The next few days, the Eastern Hundred Cities boiled in a way no rumor could fully capture.
"Heavenly Dao Academy's Named Hero killed nine undyings alone!"
"You're blind—it was eleven in total! Five crushed by his hand, two refined alive in that Chaos Cauldron, four obliterated inside some sealed battlefield—"
"Forget the undyings—he seized multiple Immortal Emperor Life Treasures and then… just gave them away. To women."
"They say to his Dao companions…"
"A youth at Named Hero realm… killing undyings and robbing Emperor weapons… Is he planning to build a new emperor lineage?"
Taverns buzzed, tea houses shook, dao platforms flared with messages from one domain to another. Old storytellers who had repeated the same Immortal Emperor tales for decades now found themselves stuttering over a new name.
Ling Feng.
In smoky inns overlooking caravan roads, merchants spoke his name with awe and fear. In hidden chambers behind sect halls, Ancestors rolled the syllables around their tongues like something bitter they were forced to swallow.
Some called him Heavenly Dao Academy's Guardian Demon.
Others whispered "Chaos Young Lord," thinking of that unfathomable Dao that suppressed even Immortal Emperor weapons.
In one sealed chamber after another, the truly old figures listened.
"Heavenly Dao Academy reclaimed its status as one of the human race's pillars long ago," an ancient voice rasped from within a coffin-like treasure. "Now it has picked up a blade from… elsewhere."
"In that battle," another Ancestor murmured in a dim underground hall, fingers tapping a cracked armrest, "Azure Mysterious and Brilliance both suffered heavy losses. Undyings beheaded, Emperor Life Treasures taken… The hatred between them and that youth is already etched into bone and fate."
"And still, he walks in and out of Heavenly Dao Academy freely," a third voice said, watching a jade projection of the Everlasting Tree. "Old Daoist Peng and those ancients actually treat him like an equal."
Slowly, a consensus spread like invisible ink seeping into silk: whatever Ling Feng's current realm, his threat and potential surpassed ordinary Godkings. He was someone who might stand shoulder to shoulder with future Emperors… or become something the Heaven's Will could not measure at all.
Inside Heavenly Dao Academy, the atmosphere shifted.
Disciples who once whispered his name with idle curiosity now lowered their heads respectfully when he passed, their backs unconsciously straightening, as if worried a stray look might draw down a thunder tribulation.
Some of the proud Heaven's Will candidates fostered by the academy quietly turned their Dao Hearts, no longer daring to think of Ling Feng as a "competitor." A mountain did not compete with stones at its base.
Even the Seven Ancient Ancestors stopped calling him "junior" in private.
Old Daoist Peng, when discussing academy affairs with his brothers, sometimes unconsciously phrased things as:
"When our academy and Ling Feng act…"
But the person at the center of this storm—Ling Feng himself—seemed unaware.
Or rather, he simply didn't care.
...
Heavenly Dao Academy's days returned to a strange, deceptively peaceful rhythm.
Under the Everlasting Tree, he could often be found napping in a reclining chair, one leg crossed over the other, hands folded behind his head. Sunlight filtered through leaves that had seen countless epochs, dappling his face in shifting patterns of gold and shadow.
At noon, Li Shangyuan would come quietly with a fresh pot of tea.
She walked with the steady, unhurried grace of one who now bore a Heavenly Sovereign-level weapon as naturally as breathing. The Black Tortoise Rod had transformed into a slender jade staff resting against her shoulder; the weight of an Emperor Life Treasure had already melted into her bones.
She would pour tea, steam curling around her pale fingers.
"How is it?" Ling Feng would ask without opening his eyes. "Not too heavy?"
"Not at all," she'd answer softly. "It feels… reassuring. Like there's always someone standing behind me."
"One of us has to," he said lazily. "When trouble comes, don't be polite. Swing that thing until their ancestors wake up asking who beat their descendants so badly."
Li Shangyuan's expression would twitch. "…Young Noble, you really say such things so calmly."
"If I shout and pose first, it's tiring," he said. "Better to just hit them."
She'd lower her lashes to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her lips and quietly pour him another cup.
In the afternoons, the quiet courtyard would turn lively.
