On that final night, Chen Yi had a dream.

The images in the dream were hazy and indistinct, just like many dreams that fleetingly pass by and fade upon waking. Chen Yi's dream was no exception.

He could only remember a gravestone standing upright on the ground, square and solid. Fireflies darted and hovered around it, and heartbreak grass grew abundantly at its base. The soil was muddy and damp—when he looked down, he realized it was wet with his own tears.

On the gravestone, rows of epitaphs were carved, but the only inscription he could clearly see read: [Chen Yi's Wife Yin Weiyin's Grave].

Chen Yi's heart sank, as if the entire world had shattered. All words were swallowed by the murmuring wind.

In the end, he could only shakily produce a hairpin, trembling as he buried it under the gravestone, into the earth.

He hadn't had time to treat her well, and now they were separated by life and death, parted forever.

When he suddenly woke up from his bed in shock, only then did he realize it was merely a dream.

But the dream felt too real. He panted for a long time, the lingering fear still gripping his heart.

It was so real that it seemed as though it could happen in the very next moment.

Chen Yi clenched his fists.

He slowly left the courtyard and turned his head, where he saw Yin Tingxue and Lin Wanxiao standing in silent watch. Chen Yi simply gave a faint smile and waved gently to both women.

Then, carrying his sword and knife, he departed from the temporary lodging of the Cui Estate.

Walking for an unknown distance, a figure emerged from the shadow of the trees.

A nun with long, flowing hair pressed her palms together, giving Chen Yi a slight nod before stepping forward to accompany him.

"How goes it?" Dong Guifei recited a Buddhist chant and asked.

Their acquaintance had lasted merely ten days, and Dong Guifei wasn't sure how to interact with him. She ultimately forced out the question somewhat stiffly.

Chen Yi raised his head to gaze toward the imperial palace, speaking:

"Not bad. I've learned some Taoist skills and have refined my martial arts further. All is well."

During these ten days, Chen Yi never broke off his connection with Zhou Yitang.

Zhou Yitang imparted numerous Taoist techniques to him, such as the Five Thunders Righteous Method, Samadhi True Fire, and other spells, as well as the unique arts of Yin Sword Mountain. She meticulously explained every detail—an unusual act for someone as taciturn as her.

Meanwhile, Chen Yi put all his effort into mastering these Taoist techniques.

Using Heavenly Vision to channel True Qi, dozens of Taoist skills surged into his mind like a flowing stream, quickly becoming tools at his disposal.

Since advancing to the Fourth Rank, Chen Yi had rarely utilized Heavenly Vision in this manner. The reason was simple: beyond the Fourth Rank of martial arts, learning more cultivation techniques was futile unless one could refine their spirit and ascend to the Third Rank. Thus, this ability had been temporarily abandoned.

However, the circumstances now were extraordinary. Chen Yi once again integrated the True Qi accumulated from the Absorbing Star Technique and Resentment Yin-Yang Technique into the Taoist methods, mastering dozens of skills within just ten days.

Still, for cultivators, mastering more techniques did not equate to increased destructive power. Take Yin Weiyin, the Taichua Goddess, for example. Despite her extensive repertoire of Taoist skills, the limitations of the Core Formation Realm prevented her from fully utilizing them.

Learning Taoist techniques might be straightforward, but their application requires reaching the requisite realm. Naturally, the skills Chen Yi had mastered were those that could be utilized within the Golden Core Realm.

Over the past few days, Dong Guifei had observed all of this. As she watched Chen Yi gaze toward the imperial city, she asked again:

"What's the situation in the Ghost City?"

"Not very good. My master has pinpointed King Chujiang's location, where he's being imprisoned. Meanwhile, the late emperor has stolen the position of King Yan, usurping King Chujiang's role."

Chen Yi spoke slowly, recounting the information he'd learned from Zhou Yitang:

"My master also met Yu Zhen Yuanjun. The reason Yu Zhen Yuanjun came to the underworld was because her divinations predicted her disciple would face calamity. Thus, she descended upon Yindu. To avoid alerting their enemies, she feigned allegiance to the late emperor. Moreover... she planted a contingency on the chaos beasts."

Over the past ten days, Dong Guifei had heard about these matters to some extent, so she wasn't overly surprised.

She herself hadn't been idle during this time—she had investigated the situation within the palace thoroughly and spoke:

"That paper effigy of Qi Yangjian—if it dies, it will create a breach in the Secret Realm."

"Is this certain?"

"Yes. Your previously mentioned 'truth-for-lie' array gave me a hint. Every formation has its focal point, and the late emperor's most trusted figure in life was Qi Yangjian, the eunuch who holds the imperial brush. Hence, I surmise this effigy of Qi Yangjian is the array's focal point."

Dong Guifei paused, stroking the severed ends of her long hair,

"Later, I searched for the dragon vein within the Capital City's secret realm, further confirming that Qi Yangjian must indeed be the array's focal point."

Shortly after her words fell, the pair unconsciously arrived outside Donghua Gate. The palace city was eerily silent, like the calm before the storm.

Chen Yi murmured to himself, "I must return."

"Of course you must return," Dong Guifei turned her face to ask again, "but… how confident are you?"

Chen Yi smiled faintly and replied, "Even if the real Qi Yangjian himself appears, I'll kill him just the same."

"No need to exaggerate." Dong Guifei shook her head.

Before her words fully landed, Chen Yi had already stepped past her and slowly approached the palace gates, seeming indifferent to the possibility of encountering any paper effigies or, for that matter, his future adversaries.

Dong Guifei stared at him, catching one detail at the edge of her vision: he wasn't drawing his knife—instead, he silently unsheathed the sword on his back.

The sword was weighty.

It was a sword meant for the living…

.........

In the blink of an eye, his figure soared high, leaping atop the palace wall. Shortly after, Dong Guifei felt a fierce gust of wind brushing behind her. She turned to see him casting a spell with one hand, wielding his sword with the other, stepping on thin air, and unbelievably riding the wind!

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