During the peak of the Ming Cult's power, it still could not unify the world. It was far from being as lofty and dominant as the Huatian Palace. After all, there were still many ancient and powerful forces that could rival the Ming Cult.
China has a history spanning thousands of years, with long periods of change, concealing countless unknown secrets. In terms of heritage, the Ming Cult wasn't even ranked near the top. Such a vast ancient nation as Mingguo was naturally not simple.
A long, long time ago was an era of a hundred schools of thought, where countless powerful figures emerged, each leading for hundreds of years in their prime.
But over the past four or five centuries, the Huatian Palace evolved into a family-run power, ruling unchallenged. Why did this happen? What secrets lie behind it? Everything remains an unsolved mystery.
"Many people are interested in Huatian Palace. You're not the only one,"
Dongfang Yi smiled and curled his lips. "In my opinion, you'd be better off focusing your attention on a faction in the ancient martial arts world called the Dafang Sect."
"Generous Sect?" Mo Wen raised an eyebrow, a trace of confusion flashing in his eyes.
"A dan-stage powerhouse from the Su family named Wu Dong is an elder of the Kuankou Sect," Dongfang Yi took a sip of red wine and said calmly. "That sect is powerful and arrogant. You killed one of their elders. With their reputation for tolerance, they'll definitely come after you."
"How strong is this Kuankou Sect really?" Mo Wen asked with a raised brow.
"The Dafang Sect has a top-tier expert at the Fetal Breath stage. As for Danbao-stage warriors, they probably have no fewer than twenty. In the ancient martial world, they are a quasi-top-tier force."
Dongfang Yi curled his lip. If Mo Wen made an enemy of the Kuankou Sect, things would get tricky for him.
To have someone at the Fetal Breath level meant the sect had deep heritage since the Tang Dynasty. In the entire ancient martial world, that level of strength was widely respected. A single Fetal Breath expert was comparable to thousands of troops. Many martial artists spend their entire lives at the Danbao stage and never make that leap.
Mo Wen shrugged noncommittally, downed his wine in one go, and returned to his room.
That night, as always, Mo Wen continued his meditation and cultivation. He trained diligently every single day and never slacked. Because he knew—in any world, only by becoming strong enough could he stand firm, act freely, and be unbound; only by being powerful could he deter others and avoid being provoked.
Just like the Huatian Palace—if he were strong enough to surpass everything, no one would dare challenge him, and he would have nothing to worry about.
And that generous sect was also a major threat to him.
If he didn't work hard, he would perish. In a cage. In a world ruled by others, breaking the rules meant death.
So he had to keep cultivating and growing stronger. Only by surpassing all could he live without fear.
In the past, maybe he wasn't confident. But now, with a lifetime of experience, three supreme martial techniques, the martial mastery of the 34th Ming Cult leader, and the transformation brought by the Bloodheart Herb—anything seemed possible.
Perhaps he could go one step further—step into the legendary Golden Core stage, or even surpass it.
But the path to advancement required cyclical accumulation. It took time and persistence.
Back at the Gu Fortress, he had unexpectedly broken into the Qi Sea stage, and his internal power had more than doubled. But unexpected gains were not necessarily his own strength. These past few days, he had focused on solidifying his realm and converting that external power into his own.
With a lifetime of cultivation behind him, Mo Wen deeply understood: only a firm foundation allowed breakthroughs to higher realms.
Some martial artists remained stuck at a stage their entire lives. Often it wasn't a matter of talent but mindset—too eager for quick success and thus veering off the proper path.
In the following days, Mo Wen continued to attend classes, study medicine in his spare time, and practice martial arts at night.
Perhaps because the incident with the Su family was still fresh, the Dafang Sect and Huatian Palace hadn't found him yet.
But Shen Jing had started to pester him.
…
Deep in an uninhabited mountain range, a slim figure stood atop a 5,000-meter-high peak. Below, clouds rolled like waves, creating a majestic sea of mist. Dressed in white, with an elegant figure and fluttering robes, she stood facing the wind. She looked like a celestial maiden descending from heaven—cold, proud, and radiating a commanding aura, as if gazing down upon all the peaks below.
"Sister, how confident are you that you'll survive this assassination?"
Behind that cold figure stood another. Also dressed in white, tall and slender, with jade-like fingers and delicate features—so androgynous it was hard to tell if it was a man or woman. Their appearance was strangely beautiful, but extremely pleasing to the eye—a visual masterpiece.
If she were a woman, she'd be the most beautiful woman in the world.If he were a man, he'd be the most charming man alive.
