice Flower will keep you on the edge of your seat. Start reading today!
Read : The Only Ice Flower
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