The Sacred Domain of the Undying Sect

After walking dozens of li through dense woodlands and avoiding many cultivators along the way, they finally arrived at the sacred grounds of the Undying Sect. Ahead, auspicious mist swirled around the elegant peaks—a land that truly gathered the spiritual essence of heaven and earth.

As they ventured deeper, fragrant flowers and birdsong greeted them; waterfalls cascaded over crystalline streams. It was as if they had stepped into a celestial grotto, a pure land beyond the dust of the mortal world.

Xiao Chen’s heart stirred. This was unquestionably a sacred site. The founding master of the Undying lineage, the Evil King, had left an awe‑inspiring legacy in the Mortal World—a figure whose name shook the ages. In his mortal days, Xiao Chen had never dreamed of crossing paths with the Evil King; that legendary being belonged to tales passed down through centuries, too distant for him to ever touch. Yet here he stood, at the very heart of the Undying Sect.

‘Is the Evil King truly residing here? Do you see him often?’ Xiao Chen asked a nearby disciple. The disciple’s face darkened, and he shot Xiao Chen a strange look but gave no answer.

‘Don’t hold a grudge, friend. Throwing you into the sea was that little white beast’s doing, not mine.’ Xiao Chen’s offhand remark made the disciple turn away in anger, moving three paces off and refusing to look at him again.

Inside this scenic immortal mountain, white apes frolicked, spirit deer carried fruits in their mouths, and celestial cranes danced through the air. Springs chimed a clear melody; pavilions and palaces dotted the landscape amid the drifting immortal mist. It was truly a pure land beyond the mundane world.

Suddenly, Xiao Chen spotted two enormous shapes circling overhead—two black winged dragons, each some eighteen meters in length, their wings spanning thirty meters. Their scales glittered with a cold light, and as their wings beat, they stirred up fierce gales that sent the milky‑white immortal mist rolling.

‘Brothers, how do you have winged dragons here?’ Xiao Chen asked, genuinely surprised.

A disciple of the Undying Sect shot him a weary glance. ‘They are the black dragons subdued by our sect’s Seventh Ancestor—guardians of the faith.’

‘What a show of power! Subduing such fierce winged dragons to protect the sect—truly remarkable. These are demigods, after all.’

At the mountain gate, Xiao Chen also saw a three‑headed giant beast, ten meters long, covered in black armor, shaped like a tiger but with an even more ferocious appearance. It lay crouched there in silence—another guardian beast of the faith.

‘Ah, junior sister! You’ve returned safely at last—I have been worried for so long.’ A handsome young man led a group out of the mountain gate to greet them. He seemed a formidable figure; when his gaze swept over Xiao Chen, a glint of sharp light flashed in his eyes.

‘Qingcheng greets Senior Brother Qin Yi.’

‘Why be so formal with me, junior sister? Haha. Come quickly to see the Sect Master—he has been waiting for you. I will prepare a feast to celebrate your safe return.’ Qin Yi smiled warmly, then turned his gaze to the black little dragon by their side. ‘Is this one of the Dragon Kings? Did you subdue it, junior sister?’

‘No, that one was subdued by Xiao Chen.’

‘Oh? Then, Brother Xiao, I look forward to getting to know you better,’ Qin Yi said, finally turning fully to face Xiao Chen.

‘Likewise,’ Xiao Chen answered casually.

As they entered this blessed grotto, Yan Qingcheng soon went to see the Sect Master. Apart from Qin Yi, the other disciples seemed to hold the senior brother in considerable fear.

Xiao Chen was assigned to a guest cottage beside a grove of emerald bamboo. After waiting about an hour, someone came to summon him—the Sect Master wished to see him. Xiao Chen left the three skeletons and the two little beasts behind, telling them to wait quietly.

On the way, he met Qin Yi again. Though the other man greeted him with a smile, Xiao Chen’s instincts told him that Qin Yi was far from friendly.

‘Brother Xiao, I hear you have become the cauldron for my junior sister’s Shattering Demon, Planting God technique?’ Qin Yi asked as they walked.

‘Yes, by chance I became entangled in that karma with Miss Qingcheng.’

