Chapter 791 - 378: Zhang Fan 2

"The master of South Zhang?!"

Wang Qiankun's gaze was profound, sweeping past Zhang Sheng to Zhang Fan, and his lips curled into a fleeting, inscrutable smile.

"Li Linglong truly birthed a fine son."

He felt a sense of nostalgia; at this moment, casting aside grievances, seeing the child of an old acquaintance elicits a different taste in his mouth, reviving memories of youth.

"You may go!"

With a simple thought, Wang Qiankun's heart returned to clarity; he gestured with indifference.

"Brother, you mustn't..."

Suddenly, a hurried voice came from afar in the night.

In the moonlight, Wang Qian'an appeared anxious, signaling to Wang Qiankun beneath the peach blossom tree.

Should this endeavor fail, letting the Human Xiao and the master of South Zhang go, the Wang Family would have no explanation for the White Crane Temple or the Daoist Alliance.

"Our Wang Family needn't explain to anyone," Wang Qiankun remarked faintly.

He had already reached the Celestial Master Realm, transcending all human attachments; the mortal world held no shackles for him anymore.

"Brother!"

Wang Qian'an gritted his teeth, understanding Wang Qiankun's mindset; the Celestial Master Realm was unlike what ordinary people could imagine.

But he was different; he was still a mortal, needing to consider the Wang Family and future generations.

"Leave!" Wang Qiankun's will was unwavering.

"Senior, until we meet again."

Zhang Sheng whispered softly and turned to leave.

Zhang Fan and Li Yishan followed closely behind.

The three great masters, having obtained the Celestial Master's permission, wished to leave, and no one there could stop them.

As for the six remaining in Luoying Mountain, they had long disappeared without a trace.

No one expected the situation to develop to this point, ending so abruptly.

The seven major figures gathered, and only one perished, and it was at the hands of the Human Xiao himself.

Rosen's life and death were unknown, as the Human Xiao broke through his barrier and left boldly.

"The Wang Family must give an explanation," Han Wenlong said with a grim face.

Rosen, a cultivator trained by White Crane Temple under the Jia Sheng Gui Si technique, was supposed to leverage the Wang Family to destroy the Human Xiao, fully mastering this technique to dismantle the Wuwei Sect.

Yet now, all such plans had collapsed.

"What explanation does the Wang Family owe you?" Wang Qingshan raised his eyebrows, sternly reprimanding.

Han Wenlong, hearing this, clenched his fists, gritting his teeth in silence.

For now, he was on the Wang Family's territory and couldn't act too recklessly; he could only swallow his anger, report this incident upon returning to Shangjing, and then reconsider the matter.

"Hmph!"

Wang Qingshan snorted coldly, saying no more, but his gaze on Han Wenlong was piercingly chilly.

"Zhang Fan!"

Meng Qiwu turned back for another glance at the depths of Luoying Mountain before following the others away.

...

The night grew deeper.

The tranquil deep mountains returned to their usual silence; the Living Dead Tomb left by Chongyang Zhenren once again vanished from mortal sight.

"Brother Qingyi, let's go back."

Wang Qinglian supported the wheelchair, looking down at Wang Qingyi.

She had been with him for a full two hours; dawn was approaching, yet she didn't know what Wang Qingyi was looking at. He simply sat there, lost in thought.

"Qinglian, you should go back," Wang Qingyi said suddenly.

"Hmm!?"

Wang Qinglian was dumbfounded: "Brother Qingyi, what do you mean?"

"I plan to hide away and meditate here, just like Ancestor Master Chongyang," Wang Qingyi said suddenly.

"Here?" Wang Qinglian's face changed drastically.

She naturally understood Wang Qingyi's meaning, not merely living in the Wang Family Mansion, but fully retreating into the deep mountains, living off the land, much like Ancestor Master Chongyang's grave meditation of old.

But Wang Qingyi was not like Ancestor Master Chongyang—his cultivation was wasted, reducing him to an ordinary person; retreating into the deep mountains alone posed survival challenges. ℯℯ𝘭.

"Living dead... living dead... this is a true living dead..."

Wang Qingyi smiled, supporting the wheelchair, and actually trembled as he stood up.

