Chapter 295

Chapter 295

Jiang Chen chose to travel the mortal world with Zi Qingyan, guiding her to question her innermost self. He didn’t want Zi Qingyan to follow the same path as in the original tale, where she became a mere part of the vast heavens and earth, devoid of any personal emotions.

Among the characters, Zi Qingyan’s fate was perhaps the most tragic. Though she appeared a few times, her emotions were utterly erased, turning her into a vessel for the Dao of the heavens.

While her physical body remained, her humanity was gone—transformed into an emotionless medium for the Dao.

Jiang Chen refused to let Zi Qingyan face such a fate. He sought to save her. Yet, if she were resolute in her chosen path, Jiang Chen wouldn’t forcefully intervene.

Everyone has their own journey. Once a path is decided, forcibly changing it could lead to the collapse of their foundation, their Dao heart crumbling, and their resolve forever shattered.

Thankfully, Zi Qingyan hadn’t completely lost her emotions like in the original story. While her personality remained detached and aloof—characteristic of her former life’s “three-no-girl” demeanor—she still retained faint traces of emotions.

—

“Did you foresee that I would eventually dissolve into the Dao? Is that why you arranged today’s events?” Zi Qingyan lifted her head to look at Jiang Chen, her tone questioning yet calm.

Having confronted her inner self, Zi Qingyan seemed to have gained clarity. Her expression now carried a hint of human warmth, making her appear more like a person than the emotionless automaton she once seemed.

“Yes,” Jiang Chen admitted. “Everyone on Banished Immortal Peak knows of these matters. Your question doesn’t surprise me.”

Jiang Chen gently pinched Zi Qingyan’s cheeks and said with a soft smile, “You and I are Dao companions. I cannot bear to see my Dao companion become an emotionless being.”

“Moreover, one doesn’t need to abandon all emotions to ascend to immortality. The word ‘immortal’ begins with ‘human.’ I want you to be an immortal with feelings, not a tool for the Dao.”

“Of course,” Jiang Chen added, “if you insist on this path, I will not stop you. Once the road is chosen, not even I can alter your fate.”

Looking at her, Jiang Chen’s smile grew deeper. “For now, it seems you haven’t fallen too far into detachment.”

Zi Qingyan’s expression turned peculiar. She said softly, “Is there a chance that I never intended to abandon all emotions?”

“While the Dao is lofty, it is ultimately far too lonely. The liveliness of Banished Immortal Peak has already left its mark on me. I can no longer return to my former solitude.”

Her voice grew more introspective as she continued, her eyes glimmering with memories. Her time at Banished Immortal Peak had introduced her to a life unlike the lonely days at the Supreme Dao Sect.

At Supreme Dao Sect, her pursuit of the Dao left her isolated. Even her master rarely stayed by her side. In those endless, monotonous days, the Dao became her only solace, consuming her entirely. Over time, her personality grew colder, quieter, and emptier.

Recognizing this, the sect leader of Supreme Dao Sect sent her to the Supreme Palace. The dual purpose was to allow her to compete in the Supreme Hall and to experience the myriad facets of the mortal world, understanding that life held more than just the Dao. However, the time was too short to bring about significant change.

It wasn’t until she joined Banished Immortal Peak that things shifted.

Jing Muyu’s occasional inquiries, Yan Ruyu’s challenges, and the guidance and conversations with figures like the Primordial Holy Master and Mu Jianxue brought new colors into Zi Qingyan’s once black-and-white world.

“This is a good thing,” Jiang Chen said with a smile.

Zi Qingyan sighed softly. “The important matter you mentioned earlier—is it what you spoke of today, or is it the inheritance of the Eternal Emperor?”

Jiang Chen replied, “Both. But your growth is far more important. The Eternal Emperor’s inheritance won’t go anywhere. I can retrieve it at any time.”

His focus was clear. Zi Qingyan’s mental state took precedence. Now that it was resolved, everything else could proceed smoothly—including obtaining the Eternal Emperor’s legacy.

Walking amidst the crowds like ordinary beings, Jiang Chen and Zi Qingyan entered the vast Eternal Mountain. The mountain was massive, riddled with countless formations.

A single misstep could lead to being teleported to the foot of the mountain, rendering days of effort wasted.

However, Jiang Chen and Zi Qingyan, with their acute sensitivity to the Dao, navigated the formations with ease. To them, the traps were as obvious as fireflies in the dark—impossible to trigger.

Furthermore, under the protection of the All-Heaven Mirror, the odds of being affected by the teleportation formations were as slim as winning a lottery.

In this realm of survival of the fittest, governed by strict rules, only strength and determination ensured progress.

In this desolate wilderness, desires were magnified exponentially, leading to constant violence and conflict. Two seemingly frail figures with concealed auras walking through such a place naturally drew attention.

Suddenly, a sharp sword strike came from behind, slicing through the air with a piercing whistle.

“Just as I thought—two rookies with no experience!” mocked a man with wings on his back, his tone laced with derision as he smirked at Jiang Chen and Zi Qingyan. It seemed ridiculous to him that they dared to traverse such a treacherous place without sufficient caution.

But in the next instant, the man’s smirk froze. Without any apparent sign, the sword in his hand shattered. A calm voice echoed, “Today, I’m in a good mood, so I won’t kill you. Leave now!”

The winged man’s pupils contracted, and his body trembled. Without looking back, he fled like a streak of divine light, darting downwards.

He had no thoughts of revenge. The effortless way his attack was neutralized made him realize that these two individuals’ strength was unfathomable. Killing him would have been trivial for them. The fact that he survived was likely due to sheer mercy.

“This is already the eighth wave,” Zi Qingyan said calmly. “It seems that no matter how low-profile we try to be, we still can’t escape being targeted.”

In the mere half-day since their arrival, they had already been attacked eight times. The higher they climbed, the more frequent the ambushes became. These assailants were cautious, striking from the shadows without revealing themselves.

“In a place like this, everyone is both predator and prey,” Jiang Chen explained. “Every individual is a hidden treasure. If someone looks unthreatening, it’s almost inevitable they’ll be attacked.”

He smiled slightly. “And we do appear frail and vulnerable—prime targets. It’d be stranger if no one came after us.”