Futile Devices Scans

Black Feather followed Wenren Li’s gaze. He saw Chen Yixin appear soundlessly behind one of the three Golden Core cultivators. A round mass of blue flames came crashing down from above, and the Golden Core cultivator let out a miserable scream as his entire body was engulfed in the blue fire.

Chen Yixin stepped lightly backward. The other two turned around to look for him but could not find him—just as the Purple Cloud Divine Tribulation descended with a thunderous strike.

With three additional Golden Core True Persons, the Purple Cloud Divine Tribulation indeed became more powerful—but that did not mean Chen Yixin himself had to bear it all. Relying on the footwork of the Burning Heaven Dance, he moved freely through the storm, occasionally hurling blue flames at his enemies in retaliation.

“How foolish,” Black Feather remarked with a sigh, glancing toward Yun Zhenzi. Yun Zhenzi revealed not the slightest flaw, perfectly composed. Black Feather clicked his tongue, finding it dull—far less interesting than their demon consort.

Chen Yixin weaved through the thunderclouds. Though he could not entirely avoid the lightning tribulation, compared to the others who could only wail under its strikes, he moved with ease—advancing and retreating gracefully, his bearing elegant.

“Form a formation!” roared the Golden Core True Person whose head had been smashed open earlier, his robes stained with blood. The other two gathered beside him, forming a Three Talents Formation, capable of both offense and defense, to resist Chen Yixin together.

They intended to take Chen Yixin’s life before the residual power of the tribulation faded. Their confidence stemmed not only from their own aptitude—insufficient to trigger a fatal tribulation—but also from protective treasures bestowed upon them. Thus, they dared to act so boldly.

But being struck by Chen Yixin’s blue flames and lightning—those pains were very real.

“Who told you the tribulation is about to end?” Chen Yixin shifted his steps again, appearing above them. He tossed three Duoduo Fruits into his mouth in quick succession. Spiritual light surged around him—he was about to break through to the second layer of Golden Core.

The Purple Cloud Divine Tribulation gathered once more, its might now more than twice as terrifying as before.

“You came and still think to leave? Who do you take this one for?” Chen Yi Xin raised his gaze. Without waiting for an answer, he declared,

“This one is the companion of Demon Lord Li Kui, the Demon Consort of the Li Kui Demon Palace.”

Even in the past, he had never been one to be easily bullied—let alone now.

“This one was not forced into the demonic path… I chose willingly… to fall into demonic cultivation.”

As his words fell, thunder roared through the Purple Clouds. Such defiance of heaven was unbearable to some—his willing fall into demonic ways rendered their past actions nothing more than aiding him.

“This kind of… abomination…” Miaoyin had barely spoken when she felt numerous warning gazes directed at her. The suffocating pressure nearly made her cough up blood.

Those gazes came not only from the demonic faction, but also from the Immortal Dao Ten Sects on her own side. Conflict was imminent—but it could not be ignited in such a manner.

“For someone over a thousand years old, your mouth is quite foul,” Black Feather mocked bluntly. What he thought was a whisper carried loudly enough for even distant low- and mid-level cultivators to hear.

Miaoyin’s face flushed red. She turned her head, but Black Feather quickly stepped closer to Wenren Li. Before her gaze could reach them, she withdrew it in fear. Though all were at the Soul Transformation realm, the gap between them and Wenren Li was immense.

While words clashed outside, within the thunderclouds, Chen Yixin began his slaughter.

Amid the descending divine lightning, he broke through the Three Talents Formation in an instant. His sleeve extended, wrapping one cultivator and dragging him close. Tilting his head, Chen Yixin smiled lightly. In that fleeting moment of distraction, his hand shot from his sleeve, plunging directly into the man’s dantian, while his other hand covered his head with blue flames.

Golden Core shattered, sea of consciousness destroyed. The cultivator—who had trained for centuries—was utterly dead.

Chen Yixin released him. The corpse was tossed aside and struck by lightning, reduced to charred ash.

