The Return of Stars to the Jianghu

Chapter 220 The Rules of Fengyu Mountain Solidify, Negotiations Begin

At the summit of Fengyu Mountain, the invisible storm is not a violent howl, but a distortion of rules contained within the deathly silence, powerful enough to freeze the soul.

The demonic runes on Li Wujiu's heavy armor erupted with a deathly wail, their dark red light flickering uncertainly, like a candle burning in the wind.

Yin Jiuzhu's wide cloak billowed without wind, and the pale figure beneath the hood trembled violently. He instinctively wanted to back away, but found it incredibly difficult to even move a finger, as if he were trapped in solidified amber.

The rock where Yue Wuhen sat silently crumbled into dust. His figure swayed slightly, and the starlight and silver threads on his moon-white robe lost their luster, making it appear like ordinary fabric. Liu Xuanfeng's gray robe fluttered in the wind, and spiderweb-like cracks instantly spread beneath his feet. He forced himself to steady himself, and for the first time, cracks appeared on his usually calm face—a tremor of his Dao heart being shaken.

Huang Yuyan, Luo Man, Luo Lan, Luo Yifei, and Qi Yuan were all utterly shocked. Only now did they truly understand the weight of the saying from the Xuan Tian Continent: "Innate Holy Body, capable of slaying enemies across realms."

Ye Fan (Zhou Jin) stood calmly at the center of the storm, like a pillar of strength. His indifferent gaze swept over the leaders from all sides, taking in their undisguised shock, confusion, and fear, as if he were looking down on chess pieces trapped in a desperate situation.

The vast and boundless aura suddenly intensified, no longer a pervasive ocean, but transformed into an invisible will capable of crushing stars!

Every inch of space atop Wind Whisper Mountain groaned under the weight of the burden. Rocks floated silently, then instantly turned into finer dust. Grass and trees grew wildly at a visible rate, only to wither and turn to ash in the next second, in an endless cycle. The chaotic and violent spiritual energy field was forcibly smoothed out, as if an invisible giant hand had wiped away all the messy lines, leaving only cold, orderly, and unquestionable rules to reweave this space.

The air froze, and sound was utterly silenced. Li Wujiu's molten lava aura, Yin Jiuzhu's deathly chill, Yue Wuhen's starlight and moonlight, Liu Xuanfeng's heavy fluctuations… all the outward-released power, regardless of its attribute, was like thin snow exposed to the scorching sun, mercilessly disintegrated and devoured by an invisible will. The spiritual energy within their bodies stagnated as if trapped in a quagmire, their Dao foundations trembled incessantly, as if they would be assimilated and erased at any moment by this rule that transcends all living beings.

Ye Fan slightly raised his head, gazing at the higher, more distant sky, or perhaps at the deeper, more mysterious past. His voice, in this absolute silence, was like a cold, hard law, clearly piercing the depths of everyone's soul:

"The death knell has tolled; the net... should be closed."

As the words fell, a deep sigh that seemed to echo across eternity seemed to resound from the depths of Wind Whisper Mountain.

This sigh didn't travel through the air; it resonated directly within everyone's soul. With this sigh, suspended dust, withered vegetation, chaotic light and shadow… all the distorted rules instantly froze!

Immediately afterwards, an irresistible, pure force of "stripping" descended upon us.

The twenty-one people who came to Fengyu Mountain had all their spiritual power drained and all of them fell to the initial stage of Body Refinement.

The feeling of being stripped away is not excruciating pain, but rather an extreme emptiness where the very foundation of existence is instantly hollowed out. It's as if the spine supporting the heavens and the earth has been silently pulled away, leaving only a crumbling empty shell.

Li Wujiu's massive body, no longer supported by the Lava Body, collapsed suddenly like a punctured husk. The heavy armor was no longer a symbol of strength, but a heavy shackle, pressing down on his knees, which slammed onto the scorched, glassy ground with a piercing sound of bones cracking.

Yin Jiuzhu's large cloak suddenly drooped, like a tattered rag without a skeleton. He staggered, his hood slipped down, revealing a face as pale as paper, and his eyes, which had once held a deathly chill, were now filled with only empty fear.

Unable to maintain his seated posture any longer, Yue Wuhen fell to the ground as the rocks crumbled into dust, his moon-white robes stained with ash, looking utterly disheveled. He tried to steady himself, but found that he had lost all coordination, his limbs feeling as if they no longer belonged to him.

