The jade bottle thrown by Zhu Qinglan glided with a pure icy-blue radiance, slicing through the air and landing precisely before Zhi Xuan. A heavenly fragrance seeping from the mouth of the bottle instantly calmed the chaotic energy ripples around the floating stones. The Sacred Fairy's action was not merely an offering of medicine; it was a blatant declaration of support before all the ancient clan elders and the practitioners of the plains.

  Seeing this, Wan Xing seethed with rage. His teeth ground together, holding back a fury that nearly made his head explode. "Sacred Fairy! You give your personal cultivation dew to this ghost? Has the dignity of the Ancient Zhu Clan fallen so low that it must pity him?!"

  Zhi Xuan opened his eyes, caught the jade bottle, and looked at Zhu Qinglan in the distance. The corner of his lip curled into a thin smile—a smile he reserved only for her. Without hesitation, he drank its contents. Instantly, a pure chill flowed through his meridians, washing away the wounds caused by the Silent Hermit's law of decay and restoring his inner essence.

  The coldness from Qinglan's frost dew seeped into his very marrow, knitting back the strands of his fractured meridians. Within a few breaths, the gray mist surrounding Zhi Xuan's body was absorbed, leaving behind a figure who now stood with an even sharper aura, as if he were a blade newly honed by the hands of a goddess.

  Zhi Xuan stood up slowly, crushing the empty jade bottle into spiritual dust. His sapphire eyes shifted to Wan Xing. "Isn't that exactly what a Sacred Fairy should do for her Dao Protector? What are you talking about, Wan Xing?"

  He waved his hand, and in a single breath, the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron emerged, whistling and spinning low above his palm. Suddenly, the surrounding air felt so heavy it seemed as though Zhi Xuan held an immense weight within that Divine Cauldron. If the Mountain and River Style Secret carried the will of an Ancient God, then the Xuan-Huang energy tempered within the Divine Cauldron was the answer.

  "There is no need to exchange Domains, for I have already seen yours," Zhi Xuan said coldly, gazing at the Divine Cauldron spinning in his palm. "Are you capable of exchanging a single technique with this Divine Cauldron?"

  Zhi Xuan raised his hand. The Divine Cauldron immediately expanded, and it felt as if the massive floating stones around him were being pressed downward. The spiritual vibration did not destroy; rather, everything present felt as if it were being returned to the earth. Zhi Xuan remained unmoving, standing arrogantly in mid-air.

  "A Divine Cauldron? Xuan-Huang Energy?" Wan Xing raised the technique disk in his hand high toward the moon. "Zhi Xuan, you indeed possess extraordinary secrets. However, before an Ancient God Style, all forms of matter are merely brushstrokes that can be erased in an instant!"

  "Oh, really?" Zhi Xuan replied with a faint smile. "Then I shall use no technique at all; it will be enough to simply throw this Divine Cauldron at you."

  "Prove your boast!" Wan Xing roared. He stomped his foot in the air, triggering a blinding explosion of silver light. Atop his palm, the Mountain and River Style Secret disk began to glow intensely, projecting a vast ancient scroll painting that stretched out to cover the horizon.

  In an instant, the sky above the Imperial City changed. The clouds were sucked into the scroll, replaced by a landscape of ancient mountain peaks and heavenly rivers that looked frighteningly real. This was power beyond ordinary techniques; a manipulation of reality capable of imprisoning an enemy within a painted world created by the user's will.

  "Mountain and River Style: Painted Realm Prison!"

  Zhi Xuan did not flinch as the world around him began to fade, replaced by the towering peaks within Wan Xing's artificial dimension. With a movement that looked casual yet carried an authority that oppressed the heavens, he pushed his palm forward.

  "Go."

  WUUUUUUNG—!

  The Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron shot forward. The Divine Cauldron did not move at lightning speed; instead, it glided slowly, carrying a weight as if all the mountain ranges in the Xing Luo Plains had been compressed into that single bronze vessel. Xuan-Huang energy—the essence from the beginning of heaven and earth—leaked from the mouth of the cauldron, creating a trail of distorted space behind it.

