It was said that each demon seed contained nine thousand facets, nine thousand smiling faces, reflecting the circles within which humans had confined themselves since time immemorial. 

Only without self could one see the truth. 

In fact, the way of clarity wasn’t the “way of demon-subduing.” It was mainly that Zhou Ying’s current situation was special—his Way of the Heart was external, and it had been inherited directly from the current pinnacle of the way of clarity, a master half a step from a shed skin. 

This was different from the Ways of the Heart those like Zhao Qindan totteringly fumbled towards on their own and made from scratch. The disparity between his cultivation level and Duanrui’s was too great. Within herself, her Way of the Heart could hardly cope, but it could envelop Zhou Ying in his entirety like a mountain. He couldn’t digest it right away. And precisely because he couldn’t digest it, he had temporarily entered an unusual state of “void,” the restriction becoming a powerful protection—there would be nothing to worry about now even if a master came to fight a duel of Ways of the Heart with him. He would only need to relax and let the Way of the Heart carry him through it. 

Precisely because of this, the heart demon seed, which could only attack the mind and was otherwise toothless, could do nothing to him. 

Moreover, Zhou Ying had grown up alongside the demon host in the Impassable Sea. He was well acquainted with the nature of the heart demon seed. He was simply the heart demon seed’s natural predator. 

He only quietly waited off to the side while the last heart demon seed in the world exhausted all its efforts and finally stopped struggling. 

Like amber, it congealed. 

The surface of the heart demon seed wasn’t smooth. It was made up of countless small facets. Zhou Ying didn’t actually count to see whether there were nine thousand. He only watched the rich play of color over them—it was actually rather pleasing to the eye. 

He pierced the tamed heart demon seed with his consciousness. When he opened his eyes, in the depths of his pupils flashed a pair of “multifaceted gemstones.” 

The cursed descendant of the demon subduers had obtained a pair of demon’s eyes, as if predestined. 

Through the demon eyes, just like when Zhou Ying had first established his foundation, the world seemed once again to turn completely on its head. The last layer of “gauze” covering his eyes had also vanished. 

First he raised his head to look at the Bell of Tribulation in the sky above the Principal Peak. 

The Bell of Tribulation didn’t come out to frighten people for no reason. Only the eyes of those who had found the edge of the shed skin boundary or those with a paramount spiritual sense could see it. 

An established foundation with a paramount spiritual sense could see the Bell of Tribulation at a glance from the Latent Cultivation Temple. At the Principal Peak, he could clearly see every inscription on it, as well as its spiritual energy. 

And right now, Zhou Ying could see that there was “color” to the spiritual energy surrounding the Bell of Tribulation. The vast majority of the spiritual energy blended with the surroundings, constantly gathering and dispersing in its flow. But the lower part of the great divine tool of the mountains was linked to a special thread of spiritual energy, which was grey as the smoke belched out by the factories in the southern outskirts. It was clearly spiritual energy scattering outward, yet it didn’t move a hair in the strong wind of the mountaintop. It maintained a fixed form—like a big hand supporting the Bell of Tribulation. 

No…wait. 

Zhou Ying’s demon eyes went deeper. He found that at the join between the “smoke” and the Bell of Tribulation, the Bell of Tribulation’s edges were blurred. 

Rather than saying that the grey spiritual energy was supporting the Bell of Tribulation, it would be better to say that the Bell of Tribulation had itself “grown out” of the spiritual energy; it was a physical embodiment of that grey spiritual energy. 

Staring at the Bell of Tribulation for a moment, Zhou Ying at once saw through Xuanyin’s thirty-six peaks. 

He saw the established foundations bustling all over the mountains, all with more or less essence within them, and the grey spiritual energy of the spiritual mountains curled up within their essences like an infant’s umbilical cord; the Zhou clan’s ascended spirit peak masters were currently gathered to talk about something, and unknowingly they were allowing that grey spiritual energy to pass through their meridians. 

Then he looked at the only shed skin who was still within the spiritual mountains at present—Zhang Jue. 

Through the demon eyes, a person’s emotions were crystal clear: the Dignitary of Fate High Elder was outside of Flying Jade Peak right now, feeling hesitant and distressed, with faint unspeakable remorse mixed in…but none of that was important—what the demon eyes saw was that Zhang Jue was a “half-person.” 

Only half of his body was flesh and blood, with all kinds of subtle emotions churning within it as with the ascended spirits; the other half, however, was completely grey. At a glance, it looked like it was made of clay brick.  

