Chapter 592 | Demonic Beings? Obviously Auspicious Omens!

Xuandu had no intention of dealing with Dongming at all; he simply looked at Chen Zhou, his expression softening.

“Have you brought the examinee?”

Chen Zhou bowed. “Senior, you gave the command, and I dared not delay.”

Xuandu nodded, his gaze moving past Chen Zhou to land on the small bald figure behind him.

Wu Gou took two steps forward, pressed his palms together, and bowed slightly.

“Junior Wu Gou greets the Xuandu Ghost Emperor.”

His voice was light and pleasant, his tone steady. He lacked the typical nervousness and awkwardness of a young man, instead radiating a sense of calm that suggested he had weathered many storms.

Xuandu appraised him for a few breaths. “A second symbiosis contract?”

“Yes.” Wu Gou straightened his back and looked calmly at Xuandu on the high platform.

As their eyes met, Wu Gou’s gaze held no awe, no fear, and no forced maturity.

It was a peaceful composure, like the surface of a lake that remained undisturbed by wind or rain.

Xuandu’s brow furrowed slightly in surprise.

For a junior with a cultivation level only at the second symbiosis contract to remain so composed before a Ghost Emperor was a rare feat of mental fortitude.

However, he felt something was slightly off.

Wu Gou’s tone, his sense of propriety, and even the way he stood did not resemble a young man.

He was far too mature.

Xuandu suppressed his doubts and gave Wu Gou another look.

A Wenchang destiny—yes, that was correct.

While the quality wasn't top-tier, he was indeed a genuine Wenchang Noble.

A cultivation level of the second symbiosis contract would have been negligible during the ancient era, but in this age of withered divine paths, it was considered decent.

After all, he couldn't expect a subordinate god to meet Chen Zhou’s standards.

A soul age of one year, a cultivation at the seventh-stage fifth contract, seven zhang of merit, and eight chi of faith—such a monster might not appear once in an entire eon.

It was only natural for his subordinate god to be weaker.

As Xuandu thought this, the slight disappointment in his heart dissipated.

The future Young Palace Master of the Great Emperor’s Palace was only a one-year-old new god, and the burden on his shoulders was already heavy enough.

Based on Chen Zhou’s previous descriptions, the state of the world outside was even worse than he had imagined.

The outer provinces were shattered, demons and fiends ran rampant, the old gods had all fallen, and mortals were treated like weeds.

For a newly born deity to establish a foothold in such a chaotic world and gather tens of millions of believers was already an incredible feat.

Finding a subordinate god with a Wenchang destiny and a steady temperament was even more difficult.

One had to realize that even during the flourishing age of the divine path, finding someone with both a special destiny and immense talent was extremely rare.

Xuandu felt he should go easy on them and not make things too difficult for the future Young Palace Master and his subordinate god.

The trial still had to be conducted for the sake of appearances, but the standards could be relaxed slightly.

As long as the little monk’s performance wasn't too poor, he would let him pass.

Having made up his mind, Xuandu remained impassive, merely nodding slightly.

“In that case, let us begin.”

As he spoke, he waved his sleeve, and the light screen beneath the dome of the hall reappeared.

But at that moment, Dongming suddenly spoke up.

“Wait.”

Dongming stepped out from the corner of the hall. His pitch-black official robes shimmered with a cold light under the lamps, and his face beneath the high crown was stern. The aura of natural authority he exuded forced the Seven Evils to shrink further into the corner.

He walked up to Chen Zhou and stopped.

The two were less than three feet apart.

Dongming was half a head taller than Chen Zhou and looked down at him. Chen Zhou did not look away, meeting his gaze calmly.

Dongming watched him for a few breaths before his gaze drifted down to the dark gold mark on Chen Zhou’s chest.

Others couldn't see it, but as the Ghost Emperor of the Dongming Ghost Mansion, he could naturally perceive that it was the brand left after the Black Sludge Pond bound itself to Chen Zhou’s soul—the token that recognized him as the Great Emperor’s Palace’s temporary vessel.

Dongming stared at the mark for a long time before looking up to re-examine Chen Zhou.

He could tell that this young man’s soul age was incredibly low.

Exactly how low, those two old fossils Zhaoye and Xuandu hadn't told him.

But judging by their attitude toward the boy, it was likely less than a hundred years.

If that were truly the case, it wasn't unacceptable.

For a new god with a soul age of less than a hundred years to be chosen by the Great Emperor’s Palace and recognized by both Zhaoye and Xuandu meant he certainly had extraordinary qualities.

However, the more Dongming looked at Chen Zhou, the more peculiar he felt.

The man was standing right in front of him, yet he felt as if he couldn't see him clearly.

