She recalled what Meng Hao had said regarding showing the pill to Grandmaster Pill Demon. “He was probably just bragging. To expose him in this way really isn’t the right thing to do….”
At the moment, she hadn’t noticed the incredible change in Chu Yuyan’s facial expression when she laid eyes on the medicinal pill. She began to breathe heavily, causing Hanxue Shan to raise her head in astonishment. Chu Yuyan staggered back slightly, a blank look on her face.
“Senior Chu….”
Chu Yuyan closed her eyes for a long moment before opening them again. She looked at the character “snow” scratched onto the side of the pill, and then back up at Hanxue Shan. For some reason, a wave of irritation rose up in her heart.
“What is his name?” she asked, gritting her beautiful teeth.
Hanxue Shan was suddenly a bit frightened. Her voice low, she said, “Meng… Meng Hao….”
“Damnable Meng Hao!” growled Chu Yuyan through clenched teeth, unable to control her reaction. Her voice was filled with a complicated tone, including both irritation but also gratification. Now she knew that Meng Hao was not only safe but also doing quite well.
This caused the irritation in her heart to grow even stronger.
Hanxue Shan looked at her. Chu Yuyan was far above her in terms of both Cultivation base and status in the Sect. However, the anger on Hanxue Shan’s face was clearly visible.
“Why are you getting mad for him?” said Chu Yuyan with a sigh. “Meng Hao IS Grandmaster Pill Cauldron. He and Fang Mu are one and the same!” Chu Yuyan gave Hanxue Shan a final look, then handed the medicinal pill back to her and left.
Hanxue Shan looked as if she had been struck by lightning. She stood there with a blank look on her face, her mind spinning.
“He is Grandmaster Pill Cauldron….”
At the same time that these events were occurring, far off in the Western Desert was a stretch of desert plagued year round by sandstorms. The wailing, sand-filled wind rolled over the land, making it dark both day and night.
Anything that entered this place instantly could tell that it was like some sort of forbidden danger zone.
In the depths of this stretch of the desert was an altar complex half-buried in sand. Located inside the altar complex was a box the size of a hand. Suddenly, the box began to glow with dazzling light. At the same time, the wind outside grew more intense as it swept across the land. The flickering light began to transform into something that looked like a black sun capable of sweeping in everything around it.
A roaring sound emanated out from within the altar as the box suddenly flew out from inside. It shattered into pieces, whereupon a writhing mass of blood emerged from inside. The blood slowly began to take the shape of a person. This person appeared to be very weak. Eventually, the facial features became clear.
This was none other than the black-robed Spirit Severing Cultivator who had been killed by the Frigid Snow Clan’s Agarwood legacy!
He was not truly dead! His body had been killed, but his Dao remained. His essence was not exterminated, nor his life extinguished.
As time passed, the body finished growing. He lifted his right hand, causing a black robe to cover his frame. He slowly lifted up his head, and a look of grim rage could be seen in his eyes.
“A person who can accept the full branding of that legacy is not someone to be casually trifled with,” he said. “But just wait until I extricate myself from this place…. We will meet again!”
The former Holy Snow City was now nothing but a deep crater. Snow drifted about in the air, covering the bodies of the five thousand Cultivators who were located in its depths.
Located in the middle of all these Cultivators was a cocoon roughly three meters long. A boundless, pulsating aura emanated off of it. Over the past several days, the aura had grown stronger and stronger.
Suddenly, cracking sounds could be heard. The surrounding Cultivators all looked over at the cocoon, which was now shrinking. It sounded as if a wind had suddenly kicked up; its whimpering cry echoed out in all directions.
If you looked closely, you would see that there was actually no wind. Instead, the silk strands which made up the cocoon were beginning to unravel from the inside out. Soon, the cocoon was very thin, and speed of the shrinking increased rapidly until it was no longer like a wind, but a whirlwhind.
It prevented the surrounding Cultivators from seeing anything, but it did not prevent the intense aura from emanating outward.
The Cultivators began to back up slowly, watching the process for the time it takes an incense stick to burn. Slowly, a person appeared within the whirlwind. Lightning danced around him, and beneath his feet was a lake of lightning. It appeared as if this person now understood the will of lightning and exercised command over it.
After emerging completely, the Cultivators could now clearly see this person’s face. It was, of course, Patriarch Golden Light… Meng Hao