Chapter Twenty-Three The little insect said, "To be chosen by a dragon rider is an honor in itself."

“Excellent!” Wuyun finally found himself savoring the feeling he once had when he watched others covet food on Yinshi’s behalf. After finishing one segment, he handed the rest to the drooling Old Bear Three beside him and said, “It calms the mind, stabilizes the soul, and even cures stubborn ailments!”

Old Bear Three didn’t doubt him for a second. He hurriedly broke off a segment and stuffed it into his mouth. After chewing for a while, his expression didn’t change.

Seeing this, the Battle King, fearing Old Bear Three would swallow it all, snatched it away, twisted off a segment, and popped it into his own mouth. As he chewed, he and Old Bear Three nodded at each other, their faces enraptured. Their intoxicated expressions finally moved Liu Ruyan, Jiao Ying, and Little Worm, who ate their portions with tears streaming down their faces. As they finished, Long Yi, hidden in the sky, appeared and snatched away the remaining three segments.

Long Yi’s expression was peculiar. Shrinking his form, he tore off a bite, only to immediately sense he’d been tricked. With a spit and a glare at Wuyun, he vanished.

The last two segments were picked up by Queen Gu’s attendants. Afterward, Old Bear Three, shameless as always, asked for them and tucked them into his storage belt, casting Wuyun a look that seemed to say he could gladly swat him dead.

“It’s that bitter taste—seems like I’d need a cup of Suffering Cycle Tea to pair the two kinds of bitterness and find their sweetness. Exquisite!” Wuyun gave a sheepish grin. As for that tea—who knew if he’d ever taste it in this life.

He’d refined the Nine-Treasure Lotus Seeds just for a bite of bitter lotus root. The rest were speechless at Wuyun’s eccentricity. Soon after, Queen Gu took her leave, her graceful strides making Old Bear Three shake his head repeatedly: “Too skinny, not tasty!”

Suddenly, Wuyun asked, “Little Black Bear, how many times have you eaten a human?”

Old Bear Three hemmed and hawed, whispering, “I don’t eat people, I don’t eat people. Humans eat bear meat, bears eat human pills—it’s been ages, who can count how many times? Anyway, all those who came to hunt me are gone!”

“The cycle of the heavens—so it should be. Come, let’s take a stroll.” Wuyun mused, his gaze drifting to the distant sealed space where the Tiger-Faced Immortal was imprisoned, thick with lingering resentment that refused to disperse.

On the streets of the Seven Qi Dynasty, crowds bustled in celebration—some congratulating the Ninth Prince, King Ou, others bidding farewell to the Second Prince, King Ji.

Only the Fifth Prince, King Zhou, was in utter disgrace. Rumor had it he’d spoken ill of the Grand Master behind his back and been exiled to the borderlands, never to return.

Wuyun and the now-human Little Worm walked the streets, pausing at every candied hawthorn, every clay and wooden figurine, every earring and ornament, examining the details before shaking his head, muttering “Crude,” and moving on.

Trailing behind were Old Bear Three and the Battle King, man and beast chatting and laughing, having forgotten the pressure wrought by the Tiger-Faced Immortal. Leaving the city, Wuyun walked upon a land scarred by war—once fertile fields, now a wasteland.

“Prosperity brings suffering to the common people, ruin brings suffering to the common people!” Wuyun spoke from the heart. Little Worm quickly jotted it down, urging the Battle King, “Eight characters of truth, eight characters of truth—come, grasp their true meaning!”

The Battle King looked awkward. This bug from the Buddhist sect couldn’t grasp the meaning, could he only eat leaves and beg alms?

Only Old Bear Three seemed intrigued; after reciting a few lines, he mused, “Prosperity, bear suffers; ruin, bear suffers—truly profound!”

From the ruined wasteland came the faint sounds of weeping and the long-drawn cries of summoning souls, calling the spirits of the dead to return.

After driving away a few troublemaking minor demons, Wuyun returned in silence. According to the Seven Qi Dynasty’s casualty reports, 36,110 innocents had died, with countless wounded.

“This cat demon has forgotten his roots—he must die!” Wuyun resolved.

Long Yi’s dragon face appeared among the clouds, asking with interest, “Even I have to lay low—how will you kill him? Even the spirit of this space, the Dao of Heaven, can only banish him!”