The high elder was in the air on a sword. It was easy to see that the “clay” half of his body was connected at the foot to the grey spiritual energy extending from the spiritual mountains. Like the Bell of Tribulation, he seemed to be a person who had “grown out” of the spiritual mountains. 

While the ascended spirits were also full of smoke, it was only interwoven with them; they still had plenty of emotions, desires and weaknesses. 

Zhang Jue, however, was different. His grey half was completely separate from his other half…and it wasn’t “dead”; in the grey spiritual energy, the demon eyes saw panic. 

This was the panic of the Bell of Tribulation, the panic of the spiritual mountains as a whole. 

The demon eyes paused briefly on Zhang Jue, then continued to probe onward. They penetrated Flying Jade Peak’s mountain seal and beheld…a magnificent sight. 

On Flying Jade Peak, the “smoke” of the spiritual mountains covered everything. When panic became concentrated enough, it would turn to rage. The “smoke” so dense it had nearly condensed into clay bricks was desperately throwing itself at the sword platform on the slope. 

The person on the sword platform was evidently half a step from a shed skin, yet there wasn’t a sliver of grey spiritual energy within him. The wondrous sword cuts that covered the ground kept resisting the corrosion of that “smoke.” Beside him was a sapling that looked something like a birch tree. 

The connection between that tree and the person was just like the one between the Bell of Tribulation and the Xuanyin Mountains. 

Without any judgment, Zhou Ying thought, “There’s a rebel against the spiritual mountains here…” 

But the resistance on the sword platform was growing weaker and weaker, and the sapling was withering at a speed visible to the naked eye. 

“…though it seems he won’t hold out much longer.” 

Just then, Zhou Ying’s spiritual sense was touched. The box of notes in his mustard seed opened on its own and spat out a slip of paper. 

He reached out to remove the note. On it was written: Sanyue’s Heartless Lotus is an ascended spirit, and he was trapped in the Silver Moon for centuries. He has seen more secrets than all the world’s shed skins put together. He must already have guessed the location of Great Wan’s Territory Map. Now, while that lunatic is attacking, take a look at the veins of the earth—what is this “Territory Map” that the sage wouldn’t breathe a word about? 

Concerning what the Territory Map actually was, why did it seem that all the shed skin sages of Xuanyin weren’t as well informed as Zhuoming, who had been locked in a cage for centuries? 

Zhuoming was using the Territory Map rubbing to push his way through, and Xi Ping, at an impasse, wanted to “blindfold” Zhaoting with his consciousness, not let shifu see what was happening in Jinping now. 

But that was only futile self-deception. The crack in the shard of Zhaoting in his spirit deepened. 

Xi Ping had the feeling that if that shard of Zhaoting disappeared, he would no longer have a shifu. 

Crushed between the oppressive immortal mountains and the shameless evil cultivators, he couldn’t catch his breath. There was a gloomy lump of stagnant blood in his chest. For a moment, he even came to the edge of losing his mind. He wished the universe would collapse; he wished he could kill everyone. 

Just then, his consciousness, beaten and scattered all over the place by Zhuoming’s lotus seals, slipped into an unexpected place—as Jinping City wavered, the poor of the east city were fighting for their lives, while the wealthy of the west city had retreated into their inscriptions if they had them, had shut up their houses if they had arrays; whether it was any use or not, they all ordered their guards to surround their houses tightly. 

Only the Yongning Marquis Manor hadn’t been shut up. 

The front gate was open. The Marquis at his age couldn’t stand up for long, so the servants had brought a chair for him to sit in. Madam Cui ordered a bowl of hot soup to be sent to him. In the midst of the turmoil, he said, “Thank Madam for this gift.” He held the bowl of soup in both hands. At his feet was the miniature reincarnation wood tree that before had been growing in Prince Zhuang Manor. 

The dim lantern at the gate swept over the “Peace Under Heaven” gate pins and fell on the reincarnation wood, quickly brushing over Xi Ping’s eyes, steadying his scattered mind. 

Next, a familiar bracing smell came flying towards him head-on. Xi Ping’s consciousness, fallen into the reincarnation wood, returned to his body. He blocked automatically, but the thing turned into a thread of clear energy and seeped into his sense organs—it was a mind clearing pill. 

The scent of the elixir diffused everywhere, as if it had no need to perform a diagnosis and could sniff out where the injured were, then dissolve the correct medicine into the wind. 

