The Cultivators from Qingyuan Yun Manor had just left when a streak of sword light landed in front of Flowing Cloud Temple.
Moyuan tensed up and hurried forward to greet it. He said, “You’re back so soon, sir…”
Chen Changsheng nodded. “Matters at Yuan Mountain didn’t take too long. Coming back early is quieter.”
“By the way, did soone just visit?”
Hearing this, Moyuan promptly explained what had happened.
“It was like this…”
He truthfully recounted everything about Chenghuang and the Qingyuan Immortal Manor affair, including how he had robbed treasures and extorted rit.
After listening, Chen Changsheng couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re practically like a bandit.”
Moyuan grinned. “After all, this is your sacred place, sir. I thought killing them wouldn’t be good, and since nothing much really happened, I just squeezed so rit out of them and let them go.”
Chen Changsheng glanced at him. “I suspect you wanted more than just that little bit of rit.”
“I can’t hide anything from you, sir.” Moyuan chuckled.
Chen Changsheng mused to himself that Moyuan was truly unique. He didn’t lack rit, nor did he lack magical artifacts, yet he was oddly fixated on stealing from others.
Chen Changsheng said, “As you wish, just don’t cause too much trouble.”
Relieved by Chen Changsheng’s answer, Moyuan assured him firmly, “Don’t worry, sir. Moyuan will absolutely not take things too far.”
Chen Changsheng gave a slight nod, then shifted his gaze to Chenghuang, who was standing by with his head bowed.
Chenghuang trembled. He dared not et this gentleman’s eyes, rely cupping his hands in greeting. “Chenghuang greets Mr. Chen. The wandering spirits within the banner have already entered reincarnation.”
Chen Changsheng looked at him. Truly, this Chenghuang had led a turbulent life—captured several tis, escaping multiple tis, surviving through constant hiding.
After a mont’s thought, Chen Changsheng spoke. “Since your lifespan is nearing its end, simply cultivate here in peace.”
Chenghuang froze, montarily stunned.
Moyuan nudged him. “Hurry up and thank Mr. Chen.”
By the ti Chenghuang snapped out of it, Chen Changsheng had already turned and walked toward the backyard.
Chenghuang dropped to his knees and called out loudly, “Chenghuang thanks Mr. Chen for your kindness in taking in!”
“From this day forth, I shall transform into a beast upon the drooping ridge!”
“To ward off evil spirits, protect this temple, and safeguard the peace of Flowing Cloud Temple!”
Chen Changsheng paused in his step at these words. He offered only a faint, indifferent smile before continuing into the backyard.
Moyuan watched Chenghuang kneeling on the ground.
He had actually guessed that Mr. Chen would take Chenghuang in.
‘Our Mr. Chen… he can’t bear to see suffering like this.’
Moyuan sighed inwardly. But as he approached Chenghuang, he saw the creature’s eyes reddening, tears streaming down his cheeks to splash onto the floor.
Moyuan was taken aback. “What are you crying for?”
Chenghuang shook his head, not explaining. Tears as big as beans poured down his face.
Only he could truly understand what a gift this sanctuary was.
Moyuan felt a pang in his own heart.
Chenghuang was no naive little monster anymore. He had endured centuries, millennia of pursuit. He had raged against the Heavenly Dao’s unfairness, lanted his suffering, yet never once shed tears.
Now, finally, he had a refuge—a place where he needn’t fear relentless hunters, a place that ant he could stop running and hiding.
The accumulated anguish of countless years surged all at once, transforming into a torrent of weeping that gushed out.
With red-rimd eyes, he choked out, “Does this an… I don’t have to run anymore…?”
Moyuan opened his mouth, then closed it, ripples of emotion stirring within him.
He couldn’t help but feel a deep sorrow too. He was also a monster who had known suffering—four transformations, multiple brushes with death across his cultivation path—so he understood that pain intimately.
After a long silence, Moyuan finally spoke.
“Call big brother.”
“And from now on…”
“Stick with .”
“Don’t cry anymore either. It’s embarrassing.”
.
.
Qingyuan stood south of the Desolate Sea. This was a city of Immortals, much like mortal cities, perched upon an island wrapped in mist and clouds.
Within a valley outside the city walls stood several clustered estates, resembling the dwelling of an Immortal sect or clan.
This was Yun Manor, an Immortal cultivation family hidden within the Immortal Realm.
After learning the details of recent events, Yun Ze, the current head of Yun Manor, pondered carefully.
“The Black Dragon…”
Yun Ze frowned thoughtfully. “It must be the one from Bibo Lake. I thought it perished in the Heavenly Tribulation.”
“If it’s a True Dragon, there’s no way you could have defeated it.”
“But since it only recently faced its tribulation, it hasn’t fully matured yet. Sending Yun Li should be more than sufficient.”
Yun Cang nodded respectfully. “Understood, Clan Leader.”
“Good. Focus on recovering from your injuries. Also, notify Yun Li imdiately. Tell him to make the trip.”
For Yun Manor, the old Dragon from Tongtian River was sothing to be wary of. But the Black Dragon from Bibo Lake was a newly ascended Tribulation survivor. Sending a few of their retained Guardians would suffice.
Now that their Ancestral Elder was nearing the end of his lifespan, capturing that Chenghuang might grant him a few more years.
.
.
After arriving at Flowing Cloud Temple, Chenghuang imrsed himself in peaceful cultivation.
True to his vow, he transford into a beast perched upon the rooftop ridge of the main hall, becoming a guardian entity over the temple.
It wasn’t much, perhaps, but it was the one thing he could offer now.
In the following days, Chenghuang experienced an unprecedented sense of ease and safety. All his worries fell away. Even the singing insects in the mountain streams filled him with simple joy.
Since returning to the temple, Chen Changsheng had mostly sat in the backyard pavilion, seemingly deep in thought.
Moyuan didn’t dare disturb him and stayed in the front courtyard.
But once Mr. Chen entered the backyard, he never reappeared, giving the impression he might be entering secluded cultivation.
“So boring…”
Feeling restless, Moyuan finally called out to Chenghuang perched on the main hall’s roof. “Hey, how about big brother takes you out for so fun?”
Chenghuang replied hesitantly, “I shouldn’t go…”
“Nonsense! You should go! Co on, co on! Let show you the big wide world out there!”
Chenghuang was reluctant at first, but in the end, Moyuan practically dragged him out.
The temple was now solely occupied by Chen Changsheng.
At this mont, Chen Changsheng sat in the backyard pavilion. Though he held a book, his mind was elsewhere, completely lost in thought.
He had been sitting like this for days.
The question of his own identity—whether he was still truly himself—remained unresolved, an unfathomable puzzle.
“Ai…”
With a soft sigh, Chen Changsheng slowly surfaced from his thoughts.
He glanced around. The temple’s complete silence suggested Moyuan and Chenghuang had indeed gone out.
Chen Changsheng stretched out his hand and made a beckoning gesture.
The Yuqing Sword, concealed beside him, flew into his palm.
At the base of the sword’s hilt, a pure green jade sphere materialised before his eyes.
“If you truly share the sa origin as Tianji Mountain’s Fate Stone… then does that an you also carry fragnts of mory within you?”
After pondering this for a mont, Chen Changsheng closed his eyes. His divine sense gently entered the green jade sphere.
In the next instant, Chen Changsheng saw a figure standing before him.
A woman stood there, holding a jade sword. Her smile was like a spring breeze. Two strands of dark hair frad her face. Her eyes held the depth and sorrow of countless ages.
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