Futile Devices Scans

“Divine Son, please forgive our offenses.”

Han Zichuang still did not rise, as if he would only stand once Chen Yixin was satisfied.

Chen Yixin looked at them, lightly tapping the ground with his toe as if still considering. His gaze dropped to Wenren Li’s head, then lifted again as he asked, “If I am the Divine Son, then A-Li would be the Divine Son’s dao companion. Do you acknowledge this?”

Even if he became the Divine Son, he would still marry Wenren Li—this was the premise. It had to be made clear first. Otherwise, no matter how long Han Zichuang knelt, Chen Yixin would not acknowledge it—and it wouldn’t be his knees or pride suffering anyway.

Before Han Zichuang and the others could respond, Wenren Li felt warmth in his heart. He turned his head, only for his cheek to be immediately nibbled by Chen Yixin. “Right, and also my Young Master Xiao Hua.”

Han Zichuang and Peng Jing showed little reaction, but Mingyue and Tianyang, whose cultivation was clearly lower, visibly hesitated.

“But Grandmaster once divined for Master… the Divine Son and you…”

Before Mingyue could finish, Han Zichuang sealed his speech.

The former sect master had once divined that Han Zichuang would face a romantic tribulation. When Han Zichuang calculated it himself, it pointed to Chen Yixin of the Jade Cauldron Sect. But from the moment he stepped onto the path of cultivation, he chose to dedicate himself to the Dao and sever worldly emotions. He secluded himself for a hundred years to avoid this tribulation—that was his choice.

Now, whether Chen Yixin was the Divine Son or had formed a bond with someone else, bringing this up again would only be inappropriate.

“I only want one answer—acknowledge it or not?”

Chen Yixin didn’t care about any prophecy. Even the Heavenly Dao had warned him more than once. If anyone dared to meddle with his fate again, then even if he restored the path of immortality in the future, he might not grant these people any benefit.

“Divine Son, rest assured. Whoever you acknowledge, the Heaven’s Secret Sect will also acknowledge.”

Han Zichuang slowly rose as he spoke. Raising both hands, a tray appeared, covered with a red cloth. He walked step by step toward Chen Yixin. “This is an item you left with the Heaven’s Secret Sect. Today, it is returned to its rightful owner.”

With a flick of Chen Yixin’s finger, the red cloth fell away. On the tray was a sealed sword spirit. It was likely the spirit of his sword from the Upper Realm. Wenren Li had long been searching for Ice Spirit and Nether Moon Soul, intending to personally forge a sword for him—already the best materials Taixuan could offer. Yet even those could not compare to this sword spirit from the Upper Realm.

As Chen Yixin examined it, Wenren Li also looked on. But before Han Zichuang could approach, a flash of blue light appeared—the sword spirit vanished, becoming nourishment for the slumbering Yinzi.

“My sword already exists. Let it remain for now.” This was said for Han Zichuang. If he knew Chen Yixin had fed it to Yinzi, his expression would likely be far worse than it was now.

“Come here,” Chen Yixin beckoned—to Mingyue and Tianyang. They stepped forward without hesitation, bringing their testing artifacts with them.

Chen Yixin knew Yun Yazi and the others still harbored doubts. Their expressions were unpleasant, but not yet at their worst. Since he had exposed Jing Zhihua as a fake Divine Son, he wasn’t afraid to confirm his own identity as the true one. That would be the real shock—and the true despair.

In Mingyue and Tianyang’s hands were two ancient-looking copper coins, so plain they seemed ordinary. Chen Yixin opened his palm, and they placed the coins into it.

He clenched them. A stream of light flowed across his body, and a divine radiance shot into the sky. The aura released by the coins forced Mingyue and Tianyang to stagger back several steps—but even more extraordinary was the divine light enveloping Chen Yixin.

Even Jing Zhihua’s test ten years ago had never displayed such grandeur. He had only caused the coins to emit immortal light continuously—not awakened their true form as now.

Wenren Li blinked as he was held in Chen Yixin’s arms. Just as he focused on the coins, a pale silver beam suddenly erupted. Including Han Zichuang, everyone was forced to retreat, their eyes unable to open under the blinding light.

Wenren Li’s true form emerged. His arm still wrapped around Chen Yixin’s waist as their gazes fell upon the coins together.

An image appeared upon them—likely the scene of their very first meeting. A small fledgling bird pecked a black seed from a pool of dark water, then flew off through the air.

The image shifted again. The fledgling seemed to have swallowed the seed but couldn’t digest it, retching repeatedly until it finally spat it out. It glared at the seed in grievance, then rubbed its fluffy face against it, as if apologizing.