  Every time the Divine Cauldron spun, the natural laws within Wan Xing’s Mountain and River Painting shrieked. The artificial mountain peaks instantly crumbled, and the heavenly rivers evaporated into nothingness before they could even touch Zhi Xuan’s body. The weight of the Xuan-Huang energy was too real for an illusion to bear, even if that illusion originated from an Ancient God's style.

  "An incomplete technique disk," Zhi Xuan hissed, his voice sharpening. "Show me everything you have."

  "Fine! Finally, you show your fangs!" Wan Xing roared from the center of his star storm. His eyes no longer reflected human light but were like black holes filled with cosmic sparks. "You think that old cauldron can withstand the weight of the entire Western Continent’s sky? Feel this!"

  Wan Xing’s Ten Thousand Heavenly Stars Domain exploded in terrifying grandeur. Within the painting altar created by the Mountain and River Style, the star constellations began to merge with the ancient mountain landscape. The stars fell from the painted sky, not as meteors, but as weights of natural law attempting to lock the movement of the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron.

  Every starlight glow within the domain resonated with Wan Xing’s heartbeat. He spread his arms, and instantly, thousands of silver light chains emerged from between the constellations, coiling around the air surrounding Zhi Xuan’s Divine Cauldron. Wan Xing intended to halt the cauldron's progress by forcing his own law of space upon it.

  However, the sight that followed made the entire audience in the honorary stands hold their breath. The Divine Cauldron continued its path. Every chain of starlight that touched it instantly shattered into pieces, unable to withstand the density of the Xuan-Huang energy overflowing from within.

  The pressure produced by the cauldron began to radiate out of the painted dimension, piercing through the altar's protective formation until the Soul Transformation practitioners in the front rows were forced to retreat several steps, their faces pale.

  "This pressure... it’s not just spiritual energy!" exclaimed an Elder from the Nine Clouds Sect. "This is the weight of the world's origin! If that cauldron falls to the earth, half of the Imperial City will collapse!"

  Wan Xing began to feel beads of cold sweat soaking his temples. He could feel his inner soul trembling violently. In his eyes, the approaching Divine Cauldron was no longer a weapon; it felt like the undeniable will of heaven.

  "No! I am the Son of Heaven! My sky will not fall to a piece of old bronze!" Wan Xing screamed hysterically. He bit his tongue, spitting essence blood toward the Mountain and River Style Secret disk.

  Instantly, the painted world surged. The mountains within began to rise, forming stone giants that tried to halt the cauldron's advance. In the sky, Wan Xing’s constellations merged to form a giant spear of light aimed directly at Zhi Xuan’s heart.

  "Die! Heavenly Mountain Star Judgment!"

  The wave of energy produced by the combined technique was so immense it split the clouds above the Imperial City for dozens of li. Practitioners below the altar began to scatter, seeking shelter as the spiritual pressure started to destroy the floating stones around the combat area and the Sky Moon Tree altar below.

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  Zhi Xuan remained standing with his arms folded across his chest. His dark purple hair did not move an inch, as if the energy storm before him was merely a weak spring breeze. His sapphire eyes stared piercingly at Wan Xing, whose meridians were now bulging and reddening across his entire body from the strain.

  Just as the spear of starlight almost touched the tip of Zhi Xuan’s nose and the painted stone giants nearly grasped the Divine Cauldron, Zhi Xuan simply flicked his finger.

  KLING.

  The sound was small, yet it echoed above the roaring storm. In an instant, all the pressure carried by the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron vanished. The cauldron stopped spinning, and with a speed the naked eye could not follow, it shrank and shot back into Zhi Xuan’s palm.

  All the heavy weight oppressing the altar vanished instantly. Wan Xing’s Mountain and River painted dimension shattered into pieces because it suddenly lost its target. The force of Wan Xing’s attack, which had been released at full capacity, now had nothing to hit, causing the energy to explode in empty air and backlash into the surroundings.

  Wan Xing staggered. He spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, his body trembling violently not just from the fear of the weight that had previously loomed over him, but from the sudden loss of law equilibrium. He stared at Zhi Xuan with eyes filled with profound confusion and terror.

