Chapter 71: A Family Steeped in Filial Piety and Brotherly Devotion

“……”

Jinxia was stunned by these words. It took a long while for him to return to himself, and heartfelt admiration shone on his face.

“Dao Lord, the way you just spoke, you sounded like some ruffian boss from the marketplace.”

He earnestly gave a thumbs-up. “It made my blood boil—I nearly wanted to grab a stick and join you in shaking down the streets for alms.”

“But still…”

Jinxia cast a sidelong glance toward the hall, at the image of Chen Heng, projected from afar by the Dao Lord’s power. He shrugged and said,

“What’s so auspicious about betting on that man? No matter how I look at him, I can’t see what’s so special. Never mind the inner circle’s Wei Lingjiang and Wang Shen—even that oddball Sima Fang is far superior to this Chen Heng, wouldn’t you say? Could it be, Elder, you’re considering forging ties with him in advance just because of his family and bloodline? Let’s not speak of his grandfather—I know you and that Divine King have your differences.”

Jinxia squatted down with a swagger, snatched a fist-sized immortal apricot from a jade platter, and bit into it, juice spraying everywhere as he spoke with his mouth full:

“I remember his father, Chen Yushu, was the champion of the ‘Dan Yuan Conclave’ three terms ago, wasn’t he? What did they say? Ah, I recall—‘the greatest prodigy of the last eight centuries, most likely to achieve the Unity of Dao!’ Is it that his father is about to become a Dao Lord, and you want to make sure he owes you a favor?”

“Nonsense! That Chen Yushu—what does he amount to?”

“In the past, he even dared to scheme against our Chiming Sect! Several of our female disciples nearly fell for his tricks, and those were all our sect’s true inheritors! I showed restraint by not going to Nanchan Prefecture to crush him myself, all for the sake of our fellow Daoist Xuanming Wuxian!”

Taiwen Miaocheng, the Dao Lord, glared, annoyed. “And you say he’s fit to be a Dao Lord in eight centuries? With his sorry state?”

“That man only achieved what he did by forcibly stealing the fates of two Dao Lord candidates. So what? What’s taken by force never truly belongs to you. He may have become a Pure Yang True Lord and survived the Wind and Fire Tribulations, but as for the final Pure Yang Thunder Calamity, it’s choking him to death! Eight centuries to the Unity of Dao? Even in three or eight thousand years, he’ll be lucky to make it!”

At this point, even Taiwen Miaocheng, the Dao Lord, couldn’t help but shake his head.

However much he disdained Chen Yushu, he had to admit that the man was not only ruthless but also astoundingly gifted. Given time, within the Dao Lords’ ranks in the Palace of Primal Origin and Celestial Markers, he would surely claim a seat.

Back then, Chen Yushu’s dramatic defection from the Doushu Sect was because he used a demonic art to seize the fate of two Dao Lord candidates, torturing them to death so that their destinies would become his own.

Once this came to light, even his master, Dao Lord Shenwu Shuhua, could no longer turn a blind eye. If not for a few Dao Lords from the Innate Demon Sect intervening early, Chen Yushu would have died at the Doushu Sect’s gates.

His defection brought the Demon Sect and the Doushu Sect into open conflict, dragging along all eight sects, six schools, and twelve great clans into the fray. For a time, everyone trembled in fear. Many True Lords and True Immortals fled the realm, moving their lineages to other continents, terrified that the clash would escalate and shatter the heavens once again—another “Zhonglang Cataclysm” repeated.

Afterwards, thanks to mediation by several ancient immortals, no one quite knew what price the Demon Sect paid to quell the Doushu Sect’s wrath.

But from that point on, Chen Yushu’s name was known throughout the realms.

He had always been known for his roguish charm and romantic exploits; even among the eight sects, six schools, and twelve clans, he left behind countless lovers. It was jaw-dropping—many wished to enter his tutelage and learn his secrets.

After usurping destiny and betraying his sect, he became known for his ruthless and sinister nature—a reputation that sent chills down spines.

…

“True, Chen Yushu, for stealing the fate of others, has drawn the heavens’ ire. The Pure Yang Thunder Calamity will be even harsher for him; achieving the Unity of Dao in eight centuries seems unlikely.”