The following scenes became blurred—both Chen Yixin and Wenren Li could no longer see clearly. Soon after, the coins fell back into their palms, the divine light vanished, and Wenren Li shrank again, returning to Chen Yixin’s arms.

To Han Zichuang and the others, the entire process seemed fleeting—like closing and reopening their eyes. Everything returned to calm. Chen Yixin still stood holding Wenren Li. They saw neither the images nor Wenren Li’s true form.

But one thing was certain in the eyes of the Heaven’s Secret Sect—this child carried the Divine Son’s bloodline. Otherwise, such dazzling divine light would not have appeared.

From the sect master down to the youngest disciples, the Heaven’s Secret Sect showed sincere reverence toward Chen Yixin. In contrast, the Jade Cauldron Sect stood at a loss, unsure how to react. Their faces burned, disbelief mingling with reality—but if even what they had witnessed firsthand could not be trusted, what could?

“How… how could this be…” Yun Yazi, who refused to accept fate, seemed to age instantly. Facing Chen Yixin’s gaze, he staggered backward, whether from disbelief or fear, it was unclear.

Once, he had been the closest to the Divine Son. Yet through a single wrong decision, he had pushed his own “Divine Son” disciple into opposition. Perhaps only Yun Zhenzi could understand his turmoil—he had taken pride in the Divine Son’s presence in the sect, only to drive away the true one because of a fake.

Ironic. Truly the greatest irony.

Chen Yixin offered no further mockery—but that absence hurt them more than any words. It meant there was no longer any possibility of reconciliation.

“Now, I want Zhou Yan. Will you still protect him?”

“No, no, no…” Yun Zhenzi shook his head frantically. His expression twisted grotesquely, almost feral. But at this moment, everyone in the Jade Cauldron Sect was too shaken to care about the sect master’s appearance.

“He’s at Ice Snow Peak. He has activated the formation to seal Luxin Palace. I’ll go capture him now.”

After hearing the elder’s report, Yun Zhenzi relayed this to Chen Yixin.

“Then let’s go take a look,” Chen Yixin said, glancing at the sect gate. In his original plan, he had not intended to revisit Ice Snow Peak—not out of fear of old memories, but because those things no longer held meaning for him.

He stepped forward, then paused, suddenly turning back to look at Jing Zhihua—who stood there nearly forgotten, his expression bordering on madness.

“You… you’re going to kill me?” Jing Zhihua almost collapsed onto the ground. He shook his head. “No, I am the Divine Son—you’ve made a mistake. I am the Divine Son…”

“Yixin, Yixin, don’t kill me. I won’t dare anymore. I’ll never dare again.”

“You don’t have a future anymore,” Chen Yixin said. Holding Wenren Li in one arm, he walked forward step by step. The crowd parted for him, and under their widening gazes, he waved his right hand—blue flames engulfed Jing Zhihua entirely.

“Ahhh—Chen Yixin, I curse you! I curse you and Wenren Li to never—”

Before he could finish, Chen Yixin clenched his hand. An invisible force crushed Jing Zhihua’s head into fragments. At that moment, a wisp of gray smoke seeped out, wrapping around the blue flames as it attempted to invade Chen Yixin’s sea of consciousness. Wenren Li’s gaze sharpened—the Nether Soul Armor that he had once given Chen Yixin appeared, blocking the gray smoke. At the same time, this high-grade armor was annihilated along with the smoke.

“An ancient curse technique!” Han Zichuang appeared beside Chen Yixin. He had been about to act as well and recognized the terrifying nature of the gray smoke. With the label “ancient,” if things went wrong, Chen Yixin could have perished midway, spared only from further suffering.

“Nether Soul Armor…” Han Zichuang also identified the object that had shielded Chen Yixin. He bowed slightly and stepped back, though he did not leave.

He had grown wary of Zhou Yan—the one Chen Yixin had insisted on capturing. A curse even he had failed to detect beforehand on Jing Zhihua must be connected to Zhou Yan, who had once colluded with him to frame Chen Yixin.

“It’s broken,” Chen Yixin said, somewhat regretful about the Nether Soul Armor Wenren Li had given him. He hadn’t even had time to nurture it before it perished together with the curse.

“It’s fine. On the way back, we’ll visit the Chaotic Demon Ghost Domain again. I’ll choose another for A-Rong,” Wenren Li said, gently rubbing Chen Yixin’s hair, soothing him with his spiritual sense. But he knew Chen Yixin was already angered.

Chen Yixin gave no reply. Still holding Wenren Li with one arm, the blue flame in his right hand transformed into a blue sword. Entering the Jade Cauldron Sect alongside them were a thousand demon guards led by Nan Ke.