  "Why... why did you withdraw it?" Wan Xing asked in a hoarse voice, almost a whisper.

  Zhi Xuan looked at the Divine Cauldron in his hand, then stored it back into his sea of consciousness. He stepped forward calmly through the air, approaching Wan Xing, who now looked like a small snake before a dragon.

  "I told you from the beginning, Wan Xing," Zhi Xuan said, his voice cold and clear, echoing through the square. "I did not wish to fight your Domain. I only wanted to see if you were capable of exchanging a single technique with my Divine Cauldron. And look at you... you were so terrified that you exerted all your strength just to stop its movement."

  Zhi Xuan stopped exactly three steps in front of Wan Xing. The mental pressure radiated by Zhi Xuan caused Wan Xing to fall to his knees in mid-air, the technique disk in his hand falling and dimming.

  "A practitioner who loses his inner composure just by seeing the weight of matter is unworthy of discussing the Dao with me," Zhi Xuan continued. "You say you want to be a Dao Protector? You cannot even protect your own Dao Heart from the shadows of fear."

  Zhi Xuan turned toward the honorary stands, then shifted his gaze to Zhu Qinglan, who stood gracefully in the distance. "You have lost, Wan Xing. Not because your technique was weaker, but because your soul is too small to contain the vastness of the sky you boast of."

  A total silence fell over the place. The Western Continent practitioners, who were previously so vocal, now lowered their heads, not daring to look at Zhi Xuan’s face. Lie Huo and the Silent Hermit, who were recovering in the distance, could only sigh in resignation; they realized the gap between them was no longer about cultivation levels, but a much deeper understanding of self-control.

  Wan Xing bowed his head low, his hands clutching the empty air. All his pride as a Son of Heaven had turned to dust in a single afternoon. He realized that from the start, Zhi Xuan had never considered him an opponent, but merely a small test to prove that the title of Fifth Envoy was not an empty name.

  However, just as he felt utterly defeated, he felt his shoulder gripped by a hand that felt cold and rough. He looked up, staring at Zhi Xuan, who looked at him flatly but no longer with killing intent. He felt his depleted inner energy being slowly replenished, as if a spring was flowing through him, clearing his mind and realigning his shaken balance.

  "You are not like Shi Xing," Zhi Xuan said flatly, looking at Wan Xing. "If Shi Xing is your Senior, then I understand the pride of being a Western Star. But you possess a talent greater than his. Today, I do not kill you because it would only soil my hands."

  Zhi Xuan released his grip on Wan Xing’s shoulder, like a Senior who had just taught a Junior. He turned away, glanced back slightly, and smiled faintly. "You are like your Senior, yet also not. You stood here, challenged me, and lost the wager. I, Zhi Xuan, respect that. When I see you again, I had better see no more fear in those eyes of yours."

  Wan Xing was stunned, frozen in the empty air while the vibrations in his meridians slowly subsided, replaced by a strange warmth spreading from where Zhi Xuan had gripped him. He watched the man’s retreating back, a back that looked like an eternal mountain unshaken even by a star storm. His pride, which had been shattered to pieces, now left behind a new seed—not a burning grudge, but a respect that emerged from the deepest depths of his soul.

  "Zhi... Xuan..." Wan Xing whispered hoarsely. He reached for the dimmed Mountain and River Style Secret disk near his feet, and then, with trembling hands, he cupped his fists and bowed deeply toward the back of the Fifth Envoy. "Thank you... for the Senior's guidance."

  Zhi Xuan did not look back. He continued to walk through the air, each step creating a fading ripple of light, toward where the Heavenly Sword was still firmly planted before Zhu Qinglan. Every eye in the Sky Moon Tree square followed his movements with bated breath. There were no more shouts of insult, no more doubt; all that remained was a sacred admiration for the figure who had just redefined the meaning of true strength.

  Zhi Xuan landed lightly before Zhu Qinglan. He grasped the hilt of the Heavenly Sword, and with a smooth tug, the pitch-black blade was drawn, emitting a low hum as if greeting the return of its master. With utter tranquility, Zhi Xuan rewrapped the white cloth around the sword, hiding the aura of slaughter behind the folds of coarse silk.