At the same time, a fierce wind flew straight towards the white lotuses in the gutters; a segment of heartless lotus stalks that couldn’t dodge in time corroded and turned black. 

The taste of this mind clearing pill was all too familiar. Xi Ping looked up and saw that the first person to arrive from Xuanyin’s inner sect turned out to be neither the Dignitary of Rule nor the Dignitary of Rites—it was Wen Fei. 

This medicine cultivator could fight, far exceeding Xi Ping’s expectations. He instantly alleviated the one-against-two pressure Xi Ping was struggling under. His fan shook, sending a handful of talismans flying towards Xiang Ning. 

People normally classed the medicine and toolmaking ways together—as a representative of those too weak to undertake a burden, Wen Fei himself was in fact always grouping himself with Lin Chi. But Xi Ping found to his astonishment that it was possible Master Lin was the only one of Xuanyin’s thirty-six peak masters who really couldn’t look after himself. 

When Peak Master Wen, who normally seemed somewhat unreliable, got down to it, he let out a string of killing blows, more direct than Xi Ping, who had rolled out of a heap of evil cultivators. Why did his posture as he tossed out talismans without batting an eye resemble Pang Jian…? 

A line of writing on the fan quickly swung at Xi Ping’s chest: Your humble servant was the General Commander of Heaven’s Design Pavilion…some number of office holders back. 

Xi Ping: “…” 

Pardon his lack of manners, it was Lao Pang imitating him. 

“Zhi Jingzhai,” Wen Fei suddenly shouted to Zhi Xiu through Xi Ping. It turned out that he wasn’t mute. It was only that, perhaps because he hadn’t spoken in a long time, he bit off each word individually. “Don’t—listen—to—them.” 

Wen Fei landed beside Xi Ping, glanced at him, still couldn’t stand the sight, and gave a sigh of lamentation. He brought his fan up in front of Xi Ping’s eyes. On it was written: The Heartless Lotus is poison. I can’t defeat him. You go ahead.

These words flashed and vanished. Had Lin Chi been reading them, he probably wouldn’t even have had time to understand them. Then Wen Fei took out something like a giant seal and pressed it towards the constantly quaking ground of Jinping City. To Xi Ping, he said, “Follow me!” 

Zhi Xiu wasn’t a person who liked a lot of bustle, but from Duanrui, Su Zhun, and other such people, to Zhao Qindan, whom he had casually added to the list of provisional disciples, his appraisal of people was quite good. Rosy Cloud Peak just happened to have the most interaction with Flying Jade Peak of all the thirty-six peaks. 

Xi Ping had no time to think carefully. He could only temporarily trust in his shizun’s ability to choose his friends. His consciousness followed Wen Fei into that black seal. 

He felt his consciousness enter the earth. As a Jinpinger born and bred, he had never been so close to Jinping. His consciousness seemed to have melded with the earth of Jinping. It struck violently against the Heartless Lotus. 

Enemies walk a narrow path—the lotus seals copied by the Discard the False and Keep the True book crashed into the real lotus seals. Xi Ping and Zhuoming simultaneously felt stabbing pain in their consciousnesses; each retreated. 

While the faux lotuses couldn’t defeat the real lotuses, Xi Ping’s consciousness had the hidden bones attached to it; cultivation for him was being constantly broken and remade; he was much more resistant to attacks than the “delicate flower” Zhuoming. He didn’t care at all about a little wound like this. After a pause, he immediately continued the pursuit. 

As he chased, he asked, “Wen-shishu, what is this?” 

“The Territory Map rubbing of the Jinping area.” Wen Fei used his consciousness to communicate directly, sounding much more normal. His speech was even rather fast. “No, sword god’s disciple, don’t call me ‘shishu.’ It makes me feel old.” 

Zhuoming had stuck together his Territory Map rubbing by swallowing the relics of countless Zhaos, but the one Wen Fei had was evidently complete. It had clearly come from the hands of a Zhao inner sect master. 

Where had it come from? 

“Wen” was no distinguished noble surname, and he’d said himself that he came from Heaven’s Design Pavilion. Why would he have something belonging to the Zhao family stashed away? 

Xi Ping suddenly realized that it was because Wen Fei had set out as soon as he sensed something going wrong in Jinghua Village that he had been able to arrive faster than the two elders. 

In other words…when he had left, he hadn’t told the immortal mountains; he hadn’t even followed the rules and gotten a token to leave. 