Chen Zhou seemed shrouded in an invisible mist. His face, his aura, and the death qi circulating around him were all veiled.

Dongming frowned.

He was the Dongming Ghost Emperor, the master of insight. His Ghost Eyes could distinguish the origin of all things and see through all delusions.

There were very few things in this world he couldn't see through.

Yet, he could not see through this young man.

After a moment’s hesitation, Dongming quietly activated his Ghost Eye.

A faint gray light ignited deep within his pupils, like two dim lamps.

With his Ghost Eye open, Dongming’s gaze pierced through the mist surrounding Chen Zhou.

Just as he thought.

A layer of divine path authority was obscuring the man’s heavenly secrets.

Dongming sensed the aura of that authority and his eyebrows twitched.

This aura… was very similar to the Cloud Sea Resplendence of the Heavenly Talisman Great Emperor from back then.

It was likely some fragmented inheritance or a piece obtained from an ancient ruin.

Dongming felt slightly more at ease.

While the authority was marvelous, the user’s cultivation was too low.

A mere seventh-stage fifth contract—did he really think such a layer of concealment could block the Ghost Eye of the Dongming Ghost Emperor?

Dongming let out a disdainful snort, and the gray light in his Ghost Eyes flared, easily tearing through the shroud of Cloud Sea Resplendence.

He wanted to see exactly what this boy had that made Zhaoye and Xuandu value him so highly.

Dongming’s gaze pierced the mist and looked directly into Chen Zhou’s body.

Then, his pupils suddenly constricted.

He saw merit.

Seven zhang of Golden Light of Merit had condensed into a massive golden wheel, as brilliant as a blazing sun. Deep within that golden light was a cluster of even more dazzling radiance.

The color of that light was different from the Golden Light of Merit; it was a nearly transparent white, much like heavenly light, yet it seemed to be something even more primordial than merit.

Dongming’s pupils shook violently.

Was that… the merit of saving the world?

No.

It was deeper, more ancient, and even more…

Dongming’s heart skipped a beat. Just as his gaze was about to touch that cluster of light, an indescribable pressure erupted from deep within it.

It was as ancient as the first light of creation and as majestic as a supreme being looking down upon all life.

Dongming felt as if he were looking up at an infinite starry sky, or facing an existence even more ancient and inviolable than the Northern Great Emperor.

Before that pressure, his Ghost Eye felt like an ant looking up at the heavens.

A roar exploded in Dongming’s mind, and a chill rushed from the base of his spine to the top of his head.

He abruptly withdrew his gaze and involuntarily took half a step back. His stern face was now slightly pale.

Dongming took a deep breath, suppressing the shock surging in his heart.

What on earth was that?

From his birth to his death, and then to being chosen by the Emperor to enter the ghost mansion, he had never seen such an existence.

It wasn't a godhead or an authority; it wasn't anything from any power system he knew.

It seemed more ancient, more primordial—an even more indescribable existence.

Dongming didn't dare look again, fearing he might see something he shouldn't.

He deactivated his Ghost Eye and gave Chen Zhou a complex look before averting his eyes.

He decided to stop probing this person’s secrets.

If this Young Palace Master personally chosen by the Great Emperor’s Palace was truly the one who followed the mandate of heaven after a hundred thousand years, then some things were better left unknown.

Dongming turned his gaze toward Wu Gou.

The little monk was fine; seeing through him with the Ghost Eye wasn't difficult.

Dongming’s gaze pierced Wu Gou’s body, looking back at his past life.

Scenes unfolded before his eyes.

A towering snow mountain. Beneath the mountain’s ley line was a magnificent Buddhist temple. Inside the temple sat an old monk in a patchwork robe.

The old monk sat cross-legged on a beast-hand lotus platform, his face filled with compassion, surrounded by Buddhist light. Below him were countless kneeling flesh-spheres, each connected to the old monk by an umbilical cord.

Dongming nodded slightly. Counting his current life, being a Buddhist for two lifetimes indicated a deep affinity with the Buddha.

Further back, the old monk had fallen in the Northern Region, and this little monk had been stripped from the old monk’s body to be reborn through reincarnation.

Dongming’s gaze moved from Wu Gou’s past life to his current one.

The details of the reincarnation were all blurred, but everything after that—growing into his current form, his cultivation at the second symbiosis contract, and his Wenchang destiny—was clear.

It was all as clear as an open book.

Then, Dongming looked at Wu Gou’s future.

His Ghost Eye pierced through the mists of time, seeking to see what this little monk would become.

But he saw nothing.

Wu Gou had no next life.

His fate ended in this life.

Dongming’s brow twisted into a tight knot.

No next life?

What did that mean?

It meant that this person’s fate had been cut off by some power. His causal lines did not extend into the future; they came to an abrupt halt at a certain point.

