Chapter 6 Part 1
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This chapter is edited by Farouq Omileye. Thank you for your contribution!
Chapter 6: Master, Here’s My Filial Piety (1)
Mu Yisheng had been waiting for this day for centuries.
He opened his eyes in the dark, lightless sarcophagus, the faint blue fire flickering in his pupils casting an eerie glow on the decayed coffin board.
Everything around him had withered—his body, his power, and even the coffin in which he was entombed.
Mu Yisheng raised a bony hand, his reddish-brown index finger tracing the faint scratches on the coffin lid. Each mark told a story of pain, each line etched into the slate resembling a soy sauce stain.
One. Two. Three.
Every scratch represented a year, a relentless reminder of his suffering. Every year, his body was pierced anew by the accursed gold pillar lodged in his abdomen.
Five hundred and eight scratches.
The pain was unbearable. It tore through him—soul deep and marrow searing.
To describe it, imagine suffering the agony of relentless diarrhea for an entire month. Now multiply that by eternity.
Even more agonizing, this torment came like clockwork every year, lasting half a year each time. Mu Yisheng endured 508 cycles of this, leaving his body withered and thin as bamboo sticks.
For this, 99% of his resentment toward Yan Xiyi, the former leader of the Duxian sect, was well-earned.
—
Memories of Betrayal
Yet, Mu Yisheng’s thoughts wandered back to that snowy night, 508 years ago.
At the time, he held the esteemed position of national master teacher in a small northeastern kingdom. The kingdom, though, was long gone.
Under the guise of his title, he committed unspeakable atrocities, refining countless women—including the queen—into fuel for his Yin Yuan Immortal Mirror.
The truth was hidden from the naive king, who mistakenly believed his people were cursed by the wrath of the gods. In desperation, the king offered sacrifices, ultimately surrendering himself on the altar.
Mu Yisheng had been preparing to leave, seeking new “materials” for his dark craft. But then, the unthinkable happened.
A divine vision tore through the skies, golden light illuminating the night as Yan Xiyi descended, screaming the word “Evil!”
At that moment, Yan Xiyi seemed godlike. His golden swords rained down, scattering the dark clouds. For the common folk, Yan Xiyi was their savior, their beacon of hope.
—
Sealed Fate
Mu Yisheng, despite his strength, was no match for Yan Xiyi. The Yin Yuan Immortal Mirror, a near-immortal artifact in its completed form, was still unfinished.
Forced to retreat to his homeland, Mu Yisheng rallied his remaining forces. Yet, even with his subordinates, Yan Xiyi struck him down, tearing him to pieces. The battle left Yan Xiyi gravely wounded, and Mu Yisheng’s fragmented body was sealed in the sarcophagus.
But Mu Yisheng had prepared for this.
“Yan Xiyi, you underestimated me!” he sneered in the present, his voice trembling with rage. “I divided my soul when I was merely at the Golden Core Stage!”
The other half of his soul had fled with the sarcophagus. Over centuries, his subordinates worked tirelessly, slowly breaking the seal. Now, 500 years later, the seal had weakened, and his body was ready to reawaken.
—
Revenge
The first thought in Mu Yisheng’s mind was vengeance.
Yan Xiyi may be dead, but the Duxian sect still thrived. His descendants still lived. Destroying the sect, defiling Yan Yue, and refining her into his Yin Yuan Immortal Mirror became his ultimate goal.
But Yan Yue wasn’t his only target.
Mu Yisheng counted on his fingers—Xu Tingxue, Fang Qiuya, and even the elder An Lan were part of his sinister plans.
“An Lan,” he murmured with a sinister grin. A beauty, delicate yet strong, she would make an ideal leader for his Yin Yuan Immortal Mirror.
Above all, Bai Lian, An Lan’s eldest disciple, intrigued him. A Natural Saint, she radiated divinity. Yet, Mu Yisheng laughed at the thought. Divine retribution? He had no fear.
He saw this as an opportunity. Bai Lian’s unparalleled spirit could fully activate the Yin Yuan Immortal Mirror.
—
Breaking Free
The time had come.
Mu Yisheng sacrificed a fragment of his soul, summoning a surge of power to break the chains binding him.
With a groan, he pulled the gold pillar from his abdomen. Corrupt black water gushed from the wound, filling the sarcophagus with a putrid stench. But Mu Yisheng paid no mind.
With immense effort, he pushed aside the stone lid, scattering dust and debris. For the first time in 500 years, he saw the sunlight again.
As his other half-soul reunited with his body, he transformed, regaining his youthful appearance.
Ascending into the sky, he gazed down upon the world below, pride swelling in his chest.
“You’re finished, Bai Lian!” he declared, his voice dripping with malice.
—
Gathering Allies
Word spread quickly among the “Blue Fires” of Mu Yisheng’s resurrection.
His followers, scattered over the years, rushed to his side, ready to serve.
Plans were made to capitalize on Jue Yunzi’s Guafeng Disaster, during which the Duxian sect would be vulnerable.
“Divide our forces,” Mu Yisheng commanded. “One group will intercept Jue Yunzi; the other will destroy the Duxian sect. I will personally handle Bai Lian with my Yin Yuan Immortal Mirror.”
—
The Mirror’s Power
In his grasp, the black mirror hummed with dark energy. Mu Yisheng caressed its surface, a manic grin spreading across his face.
“O magic mirror, magic mirror,” he whispered. “This time, I will fulfill your desires!”
The mirror rippled, its surface alive with energy. Suddenly, a loud splash resounded, as though something were about to emerge.
Startled, Mu Yisheng quickly stowed it away. Even he feared the deranged and aggressive spirit of the mirror.
And so, the stage was set for Mu Yisheng’s grand vengeance.
The Duxian sect would soon face its reckoning.