Chapter 142: Past Events, Before the Gates of the Zixiao Palace

After all the Da Luo cultivators departed, the turbulent currents of earth, water, fire, and wind once again surged in this region.

It resembled a breached embankment, where the primordial elements of earth, water, fire, and wind raged with abnormal ferocity.

However, such ordinary elemental chaos posed no threat whatsoever to the Ancestral Witches.

To their formidable physical bodies, this level of intensity felt more like soaking in a hot spring—exceptionally comfortable.

The Ancestral Witch Shebihu even stretched out heavily and lay flat on the ground, allowing the elemental torrents to converge all over his body.

"Big Brother, did you really just let that feathered scoundrel of the demon race leave with his underlings like that?"

The Ancestral Witch Zhurong opened his eyes, let out a long breath, and his muscular chest expelled a gust of turbid air that scattered the surrounding energy:

"Based on that strike just now, I have a rough measure of their strength. Even if they attacked me a thousand or ten thousand times, they could hardly truly damage my foundation. If our brothers and sisters joined forces, we naturally should have..."

Before Zhurong could finish his words, he suddenly felt a chilling sensation sweep over him. A layer of hard frost rapidly formed over his mouth and upper body, freezing him solid on the spot.

The Ancestral Witch Houtu—wait, Xuanming—gradually withdrew the bone spurs and frost from her body, transforming into the appearance of a delicate little girl. She skipped over to the side of the Ancestral Witch Houtu, mimicking Zhurong's tone of voice to mock him:

"Naturally, we should have been suppressed by the decree of the Saint Hongjun, and then given a thorough beating by the demon race."

Boom!

Hearing this, Zhurong flushed a deep crimson, and roaring flames ignited across his entire head, instantly melting the thick layer of ice encasing him and evaporating it into nothingness in the blink of an eye.

"Xuanming!"

He let out a low growl, his expression rather unsightly. Although he hadn't suffered any actual injuries just now, it was still thoroughly vexing.

"What? You want to pick a fight?"

Xuanming shrank back slightly, hiding behind Houtu, yet she continued her provocation:

"So what if you're an elder? It's a pity seniority isn't decided by combat prowess; otherwise, I'd be the eldest sister!"

"You..."

Zhurong stammered for a moment, unable to come up with any retort. He could only swallow his anger as the ambient temperature began to rise, and runic patterns flickered once again across his physique, which had previously retracted its Ancestral Witch true form.

It wasn't that he didn't want to argue back, but rather that he had no way to do so.

The twelve Ancestral Witches had naturally sparred among themselves; no one had truly lost, but neither had anyone won. If one were to speak of pure combat strength, placing Xuanming in the top spot was not entirely inaccurate.

Besides... he truly couldn't do anything to her.

Furthermore, Xuanming and Houtu were the only two female Ancestral Witches among the twelve, so he usually tolerated them quite a bit...

Added to that, her analysis was entirely correct. If they had insisted on pressing the attack, they would undoubtedly have been suppressed by that decree, which would have led to genuine trouble.

Forget it. One more time won't kill me. I'll endure it!

......

Seeing that Zhurong had fallen silent, Di Jiang inwardly let out a sigh of relief: If they had continued bickering like this, it surely would have erupted into another physical brawl.

Among the twelve Ancestral Witches, only Jumang, Houtu, and Zhu Jiuyin gave him peace of mind; the rest mostly gave him headaches.

Of course, there was also the most worry-free one of all—Shebihu, who had already begun snoring softly nearby...

Di Jiang began to analyze the situation of this recent battle, running deductions in his sea of consciousness. As his thoughts raced like lightning, a realization struck him, and he raised his eyes to look at Houtu:

"Since the Eastern Emperor Taiyi did not separate from the other demons, who exactly were you two chasing?"

"It was the Qingqiu fox."

Houtu's expression carried a hint of solemnity as a brownish aura of earth energy flowed forth, gradually condensing into a figure:

"At that time, that Qingqiu fox lured us into a pre-arranged illusionary realm, evidently intending to buy time.

Had we broken out of it by force, it naturally would have required a certain amount of time. However, our ninth brother employed his authority over time to reverse the flow, sending us back to the moment before the formation was even set up, allowing us to break free.

By the time we rushed back, it was almost time for the little attendant by the Saint's side to arrive."

The Qingqiu fox...

Hearing this, a trace of old memories stirred in Di Jiang's heart. He glanced at the sleeping Shebihu and remained silent.

The ancient wilderness had long since undergone vicissitudes, shifting from oceans to mulberry fields, and naturally, Qingqiu no longer existed.

"Did that fox say anything?"

After a long silence, Di Jiang still couldn't resist asking.

This...

Hearing the question, Houtu began to ponder whether there was any useful information hidden within.

She was naturally aware of the Qingqiu fox clan, but such awareness did not mean they had much interaction. Unless the other party revealed their true form, without careful probing, one could not easily discern their identity.

After all, they hadn't exchanged many blows; relying solely on an illusionary realm made it somewhat difficult to trace their origins.

Unless the other party showed their fox tail.

There was only that single sentence.

Failing to find any truly useful information after much thought, Houtu had no choice but to recount those words:

"That Qingqiu fox once asked Shebihu whether he had forgotten the homeland where he once lived."

Homeland...

Di Jiang's expression remained completely unchanged as he gazed into the distance, as if wishing to summon that Qingqiu fox and question her in person.

As for Shebihu, who had been sleeping soundly, he bolted upright, looking around with a face full of confusion.

"Who's calling me?"

......

The Saint's dwelling in the midst of chaos, the Z霄 Palace beyond the Primordial Heavens.

The three figures of Hongyun traveled at a moderate pace, leisurely arriving outside the Zixiao Palace.

Looking at the Zixiao Palace suspended within the chaos, its bronze doors remained tightly shut.

A sparse gathering of familiar faces stood about, confirming their expectations and causing the three of them to breathe a sigh of relief.

Since it hadn't opened prematurely, things would be much easier to handle.

The three advanced together, and several Da Luo cultivators, upon seeing them, stepped forward to exchange casual remarks, all of which Zhenyuanzi handled smoothly.

Hongyun stepped forward, utilizing the technique of shrinking dimensions into inches, and arrived directly in front of the main gates.

The surroundings remained desolate and cold. As he gazed at the doors, after staring for a long time, the engraved patterns began to shift bit by bit, as if coming to life and rushing toward his sea of consciousness.

Though this level of impact would not cause him any real harm, it still forced a muffled groan from his throat.

Yet that was the extent of it. Collecting his thoughts, a faint joy arose in his heart.

If his eyes did not deceive him, this should be an interlocking array formation.

If he could comprehend it and carve it onto the gates of his own immortal palace, wouldn't that be extremely prestigious?

Thinking thusly, Hongyun intended to study it a bit further.

However, at that very moment, his expression turned slightly cold as he paused and looked to the side.

Just a moment ago, amidst the stillness, he fancied he had heard a soft sneer.

Hearing such a laugh in itself wouldn't matter much, but given his level of cultivation, even on the verge of a great calamity, he should have been able to perceive anyone at such close range.

That sneer had been directed squarely at him!

How long had it been since the last time I grew angry?

Abandoning his contemplation of the Zixiao Palace gates, he traced the thread of karma and stepped forward, arriving directly before that Da Luo cultivator.