“The moment I arrived here, I understood everything. If I say he must die, then die he shall!” Determination flashed in Wuyun’s eyes as he peered through layers of worlds to a distant locale.

Long Yi shivered. In this lowly realm, there was only one place he dared not go—the Magnetic Void, fully named the Xuantian Principle Magnetic Rift! This area, riddled with spatial fissures, was a domain of might—the stronger you are, the fiercer the challenge, as if the tribulation itself were tailored for you.

Some tribulations, in fact, emerged from within. The secrets of this place were known to few; even Immortal Emperors could only speculate.

But Wuyun, he would go without hesitation.

As a cultivation dynasty, they pooled their power to repair the teleportation array at astonishing speed. Since the other end of the array was still intact, there was no need to rebuild it from scratch. Once repairs were done, they were eager to depart.

Long Yi, however, blocked them. Even healed, he dared not remain here alone.

“This dynasty needs you.”

“On the contrary—my presence only endangers these people more. I’ll leave a mark of our destination!”

Wuyun, hearing this, felt as though he’d been sold out, while Long Yi, insistent on leaving together, seemed to savor the success of his scheme.

Wuyun understood, but let it pass.

At their departure, Queen Gu and the reigning King of Seven Qi came to bid them farewell. Wuyun shook his head, pointing outside the city: “Do what you can.”

The current king was speechless, but Queen Gu nodded in agreement.

Dealing with the clever is a pleasure; dealing with the too-clever, like Long Yi, is sheer torment.

After ten uses of the teleportation array, they found themselves facing a field of asteroids. Their flying treasures were smashed one after another until, after four were wrecked, they had no choice but to reveal their true forms and continue forward.

Long Yi’s body was immense—hundreds of meters long, gliding through the void with ease. Yet he insisted on riding atop Old Bear Three, declaring that being ridden by a dragon was an honor for the Thunder Bear of the demon race.

Little Worm nestled in Bear’s ear, whispering comfort. Wuyun, Liu Ruyan, and the Battle King rode the Jiao Eagle, following behind Old Bear Three.

Whenever meteors threatened, Old Bear Three always sensed them first. His silkworm-treasure extended around him, forming a cocoon that could detect any incoming attack in advance.

But there were always exceptions—tiny meteorites, harder than diamonds...

Crack!

The Jiao Eagle’s massive wings were struck, losing a few feathers and reverting to its original form. Now it too stood on Old Bear Three’s back, barely steady, when Bear gave a furious roar, his silkworm-treasure morphing into a sword that slashed in all directions.

This was the peak of Old Bear Three’s strength—yielding softness to overcome hardness, just enough to deflect a wave of meteors. But before he could catch his breath, another shower came.

After several breaches of their protective shields, Long Yi could bear it no longer. “Watch closely, Little Black Bear!”

With a wave of his left hand and a sweep of his right, Long Yi conjured a Taiji diagram. From this pattern emerged ten winding dragons; in a blink, one Taiji diagram became ten, then a hundred, layered thick before them.

Three hundred meters across, a hundred Taiji diagrams easily diverted the smashing rocks to either side. Then, as a treasure glimmered like a dragon’s touch, the Taiji pattern came alive—countless azure dragons appeared, each seizing a meteor and altering its course.

Long Yi shot Wuyun a glance. Wuyun snorted, “Parlor tricks. I only wanted the Little Black Bear to toughen up his body and bask in dragon might—who knew he’d falter so quickly!”

As Long Yi mocked him, suddenly the faith power sustaining him began to collapse. He grew furious, suspecting Wuyun of sabotage, and was about to retaliate when the collapse intensified—thousands of years of painstakingly gathered faith power lost its source.

“The Demon Emperor has escaped!” Long Yi was both shocked and angry. Hunted by his offspring, humiliated, and now having provoked a new lower-realm Demon Emperor.

Wuyun calculated on his fingers and shouted in anger, “The Tiger-Faced Immortal has destroyed the Seven Qi Dynasty and forcibly reversed the flow of faith power!”

“How could he…” Long Yi was speechless, but Old Bear Three grunted, “Isn’t it obvious? Subdue the imprisoned Rainbow Tree Demon and the peak divine experts like Southern Sky, and your dynasty collapses without a fight.”

Indeed, after exiling Fifth Prince Zhou, Second Prince Ji carved out his own faction and claimed the stars, fracturing the Seven Qi Dynasty’s power—internal strife and external threats led to its swift downfall.