Looking at the blood on his hands, Chen Yixin frowned slightly in distaste. The other two, having just regained their senses from the tribulation, saw what had happened and roared in fury:

“Elder Brother! Heart-Slaying Perfected One, you will die without a proper end!”

“Hahaha!” Chen Yixin laughed loudly. After a long moment, he stopped, his expression filled with clear mockery.

“You came to kill me. I kill you. And I’m in the wrong? I’ll spare you the trouble—I’ll send you to reunite with your brother soon.”

With a thunderous boom, lightning descended—far more powerful than before. This was the might of a Nascent Soul tribulation. The blue flames above Chen Yixin dimmed, nearly extinguished. His expression darkened slightly—but his advance did not falter.

Bang! Bang!

The two Golden Core True Persons’ heads were smashed into pulp. Chen Yixin paused, vanished, and reappeared at the very center beneath the thunderclouds.

Wiping the blood from his lips, his expression was cold and merciless.

“When I say I will kill, I kill. I am not one who breaks my word.”

Having endured two tribulations in succession and slain three opponents—while even a Nascent Soul True Lord had intruded into the tribulation—Chen Yixin’s condition was far from good. Yet to the watching powerhouses, admiration could not be denied.

Both the Immortal and Demonic factions flushed slightly. Black Feather and the others admired Chen Yixin’s boldness, while Yun Zhenzi’s side felt mocked by his words.

If Chen Yixin were of the same generation, such words might be acceptable—but he was barely over a hundred years old, only at Golden Core, yet dared to speak so provocatively. It left them deeply embarrassed.

“The Demon Consort has quite the temperament.”

Black Feather stroked his sparse beard, speaking ingratiatingly to Wenren Li.

Wenren Li’s gaze never left Chen Yixin. His hand, hidden within his sleeve, clenched unconsciously. Though his expression remained calm, he was far from it within. Yet he knew—unless absolutely necessary, he should not intervene. This was a trial Chen Yixin must face to grow.

“A-Rong is very good,” Wenren Li said softly, a fleeting warmth passing through his eyes.

Black Feather did not need to read his gaze—those words alone were enough for them to understand.

Chen Yixin had plainly stated that he came to the Demon Palace “of his own free will.” As for their Demon Lord Wenren Li, he had likely already fallen deeply in love with him long before.

Black Feather shook his head inwardly with a sigh, feeling as though he had been forcefully subjected to a display of affection.

Yet Chen Yixin’s crisis was not over. Under the Purple Cloud Divine Tribulation, the three Golden Core True Persons had failed to subdue him, and now a Nascent Soul cultivator had entered the tribulation as well. This was no longer a tribulation Chen Yixin  could withstand with such ease.

Chen Yixin tossed another DuoduoFruit into his mouth. He no longer attempted to locate the Nascent Soul True Lord within the tribulation, focusing instead on resisting the Purple Cloud Divine Thunder with all his strength.

The blue flames above his head flared once more. Time and again, they were nearly extinguished by the divine thunder, only to reignite each time—each resurgence brighter and more intense than before. This, aside from his cultivation breakthrough, was Chen Yixin’s greatest gain from this tribulation.

Yun Zhenzi, Miaoyin, and the others grew more solemn. They had not expected Chen Yixin to possess so many Duoduo Fruits. With each strike of divine thunder, he consumed one, instantly restoring his spiritual power. Even this Nascent Soul–level tribulation—Chen Yixin might truly survive it.

“Oh my, which of you old fellows plans to go down this time?”

Black Feather’s tone was exaggerated, clearly relishing the spectacle. Yet none of them responded. Or rather, they were all waiting for an opportunity to act—but not in such an openly reckless manner that would invite disaster upon themselves.

At that moment, Wenren Li lifted his foot and began walking toward the Purple Cloud Divine Tribulation. Black Feather’s mouth fell open, nearly unable to close.