Chen Baojiao inevitably appeared, Imperial Violet Hammer slung over her shoulder like an oversized toy that could flatten mountains. Sweat glistened on her perfect jade skin, hair tied high to keep out of her eyes.
"Young Noble!" she'd grin, eyes bright. "Fight me!"
"You just want an excuse to swing that thing around," Ling Feng said, pushing himself up from the chair.
On the practice field, each swing of the Imperial Violet Hammer shook the earth. Waves of tyrannical force rose like crashing seas. Ling Feng blocked them with casually raised palms, Chaos Force quietly dissolving impact that could crush Enlightened Beings.
"You're still holding back," he would say, two fingers lightly catching the descending hammerhead. The ground spiderwebbed beneath his feet; his posture didn't shift an inch. "You're not breaking enough bones."
Chen Baojiao's chest heaved, her breathing rough but eyes blazing. "If I break any more, there won't be anyone left to boast in front of!"
"Exactly," he replied. "You have to hit them so hard their sects don't even dare lie about the outcome."
She would laugh until her stomach hurt, that arrogant, heroic laughter that made lesser disciples silently vow never to fight that "supreme beauty" in their lives.
Evenings belonged to quieter storms.
Sometimes, he sat across from Chi Xiaodie in a lamp-lit room, ledgers and jade slips stacked between them like miniature mountains. The little Virtuous Paragon tower floated in midair, emitting a gentle radiance that suppressed the chaotic karmic currents of countless cities and fiefs.
Chi Xiaodie's brows knotted as she read. Lines of numbers, resource flow charts, troop movement ledgers—she absorbed them all, shoulders bearing weight that would snap an ordinary ruler in half.
"You're trying to use the same hand to hold a sword and carry the world," Ling Feng remarked, watching her with amusement. "Greedy, aren't you?"
Her brush halted.
"You're the one who told me to be greedy," she said, eyes firm. "To seize everything I can for my people. Why are you complaining now?"
"I'm not," he said, lips quirking. "I like greedy women. Means they'll cling to me longer."
Her jade hand slipped, a small blot of ink staining the ledger.
"…You always say such shameless things so seriously," she muttered, ears flushing.
He reached over, taking the brush from her fingers, his hand warm and steady.
"Relax your shoulders," he said. "If you hunch over like that every night, you'll ruin your back before we even reach the World Tree."
"World… Tree?" she blinked.
"Nothing," he said lightly. "Just talking."
Other nights, he stood opposite Bai Jianzhen on a lonely plateau behind the academy, moonlight spilling over the two like cold water.
She held an Immortal Emperor Sword Life Treasure in her hand now, the blade humming softly like a dragon breathing in its sleep. Each stroke cut not flesh, but Dao lines—lines that only sword maniacs like her could see.
Ling Feng met those strokes bare-handed.
The emperor-level edge grazed his sleeves, sliced a few strands of his hair, traced thin white lines along his fingers that healed before the wind could enter. Each time she failed to truly touch him, her sword intent doubled, honed to a finer point.
"Again," she said after her thirtieth attempt, eyes like two drawn blades.
"Good," he answered. "You're only a few eras away from scaring Emperors now."
Her breath caught. The praise was simple, but from his mouth, it sounded like a promise.
In those moments, the plateau was silent except for the clash between pure sword Dao and a Chaos that did not belong to this world.
Bing Yuxia, of course, treated the academy like her second courtyard now.
Officially, she came to "discuss matters of Merit Laws." Unofficially, she came to drink wine on Ling Feng's chair, kick his foot when he annoyed her, and watch him stir up trouble with a half-admiring, half-exasperated gaze.
"This young master heard," she said one afternoon, dropping onto the opposite seat with a jug of divine wine, "that certain undyings' clans are gnashing their teeth, saying they want to wash Heavenly Dao Academy in blood."
Ling Feng poured tea, unbothered.
"They're welcome to come," he replied. "I've been too idle recently. It's good to have volunteers for exercise."
"Arrogant," she snorted, sipping from the jug. "If you die, I really will smash your tombstone."
"Just remember to pour wine for me first," he said. "It'd be a waste otherwise."
She rolled her eyes. The next time she came, she brought an even finer vintage.
He also found time for more subtle advances.