A contradiction, yet in perfect harmony. Neither male nor female, yet as flawless as art. This was the latest chapter of Ant God.
"I only had fifty percent before. But now that I have the Soul-Nourishing Jade, I think I'll make it."
Mo Qingge stood with her hands behind her back, gazing into the cloud sea, her eyes deep as smoke and filled with an indescribable majesty.
"The one who gave you the Soul-Nourishing Jade is quite interesting,"
Mo Qingtian curved his lips into an evil grin. Unlike Mo Qingge's pure beauty, he carried an inexplicable air of mischief and seduction.
"Him?"
Mo Qingge lowered her lashes and thought for a moment. "He's strange. I can't read him."
"Sis, if you can't read him, it's because you don't want to read him. This is the first time in years you've ever taken the initiative to pay attention to someone."
Mo Qingtian smiled slightly. He didn't believe there was anyone in the world his sister couldn't see through.
"Tian'er, there are things you don't understand, so stop thinking about it."
Mo Qingge smiled gently. When she said she couldn't read him, she meant it.
A person who knew about the Body of Slaughter, who could speak of things only the experienced could, who possessed the Soul-Nourishing Jade and knew its effect on the Body of Slaughter—a teenager who had supposedly risen from nothing, yet suddenly displayed incredible capabilities after turning eighteen.
If you connected all the dots, everything became... messy.
"Sister, I can help you investigate him—if you want," Mo Qingtian offered.
"Forget it. That's someone else's business. It doesn't concern us," Mo Qingge shook her head.
"From what I know, the Huatian Palace and Dafang Sect will be coming for him soon."
Mo Qingtian looked into the distant clouds and pursed his lips. He was curious about how his sister truly felt about Mo Wen. It was rare for her to care about someone.
"Recruit him into Vermilion Bird Palace. With his ability, he qualifies," Mo Qingge said after some thought.
"Vermilion Bird Palace has never accepted men. You're breaking the rules, sis."
Mo Qingtian grinned playfully. He was curious what it would be like for a grown man to be surrounded by a group of women.
"Rules are made by people. I'm the one making the rules now," Mo Qingge said flatly.
"Understood."
Mo Qingtian smiled helplessly. Only his sister could say something so domineering with such composure.
"Tian'er, go. If I fail the tribulation, you know what to do."
Mo Qingge glanced at him, her eyes flashing with a hint of sorrow.
"Sister…"
Mo Qingtian opened his mouth but said nothing. Seeing his sister remain silent, he could only swallow his words.
She still refused to let him stay, insisting on facing this deadly ordeal alone. He knew what the consequences would be if she failed.
"…I understand."
Mo Qingtian lowered his head and turned silently.
Atop the mountain, only a lone figure remained…
Mo Wen was napping on his desk—it would've been a waste not to rest in the afternoon.
Qin Xiao sat beside him, holding a folding fan, listening to the lecture while gently fanning Mo Wen to keep him cool.
Mo Wen slept comfortably and even had a pleasant dream...
But just at the crucial part of the dream, a loud table slam jolted him awake like an earthquake.
"What are you doing?!"
Mo Wen glared at the person who had somehow appeared beside him—it was none other than Shen Jing. The day she had scolded him, he nearly lost his soul from fear.
"No sleeping during class!"
Shen Jing glared at Mo Wen, holding a textbook in one hand and the teacher's baton in the other—fully embodying teacherly authority.
How dare someone sleep during her class? In other classes, everyone behaved just fine.
"…"
Mo Wen looked at her speechlessly. He wasn't the only one sleeping, so why was she picking on him? Did she have a grudge?
"I wasn't sleeping."
Shen Jing gave Mo Wen a sharp look and returned smugly to the podium.
"I said, no sleeping during Shen Jing's class."
Qin Xiao looked at Mo Wen in surprise and gently patted his back to calm him down.
Mo Wen rolled his eyes. He had forgotten it was her class—it had been so quiet when he fell asleep, he hadn't realized class had started.
"Mind your own business during class," Mo Wen said as he tapped Qin Xiao on the head.
Qin Xiao snorted, giving Mo Wen a resentful glare. Just because he got scolded, now he was bullying her for revenge.
"Don't ask. Come to my office after class,"
After class, Shen Jing said this to Mo Wen before walking out of the room.
"What does Ms. Shen want with you?" Qin Xiao asked curiously. Did Mo Wen get punished for sleeping in class?
Who knows. Go see for yourself.
Mo Wen shrugged and strolled out of the classroom.
"I'll wait for you at the cafeteria entrance for dinner," Qin Xiao quickly called after him.
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