Spiderweb-like cracks spread from Liu Xuanfeng's feet to his sides. Though he didn't kneel, his body trembled violently like a withered bamboo in the wind, his gray robe covered in dust. His usually calm and composed face shattered completely, leaving only the deathly pallor and shock of his crushed Dao heart. He frantically sensed the mountain, communicating with the earth's veins, trying to understand this power that rewrote the rules... only a deathly silence answered him. Behind him, the four Hidden God Sect cultivators were already limp as mud, their faces ashen, one of them unconscious.

The mountaintop was deathly silent, broken only by the heavy, suppressed breathing that echoed through the stillness. Twenty-one Body Refinement Realm cultivators struggled to adapt to their sudden arrival in mortal bodies, and the immense shock and fear that threatened to crush their spirits. Suspended dust settled, withered vegetation turning to ash. The chaotic spiritual energy field was smoothed over, leaving only cold, deathly, and unquestionable rules, like tombstones proclaiming the awakening of the ruler.

Ye Fan spoke slowly, his voice crystal clear in the absolute silence, carrying an indifferent detachment as if looking down upon the dust:

“Now,” he paused slightly, his gaze sweeping over Li Wujiu, Yin Jiuzhu, Yue Wuhen, Liu Xuanfeng, and all the collapsed cultivators, “can we talk now?”

Yin Jiuzhu glanced at the cultivators beside him, a chill running down his spine. According to the intelligence they had gathered, Fengyu Mountain was just a fallen sect that had long been lost to history and should have perished completely with the fall of its last disciple. However, they hadn't expected to harbor such a powerful figure. The whole thing was strange.

"Have you all heard of the Netherworld Ghost Realm?" Yin Jiuzhu decided to stop thinking and directly stated his purpose.

"Are you saying that the North Sea Abyss leads to the underworld?" Ye Fan countered.

Yin Jiuzhu's pale face, contorted with pain, suddenly stiffened. Ye Fan's (Zhou Jin's) casual question, like an invisible icicle, precisely pierced his last attempt to maintain composure. His hood had already slipped down, and his empty pupils suddenly contracted as he stared incredulously at the calm, indifferent figure.

"You...you know?" His voice was dry and hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing, each word carrying a tremor from the depths of his soul.

"No rush, I'll have two people chat together." Ye Fan walked to Luo Yifei's side, patted his shoulder lightly, and gestured for him to sit down at the stone table.

He then walked over to Huang Yuyan and pointed to the wind wheel at her waist. Huang Yuyan's face was no longer ashen, and she felt much more at ease. She handed the wind wheel to Ye Fan.

Ye Fan took the windmill and gently shook it.

"What's wrong? Why are you waking me up so early?" The spirit in the windmill floated out leisurely; it was Sun Li.

The next second, Sun Li woke up and saw twenty-one unfamiliar figures. "Lend me your body for a moment." After saying that, her spirit body floated towards Huang Yuyan and possessed her after the other nodded.

"Don't be nervous. You slept well, and it's all over. Now you can have a good chat with them. It might involve topics you're familiar with, which is why I asked you to come along," Ye Fan said with a smile.

Li Wujiu was removing his heavy armor when he hesitated for a moment before placing it on the ground. Ye Fan hadn't killed him outright, presumably because he still needed their help. He was no longer as terrified as before.

Yin Jiuzhu's Adam's apple bobbed laboriously, and his chapped lips moved, but he could not utter a sound.

Yue Wuhen struggled to sit up from the dust, his moon-white robe stained with filth. He tried to summon a wisp of spiritual energy, but only the empty echo within his body and the excruciating pain and weakness of his foundation being stripped away from his core responded. His gaze towards Ye Fan was incredibly complex, filled with shock, humiliation, and a chilling sense of being manipulated. The decline of Fengyu Mountain was, after all, a carefully woven fog! Ye Fan's power had led him to a fatal misjudgment of Fengyu Mountain.

The dust on Liu Xuanfeng's gray robe seemed to have grown heavier, and fine sand and gravel silently slid down the spiderweb-like cracks beneath his feet. He forcibly suppressed the tremor in his soul caused by the upheaval of his Dao heart, his usually calm face shattering completely, leaving only a deathly pale expression. Communicating with the earth's veins? Sensing the mountain's structure? Only deathly silence answered him, as if his proud Hidden God Sect secret techniques were nothing but child's babbling before that being. Behind him, the four Hidden God Sect cultivators lay limp on the ground, their spines ripped out, their faces ashen. One of them was unconscious, bleeding from his mouth and nose, his body twitching unconsciously from time to time.