‘Mm… strange. You seem to be quite a bit stronger than my junior sister. Why would she choose you?’ Qin Yi smiled, then added, ‘Ordinarily, Shattering Demon, Planting God is practiced on one’s bitterest enemy, so that hatred drives the breakthrough. Is there some enmity between you and my junior sister, Brother Xiao?’

Though his tone was mild and seemingly concerned, the words carried hidden barbs—both provocation and warning.

‘Is that so? Shattering Demon, Planting God has such strange requirements?’ Xiao Chen laughed. ‘But Miss Qingcheng and I are close friends who faced life‑and‑death trials together. On Dragon Island we helped each other survive. She told me she chose me because she trusts me. Even if her cultivation fails, she won’t have to fear being controlled by me, because she knows I will not harm her.’

Qin Yi’s expression remained unchanged, but his smile tightened a fraction. ‘Thank you for taking care of my junior sister, Brother Xiao. If she had come to harm, the Sect Master would have been deeply grieved. He regards her highly—this mission was meant to temper her, and in the future he may entrust her with great responsibility. Perhaps she will even become the next Sect Master.’

‘Is that so? I didn’t realize Miss Qingcheng was so valued by your Sect Master.’

The two continued talking as they walked, each weaving a tapestry of half‑truths and hidden meanings.

‘Brother Xiao, what are your plans for the future?’ Qin Yi asked.

‘Nothing in particular. If your sect doesn’t mind, I would like to stay for a while and spend more time with Miss Qingcheng,’ Xiao Chen replied without a hint of shame.

Qin Yi’s expression twitched, but he quickly recovered. Xiao Chen chuckled inwardly: ‘Keep pretending, boy. I wonder how long you can hold your calm.’

Because Xiao Chen’s cultivation was far above Yan Qingcheng’s, once she formally began the Shattering Demon, Planting God technique, her link with him would become extremely tight—unless a miracle occurred, she would end up firmly under his control.

After a brief pause, Qin Yi said, ‘Brother Xiao, please don’t misunderstand. My junior sister is the Sect Master’s prized disciple; she might succeed to the great seat. When one becomes the head of the Undying Sect, they are not permitted close contact with cultivators outside the sect.’

‘That is bad news. I admire Miss Qingcheng deeply, and we have mutual affection. But I would not want to cause her to give up the position of Sect Master because of me.’ Xiao Chen spoke with perfect sincerity, as if he were discussing the most natural thing in the world. Qin Yi felt a surge of anger; he wanted nothing more than to strike the man, but as a leading figure of the younger generation of the Undying Sect, he could not afford such discourtesy.

Xiao Chen did not realize that nearby disciples were taking down every word and would soon relay it to Yan Qingcheng.

Soon they arrived before a grand and imposing hall. Qin Yi stopped and let a female disciple escort Xiao Chen inside.

The vast hall was quiet, filled with wisps of incense smoke. An old man with white hair and a deeply wrinkled face sat cross‑legged at its center. He appeared to be seventy or eighty, but gave off an extraordinarily strange sensation—though he was sitting right there, it seemed impossible to sense his presence; it was as if only a mass of air occupied that space, not an old man in meditation.

A true expert—formidable beyond doubt. As the Sect Master of the Undying Sect, he must be at least a demigod.

‘Are you Xiao Chen?’

‘Yes. I pay my respects to Senior.’ Xiao Chen, though unimpressed by some of the sect’s disciples, felt a measure of awe before this old man.

‘Was it you who killed Junior Brother Wang Hao?’ The Sect Master came straight to the point.

Xiao Chen froze. There was no denying it—everyone on the Divine Ship had seen him finish Wang Hao with his Slay the Gods technique. Even though Keke had bound Wang Hao’s movements, Xiao Chen clearly sensed that Wang Hao, though of the same elder generation, was worlds apart from this old man, not even remotely comparable.

So Xiao Chen began recounting the events on Dragon Island, the story he and Yan Qingcheng had rehearsed aboard the Sovereign Ship—they had to be perfectly consistent.