“Demon Lord…” He had only meant to provoke and mock the Immortal Dao side—he had not intended to spur this senior into action. Though compared to Wenren Li, they were all but children…

Wenren Li had no intention of undergoing tribulation within the Burning Heaven Nether Palace; otherwise, this secret realm would cease to exist. As he stepped forward, his black hair gradually shifted from the roots into a deep emerald hue, his pupils changing in the same way.

By the time he reached Chen Yixin, the transformation was complete. He lifted his gaze toward the sky and, with a light wave of his hand, dispersed the purple thunderclouds entirely.

He slowly crouched down, carefully examining Chen Yixin’s barely concealed exhaustion. The tenderness in his eyes could not be hidden.

“I have come to take A-Rong home.”

Unlike a hundred years ago, this time he did not break his promise. He had waited here for Chen Yixin—only to take him home, to their home.

Chen Yixin slowly opened his eyes. For a brief moment, he was dazzled by the person before him, his heart betraying him with a rapid beat.

“A-Li,” Chen Yixin called softly. Then he grabbed Wenren Li’s collar, pulling him closer. Tilting his chin upward, he pressed a kiss to Wenren Li’s lips.

“A-Li, I missed you.”

The little sapling had also been Wenren Li, but that alone had never been enough for Chen Yixin.

What he had truly come to love was Wenren Li—who had spent ten years with him day and night in that strange land, who had cared for him with utmost devotion in the Demon Palace, who stood before him now—the Wenren Li he could hold, kiss, and draw close to.

Wenren Li gently cupped Chen Yixin’s face. A faint flush appeared on his features as he nodded seriously.

“I missed A-Rong as well.”

His spiritual form had accompanied Chen Yixin, and to him there was no difference. Yet during these days of tribulation, he could only watch from afar. Chen Yixin’s words stirred all the longing and concern from that separation.

Chen Yixin narrowed his eyes slightly, then broke into a brilliant smile. He wrapped his arms around Wenren Li’s neck, allowing himself to be lifted.

“With A-Li carrying me, I won’t need to waste another Duoduo Fruit.”

As he spoke, he leaned forward and kissed Wenren Li’s cheek again, feeling rather pleased with his own thriftiness.

Wenren Li naturally had no objection. He lifted Chen Yixin, but did not leave immediately. Instead, he stepped into the air. A tear opened in the void, and a black figure fell out. Wenren Li’s gaze sharpened slightly, and the figure instantly dissolved into nothingness.

“No wonder I couldn’t find him…” Chen Yixin muttered, eyeing the spot where the figure had been torn apart. He bore grudges deeply—despite his exhaustion, he had already been considering how to trap that Nascent Soul True Lord within the tribulation.

“Merely a Nascent Soul clone,” Wenren Li said.

He stepped forward again, but instead of returning to Black Feather and the others, he entered the central palace once more—while everyone else was still stunned by their intimacy.

Chen Yixin paid no attention to anyone else. After leaning against Wenren Li for a moment, he suddenly remembered an important question.

“A-Li, why are you unaffected by the tribulation?”

As he spoke, he reached up to touch Wenren Li’s hair, suspecting it had something to do with his spiritual form—the little sapling.

“My spiritual form is not ordinary vegetation—it is not bound by the rules.”

Thus, his sapling could accompany Chen Yixin into the central palace, and he himself could act through it without being affected by the Purple Cloud Divine Thunder.

“Oh,” Chen Yi xin responded. He tilted his head and placed another kiss on Wenren Li’s cheek, then began teasing him in earnest.

“A-Li looks good like this too.”

Like a bewitching spirit—so alluring it melted his heart.

Wenren Li turned his head slightly. Meeting those clear, untainted eyes, Chen Yixin’s thoughts faltered, a strange sense of guilt rising.

“A-Li, I wasn’t thinking anything improper…”

Wenren Li—who truly had not been thinking anything improper—felt his throat tighten slightly. He glanced at Chen Yixin again, his voice lowering, softer and gentler.

“A-Rong, endure a little longer.”

“Hmph,” Chen Yixin snorted lightly, kicking his legs.