Jinxia yawned. “Elder, if you wish to befriend the future Dao Lord, there’s plenty of time; no need to act now.”

“Fool! Were you locked away in the Glassless Heaven so long that you lost your wits? Even if I wanted to curry favor with that Chen Yushu, why would I bother with his son, Chen Heng?”

Taiwen Miaocheng, the Dao Lord, shook his head, pointing to Chen Heng. “Chen Yushu, unable to pass the Pure Yang Thunder Calamity, managed to obtain a certain arcane art, siring countless offspring through incarnations, hoping his bloodline could absorb his disasters for him! By aiding Chen Heng, I’m actually crossing Chen Yushu—do you understand?”

“What? That dramatic?”

Jinxia, who had been absent-minded, suddenly perked up, eyes bright with excitement.

“Damn! How many spectacular dramas have I missed while imprisoned in the Glassless Heaven? This is wonderful!”

“But, thinking about it…” Jinxia grinned slyly. “Isn’t that Chen family a paragon of filial piety and fatherly affection?”

Let me see—Chen Yushu’s father, now reigning as the ‘Crimson Essence Pottery and Myriad Blessings Divine King’ in Xu Huang Heaven, utterly despises Chen Yushu. It was that very Divine King who drove Chen Yushu out of Xu Huang Heaven and into Xu Du Heaven. If not for the Doushu Sect’s mercy, even his soul would have been erased.

Now, Chen Yushu practices arcane arts, wanting his sons to bear his calamities—how could those sons possibly accept that? Hahahaha!”

At this, Jinxia could not contain himself, tossing his head in delight, his red hair whirling wildly.

Even Taiwen Miaocheng, lying on the cloud couch, couldn’t help but smile.

“But this son of Chen Yushu’s is nothing like him, is he?”

After laughing his fill, Jinxia regarded the silent tableau between Chen Heng and Wei Lingjiang in the hall, sighing with emotion.

“Chen Yushu always wears a smile, exuding a gentle, cultured air—his words are pleasing, his sweet talk seems endless. This Chen Heng, on the other hand, is cold both in face and heart, unmoved even with such beauty as Wei before him. He resembles those madmen of the Zhongyi Sword Sect—his temperament is entirely different from his father’s!”

“If he truly were like Chen Yushu, even if the ‘Two Principles Fate Compass’ marked him as the destined one, I’d never let him near a disciple of the Chiming Sect; I’d have slapped him dead long ago.”

Taiwen Miaocheng, the Dao Lord, spoke coolly. “Even if you add another Chen Yushu to today’s balance of the Celestial and Demonic factions, the Celestial side would still prevail. But in any case, the Demonic path must never birth another Dao Lord. If that happens, conflict will erupt, lands destroyed and stars fallen, repeating the ‘Zhonglang Cataclysm’ once more!”

A rare solemnity flickered in his gaze.

Chen Yushu’s path to ascension was paved atop the corpses of countless female cultivators.

Even before he left the Doushu Sect, his reputation was already tainted; even daughters of noble families suffered, their cultivation cut short because of him.

And the matter of seizing destinies—more chilling still.

The two women whose fates he stole were both disciples of Dao Lord Shenwu Shuhua, and Chen Yushu’s own junior sisters.

---

Even so, for the sake of ascension, Chen Yushu did not hesitate to brutalize his own childhood companions to death.

Especially since that forbidden art required the victim’s willing cooperation and clarity of spirit—the offering of destiny had to be voluntary, unclouded by spellwork.

Which only proved how deeply those two junior sisters felt for Chen Yushu.

To willingly give him their very lives—something even many lifelong Dao companions could never manage.

And Chen Yushu accepted it gladly, even erasing their souls to avoid discovery, leaving them no hope of rebirth.

Such a nature—truly cruel and cold-blooded, born for betrayal.

If not for the Demon Sect’s thousand-year momentum carrying him forward, several Dao Lords of the Celestial side would have risked shattering a continent to send him back to the cycle of reincarnation.