"Brother Qingyi..." Wang Qinglian couldn't help but call out.

"Qinglian, you should go back; we shall meet again in this life, though it might be many years hence," Wang Qingyi said, turning back with a smile.

His smile was incomparably serene and peaceful.

Wang Qinglian looked on, transfixed.

While she stood dazed, Wang Qingyi had already walked into the mountains, disappearing into the immense night.

"There is a peak that suddenly grows, then one knows it's a true mountain."

Wang Qingyi's voice echoed into the vast night, like a dreamt whisper of the mortal world.

"Brother Qingyi..."

Wang Qinglian snapped out of it, frantically rushing out, but the limitless vastness of heaven and earth, the expansive mountains, offered no sign of Wang Qingyi.

"This child Qingyi..."

In the distance, atop a hillside, Wang Qian'an frowned deeply, showing his concern.

"Truly, the Ancestor Master's blessing; the successor shall surely achieve great success."

Suddenly, Wang Qiankun murmured softly, watching the direction Wang Qingyi had left, his eyes betraying a hint of exceptional brilliance.

"Huh?" Wang Qian'an was taken aback and then suspiciously asked, "Brother, you mean..."

"Living dead... living dead... who knows life without knowing death?" Wang Qiankun spoke calmly, "If after twenty years he doesn't emerge from this mountain..."

"The one who will elevate the Chongyang Dharma Lineage will be him!"

As he spoke these words, Wang Qiankun's gaze was brighter than ever.

"To elevate the Chongyang Dharma Lineage? Him?" Wang Qian'an muttered in disbelief.

But Wang Qingyi had already abandoned cultivation!

"Pure Yang... Pure Yang..."

"Everyone has their destined path. This Red Dust is indeed intriguing."

Wang Qiankun chuckled lightly, turned around, and stepped away, disappearing beneath the peach blossom tree, fading into the night.

"You've all found your paths; the Wang Family's troubles are just beginning."

Wang Qiankun clicked his tongue, heavenward speechless.

He knew well enough that once the events of Luoying Mountain spread, who could tell what storms, what troubles would come?

"Damn it!"

A heartfelt curse echoed in the night, resounding through Luoying Mountain, melding into the silent night.

...

Yujing City.

The clock on the living room wall ticked softly, the second hand moving rhythmically.

Soft moonlight poured through the window, spilling onto the balcony.

A graceful silhouette leaned against the wall, her short hair brushing her shoulders, eyes clear and ethereal.

Jiang Lai stood quietly, gazing out the window at the quiet neighborhood, her thoughts drifting far away.

She felt a connection, and old memories rose in her mind.

In that moment, she seemed to return to twenty-four years ago.

Twenty-four years ago, on the ninth of September.

On the banks of Pearl Lake, she sat quietly while an old man applied his brush, a vivid maiden slowly coming to life on paper.

"Miss, almost finished..."

The old artist wrote a date in the corner: Year of Xin Si, ninth of September...

"Done, one hundred..."

Just as he spoke, the old artist abruptly stopped, turning sharply to look in one direction.

There, the sky was painted with crimson clouds, as if flames had risen, coloring half the firmament.

"Daoist Divine Techniques, Samadhi True Flame!?"

The old painter's ancient hands trembled violently, deep suspicion in his eyes, the brush slipping from his grasp.

"You also carry the surname Zhang!?"

Suddenly, a clear, cold voice rang out.

The painter's eyes darkened sharply, and when he turned back, he found only emptiness, no trace of anyone, only the lively short-haired girl immortalized on the canvas.

The corner of the canvas bore the date Xin Si year, ninth of September...

Rumble...

In the distance, the crimson clouds blazed ever brighter.

Upon Pearl Lake, a small boat drifted, swaying with the wind.

In the cabin, a shadow lay across, like the surge of a night tide, spreading across the waters, tainting the endless waves.

The vastness of Pearl Lake mirrored perfectly, except where the boat lay, seeming distorted, obscure and writhing.

"The proper sequence of time has finally begun!!"

Suddenly, a strange voice emerged from the cabin, like a long wind sweeping across miles, echoing over the mirror-like Pearl Lake.