Wenren Li showed a trace of confusion, but still followed his intention and set him down.

“Why did we come back here?”

Chen Yixin looked around the great hall where he had stayed for ten years… no—counting the time from a hundred years ago, twenty years in total. Yet he felt no attachment. Outside, he could already hear the Soul Transformation powerhouses attempting once again to break in.

He had already obtained the full inheritance here. The hall’s power had faded by half. Before long, they would break in—it was only a matter of time.

Wenren Li did not answer. He stepped forward, took Chen Yixin’s hand into his own, and extended root-like tendrils from his feet across the hall.

“Come out.”

Chen Yixin moved closer, slipping another Duoduo Fruit into his mouth, becoming instantly alert. But after Wenren Li spoke, a faint, flickering shadow rolled out from a cracked statue—on the verge of dispersing at any moment.

“Demon Lord, spare me. This soul has only just awakened and did not intentionally hide.”

The shadow took the form of an old white-haired man, barely half a person tall. He knelt low, appearing even smaller.

He then raised his gaze toward Chen Yixin. Moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes as he bowed again.

“This old servant greets the Master .”

Chen Yixin did not respond. He looked toward Wenren Li. Without Wenren Li bringing him back, he would never have noticed any presence here besides himself and the sapling.

“It is the palace spirit of the Burning Heaven Nether Palace. It is only proper for it to call you Master.”

Chen Yixin had inherited the Burning Heaven Six Arts, making him the rightful successor.

This palace was said to have fallen from the Upper Realm. For it to retain anything at all after descending to the lower Taixuan cultivation world, was already remarkable. Its current pitiful state was understandable.

Chen Yixin nodded, then lifted his hand—still clasped with Wenren Li’s—and showed it to the spirit.

“I am your master. He is my Dao companion—also your master. Remember that.”

“Yes, this old servant remembers.”

The palace spirit bowed again to both of them, then transformed into a streak of light that wrapped around Chen Yixin’s right thumb, forming an ancient, cracked dark-red ring.

At the same time, fragments of information flowed into his sea of consciousness—layouts, formations, mechanisms, and incomplete records of the palace.

“So shabby…” Chen Yixin muttered in disdain.

“It doesn’t matter. We will repair it slowly,” Wenren Li said, drawing him closer. With a slight motion of his fingers, the six statues lost their features entirely. In the next instant, their surroundings shifted—they were no longer in the hall.

With a thunderous crash, the once-intact central palace of the Burning Heaven Nether Palace was destroyed by over a dozen powerhouses.

“Which sects were they from, A-Li? Remember them—we’ll visit their private treasuries one by one later.”

After all, destroying their palace required compensation.

Chen Yixin buried his face in Wenren Li’s neck, still fuming. After a few breaths, Wenren Li’s hair and eyes returned to their normal black, his aura fully restored to that of a Soul Transformation powerhouse.

“Good. We should go,” Wenren Li nodded.

They both had their eyes on those powerhouses’ treasure vaults.

Chen Yixin glanced around. The area they had arrived in was remote and desolate—few cultivators of any level remained. The palace had been too thoroughly destroyed, fragmented into unrecognizable sections.

But he did not ask further. Leaning against Wenren Li, his anger gradually faded. A smile slowly curved on his lips as he nuzzled into Wenren Li’s neck again.

“When I’m with A-Li, I always end up smiling.”

Not the habitual, mask-like smile—but one that came from the heart.

“A-Rong looks beautiful when he smiles,” Wenren Li said, tilting his head to kiss Chen Yixin’s brow. After a moment’s thought, he added softly,

“I love seeing A-Rong smile.”

Chen Yixin lifted his gaze, both shy and pleased. Leaning close to Wenren Li’s ear, he parted his lips—but instead of speaking, he first took Wenren Li’s earlobe between his lips, teasing before finally letting go.

“I also love seeing A-Li bloom for me…”

When Wenren Li was happy, all the flora around him would grow wildly—a unique expression of joy that Chen Yixin adored.

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