Once, the Nine Provinces and Four Seas allowed a Chen Yushu to ascend—that was already the Celestial factions’ greatest oversight. Should another like him rise, who knows how the balance of Xu Du Heaven might be thrown into chaos…

As Taiwen Miaocheng pondered, Jinxia, hearing all this, was left stupefied and incredulous.

“Dao Lord, you said he’s just one of the ‘destined ones’ marked by the Two Principles Fate Compass? Just that? All my excitement for nothing!”

Jinxia exclaimed, “But when has that little compass ever been accurate? You believe it? Every time it spits out hundreds of candidates, how many actually survive to the end?”

“It’s called casting a wide net and catching more fish. Who cultivates the Dao without setbacks? As you said, plenty are marked as destined, few survive.”

Taiwen Miaocheng’s tone was calm. “Only those who survive are truly destined. The rest, who perish on the way, are but forerunners, dust in the wind of fate.”

When Wei Lingjiang first joined the sect, her master Zhuo Jing had come to ask for a divination.

It was for her disciple’s chance of surviving the Three Tribulations.

The Three Tribulations—an ever-present terror in the hearts of all True Lords and Immortals, like a sharp sickle. At that stage, there are three life-and-death gates to pass, with no exceptions, no matter how gifted.

He used the Two Principles Fate Compass as usual and got several results.

This Chen Heng was one of them.

But whether he was truly Wei Lingjiang’s chance to overcome the tribulations—not even he, a Dao Lord, could be certain.

Heavenly fate has its own logic—how can mortals spy on the will of heaven? At best, one might glimpse a sliver of that “hidden unity,” like a blind man feeling an elephant, attempting to deduce the future.

Even the mighty Dao Court that once ruled the myriad heavens and Dao, able to suppress all worlds with a single will—how grand, how dominant!

Yet, for all its glory, it too perished in a single upheaval, its splendor scattered.

Who can truly know the future, holding it all within their grasp?

His arrangements were merely a matter of laying more bets in advance—if it worked out, all the better. If Wei Lingjiang could survive even one of her tribulations, the Chiming Sect would gain at least another Pure Yang True Lord, if not a Dao Lord.

And if not, it was just a superior Dao art, a mere innate Divine Sunlight—no great loss to give away.

…

“Even if this boy isn’t Wei Lingjiang’s destined tribulation-breaker, with his Primordial True Essence, plus the ‘Ten-Thousand-Mile Sight Talisman’ and ‘Golden Light Divine Talisman’ I’ve bestowed, defeating the Demon of Malice and Shadow should be no trouble. That’ll also resolve the matter with the Ai clan.”

Taiwen Miaocheng smiled slightly. “The Ai clan is getting bolder—the twelve great clans really think, sheltered by the Heavenly Lord’s legacy, they can meddle in my sect’s affairs? If not for the Heavenly Lord’s sake, wiping them out would be nothing but a little extra effort!”

“But this move should serve as a warning—let them restrain themselves, lest they break the oath made by the eight sects, six schools, and the Heavenly Lord…”

While the Dao Lord was lost in thought, Jinxia was left feeling like he’d punched empty air—all his energy had nowhere to go.

He’d never seen his Dao Lord pay such attention to an outsider before.

At first, he’d thought it was because of the man’s background; then, he’d guessed Chen Heng must have hidden talent, worthy of early investment.

After all, his Dao Lord was renowned throughout the realms as a genial friend to all, with thousands of connections—there weren’t many True Lords or True Immortals who hadn’t benefited from him.

Jinxia thought the Dao Lord had found another rare talent, and he’d discovered a future patron himself—hence his eagerness to follow suit and reap future rewards.

But upon learning this was merely one of many “destined ones” calculated by the Two Principles Fate Compass, all that enthusiasm was doused with cold water.

Heaven is fickle, and so is the compass—each time it shows dozens or hundreds of possibilities.

Until the truth is revealed, who knows if today’s living candidate won’t be struck dead by lightning tomorrow?

In such circumstances, never mind clinging to a future patron—even befriending one in advance seemed pointless.

If you pin your hopes on a dead man, what’s the use?

—

“Dao Lord, there’ve been plenty of ‘destined ones’ calculated by the compass before—you simply bestowed a little fate upon them, never this much attention.”

