After being reborn, the villain comes with a spoiler tag.

At the top of the sheer cliff, a lone pine tree stood proudly, and Dongxuzi stood with his hands behind his back below it. His face, which usually carried a cynical expression, now held a rare solemnity.

Within the Qiankun Dao Sect, Daoist Wuji stood on the Star Gazing Platform, gazing at the calamity clouds in the sky for a long time before suddenly reaching out to cast a divination. However, before the divination could take shape clearly, it vanished without a trace, like wisps of smoke.

"The secrets of heaven are in chaos..."

He murmured softly, his expression inscrutable.

Deep in the Gobi Desert at the southern tip of the mainland, the clusters of temples appear exceptionally solemn and dignified under the golden sunlight.

An old monk, clad in a crimson robe, held a twelve-ringed staff, his face resolute, like an angry Vajra. Beside him stood a young novice monk with a youthful face, seemingly no more than twenty years old, yet emanating a powerful aura of a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator.

The old monk gazed at the clouds of calamity, his brows furrowed, remaining silent, while the young monk lowered his eyes, his gaze clear as water, devoid of joy or sorrow.

On the lakeside behind the Xuan Tian Sword Sect, Dao Yi casually leaned against an ancient pine branch, the gourd in his hand tilting slightly, its amber liquid spilling out. Beside him, a man in blue sat quietly fishing by the lake, his fishing line motionless in the light breeze and drizzle.

The two seemed oblivious to the strange sight in the east, as if the only things in the world were the wine in their hands and the fishing rod in their palms.

On the cloud platform of Fanghu Immortal Abode, a game of chess sat quietly on the stone table. A woman with her hair tied up, dressed in a blue Taoist robe, placed a white piece in her hand, her jade fingers lightly tapping the chessboard.

The Taoist Master Ziyang, holding a black piece, stared intently at the board, pondering for a long time before finally letting out a sigh.

"The outcome is decided, and what's done is done. Alas, I've lost this game. Even after all these centuries, I still can't beat you."

The woman, dressed as a hermit, smiled but remained silent, turning her head to look eastward, her eyes reflecting the golden sea of ​​lightning.

Of all the onlookers, Yuheng was the most nervous.

He was closest to the tribulation clouds at this moment and could truly feel the oppressive force brought by the terrifying heavenly might. At such close range, he witnessed Tianquan effortlessly withstand one powerful tribulation lightning bolt after another.

As Tianquan successfully resolved the crisis time and time again, Yuheng's tense expression finally eased, and his anxious heart gradually settled down.

However, just as the situation was becoming clearer, a vibrant green "water droplet" suddenly burst forth from the northwest without warning.

The light, initially just a sliver, instantly transformed into a vast, azure torrent that blotted out the sky. Wherever it passed, lotuses bloomed in the void, and countless azure lotuses blossomed amidst golden clouds. In an instant, boundless vitality permeated the air, and rich wood-attribute spiritual energy rapidly filled this world.

The sky, which was originally as brilliant as molten gold, began to dim under the impact of this spiritual light, like ink diluted with water.

The metal element power gathered around Tianquan stopped converging under the intense disturbance of this abundant vitality, and instead began to disperse and dissipate.

The metal veins that had been formed in the earth's veins due to Tianquan's tribulation collapsed in the blink of an eye, replaced by wildly growing vegetation—towering ancient trees rose from the ground, vines coiled around the mountains like dragons, and even tender green shoots burst forth from the cracks in the rocks.

Wood gives birth to metal, and the abundant vitality generated by the rich wood-attribute spiritual energy actually dispersed the metal-attribute spiritual energy gathered by Tianquan.

Upon seeing this scene, not only did Yuheng's expression change drastically, but all the Nascent Soul stage cultivators who were watching from afar also realized that Tianquan had failed his tribulation.

……

After that, the lightning struck for another day and night, finally gradually stopping at dawn on the fourth day.

The calamity clouds, which blotted out the sky, resembled a huge black curtain, slowly spreading outwards.

The crimson-gold light gradually faded, leaving only a deep golden glow, like solidified twilight, heavily enveloping the entire sky.

