Chapter Thirty-Two: A Major Event Unfolds

The sky was gradually growing brighter.

Xu Zhe stood atop the ruins, gazing at the horizon where the first pale light of dawn crept in. The sun had yet to rise, and a coolness lingered in the air, filling him with a sense of serenity and ease.

Qi Ming was not dead, but his face had been caved in all the way to the back of his head. From his two mangled nostrils, a faint breath still ebbed and flowed—barely alive.

Xu Zhe approached Qi Ming, knelt down, and said calmly, “I don’t really want to kill you. I just have this urge to dig out your heart to see if it’s gone completely black.”

With that, he reached out his hand.

But instead of taking Qi Ming’s heart, he rummaged through the man’s robes and pulled out a few items: a shattered jade token, a command seal of the Crow Army, and a pair of delicate pink earrings.

Xu Zhe’s expression instantly turned odd as his gaze fell upon Qi Ming.

So you have this kind of taste? No, wait, there’s no ‘also’ about it.

He reached out again—not for the heart, but to take a red bracelet from Qi Ming’s wrist and a storage ring from his finger.

Though Xu Zhe believed there was no saving Qi Ming, in the end he refrained from dealing the final blow himself.

Just as he had told Qi Ming—he bore him no personal grudge.

Qi Ming had simply chosen the wrong path.

So this fight was because Qi Ming had overstepped, tried to strip away his freedom, had insulted and cursed him repeatedly.

That was all.

As for Qi Ming abducting people for blood sacrifices—a crime regarded as evil and condemned by all in the Cangtian Domain—Xu Zhe had merely taught him a lesson rather than killing him.

He did not wish to pass judgment on Qi Ming’s life.

Those with the right to decide Qi Ming’s fate were the families of his victims.

Xu Zhe stood, looking ahead to where dozens of cultivators had already gathered, faces etched with hatred as they watched the unconscious Qi Ming with predatory intensity.

Xu Zhe lingered in silence, then turned away without a word, heading toward the Tower of the Chosen.

If Qi Ming had shown even a trace of old friendship, Xu Zhe would have chosen to spare his life and let him go.

But Qi Ming had not. Not even a sliver.

...

Back at the Tower of the Chosen, the morning light had fully broken, yet Xu Zhe still turned on the lamps, making the room even brighter.

He headed upstairs and glanced at the washroom. Though the lights were off, everything inside had returned to normal. That patch of utter darkness was gone.

“What a pity,” he murmured in disappointment. “I’d hoped to explore it a bit more.”

He pulled out a clean set of clothes, preparing for a proper bath at last.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

But just then, a knocking came from downstairs, interrupting him once more.

With a resigned sigh, he went down and opened the door to find several pale-faced young cultivators—the very ones who had tried to kill Qi Ming earlier, only to be sent flying by his staff.

“Chosen Xu, may we trouble you for a moment? We have something to discuss,” a young female cultivator spoke up.

Xu Zhe hesitated, recalling their actions earlier, but finally nodded. “Come in, then.”

The group hurried inside.

One of the women immediately closed the door behind them.

Their faces were all grave, their eyes fixed intently on Xu Zhe, as one of them whispered secretively, “Password!”

...

Meanwhile, at the border between the Valley of the Chosen and Western Kun Continent.

A great army clad in flaming red armor stood guard.

From within the valley, two figures sped forth on bicycles—Liu Gaoqing and Zhang Wuma—riding hard and fast.

“Halt, friends. We are the Sixth Battalion of the Vermilion Bird Army, stationed here by the order of the Four Continents Council. For now, no one is allowed in or out of the Valley of the Chosen. Please turn back,” a soldier stepped forward to block their way.

“Sealing the valley? You’re still in the mood to seal the valley?” Liu Gaoqing, brimming with indignation, dismounted, one leg over the pedal as he glided forward.

“There’s chaos inside and you’re still bothering with this?” Zhang Wuma mimicked his style, gliding along as he complained.

Both braked at the same time, nimbly dismounting, and pulled out a pass stamped with the seal of the Four Continents Council.

The soldier was taken aback. So these two reporters from the Path of Fate actually had some backing.

“You say something major happened inside? Didn’t the Crow Army go in to guard Tianhe City?” the soldier asked, unable to suppress his curiosity as he opened the barrier to let them through.

Liu Gaoqing raised his All-Seeing Jade Token with a grin. “Want to know more? Follow the official WeChat account ‘Tai Shang Bu Yi,’ or check the All-Seeing Spirit Web.”

The soldier’s eye twitched. He didn’t press further.

Liu Gaoqing and Zhang Wuma quickly crossed the boundary, entering the lands of Western Kun Continent.

This meant the area was covered by the Spirit Web, so they immediately set to work on their jade tokens, editing and uploading footage to the web in several segments.

As they did so, they left, bubbling with excitement, muttering about striking it rich and surpassing Brother Lin Xiu’s performance.

Hearing certain keywords, the soldier was startled.

The name Lin Xiu had become famous just yesterday after he released footage of the newly awakened Chosen Xu slaying four malevolent spirits during the Night of Souls.

That footage, posted on the Spirit Web, had sparked heated debate across the four continents.

Some accused it of being a fake.

Others argued that, although Xu was of mortal bloodline, he must have inherited some powerful body-forging technique—awakened at peak strength, invincible, able to slay four Foundation Establishment level spirits.

Still others insisted the four slain spirits had been overrated—perhaps only as strong as Qi Refining, not Foundation Establishment.

And as for Xu Zhe, perhaps he had merely slept for ten thousand years, his body changed by some mutation, and with someone’s help in body-forging, had easily dispatched what were in truth feeble spirits.

The debate raged on with no resolution in sight, but any clear-eyed observer knew the real winners were two: the Path of Fate and Lin Xiu.

But now, two Path of Fate disciples fresh from the Valley claimed their results would surpass Lin Xiu’s?

Could something truly earth-shattering have happened inside?

The soldier, full of suspicion, furtively pulled out his All-Seeing Jade Token and logged onto the Spirit Web.

Sure enough, the Path of Fate’s page was flooded with newly posted footage—though all paywalled.

He scanned the headlines:

“Risking Death Undercover in Tianhe City: The Crow Army’s Unspeakable Crimes—by the Path of Fate HD Studio.”

“Qi Ming Disgraces the Chosen: His Three Thousand Crow Soldiers Are All Scum.”

“Destruction of the Black Feather Warship: A Tale of Human Depravity or Moral Collapse?”

“That Night, Chosen Xu Did the Unthinkable to Him.”

“HD, Uncensored: A Man-on-Man Battle Unfolds Before Your Eyes.avi”

“Good heavens…”

The soldier’s jaw dropped. Without hesitation, he paid to watch.

Moments later, he was frozen in place, chills running down his spine, his face drained of color as a single cold sweat traced down his cheek.

He stared at the vast expanse of the Valley of the Chosen in horror, thinking, This time, something truly catastrophic is about to happen.