A hand lingering a heartbeat longer on Chi Xiaodie's waist when he steadied her from a "stumble."
A thumb brushing the corner of Bai Jianzhen's lips under the pretext of wiping away blood after a spar, his gaze calm and unhurried.
An arm casually around Bing Yuxia's shoulders during a particularly dangerous descent into a chaotic qi sea—"Don't be shy, the wind doesn't care," he said, ignoring her stiff neck and the faint pink climbing her ears.
None of it crossed the final line.
But the distance between them shrank, step by quiet step.
Even Mei Suyao, who had always stood at a distant height, began to appear more often.
One evening, as the sun bled into the horizon and the Everlasting Tree's shadow stretched long, a soft immortal radiance approached the courtyard. Each step of the newcomer seemed to be accompanied by quiet hymns only the soul could hear.
Mei Suyao came alone.
Eternal River School's goddess wore plain robes that could not hide her peerless bearing. The Immortal Soulbone between her brows was veiled under gentle light, but its presence made the surrounding heaven and earth instinctively more orderly.
She stood under the Everlasting Tree, hands folded, looking at the man half-reclined in his chair.
"Young Noble Ling," she greeted, her voice naturally carrying immortal charm that calmed hearts.
Ling Feng shifted slightly, one eye opening.
"Mei Suyao." He smiled. "Here to scold me on behalf of the Mortal Emperor World?"
She shook her head, lips curving faintly.
"This generation's world owes you a favor," she said. "It would be hypocritical to scold you for what no one else could have done."
Her gaze slid to the Emperor Life Treasures quietly orbiting him like planets.
"But your path is too wild," she added. "If you continue like this, even the Heaven's Will may not know how to judge you."
"The Heaven's Will can keep its opinions," Ling Feng replied. "I walk my own path."
The Immortal Soulbone flashed once, threads of vast computation unfolding in a breath. It perceived layers of his words others would miss—the way his existence sat slightly outside the world's river of karma, as if some other force had reached in and rearranged cause and effect.
Her eyes deepened.
"…I see," she murmured.
They spoke of dao.
Of Heaven's Will and its weight.
Of Immortal Emperors—those who bore the heavens above their heads and the karmic debts of all living beings below their feet.
She listened carefully, occasionally asking a pointed question that could only come from someone who had thought seriously about shouldering a world.
He answered lazily, sometimes with jokes, but in between his casual speech were glimpses of something terrifying: a perspective not bound by the Nine Worlds' walls.
At the end, when Mei Suyao turned to leave, he called after her.
"Next time, bring your friend too."
She paused. "Ye Chuyun?"
"Mhm. That girl has a good heart," he said. "I like it."
Mei Suyao's lips curved more deeply.
"I will tell her," she replied.
...
Ye Chuyun came indeed.
She arrived like a spring breeze from the Barren Earth—calm, composed, but with a quiet spark in her eyes. Pure Lotus School's prime disciple and Southern Tang's princess, she had joined Heavenly Dao Academy earlier than in another life, entering Sacred Era Hall and quickly becoming part of Bing Yuxia's little circle.
Bing Yuxia had already dragged her several times to "watch that crazy Named Hero" from a safe distance.
This time, under the Everlasting Tree, they met properly.
"Ye Chuyun," Ling Feng greeted, sitting up a little straighter. "I've heard you handle troublesome people very well."
She blinked, then laughed softly, a clear, refreshing sound.
"Is Young Noble Ling asking whether I can handle you?" she replied, tone half-joking.
"I don't need handling," he countered. "Just someone who can pour tea while I break the sky."
Her eyes sparkled.
"That sounds… interesting," she admitted.
They spoke of the Barren Earth, of Pure Lotus' traditions, of Southern Tang's delicate political balance. She spoke with gentleness, but there was steel under her words—a bottom line that would not bend.
He liked that.
She, in turn, liked that when he looked at his people, even while bragging shamelessly, his gaze was warm and steady, as if he had already decided they were his and he would carry them even if the heavens fell.
To Ling Feng, it was part showing off, part sincere generosity, and part charm he openly considered irresistible.
When the girls muttered "shameless" at his self-assessment, he only laughed.
The results spoke for themselves.
His circle widened.
His roots in Heavenly Dao Academy and the Eastern Hundred Cities sank deeper.