Whoever tried to stop him from killing Zhou Yan—he would kill them. “Die without a good end”? Even if fate decreed it, he would overturn destiny itself—let alone a curse from a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator.

“Senior Brother… we were all wrong…” Yun Zhenzi’s expression completely collapsed after saying this. Chen Yixin was the true Divine Son—they had been wrong from ten years ago, and now they were catastrophically wrong.

Yun Yazi’s face was ashen. He had clearly heard Yun Zhenzi’s words, yet gave no response. Following behind the demon guards, he still did not dare approach Chen Yixin any closer.

Unwilling, yet ashamed—that was his state of mind.

The path from the sect gate to Ice Snow Peak was one Chen Yixin had walked countless times. Compared to flying on a sword, he had always preferred strolling—taking in mountains, rivers, flowers, and people along the way.

But his mood had changed. What once seemed interesting could no longer catch his eye.

Wenren Li had no mood to admire the Jade Cauldron Sect either. Leaning against Chen Yixin’s shoulder, he closed his eyes, his divine sense sweeping across the sect. “Northwest direction.”

Without hesitation, Chen Yixin hurled out a mass of blue flame. Others saw only ashes and a strip of torn cloth.

“What divine decree, what oracle… nothing but inviting wolves into the house.”

Chen Yixin’s sarcasm spared no one. In his view, the presence of people like Zhou Yan within the Jade Cauldron Sect was due to the so-called decree left by their ancestor and the various prophecies of the Heaven’s Secret Sect.

They thought they had kept it well hidden—but nothing remains secret forever. It was only a matter of time.

Han Zichuang and Yun Zhenzi both lowered their heads under his words. Clearly, from the current situation, Chen Yixin was entirely correct. Perhaps some leak on their part had allowed those targeting the Divine Son to infiltrate the sect long ago.

“Should we take Young Master off your hands…” Peng Jing began, but before he could finish, he met Wenren Li’s gaze. A chill ran through him, and he fell back a step, not daring to continue. Chen Yixin simply ignored him.

When he killed Jing Zhihua, he had held Wenren Li with one arm. Now, going to kill Zhou Yan, it would be the same. Chen Yixin did not trust anyone else with Wenren Li—and Wenren Li trusted no one else either.

They continued toward Ice Snow Peak. At some point, Yun Yazi moved beside Han Zichuang. Han Zichuang glanced at him but did not speak first. Yun Yazi, however, had no intention of letting him off.

“This was your doing!”

“Fellow Daoist, I may have misled you—but every choice was still yours,” Han Zichuang replied calmly, though his heart was anything but.

Over a hundred years ago, he had gone to the North Sea to test fate—and he truly met Chen Yixin. Within his calculations, Chen Yixin had already given his heart mistakenly.

After a century of seclusion, he thought he had overcome it. But upon seeing Chen Yixin again, he realized he had overestimated himself.

Now, the course of events had been thrown completely off since a hundred years ago. Having lost clarity of heart, he could no longer discern the secrets of heaven. As for the future, he was no different from Yun Yazi and the others.

“You were the one who passed the so-called aura of the Divine Son to me—and you say it was my choice?”

If not for that crucial clue Han Zichuang gave him, he would not have harbored malicious intent at that time. At most, he would have concealed the fact that Wenren Li had not died. There would never have been a false Divine Son.

Without that false Divine Son misleading him, discovering Chen Yixin’s true identity would have only been a matter of time.

But he had believed in the Heaven’s Secret Sect, believed in Han Zichuang. That led Chen Yixin to find Jing Zhihua’s soul, making him believe Jing Zhihua was the Divine Son he had sought. One wrong step led to countless others, until everything became irreversible.

He bore fault—but Han Zichuang was the beginning of it all. If not for his caution toward the Heaven’s Secret Sect, he would have crushed Han Zichuang to vent his anger.

Han Zichuang pressed his lips together, glanced at Yun Yazi, and chose not to respond further.

But if he could go back, would he still decisively sever the fate that should have belonged to him and Chen Yixin?

Their exchange was conducted entirely through divine sense—even Wenren Li could not detect it, nor did he know Han Zichuang’s involvement in past events.

They arrived at the foot of Ice Snow Peak—towering into the clouds, with perpetual snow above the mountainside. Luxin Palace was constructed from a special kind of ice jade, shimmering with spiritual light like an immortal realm.

Chen Yixin did not walk. Holding Wenren Li, he flew directly to the summit. Meanwhile, the demon guards spread out, sealing every inch of Ice Snow Peak—sky and earth alike. If Zhou Yan was here, he would have no escape.