  The entire square was still gripped by silence until finally, Zhu Yanghai stood up from his jade chair. He burst into boisterous laughter, his voice booming and breaking the stiff silence.

  "Marvelous! Truly a sight to behold!" Zhu Yanghai exclaimed while clapping his hands. He turned toward the elders of other factions who were still frozen. "Well, Fellow Daoists? Is there anyone among you who still wishes to doubt the qualifications of my sister’s chosen Dao Protector? If so, please step up. I myself will lend you a weapon if you feel you are lacking!"

  An Elder from a Western Continent sect coughed awkwardly, his face turning red. "Divine Son Zhu jokes. After witnessing that Divine Cauldron and the understanding of Reincarnation... who among us would dare look for trouble? The Fifth Envoy indeed remains the Fifth Envoy."

  Among the geniuses, Lie Huo, who had been helped up by his disciples, stared at Zhi Xuan with a complicated gaze. He wiped the remaining blood from his lip and muttered softly, "I always felt that the sky of the Eastern Continent was the highest. Today, I realize I am merely a frog in a well admiring the reflection of the stars."

  The Silent Hermit, sitting cross-legged while holding his cracked staff, only nodded slowly. "Wan Xing's courage to bow is his greatest victory today. We are all lucky... this ghost of the past did not choose to turn this Dao Discussion into a slaughterhouse."

  Zhu Qinglan looked at Zhi Xuan, who now stood right beside her. Her clear eyes were misty, reflecting the man who had just shaken the world for her dignity. "You... you played with him too much, Zhi Xuan."

  "Played with him?" Zhi Xuan chuckled lowly, his voice heard only by Qinglan. "I only gave him a small lesson so he wouldn't carelessly paint mountains and rivers if he doesn't know how heavy the ground he stands on truly is."

  He then looked toward Wan Xing, who was still bowing in the distance. "Wan Xing! You lost the wager. Give the technique disk to the Sacred Fairy. It is her right now."

  Wan Xing flinched, then with steps that were still slightly shaky, he flew closer. He no longer showed an arrogant face. With both hands trembling, he presented the Mountain and River Style Secret Disk to Zhu Qinglan.

  "Sacred Fairy... I admit defeat. As promised, this belongs to you," Wan Xing said with a sincere tone. He then glanced at Zhi Xuan for a moment, swallowed hard, and said, "Senior Zhi Xuan, one day... if I have understood the meaning of the world's weight, may I come again just to pour tea for you?"

  Zhi Xuan narrowed his eyes, then snorted softly, though it contained no malice. "Take care of those messy meridians of yours first. If you die before reaching the Divine Transformation realm, your tea will only taste like plain water to me."

  Wan Xing smiled bitterly, but there was relief on his face. He bowed once more before retreating to join his group. The Western Continent practitioners immediately surrounded him, not with shouts of victory, but with a new, respectful silence.

  Zhu Yanghai stepped down from the stand, approaching Zhi Xuan and his sister. He slapped Zhi Xuan’s shoulder hard. "Well done, brother-in-law! You didn't just win the fight; you stole the hearts of these geniuses. Look at the faces of those elders; they must be thinking hard about how to establish good relations with you now."

  "I don't need good relations with them," Zhi Xuan replied flatly as he shouldered the Heavenly Sword once more. "I only need them to know where they stand."

  Zhu Qinglan accepted the technique disk, but her attention remained on Zhi Xuan. She could feel the remnants of her frost dew's chill still working within Zhi Xuan’s body. "The Dao Discussion has ended. Brother, let these guests rest. I wish to take my Dao Protector back to the pavilion."

  "Of course, of course!" Yanghai winked. "Take him away. I’ll deal with these old rats and ensure their tributes are doubled for causing a ruckus in front of my house!"

  As Zhi Xuan and Qinglan walked side by side leaving the square, the practitioners made way for them. They bowed their heads as the two passed—one figure representing untouchable heavenly grace, and the other representing an ancient power capable of toppling the sky.

  "Little devil," Ruo Xianxue hissed from his sea of consciousness, her laughter small yet piercing. "You let him go just like that? Didn't you say you would terrify him until he could no longer stand?"