And in the background, something vast stirred.
...
The Realm God's breathing grew rough.
Deep beneath the academy, under layers of forbidden arrays and ancient stones, the colossal demonic pine tree groaned. Its branches—visible only to spiritual senses—trembled violently, scraping against the walls of reality like claws seeking escape.
One night, Old Daoist Peng summoned Ling Feng to the Everlasting Courtyard's deepest sealed chamber.
The air there was thick with ancient dao. In the dim glow of suppressive runes, the Realm God's trunk loomed like a dark mountain, its bark etched with patterns that were not of this world.
Old Daoist Peng stood before it, hands tucked into his sleeves, worry carved deep into his wrinkles.
"The Realm God seems to be entering a crazed state again," he said gravely. "Earlier, it suddenly became furious. My brothers and I had to join forces to barely appease it. If it truly goes mad…"
"The academy and Eastern Hundred Cities will be rubble," Ling Feng finished, echoing words another youth had once heard in this very chamber.
He stepped closer to the pine.
Faint black light writhed in his palm—something he had collected during his foray into the void, a fragment of that same darkness that had once carried the Realm God here through the Void Gate under the World Tree.
"The portal is going to open soon," he said quietly. "The Realm God is sensing the Void Gate."
Old Daoist Peng sighed, looking older than ever.
"In the past, our ancestor took it out of that place when it was still small," he said. "It does not remember where it came from, only that it fears that darkness. If the portal opens again…"
"It will panic," Ling Feng said. "Like a child hearing the footsteps of a cruel parent."
He placed his palm flat against the trunk.
Inside his Chaos, threads of alien energy unfurled. His Chaos Sense traced the Realm God's origin—root lines that stretched toward something that should not exist in this epoch, traces of the World Tree's aura corrupted by void residue, the way the Void Gate's distant echo was scraping across its mind, shredding its sanity.
He clicked his tongue softly.
"Messy."
"Ling Feng," Old Daoist Peng said slowly. "Can you…"
"I can help," Ling Feng cut him off. "But I'm not a charity."
The old daoist's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"
"Nothing big." Ling Feng's tone was light, almost lazy. "Just a small favor the Realm God can handle easily. Nothing on the level of flattening Godkings or Emperors."
"These words coming from your mouth do not reassure me," Old Daoist Peng muttered.
Ling Feng laughed.
"Relax, old man. As long as the Realm God is stable, I won't let the academy collapse." He patted the pine trunk as if it were some enormous beast's shoulder. "I just need to borrow your portal for a bit. I want to pick up some medicine from the World Tree."
Old Daoist Peng stared at him for a long time, then let out a bitter laugh.
"As long as the Realm God can be saved," he said at last, "we will do whatever it takes."
Ling Feng nodded.
"Good," he said. "Then let me handle this."
He pressed the fragment of void darkness into the Realm God's bark. Chaos Force wrapped the corruption like a cage, bending its resonance, turning a howl into a whisper. The Realm God's tremors slowed, its murderous aura thickening into a low, anxious growl instead of a berserk roar.
In that gloom, Ling Feng's eyes gleamed.
Timeless Portal.
Void Gate.
World Tree.
Pieces of a puzzle only he saw clearly.
...
The day the portal opened, the Mortal Emperor World shook again.
From the Eastern Hundred Cities' outer walls to the Grand Sea's storm-tossed shores, countless cultivators looked toward Heavenly Dao Academy. On that day, it was not merely an ordinary sect—it was the axis upon which the world turned.
On the vast platform where the Timeless Portal stood, ancient runes carved by Immortal Emperor Hao Hai glowed to life one by one. Each rune was a miniature world, linking heaven and earth, connecting the Eastern Hundred Cities to that mysterious space between reality and the World Tree.
Stories resurfaced like bubbles in boiling water.
The Thousand Emperors Gate's four consecutive emperors.
Fortunes gained on the World Tree that could rewrite a lineage's destiny in a single generation.
Catastrophes—those who entered and never returned, swallowed by unknown realms.
Banners of great lineages fluttered in the wind.
Carriages carved from divine jade hovered in the air, drawn by beasts whose roars shook the platform. Chariots rolled in, pulled by dragons, phoenixes, and ancient qilins. Every force that dared call itself powerful had sent its finest youths and heaviest cards.