Did this mean he would fall at some point in the future, his soul scattering?

Or did it mean he would attain the Dao in this life and ascend as a god, thus having no need for a next life?

Greatly startled, Dongming traced Wu Gou’s causal lines back, trying to find the source of the power that had severed his fate.

The causal lines extended from Wu Gou, crossed the void, and connected to Chen Zhou.

Following the causal lines, Dongming’s gaze once again touched the existence within Chen Zhou that inspired such awe.

That ancient and majestic pressure surged forth again. Dongming felt a pang of pain in his Ghost Eye and quickly looked away.

But he had already seen it.

When Wu Gou was reincarnated in this life, Dongming had seen a patch of emerald green.

Vibrant vitality and deep death qi coexisted harmoniously within that green, entwining and nourishing each other like a yin-yang fish.

That was not a scene any cultivation technique or authority he knew could create.

Life and death had always been opposing sides.

But the life and death within that emerald green seemed… as if they were one and the same to begin with.

Dongming was completely unable to comprehend it.

He had lived for an eon, seen countless marvelous techniques, and witnessed many brilliant geniuses, but he had never seen anything like this.

What exactly was that existence inside Chen Zhou?

And what did Wu Gou’s reincarnation have to do with it?

Just as Dongming was about to look closer, Suwei, thinking he was going to trouble Chen Zhou, stepped forward. His cattail-fan-sized palm clamped over Dongming’s mouth while his other arm wrapped around his waist, dragging him back.

“Alright, alright, Old Dong, keep it down.”

Suwei laughed as he played the peacemaker. “The examinee is already here. If you have something to say, wait until the trial is over.”

With his mouth covered, Dongming’s eyes grew cold.

He raised his hand and drew a long sword as black as ink from the void.

The blade had no reflection, appearing like a solidified shadow.

Dongming swung the sword, the blade light flashing across Suwei’s wrist.

Suwei’s wrist was severed at the root, and black mist erupted from the wound.

Suwei let out an “Ouch,” released Dongming, and bent over to pick up his fallen hand.

Dongming sheathed his sword and expressionlessly straightened his rumpled official robes.

“I am not leaving.”

His voice was as cold as ever, but if one listened closely, a trace of unnaturalness could be heard.

“I will stay here and watch.”

He didn't explain why he wanted to watch, nor did he explain his earlier loss of composure.

He simply stood coldly in the corner of the hall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on Chen Zhou—or perhaps looking through Chen Zhou at something else.

Suwei picked up his hand and pressed it against his severed wrist.

A flash of blood-light followed, and the hand was reattached. He flexed his fingers, finding them as good as new.

He gave Xuandu a helpless look, his eyes saying: This old fellow Dongming’s stubborn streak is acting up; I can't talk him out of it.

Xuandu ignored him and spoke warmly to Chen Zhou. “In that case, are you ready?”

Chen Zhou nodded and looked at Wu Gou.

“I’ve already explained the rules of the trial to you.”

“The first stage tests cultivation. Senior Xuandu will send a malevolent ghost and suppress its cultivation to the same level as yours. You must defeat it to pass.”

“The second stage tests soul age. The rules are the same, but it is the soul age that is suppressed.”

“The third stage tests talent. You must choose three from the tens of thousands of talent light-orbs on the dome, fully comprehend them within the time it takes for three incense sticks to burn, and use the comprehended talents to defeat a wisp of divine sense within the light-orbs.”

“Pass all three stages, and the Xuandu Ghost Mansion will be yours.”

After listening, Wu Gou nodded with a smile.

“Doesn't sound too hard.”

His tone was relaxed. Since the Big Demon had brought him here, it meant he had confidence in him.

And he also had confidence in Chen Zhou.

Wu Gou pressed his palms together, softly chanted a Buddhist invocation, and looked up at Xuandu on the high platform.

“Senior, please.”

Xuandu glanced at him and waved his sleeve.

The void in the center of the hall cracked open, and a portal of light appeared.

Xuandu turned to the Seven Evils.

“Who among you will go for the first stage?”

The Seven Evils looked at each other.

Who would go?

This was a thankless job.

If the little monk passed the trial, he would be their superior in the future.

Who wanted to offend him?

Besides, the miserable state of Zhao Lie and Hong Xiu when they were examiners was still fresh in their minds.

Being crushed by a junior in public and then being publicly executed by Xuandu—they had lost face in the entire Xuandu Ghost Mansion.

Zhao Lie crossed his arms with an air of indifference, his eyes fixed on the dome as if he were studying the patterns on it.

Hong Xiu used her round fan to cover half her face, looking down at her nose and her nose at her heart, determined not to make eye contact with Xuandu.