Directly beneath this golden light lies Immortal Spirit Island, where the Lingxiao Palace is located.

At this moment, all the disciples of Lingxiao Palace on Immortal Spirit Island knelt on the ground, their expressions filled with grief. Above where they knelt, a slender figure stood in the center of the golden light filling the sky.

Master Tianquan was still wearing that simple Taoist robe, but the wooden hairpin in his hair was nowhere to be found, and his long hair, like a waterfall, swayed in the wind, as if it would also be carried away by the wind.

Her face remained calm as her gaze followed the gold and iron filings raining down from the sky. Countless complex emotions flashed in her eyes, ultimately culminating in a barely audible sigh.

In the next instant, Tianquan turned into golden dust, falling with a shower of golden rain.

The entire Immortal Spirit Island was shrouded in a torrential downpour of golden iron. All the disciples felt as if they were on a deserted island, with nothing but dazzling gold in sight. They could not distinguish the people and things around them, and only boundless sorrow spread in their hearts.

In the dead silence, only the crisp sound of golden rain and iron sand falling to the ground could be heard, like Tianquan's last sigh, each sound echoing heavily in the ears of all the Lingxiao Palace disciples.

In this heavy silence, a mournful cry, unlike any human voice, suddenly resounded throughout the entire Fairy Spirit Island:

"Tianquan! Tianquan—!"

The voice was filled with despair and resentment, as if it were trying to vent all the grief in its heart.

All the disciples recognized it as the voice of Master Yuheng.

At this moment, his hair was disheveled, his face was contorted, and his eyes were bloodshot. He stared intently at the golden rain falling from the sky, and the pent-up frustration in his heart did not dissipate in the slightest with those two mournful cries.

Overnight, Yuheng seemed to have aged a hundred years. His once vigorous eyes were now filled with endless sorrow and vicissitudes.

He raised his hand with trembling hands, trying to grasp the golden sand that Tianquan had transformed into, but the golden sand only flowed down from his fingertips, leaving not a trace.

"Senior sister... may you rest in peace..."

……

Tianlan Kingdom, Taibai City.

The strange phenomenon in the eastern sky lasted for four days and four nights.

The dazzling golden light was clearly visible even in broad daylight, enveloping the entire city in a strange golden glow.

Ordinary people only need to tilt their heads slightly to see a sky that is completely different from the past, and their hearts are filled with astonishment and speculation.

"Strange celestial phenomena must be divine punishment for humanity!"

In no time, such rumors spread like wildfire, rapidly reaching every corner of Taibai City.

The once bustling and crowded Zuixianju restaurant is now deserted and quiet.

Most of the waiters took leave and left, saying they wanted to spend these "last days" with their families, as if the end of the world was approaching.

The manager was left alone in the restaurant, where he had to keep accounts and also take care of the waiters. In his spare time, he would sigh behind the counter and occasionally look up at the golden sky.

Fortunately, there weren't many customers who were still in the mood to get drunk at this time. In the entire Zuixianju, there was only one regular customer who came rain or shine on the second floor.

The man, dressed as a storyteller, sat alone by the street, leaning against the railing, pouring himself a drink. His gaze drifted leisurely eastward, his expression calm, as if waiting for something.

As the golden rain fell like a dream, he sighed, raised his wine cup, touched it to the east, and then drank it all in one gulp.

As the golden rain of the fourth day finally subsided, the storyteller put down his wine cup. An ancient thread-bound book appeared in his right hand, and at the same time, the folding fan in his left hand transformed into a wolf-hair brush.

He picked up his pen, and without dipping it in ink, began to trace neat lines of characters on the yellowed pages:

"In April, Tianquan of Lingxiao Palace attempted to ascend to the Mahayana realm, but failed and disintegrated, returning his cultivation to the world. At that time, golden rain fell like waterfalls, and iron sand fell like sand. Wherever the golden and iron rain passed, all six senses were obscured, and day and night could not be distinguished. When the golden rain stopped, looking around, all that could be seen was piles of golden powder and iron sand, more than three zhang high. The immortal island had been transformed into a golden island."