The air smelled of incense, blood, and ambition.
Then—
Immortal hymns descended.
A figure stepped onto the platform, each step followed by the sound of chanting and the fragrance of lotus flowers. Her presence calmed the restless killing intent in the air like a cool breeze passing over boiling water.
"Goddess Mei Suyao…" someone whispered.
Prime descendant of Eternal River School. Bearer of the Immortal Soulbone. One of the few Heaven's Will candidates other lineages spoke of with reluctant admiration.
She was not alone.
Walking beside—not behind—her was a slightly smaller figure with clear, tranquil eyes: Ye Chuyun.
"Is that…" a Sacred Era Hall student murmured, recognizing the girl he'd seen around the academy. "Ye Chuyun, Pure Lotus School's prime disciple?"
Rumors had already spread that Pure Lotus' genius and Southern Tang's princess had joined Heavenly Dao Academy's Sacred Era Hall and was frequently seen in Bing Yuxia's circle.
From the opposite edge of the platform, another aura surged.
A young man descended from the sky.
Each step he took merged perfectly with the grand dao. Mountains and rivers seemed to breathe with him; the sun and moon dimmed as if their presence offended his solitary radiance.
"Deity Jikong Wudi!" someone shouted, voice cracking.
Immortal Emperor Ta Kong's descendant. Emperor Era Hall's prime student. The one born with three Saint aptitudes and refined into the path of Ascension Physique, a Heaven's Will candidate polished by Immortal Emperor legacy itself.
Mei Suyao. Jikong Wudi.
Two pillars of this generation in the Mortal Emperor World.
Their arrival turned countless geniuses into little more than decorative rocks.
For a moment, the platform's center of gravity rested between them—immortal grace on one side, imperial pressure on the other.
Then a ripple went through the crowd.
Heavenly Dao Academy's bells rang once—clear, deep, echoing between heaven and earth.
A group emerged from the academy's inner halls.
At their head walked a young man in simple clothes, hair tied back casually, hands tucked into his sleeves.
Ling Feng.
Behind him, like a small but terrifying procession, followed:
Li Shuangyan, white robes and Pure Jade Physique radiating a cold luster.
Chen Baojiao, fiery and bold.
Bai Jianzhen, swordswoman of the Divine Sword Sacred Ground, blade sheathed yet sword Dao already cutting the air.
Bing Yuxia, Idle Era Hall's "this young master," chin raised, Heaven Cutting Tablet sealed on her back.
Chi Xiaodie, eyes sharp, already calculating the balance of power in the crowd.
Xu Pei, graceful as flowing water, dark-green cauldron in her arms, aura stable and powerful from countless battles and nights spent cultivating with him.
The field exploded.
"That's him…"
"The Heavenly Dao Academy's Named Hero!"
"The one who killed undyings and stole Emperor weapons…"
Ling Feng ignored the noise.
He strolled forward as if taking a walk with his wives, eyes half-lidded, commenting lightly on the weather.
"Too many people," he remarked, glancing at the sea of geniuses. "Feels like a big market day."
Chen Baojiao snorted, lips curling.
"Markets are noisier than this," she said. "Here, at least, no one is haggling."
"Not yet," Ling Feng said. "Wait until they see the portal. Then you'll hear begging loud enough to shake the heavens."
Chi Xiaodie's eyes swept the platform, automatically classifying sect banners, counting elite disciples, calculating which ancient lineages had sent how many nobles. Her mind raced, thinking of future alliances, future wars.
Bai Jianzhen's gaze slid to Jikong Wudi's solitary figure, sword intent sharpening. In her perception, he wasn't a person so much as a question: How many strokes would it take to cut him?
Bing Yuxia tilted her chin, eyes flicking over Mei Suyao and Jikong Wudi, then back to Ling Feng's back.
"Tch," she muttered quietly. "The world is unfair."
All of them were sharp, radiant figures in their own right.
But when Ling Feng walked among them, they became part of his scenery.
Jikong Wudi's Dao flickered.
He turned his head, looking at Ling Feng.
Their gazes met.
For a brief instant, space twisted.