Huang Yuyan (possessed by Sun Li) trembled slightly, her eyes suddenly becoming sharp and alert, all traces of panic vanishing. She moved her wrists, sensing her physical condition, her gaze sweeping over the collapsed crowd before finally settling on Ye Fan. A playful smile curved her lips: "Oh, quite a commotion. You've caused a huge stir while you were sleeping?" Her voice remained clear and crisp, but carried a hint of languor and insight that didn't belong to Huang Yuyan.

Ye Fan merely smiled faintly at "Huang Yuyan" (Sun Li)'s teasing and did not respond. His gaze returned to the four leaders who seemed to have fallen from the clouds to the dust, and their ashen-faced subordinates behind them.

On the mountaintop, the wind whispers, and stillness reigns, yet within this suffocating silence, an invisible pressure permeates the air as if it were a tangible reality. The suspended dust settles, the vegetation grime vanishes, and only the cold, unquestionable rules remain, like an invisible cage, imprisoning everyone. Twenty-one heavy, suppressed breaths are the only echoes in this deathly silence.

Ye Fan spoke slowly, his voice not loud, yet it pierced the deathly silence, striking a chord in everyone's nerves, carrying an indifferent air of control over life and death:

"Let's begin." He paused slightly, his gaze sweeping over Li Wujiu, Yin Jiuzhu, Yue Wuhen, Liu Xuanfeng, and all the collapsed cultivators with an almost tangible intensity.

Ye Fan's words were like a pebble thrown into stagnant water, creating silent ripples.

Yin Jiuzhu's deathly pale face was contorted by the immense shock he felt inside. His knuckles clenched so tightly they turned white as he hissed, "...What no one dares to touch is the bottom of that abyss...where the aura of the 'Gate' lurks!" He gasped for breath, his pale cheeks twitching slightly with pain and fear. "...Truly enough to make all forces hesitate..."

"A door?" Huang Yuyan (Sun Li), who had been lazily observing, raised an eyebrow. The playfulness in her eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a rare sharpness and seriousness. She subconsciously straightened her back, her voice still carrying Huang Yuyan's clear and crisp tone, but lowered, revealing an undeniable inquiry, "What kind of door?"

Yin Jiuzhu's Adam's apple bobbed laboredly, and a flicker of indescribable tremor flashed deep within his empty pupils: "Indescribable... all I know is that its aura is ancient, as if it were born with heaven and earth, and it carries an absolute, inviolable power of 'rules.' It is not a physical entity, but more like a... concept, an 'existence' imprinted on the bottom of the abyss. Approaching it, the rules distort, and spacetime becomes disordered..." His facial muscles contorted, revealing a bitter smile more painful than crying, as he recounted the tragic fate of the three Nascent Soul stage experts.

“It could be a special teleportation altar. The upheaval on the Floating Life Continent has caused instability.” Sun Li (Huang Yuyan) murmured to herself, her fingers unconsciously rubbing her cuffs as if recalling some distant information, her eyes becoming distant and profound.

Ye Fan nodded and steered the conversation to the core issue: "So, you believe... that this Netherworld Ghost Realm is related to my Fengyu Mountain?" His gaze was calm, yet it carried a penetrating power as he slowly swept over each pale face.

“A month ago,” Li Wujiu’s deep voice broke the brief silence, the veins on his neck bulging slightly, clearly indicating that speaking had taken a toll on his mortal body, “someone from your group must have gone to the North Sea and encountered the giant serpent. At the time, all of us had a faint sense of it, but we didn’t rush to investigate.” He paused, seemingly recalling that vague perception, “Since then, the mist over the North Sea began to slowly dissipate, until three days ago, it completely disappeared. We sent people to investigate and found that the taboo against flying had vanished. The North Sea has become an ordinary strait.” This change was too abrupt and bizarre, its implications extremely clear.

“Through deduction,” Yue Wuhen continued, his voice carrying a barely concealed weakness and a hint of barely perceptible urgency, as if eager to prove his worth, “we have pinpointed the source of all these changes—Fengyu Mountain.” He looked at Ye Fan with a complex expression, “After the great upheaval, the energy of heaven and earth was in disarray. The fact that we can clearly trace the source already indicates that this place is extraordinary.”

