Chapter 66: The Supreme Heavenly Emperor, Primordial Sovereign of All Living Things

The ancestral land of the Fengyang clan was a colossal temple, towering over a thousand feet high, its halls and passages stretching in every direction. From afar, one could see within the temple a statue enshrined—a divine figure with a human head and a dragon’s body.

There could be no doubt; this was the Celestial Emperor Fuxi, or perhaps the Great Eminence Fuxi.

The Three Sovereigns were divine beings, governing heaven, earth, and humanity, revered by all living creatures. As the emperors of the human race, they were also the primordial lords of all life—on earth, the Human Emperor; in heaven, the Celestial Emperor.

Thus, their forms were extraordinary—not because the Three Sovereigns were not purely human, but because such forms were needed to rule over gods and myriad beings.

Beneath the statue of Fuxi were effigies of illustrious ancestors of the Feng clan, their forms closest to Fuxi’s image, except for a divine eye at the center of their brows; as the line receded, their likenesses gradually approached the current human form.

Villages, large and small, clustered around the temple as its center. At a glance, they appeared ancient and rustic, lacking even the semblance of a proper city.

By all accounts, the spiritual realm’s existence should far predate the Four Seas Realm. Even the Four Seas Realm had already developed immense cities like Tianyuan Immortal City and the Tang Dynasty’s capital, each able to house millions.

It seemed unreasonable that the Fengyang clan could not build such cities, choosing instead to live in villages. Truly, it was most peculiar.

Within these villages, mortals and immortals mingled. There were ordinary people, though stronger than those in the Four Seas Realm, yet bereft of magical power. There were also formidable individuals; by Chen Yang’s senses, their strength rivaled Feng Xi, the guardian of the altar—likely at the peak of transformation, or even higher.

As Chen Yang and his disciple passed through, none came to hinder them. At most, they received a glance, and then were ignored.

Everywhere, the air was thick with an ancient, almost ‘pristine’ simplicity.

As they neared the temple, finally someone blocked their way—a youth of about seventeen or eighteen, his body sinewy and clad in a coat made from the hide of some fierce beast. He looked robust and wild; his cultivation felt similar to the Nascent Soul stage, yet not quite so.

The youth stopped them and spoke with certainty, “You must be from the lower realm, aren’t you?”

Chen Yang nodded, smiling, “You have keen eyes, young brother. We’ve come from Fellow Daoist Feng Xi.”

“Oh!” The youth nodded, “The temple isn’t to be entered at will. Only during ancestor worship may you go inside. You must first meet the patriarch, so he can arrange matters for you.”

With that, he strode off in a certain direction, not waiting for Chen Yang and his disciple to agree.

Chen Yang smiled, not particularly bothered. The Fengyang clan was odd in many ways—not odd, perhaps, but their customs were wholly unfamiliar to him. In truth, the strangeness was not theirs, but his own.

Following the youth through several villages, they reached an open space. There, an elderly man, perhaps seventy or eighty, was wielding a stone hammer, steadily chiseling away at a massive boulder over ten feet high, shaping it into something that resembled a human figure.

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Despite his aged appearance, the elder’s cultivation was extraordinarily high, and there was a strange power within him that made Chen Yang feel threatened; Zhong Shenxiu, his disciple, furrowed his brow, his hair bristling in alarm.

In recent years, Zhong Shenxiu had not been idle. His magical power had steadily increased, and after witnessing the new Hunyuan Immortal Path created by Chen Yang, he was inspired to forge his own method, blending the way of the sword into the greater Dao.

As he put it, he had always studied the sword, loved the sword, and cherished the thrill of wielding a blade and roaming the world. If he could devise a path that granted immortality and also served as a sword technique for self-defense and slaying foes, that would suit him best.

Though not yet successful, he had made progress. His sword heart was not only resilient, but exceptionally sensitive.

Ordinary people would never sense the elder’s terrifying presence, seeing him only as a frail, ordinary old man.

“What a perceptive child,” the elder said, climbing down from the statue and casually tucking the stone hammer into his belt. His gaze toward Zhong Shenxiu was full of appreciation.

Chen Yang, though he sensed the threat from the old man, showed no sign of it. His confidence matched his skill, and his demeanor remained calm, which made the elder misjudge him.

“The spiritual realm is not so peaceful of late. You, child, have come too soon; you should spend more years honing yourself in the lower realm,” the elder said, then pointed at the youth who had brought them, instructing, “Take him away.”

“As for you, child, stay by my side for now,” he continued, largely ignoring Chen Yang and giving special attention to Zhong Shenxiu.

“I will stay with my master,” Zhong Shenxiu replied succinctly, brooking no argument.

“Do you know who I am, child?” the elder asked.

Zhong Shenxiu said nothing more, merely stepping closer to his master.

“Is Daoist trying to steal my disciple?” Chen Yang chuckled.

“The child has great talent. It’s a pity for him to follow you. What you say is not wrong,” the elder replied frankly, without a hint of concealment.

“You old fellow, age has made your tongue even sharper. Let me see if you’re worthy,” Chen Yang said, shaking his head with a laugh. He closed his fingers, summoning a brilliant immortal aura of the five elements, its colors swirling and converging into a handful of divine needles, pointing directly at the elder.

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This technique belonged to the lineage of He Sha, a Golden Immortal, their signature art—the Great Divine Five Elements Needles, manifesting the primordial and acquired five-colored divine light.

This spell was designed to counter all transformations of the five elements and was exceptionally fierce in attack. It was one of the rare powerful techniques in Chen Yang’s arsenal.

In the past, Chen Yang had learned this spell specifically to counter Emei’s Nine Precepts Immortal Banner, wagering against Yi Xiu thirteen times and winning every bout, thus earning the admiration of the divine steed and finally mastering the technique.

Since cultivating the Hunyuan Primordial Spirit, though his magical power was still far short of his previous life, he could now wield many formidable methods with ease. Compared to before attaining the Primordial Spirit, it was like heaven and earth.

As the Great Divine Five Elements Needles appeared, the elder immediately tensed. A phantom of a three-eyed divine being enveloped his body, and he gazed at Chen Yang’s needles with evident dread.

“Well done, impressive technique. It seems I misjudged you,” he said.

Chen Yang smiled. He had no intention of truly harming the old man; otherwise, he would have used the Yuan Tu or Invisible Sword combined with immortal light, breaking all spells with a single strike.

Especially the Invisible Sword—though the elder had some hidden abilities that could threaten him, Chen Yang was confident that none of those tricks would avail him, and he could sever his head from his shoulders with ease.

The old man was somewhat arrogant, but straightforward and candid, neither likable nor detestable. His desire to teach Zhong Shenxiu was merely the joy of discovering a promising youth, a natural inclination.

Chen Yang did not object; such things were common in Shushan. Some elders who enjoyed mingling with mortals, like the founder of Qingcheng, the Blissful Child Li Jingxu, were much the same.

These masters would not forcibly take disciples, nor accept them without cause. When they encountered a congenial junior, they would often impart a technique or offer guidance.

Chen Yang himself had benefited from such a Daoist elder before joining the Red Lotus sect.

Still, though he bore no ill will, since his own disciple was unwilling, he, as the master, had to stand up for him.

“Since you possess such formidable skill, I spoke out of turn,” the old man said, dismissing the three-eyed phantom and nodding to Chen Yang, forthright and without a trace of pretense.

“Very good,” Chen Yang replied with a smile, withdrawing the Great Divine Five Elements Needles.