On Xuanyin’s Principal Peak, Zhou Ying crushed the note. Following his own instructions, he gazed into the depths of the spiritual mountains with the demon eyes. 

The veins of the earth—also called the spiritual veins—extended from the spiritual mountains, covering all of Great Wan like blood vessels. The offshoot that reached into the capital city of Jinping was the so-called Dragon Vein. 

Now a hideous tear had opened in the Dragon Vein. A bit of blackness had seeped out of the “wound,” causing the thing that had lain perfectly dovetailed within the veins of the earth to fall slightly out of alignment, revealing its true face. 

It was an enormous shadow, its main body crouching beneath the Xuanyin Mountains, the “branches” extending from it identical to the veins of the earth flowing out of the immortal mountains. 

In the immortal mountains, there was a statue of the Southern Sage. It was solemn and stately; it seemed to be alive. 

And in the same spot within shadow, there was an inverted statue of the Southern Sage. 

Zhou Ying paused: he had heard that the great demon in the depths of the Impassable Sea had a face identical to the Southern Sage’s. 

Just then, spiritual light flashed from the demon eyes. Zhou Ying, the new master of the heart demon seed, having subdued it, seemed to sense something. Following the spiritual light, his consciousness sank into the demon seed. 

After a moment, he had a sudden realization. 

The countless facets of the heart demon seed reflected Xuanyin’s thirty-six peaks; the history hidden within the heart demon seed ran backwards before Zhou Ying’s eyes and played out once more. 

He saw the instant the Southern Sage reached a full moon position—countless spiritual stones gathered around the sage’s Way of the Heart and assembled into Xuanyin’s thirty-six peaks. 

The demon eyes saw that the moment the sage stepped over the full moon boundary, the Way of the Heart that had been fed by endless cultivation and spiritual stones broke free of the Southern Sage and turned around to pollute his body. 

The sage became the vessel of the Way of the Heart, and he didn’t know it himself. 

And just then, he received word from an old friend who, while they didn’t follow the same path, was still on fairly good terms with him. This friend invited him to go to the East Sea’s Impassable Sea to vanquish demons. 

This person’s name was Yuan Hui. His way was called “ungovernable.” His temperament was a little unsociable, but he wasn’t a bad person. When all the forces of evil had been running amok, he had even helped the Southern Sage look after his young disciples. 

The Impassable Sea was a nest of demons. It ought to have been cleared out long ago. So the Southern Sage brought along a demon subduer and went to accept the invitation. 

In the Impassable Abyss, the demon eyes reflected the truth about becoming a god: Yuan Hui had no Way of the Heart; when he discovered that he was being controlled by his hidden bones, this shed skin master who had always been ungovernable personally cleaved the hidden bones, killing himself at the bottom of the Impassable Sea. 

And the Southern Sage saw his own true face reflected. His heart demon was immediately born. At the same time, the spiritual mountains quaked, and the “Territory Map” came into being. 

But Southern Wan’s borders had just been established; the common people had been given a place to shelter. He could no longer afford to pay the price of the spiritual mountains collapsing. All he could do was join hands with the demon subduer to seal the secrets of the Impassable Sea and the spiritual mountains beneath the Resurrection Vortex forever. 

The Territory Map wasn’t the supposed “reflection of the spiritual veins in bodies of water”; it had been born from the sage’s heart demon. 

It existed alongside the spiritual mountains. The sage had been well aware of it, but he could never get rid of it. 

When Zhou Ying had entered the way of clarity, Duanrui had asked him what his special eyes had seen. He hadn’t answered then, because had he said it, Princess Duanrui’s Way of the Heart would have crumbled on the spot like Zhao Yin’s. 

What he had seen was: the way of clarity and unfeeling was a scam. There was no such thing as all-embracing, all-comprehending pure intellect. 

If a person had a heart, whether it belonged to a way, to a demon, or a mortal, they could never forget emotion and become a god. 

And the way of clarity and unfeeling was seen as the origin of the three thousand paths of the Great Way. Reasonably speaking, every road to becoming a sage ought to arrive by different paths at the same destination that the way of clarity led to. Supposing the way of clarity had no endpoint, then none of the three thousand paths of the Great Way could have an endpoint. 

When the full moon sages had “broken free of the mundane dust and ascended,” where had they ascended to? 

Clarity’s Way of the Heart wiped away the fog before the eyes of the paramount spiritual sense: they hadn’t gone anywhere; the Southern Sage was still in the mundane world. 

His corpse was called the thirty-six peaks of Xuanyin.