Li Shuangyan could hardly believe her eyes. She wondered if Li Qiye had seen the formation before — yet she immediately dismissed the thought. That fragment was a unique relic of the Formation Ancestor, purchased by her sect at tremendous cost. No one outside the Nine Saint Demon Gate knew of its existence.
Yet Li Qiye had looked once and explained it as if it were a simple diagram. To her, it had taken over a decade of study and several generations of guidance to comprehend even a corner of its mystery. He had solved it in a breath.
It was an absurd shock — and a heavy blow to pride. Even a genius could not break that fragment so easily. But Li Qiye was no ordinary genius.
She did not know that he had once owned the complete formation itself. Seeing the fragment merely reawakened a piece of memory long buried within his soul.
"Come here," Li Qiye said lightly, beckoning with a wave.
Still stunned, Li Shuangyan stepped forward without thinking. Her mind was blank; she did not know how she ended up at his side.
Then came three sharp smacks.
Slap!Slap!Slap!
Before she could react, she found herself pulled across his lap — and Li Qiye did not spare her in the least.
"W‑what are you doing?!" Li Shuangyan sprang up like a cat with its tail stepped on, her face flushed scarlet.
Li Qiye brushed his hands together as if nothing had happened.
"A maid must have the discipline of a maid," he said calmly. "I can protect and cherish those around me — even a maid — but don't test me. Don't think being a so‑called 'heaven's pride' lets you defy me."
"You —!" She trembled with rage. She was a princess of Gu‑Niu Kingdom, a beloved heir of the Demon Gate, and never in her life had anyone treated her so. Now this boy — this thirteen‑year‑old boy — had just spanked her! The humiliation burned hotter than fire.
Li Qiye simply waved a hand.
"Go find your own lodging. That's all."
"You … you arrogant little man!" she spat through gritted teeth. "Remember this!"
Storming off, still shaking with rage, she could hardly understand how a boy barely into his teens had left her this furious. All her life, others had vied for her favor — and he had dismissed her with a single sentence.
"Don't try cultivating the 'Slaughter Immortal Emperor Formation (屠仙帝阵)'," Li Qiye's voice came from behind. "The fragment you hold is less than one hundredth of the entire array. Force it, and it will destroy you. Even the Formation Ancestor never dared to practice it fully. When your Dao is mature enough, perhaps I'll teach you a little."
His tone was mild, his words outrageous. Who dared to say they would "teach" her? But he said it as though it were nothing.
Her body stiffened. The Slaughter Immortal Emperor Formation was a legend among legends — many doubted its existence. Yet to him, it was as ordinary as breathing.
She turned away, snorting in indignation, and left without another word.
Li Qiye did not care. He sat silently in the courtyard, gazing out into the distance. So many eras had passed since he last saw that formation.
The Slaughter Immortal Emperor Formation — peerless in all ages — but burdened with blood. Countless lives had been spent to create it; he himself had bled for it.
He remembered the ancient war of the Gu Ming Era. To defend the Human Emperor Realm and the Human Race, innumerable heroes perished within that formation. Under his command, the heavens collapsed and the stars bled. Those memories, etched deep into his soul, would never fade.
Time could erase everything — but not that.
Li Qiye exhaled slowly, letting the past slip away. That era was gone. In this life, he would rise again in the Nine Worlds and settle the debts of old — for himself and for those who had followed him to their deaths.
Li Shuangyan's arrival shocked the entire sect. The younger disciples were too excited to sleep; the elders treated it as a moment of paramount importance. Only Li Qiye remained unmoved. Whether she came or not mattered little. If she chose to follow him, she'd be one more capable hand. If not, he would find others.
Still fuming, she refused to live in his courtyard. Instead, she unfolded a treasure building and placed it on a corner of the solitary peak — close enough to watch him, but separate enough to make her point.
Her arrival and that of Yu He brought unexpected fortune to Protector Mo and Nan Huairen. As the two in charge of the visiting delegation's itinerary, their status rose sky‑high.
Yu He himself had specifically requested their service — out of respect for Li Qiye's wishes. From then on, they became liaisons between the two sects, authorized to communicate with Yu He directly.
In the past, even the Grand Elders could barely hope to see the Chief Protector of the Nine Saint Demon Gate. Now, two junior protectors in the Washing Dust Sect could speak to him freely — a sign of closer ties than ever before.
Their positions soared. Protector Mo soon outranked his peers, and Nan Huairen enjoyed a treatment that drew envy from second and third generation disciples alike.
Li Qiye paid no attention to such matters. His focus was on building a flawless foundation for his Dao. No hurry, no flaws — a foundation was everything. Even a minor crack could doom a future immortal.
He had seen too many geniuses vanish in their decline because their foundation was rushed. So he slowed his cultivation deliberately, reinforcing his basis again and again, never allowing a single imperfection.
Were it not for his self‑imposed restraint, his Dao could have already leapt into higher realms such as Longevity or True Life. But he preferred stability over speed.
On the seventh day after Li Shuangyan's arrival, Nan Huairen came to visit, accompanied by a middle‑aged man.
"Senior Brother, this is Hall‑Master Zhou from the Martial Instruction Hall on Washing Stone Peak," Nan introduced.
Li Qiye nodded slightly. "What is it?"
To Hall‑Master Zhou, his attitude seemed contemptuous. The man snorted and said nothing.
Nan hurried to explain. "The elders have decided that you'll temporarily take over for Hall‑Master Zhou to teach his disciples. He's brought the register and student records. They ask that you begin in seven days."
Zhou placed the scrolls down without a word. He clearly took offense — as a hall‑master, he was unused to being treated so indifferently. Leaving without further greeting, he did not even bother to hide his displeasure.
Li Qiye watched him go, expression unchanged — as if none of it mattered in the least.