While Xiao Chen and the Sect Master conversed, Yan Qingcheng, both embarrassed and angry, rushed to the outside of the hall, having already heard of Xiao Chen’s words to Qin Yi. Other disciples had also caught wind and were whispering that Xiao Chen might become the Undying Sect’s son‑in‑law.

‘Junior sister, is he talking nonsense?’

‘Then since he’s talking nonsense, we’ll take care of him for you.’

‘How despicable—sullying junior sister’s reputation. He needs to be taught a lesson.’

Some male disciples were incensed. Off to the side, Qin Yi’s expression was also grim, but his status among the younger generation was high, so no one dared make a fuss near him.

Many female disciples wore looks of amusement. Yan Qingcheng was usually doted on by elder experts and surrounded by male disciples who eagerly displayed their devotion. It was rare to see her suffer such a setback.

Inside the hall, the Sect Master asked Xiao Chen many questions, then fell silent for a long time. After a full quarter of an hour, he finally spoke: ‘Many people returned safely from Dragon Island. I received a secret report not long ago that you once took Qingcheng as a female slave on that island. Is that true?’

As he spoke, the old man seemed to step out of nothingness, no longer a mere phantom. He appeared solid and real inside the hall, and in an instant, an overwhelming pressure descended upon Xiao Chen, nearly crushing his spirit.

‘You only know half the story, Senior. Miss Qingcheng and I were forced to put on an act to survive, to make outsiders believe we were hostile and that she had lost her combat strength.’

The Sect Master stared at Xiao Chen for a long time, his gaze almost corporeal, like twin swords piercing into Xiao Chen’s mind. In those brief moments, Xiao Chen was bathed in sweat, on the verge of collapse. But he gritted his teeth and held on—better to shatter than to confess. Otherwise, he might die a miserable death. In that instant, Xiao Chen felt acutely the importance of having a powerful sect behind him.

When the crushing pressure finally vanished, Xiao Chen nearly toppled over. To his astonishment, the Sect Master seemed to have truly stepped into another dimension, leaving his body half‑phantom, as if only a hazy shadow.

‘Come. I want to see that little white beast—what sort of rare creature it is.’

Hearing those words, Xiao Chen was startled. Keke had drawn the attention of this unfathomable old man. He could not tell if that was good or bad.

Sensing Xiao Chen’s concern, the old man said calmly, ‘I mean no harm. I received a report recently; your little beast is not a Dragon King, but it is no lesser than one. I wish to see what kind of rare species it is.’

When Xiao Chen walked out of the hall, he found many disciples gathered outside. Most were smiling, though some male disciples glared at him with undisguised hostility. Yan Qingcheng blocked his path, her expression anything but pleasant.

‘Xiao Chen, you—’ She cut herself short as the other disciples quickly stepped back respectfully. The Sect Master had emerged behind Xiao Chen, drifting like a wisp of cloud.

The Sect Master glanced indifferently at the crowd, then walked forward. Xiao Chen followed, first calling out to Yan Qingcheng: ‘Miss Qingcheng, I’ll find you later.’ Then to the others: ‘See you all soon.’

The disciples stood dumbfounded. Some clenched their fists, but no one dared to say a word in the Sect Master’s presence.

Soon, Xiao Chen and the Sect Master reached the bamboo cottage. The little defiant dragon and Keke rushed out together. The Sect Master’s eyes shot beams of divine light as he fixed his gaze on them unblinkingly.

Both little beasts seemed to feel the enormous pressure. They instantly squared off against the Sect Master.

‘Two very strange little beasts,’ the old man murmured to himself.

‘Roar—’ As if sensing the Sect Master’s overwhelming power, the little defiant dragon let out a furious roar, as if challenging him to battle. The old man smiled faintly. ‘Not a Dragon King, but it has the qualities of one.’

Keke, wide‑eyed, circled the old man, apparently curious about why he was so interested in them.

‘This little white beast is even stranger. I will need to consult an ancient text to determine its identity.’

Just then, the three skeletons emerged. They were wearing the shed skins of the devil, making them look gaunt and bizarre. But when the Sect Master saw their faces, he was visibly shaken—far more agitated than when he saw the two little beasts. He muttered, ‘These are… how can this be?!’