In Jikong Wudi's perception, the crowded platform fell away. The runes, the banners, even Mei Suyao's immortal light—all vanished like dust blown from a painting.
He stood alone on the edge of a vast, lightless abyss.
On the other side, Ling Feng stood in a place that did not belong to this epoch's Heaven's Will at all. Mysterious energy he could not understand swirled lazily behind him—a darkness not of malice, but of primal possibility, a force that made even Immortal Emperor Dao Laws feel like thin paper.
Ling Feng smiled.
It wasn't mocking, nor was it polite.
It was simply casual—the way a man looked down at a puzzle he had already solved a long time ago.
Jikong Wudi's heart skipped a beat.
His Ascension Physique, which had never bowed to anyone, trembled without his permission. For a single breath, his Fate Palaces felt as if someone had placed a palm on them from the outside.
Then the vision shattered.
He was back on the platform, surrounded by disciples, runes, Mei Suyao's calm aura, the roar of the crowd.
He swallowed, throat dry.
"Deity Jikong," someone nearby greeted carefully.
He nodded automatically, face still cold, but his thoughts lingered on that single, infuriatingly relaxed smile.
Only he seemed to have noticed anything.
Ling Feng, meanwhile, had already looked away.
He drifted toward Mei Suyao and Ye Chuyun, his own girls naturally shifting to give them space without needing a word.
"Mei Suyao," he greeted. "Ye Chuyun."
Mei Suyao's Immortal Soulbone glowed faintly under her skin.
"Young Noble Ling," she replied, eyes sweeping over the surrounding banners. "Today's gathering will be… lively."
"Mm." He glanced at the glowing portal runes. "Lots of people digging for fortune. Lots of people convinced they're the center of the world."
Ye Chuyun smiled, eyes curving.
"Is Young Noble Ling not one of them?" she asked lightly.
"Me?" He blinked, then laughed. "I'm just here to steal a few things and maybe cheat the World Tree out of some secrets. Being the center of the world sounds more troublesome than you think. Too much annoying work."
"You dislike official duties that much?" Mei Suyao asked.
He simply said "Just not my style. I can't explore the Dao sitting in one place, right? I'd rather move."
Ye Chuyun's gaze softened.
"That," she said quietly, "I can understand."
He looked between the two of them.
"You both planning to enter with your own groups?" he asked. "Or are you coming with me?"
Mei Suyao raised an elegant brow.
"Is that an invitation?" she asked.
"Of course." His tone was as natural as breathing. "Timeless Portal is big, but danger is bigger. With your Immortal Bone, my… special abilities, and my girls' assorted talents, we can peel more layers off the World Tree without wasting time. Why split up?"
He lowered his voice slightly, though everyone within a certain range could still hear if they strained.
"Also," he added, eyes amused, "if you two go in with someone else and something happens, I'll look like a deadbeat. I have a reputation to maintain."
Ye Chuyun laughed softly behind her hand.
Mei Suyao's gaze deepened. Even she had to admit: walking beside him would be… interesting.
"You are not afraid Eternal River and Pure Lotus will worry their disciples will be… abducted?" she asked.
He shrugged.
"If they want to complain, they can line up behind Azure Mysterious and Brilliance," he said. "I'll listen when I'm free."
A soft, involuntary sound escaped Ye Chuyun's throat—a half-suppressed giggle.
On the periphery, distant gazes sharpened.
Somewhere on a floating platform, an Eternal River ancestor watched through a water mirror, fingers tightening slightly on the armrest.
In Pure Lotus, an old monk opened his eyes from meditation, a lotus petal falling soundlessly into the pond.
Even so, neither moved to stop it.
Her Immortal Soulbone flickered again, faster this time. In an instant, Mei Suyao calculated countless possible outcomes—paths where she walked alone, paths where she entered with her own sect, paths where she walked beside this unreasonable youth whose dao did not sit under the Heaven's Will's thumb.
Risk. Fortune.
The answer was clear.
"I will join your group," she said at last. "Eternal River School trusts my judgment."
Ye Chuyun's answer was simpler.
"I also want to see how far you can go inside," she said, eyes bright with a mixture of curiosity and trust. "And… I trust you."
Ling Feng's smile turned a shade softer.
"Good," he said. "Then today, we dig together."