“Zhou Yan, I’m here.”

Chen Yixin descended from the air. When he called out, he knew Zhou Yan had deliberately hidden inside Luxin Palace—not because it was particularly safe, but because he wanted Chen Yixin to come here. Zhou Yan had something to say to him.

Zhou Yan’s true body remained inside Luxin Palace, but outside it, an ice mirror appeared, reflecting his projection.

“Yi’er is back.”

Chen Yixin had originally intended to speak calmly, but at that first sentence, he couldn’t hold back. With a wave of his hand, the ice mirror shattered. He flicked his sleeve in disgust. “That’s revolting.”

“Zhou Yan, I came to kill you.” Only by stating it this bluntly would Zhou Yan speak like a proper person.

“Yi… Yixin, you really haven’t changed at all,” Zhou Yan said as he stepped out from the gates of Luxin Palace. Dressed in a green robe, just as he had been when Chen Yixin first met him.

Chen Yixin narrowed his eyes slightly but did not move. “Why would I change? I am who I am.”

A trace of sorrow appeared on Zhou Yan’s face, then quickly vanished. He sighed softly. “I raised you for ten years, yet the first time you left the sect, you fell for someone else.”

And it was the kind of love that would last until death. During those ten years he accompanied Chen Yixin in the Burning Heaven Nether Palace, he had already seen that clearly.

Chen Yixin was someone who followed his heart stubbornly. Once he loved someone—his A-Hua—it was impossible for him to love anyone else. No matter how much companionship Zhou Yan gave, it was meaningless. Even if Chen Yixin suffered heartbreak, he would never change because of it.

“You’re not about to tell me you like me, are you?” Chen Yixin asked. His hold on Wenren Li tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing as a trace of killing intent surfaced, though he still made no move.

“I don’t know. Before I could figure out whether I liked you or not… I died.”

Hearing this, Chen Yixin showed no surprise. He had already realized that the Zhou Yan before him was a dead man. What spoke now was merely a lingering obsession left within this body.

“That’s good. The one who truly treated me sincerely was Zhou Yan—not the… monster that came later.”

The word “monster” was not mockery, but a statement of fact. Zhou Yan’s body had become a vessel for a mass of spiritual consciousness, and Zhou Yan himself was only one fragment among the tangled whole.

“In this world, only Yi’er can deliver me. Come,” Zhou Yan said, opening his arms and closing his eyes, as if waiting for death.

Before Chen Yixin could act, Wenren Li nudged him with his foot. Chen Yixin glanced at him and set him down.

“What is Xiao Hua doing?”

After landing, Wenren Li still held Chen Yixin’s hand. With a wave toward Zhou Yan, a mass of chaotic soul essence was forcibly expelled from Zhou Yan’s body. Then, forming several hand seals, he extracted Zhou Yan’s soul from that mass.

Zhou Yan clearly hadn’t expected Wenren Li to possess such ability. The separated soul fragments began to collapse, then surged back toward Zhou Yan’s soul. Only then did Wenren Li speak, “Lies.”

Zhou Yan had not become this monster by force—he had chosen it himself. Only by his own will could things reach this state. Those soul fragments had no consciousness; Zhou Yan was always the one controlling them.

Even now, he was trying to use emotions to make Chen Yixin spare him—perhaps even protect him into reincarnation. After everything he had done, how could a few words erase it?

Wenren Li did not stop the chaotic soul mass from returning to Zhou Yan’s body, but he moved closer to Chen Yixin. Holding him wasn’t enough—he wrapped himself around Chen Yixin’s leg, while Chen Yixin’s hand rested atop his head. A faint smile appeared on Chen Yixin’s lips, gentle to the extreme.

Being protected by the one he loved felt… really good. But he wasn’t that easy to fool.

“Who are you? Who are you?” Zhou Yan stared at Wenren Li in terror. Then he sucked in a breath, his voice turning eerie. “Lord Li, you are Lord Li!”

“No… not that, you are—”

Before he could finish, a thunderbolt struck down, drowning out his words entirely. This bolt was even more powerful than any previous heavenly warning Chen Yixin had faced. Whatever Zhou Yan knew, it was significant.

Chen Yixin didn’t even have time to act. The pure yang energy within that thunderbolt had already blasted Zhou Yan into fragments.

His soul was exposed again, lunging forward as if to drag Chen Yixin and Wenren Li down with him.

But before it could reach them, a wall of blue flame rose up, blocking it. With a single touch, it ignited, crackling as it burned everything—Zhou Yan’s soul included—completely to nothing.