Jinxia scowled at the still-unfolding image of Chen Heng and Wei Lingjiang in the hall. “We don’t even know if Chen Heng is the destined one. With a family like his—filial and loyal—he could die faster than anyone. Why keep watching? It’s a waste!”

“There may have been many destined ones before, but have you ever seen Wei Lingjiang this close to anyone?”

Taiwen Miaocheng spoke with interest, “That girl is usually cold and unyielding in the sect—yet now she’s bashful and shy. It’s rather amusing; I almost feel like a father giving away his daughter.”

“…”

Jinxia rolled his eyes.

“But… you said his family’s loyalty might spell his doom. Ha! That prediction may soon come true!”

At that moment, Taiwen Miaocheng seemed to sense something and looked up into the vast void.

In the seas of Xu Du Heaven, a colossal Bashe serpent was racing through the waves, swift as lightning or morning dew.

With a single movement of its massive body, the winds and clouds changed for a hundred miles; the waves surged to the heavens, countless fish and shrimp perishing in its wake, bellies up, thunder rolling.

At such speed, it would soon reach Dongmi Prefecture…

“The Bashe crosses You River—the pet beast Shenwu Shuhua caught for Chen Yushu from Ququan Heaven? Now it seems more a menace than a pet…”

Taiwen Miaocheng withdrew his gaze with a gentle sigh.

“Chen Yushu has sent for him?”

Jinxia asked curiously, “Elder, will you intervene? If Chen Heng is taken, how will Wei manage to defeat the Demon of Malice alone?”

“What’s the rush?”

Taiwen Miaocheng calculated on his fingers, then said languidly, “By the time that little serpent arrives at Dongmi Prefecture, the demon will have already been vanquished—Wei’s task complete.”

“After that, Elder, you won’t care if Chen Heng lives or dies?”

Jinxia grinned impishly.

“I’m not his father—why should I? Besides, even his own father is like that—why should I meddle? What do you take a Dao Lord for, some attendant spirit? I have better things to do!”

Taiwen Miaocheng glared. “I granted Chen Heng a Dao art, he’s fallen into my scheme, befriended Wei, and together they’ll vanquish the demon—then we’re even!”

“What if he really is the destined one?”

“You said it yourself—only those who survive are doomed to be. If he dies, what’s there to count?”

Taiwen Miaocheng smiled slightly.

Then, with a wave of his hand, he concealed the vision of Chen Heng and Wei Lingjiang.

“Getting old—I really can’t bear to watch young people’s romantic entanglements. It makes me uneasy inside… Let the children sort out their own affairs. For now, let’s have some lively entertainment!”

He clapped his hands, delighted.

A troupe of pure musicians and flying deities entered the hall, bowed respectfully before the cloud couch, and began to play. The music was mellow, clear, enchanting—delicate and ethereal, filling the air with its beauty.

Seeing his Dao Lord rhythmically keeping time, even Jinxia, unversed in music, could not help but nod along after a while.

He had been captured by a great Buddhist patriarch, taken to the Glassless Heaven, where daily he was subjected to monks’ chants, attempting to cleanse his true consciousness.

Though later rescued by his Dao Lord, Jinxia still felt his mind was filled with “om mani padme hum,” his spirit unsettled.

But today, hearing this music, he felt a lightness as if soaring—so enthralled he forgot himself.

…

…

Southern Dongmi Prefecture.

Floating Jade Lake.

Chen Heng and Wei Lingjiang were silent for a moment.

Just as Wei Lingjiang pressed her lips together, seemingly about to speak first, Chen Heng’s expression suddenly shifted. He pulled her close and swiftly shut the door.

“You—”

Caught off guard, Wei Lingjiang stumbled into the room. When she recovered from her shock, she found herself in Chen Heng’s bedchamber.

His tall, upright form loomed before her, blocking the sunlight streaming in through the window lattice, casting a subtle sense of oppression—like a jade mountain about to topple.

“Are you mad?!”

Wei Lingjiang’s cheeks flushed inexplicably; she sent a message in a loud, embarrassed, and angry tone.

“Someone’s coming—it’s Luo Zhang, and others…”

Chen Heng leaned in, brows furrowed, and whispered,

“Don’t make another sound. Understand?”

…

…