Fellow Daoist! That scoundrel has written a new book again.

Chapter 603 Extra (7)

Zhu Wuyao took the place of ten thousand people in the south, transferring the connection between all living beings and the great formation to himself, and thus the Copper Furnace Formation of All Living Beings manifested in this place.

It was wiped out by a heavy snowfall.

The boiling blood mist gradually cooled and was completely consumed by the spirit pen.

With her two major supports completely gone and her path to survival cut off, Fu Shan swayed precariously as she gazed at the equally exhausted Zhu Wuyao.

She is not a fortune teller.

There is no promise of life to stabilize a broken soul.

The array that maintained the body's functions was like a faulty circuit board, its spiritual light flickering a few times before dimming considerably.

His emaciated body, drained of energy and blood, stood alone in the snow.

It seems that with just a gentle push, it would crumble and disintegrate instantly, like a collapsing building.

Just when Zhu Wuyao thought she was about to die, Fu Shan slowly moved his gaze upwards and looked at the spirit brush that was now ownerless and had merged with fragments of the Heavenly Dao of the three sects.

“BOOM—!”

As a thunderclap struck and lightning ripped across the sky, the ambition in her eyes was laid bare. Under the dark sky, on the vast snowfield, between black and white, countless spiritual lights suddenly burst forth from beneath Fu Shan's tattered clothes.

The array patterns were branded onto the white bones.

As she slowly spread her arms, a formation appeared out of thin air, centered on Fu Shan.

As if summoned, the spirit pen in the air plummeted rapidly, attempting to plunge into Fu Shan's arms and merge with her.

What if it is maliciously tainted?

Was she lucid before?

So what if the Giant Sect is defeated? So what if the Copper Furnace Formation of All Beings is extinguished? So what if her blood mist is swallowed up? As long as she refines the Spirit Brush just like she did a thousand years ago, she can still rebuild the great sect.

Unharmed by the sword strikes, Fu Shan had abandoned his body and merged with the entire formation.

Just before the magic pen was about to fall into Fu Shan's arms, at the critical moment, Zhu Wuyao scattered copper coins all over the sky.

Tens of thousands of copper coins covered the sky and the earth; they were the fortune-telling money and the connections formed along the way, which Zhu Wuyao had obtained through divination.

Among the scattered copper coins, one coin was tossed into the air by Zhu Wuyao, where it tumbled and rolled continuously.

A causal line extends from this copper coin.

Tens of thousands of copper coins, intertwined with cause and effect, formed a giant net that covered a corner of the Heavenly Way.

Coins fluttered down from the sky, colliding and separating, bringing people together and scattering them. Passersby met and parted ways, some with greedy eyes praying for wealth and a bright future, others bowing and praying for the departing to return home soon. Fate begins and ends.

Gratitude, curses, contempt, reverence... all these emotions echoed in my ears.

Countless copper coins tumbled and rustled in the air, their fortunes changing, their luck turning bad. Heroes met their end, while serpents rode the clouds and transformed into dragons. The masses revered the gods, while the masses smashed temples.

Good and evil intertwine, cause and effect become disordered, forming a giant web.

Anger, delusion, joy, anger, sorrow, fear, grief, and happiness.

The dust of the mortal world settles between heaven and earth, becoming a part of history.

A life is taken with a single stroke, and in the end, it's just a few words—

"During the Battle of Licheng, Zhu Wuyao went with Fu Shan, but their whereabouts are unknown."

The heavy snow buried a handful of rusty, withered bones.

Even the victor can be a loser.

Zhu Wuyao's figure was slightly unsteady, leaving messy forward footprints on the snow.

The still-warm earth baked the heavy snow, which rose and turned into water vapor, fading the inky black snow into the white expanse.

As she leaned on her broken body and abandoned her sword under the tree, her time was drawing near.

Having spent half his life wandering in another world, Zhu Wuyao had long since learned to stop thinking about where he came from, yet he still couldn't see where he was going. The injuries that had been suppressed when he took over the Copper Furnace Formation of All Living Beings began to surge up again at the right time.