“Is it burned clean?” Chen Yixin asked, turning his head toward Wenren Li. At the same time, he bent down and scooped him back into his arms. Without holding Wenren Li, he felt strangely unsettled.

“It’s clean within the Jade Cauldron Sect… but in Taixuan… there should still be many more.”

The sharp coldness in Wenren Li’s silver eyes gradually faded as he leaned against Chen Yixin’s shoulder. “From now on, I’ll have to rely on A-Rong to protect me.”

Among his three bodies, his soul form was currently the weakest, making it vulnerable to such things. But Chen Yixin’s divine flame was their absolute bane. Wenren Li was not wrong—by Chen Yixin’s side, the safer one was actually him.

“I will of course protect my Xiao Hua,” Chen Yixin said. He tilted his head and kissed Wenren Li on the cheek. He glanced once at Luxin Palace but had no intention of entering. The blue flames continued to spread from beneath his feet, igniting even Luxin Palace, which was least susceptible to fire.

Whether he would live here again or not, it could no longer remain for the Jade Cauldron Sect. As for whether Zhou Yan had left him information inside or set up traps, it didn’t matter—burn it all in one blaze, and everything would be settled at once.

Han Zichuang and the others, alarmed by the heavenly thunder, no longer cared about the obstruction of the demon guards and rushed up the mountain, only to see a sea of fire—and Chen Yixin standing with his back to them, holding Wenren Li.

Chen Yixin pressed Wenren Li’s head back against his neck. Such an adorable Wenren Li—he was unwilling to let too many people see him. Holding him like this, he turned around and walked down the mountain without sparing anyone a glance.

He did not look at Han Zichuang, and naturally did not look at Yun Yazi, who seemed hesitant to speak. He could not forgive Zhou Yan and Jing Zhihua for betraying him, so how could he possibly forgive this master who had resorted to any means for the sake of longevity?

And by burning Luxin Palace, he had already made his stance clear. From this day on, the Jade Cauldron Sect would no longer have a “Master Luxin.”

Zhou Yan’s matter was not truly over, but in the short term they could not find more clues. Wenren Li even suspected that Taixuan becoming a forsaken land was related to Zhou Yan’s strange nature, and to the strange demons that had appeared at their wedding.

“Where are we going now?”

Wenren Li wrapped his arms around Chen Yixin’s neck and asked softly. He could tell Chen Yixin did not want to return directly to the Demon Palace in the Southern Domain. His state of mind was not as calm as he appeared.

After thinking for a moment, Chen Yixin replied, “Back to Zhenhai. We’ll visit a grave, then return to the Southern Domain. I also need to find that old man about something.”

Back then, the Zhenhai Chen clan had married him off to the Li Kui Demon Palace, and he had not resented it. Now, even less so. But there were doubts in his heart that required answers. He feared that if he went too late, it would already be too late.

“Xiao Hua, don’t worry. Wherever I go, I’ll take you with me.”

Because Wenren Li was by his side, he was not in a hurry to return to the Demon Palace. As he spoke, he rubbed Wenren Li’s overly serious little face, a faint smile curving his lips. “I’m not sad. Cause and effect—just a bit of reflection, that’s all.”

“Mm, I’ll stay with A-Rong.”

Wenren Li’s hand also came up to stroke Chen Yixin’s hair, pulling him closer into an embrace.

“Demon Consort… you’re leaving just like this?”

Yun Zhenzi seemed to have already abandoned any concern for dignity. Blocking the path out of the sect, he clearly wanted to salvage something, but after stammering out the question, he didn’t know what else to say.

Chen Yixin glanced at him but neither answered nor mocked him outright.

He had already killed Zhou Yan. No matter how shameless these people were, they were no longer worth his attention, nor worth a word of ridicule. His indifference was the greatest punishment he could give them.

Holding Wenren Li, he continued forward. Yun Zhenzi could not withstand such disregard and unconsciously stepped aside, making way.

Nan Ke and the demon guards were already waiting on the Thousand Cloud Ladder with the red sedan. Chen Yixin carried Wenren Li all the way to the sedan door before pausing. He turned back, and hope instantly flared in the eyes of Yun Zhenzi and Yun Yazi.

But Chen Yixin had no intention of speaking to them. Instead, he looked at Han Zichuang.

“I don’t care what so-called divine revelations your Heaven’s Secret Sect keeps. Behave yourselves. My safety is protected by A-Li and the Demon Palace.”

“If you are used by others to harm me or A-Li, then kill on sight. No mercy.”

After saying this, Chen Yixin turned and entered the red sedan. It was lifted into the clouds, and a thousand demon guards followed on their flying artifacts. They had arrived with great momentum—and left just as decisively.

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