Despite the pain, she groped and pulled off the grass stem.

The voice of the spirit pen continued to chatter in her ears, still unaware of parting or sorrow. The Great Dao is ruthless; her departure was nothing more than a falling leaf in the grand scheme of things.

For her, however, it was the annihilation of the entire world.

I'm unwilling to accept this; I don't want to die.

Her spiritual power was dissipating, and a sense of death was spreading through her body. The wind had swept across thousands of mountains and rivers, and now... it was brushing against her hair.

A voice came from beside me—"Zhu Wuyao, the leaves have fallen."

Her consciousness began to dissociate, as if she had experienced it in a secret realm before, and Zhu Wuyao returned to chaos.

That was an endless journey.

That was eternal silence.

That is where all living beings return.

Unaware, without feeling, without love or hate, without gratitude or enmity.

But in the midst of the boundless silence, the sound of banner bells suddenly rang out—

"Ring ring—clang clang—"

The sound of banners and bells urges the soul to return.

A tattered banner stands at the edge of the world, a mark of Shen Anzhi's Dao, etched here many years ago.

They always wait here, guiding those who are leaving.

As the bells rang, in the enduring silence, Zhu Wuyao's scattered consciousness began to slowly reunite, wandering between the tangible and the intangible, as endless gray-white mist quietly spread out, enveloping her within it.

When stillness reaches its extreme, the noise continues unabated, and the mist surges and billows.

The incessant chiming of the banners and bells awakened the long slumber of the deceased.

The gray-white mist slowly outlined Zhu Wuyao's figure. Between her brows, a flash of inspiration awakened her consciousness from the haze, and thus, out of nothing, her existence became a fact.

In the world of cultivation, Ji Yuezhang's heart pounded.

"I wish to leave her a way to live, a way to be reborn after death, after the Great Dao has been perfected."

Many years ago, Shen Anzhi found her and said these words.

Then, he pointed a finger at Zhu Wuyao's brow.

In a small grotto once known as the Wishing Well Secret Realm, a crudely made coin suddenly began to spin, leisurely unfurling countless lines of cause and effect.

The maple forest in the secret realm is ablaze with color.

The wind rustles the leaves, and years later, it is as if one hears the sound of swords.

Within the grand avenue, Zhu Wuyao's figure gradually became clear; someone had once questioned heaven and earth on her behalf—

If she has done anything wrong, she should atone with her life;

So how will Heaven repay the debts that all living beings owe her?

The grayish-white mist surged endlessly, like a boundless sea of ​​suffering, and Zhu Wuyao's still indistinct figure floated silently.

A tattered spirit banner stands in the middle of the road, its flag moving without wind, guiding the way.

This is the guide to the Yellow Springs.

"Ring ring—clang clang—!"

The increasingly shrill sound of the banner bells rang in her ears, urging and calling out, stirring the gray-white mist and shoving her body.

The sound of banners and bells...calls the soul back!

Zhu Wuyao slowly opened her eyes.

She saw endless gray-white mist, and in the silence, the sound of banners and bells seemed to guide her, urging her to continue forward.

Following the sound of the banner bells, she walked forward like a wandering soul, just as she had when she first arrived in the world of cultivation, unaware of the path ahead.

Her consciousness gradually cleared as she walked through the mist. The sound of the banners and bells in her ears became clearer. Perhaps ahead lay another world, perhaps she would never see her old friends again, or perhaps it was a road of no return.

Zhu Wuyao retrieved the item that had been promised to him, but his illusory body had been completely destroyed, and with his death, his destiny was extinguished.

The Great Way has reached its perfect state.

Only the true form remains.

Cause and effect are both empty.

Those who have no regrets, move forward.

Zhu Wuyao's soul felt incredibly light. She turned around, gazed at the long river of time, and then, without looking back, strode forward—

Always move forward before collapse.