Liu Xuanfeng took a deep breath, suppressing the metallic taste in his throat, and continued, "A year ago, we came to Fengyu Mountain, and at that time there was no one here. Now, with the sudden changes in the North Sea, we wanted to come in and find out what was going on. When we arrived, we found that the spiritual energy of Fengyu Mountain was frantically gathering towards the top of the mountain." He turned his gaze to the dilapidated stone hall on the top of the mountain, "The scale and nature of the gathering of spiritual energy is definitely not a natural phenomenon."

"That was us using a secret technique to confirm the fate of Elder Qingsong and his group." Luo Yifei, who had been silently observing, finally spoke, his voice tinged with weariness yet also with composure. "They went to the North Sea a month ago." He looked at Ye Fan, his eyes filled with trust and a hint of lingering fear. The disappearance of Elder Qingsong and his group had triggered such a terrifying chain reaction.

“Elder Qingsong is still alive. We plan to rescue them.” After saying this, Luo Yifei observed the reactions of the four people opposite him.

Li Wujiu's heavy breathing suddenly stopped. His copper bell-like eyes were fixed on Luo Yifei, his gaze like that of a dying beast sensing a glimmer of life, a mixture of incredulous greed and deep-seated suspicion. Although his massive body had been disarmed, it still pressed down like a mountain. At this moment, a low, muffled sound rolled in his throat, as if he wanted to chew up and swallow the word "rescue"—if Elder Qingsong was really in the Netherworld Ghost Realm, wouldn't that prove that something truly existed at the bottom of the abyss? How could an elder from a fallen sect survive in such a desperate place? This thought gnawed at his last remaining rationality like a venomous snake.

Yin Jiuzhu's empty eyes suddenly focused, his paper-white face contorting into horrifying lines as his muscles tensed abruptly. The word "alive" exploded like thunder in his lifeless mind, shaking his very soul. He instinctively tried to retreat, but stumbled due to the weight of his mortal body and the constraints of invisible rules, the hem of his wide cloak kicking up a cloud of dust. The North Sea, the giant serpent, the dissipating mist… all the clues instantly connected, pointing to a possibility that chilled him to the bone—the "decline" of Fengyu Mountain was actually a tomb-keeper's slumber! Elder Qingsong's survival was tantamount to irrefutable proof of the existence of the "gate" at the bottom of the abyss, and he had dared to covet this forbidden place.

Yue Wuhen struggled to straighten his back, the filth on his moon-white robe making him look even more disheveled. Upon hearing the word "rescue," his ashes-covered fingers unconsciously dug into the scorched, glassy earth, his knuckles turning white from the effort. The humiliation of being toyed with in his eyes was instantly replaced by a cold, calculating glint. The schemes of Fengyu Mountain were so deep; even an elder could survive in the Netherworld Ghost Realm—it was no accident! Rescue? Was this a trap, or…recruitment? His gaze towards Ye Fan was complex and turbulent. Amidst his shock, a flicker of opportunism quietly ignited—if he could curry favor with such a being, today's fall might become a stepping stone to heaven.

Dust rustled off Liu Xuanfeng's grey robe, his once placid face shattered, leaving only a numb, deathly pallor. Luo Yifei's words struck his already crumbling Dao heart like a hammer blow. His attempts to communicate with the earth's veins had failed, his perception of the mountain's emptiness was gone, and his prized secret techniques had become a joke… Now, even the life and death of a "missing" elder had become a pawn in Fengyu Mountain's hands? Behind him, among the limp, powerless Hidden God Sect cultivators, another succumbed to the relentless onslaught, a sweet taste rising in his throat as he vomited a small mouthful of dark red blood. His body trembled violently, his eyes glazed over like a dying candle. Liu Xuanfeng's lips moved, wanting to question, wanting to deduce, but all he received in return was the empty echo within his body and the bone-chilling weakness and despair crushed by the rules.

On the deathly silent mountaintop, only the twenty-one gasps of breath became even more oppressive and chaotic in the aftershocks of Luo Yifei's words.

"Why don't you go and take a look for me first?" Ye Fan said.

"Tell us first which mountains and rivers are currently occupied by the major sects of the Floating Life Continent," Sun Li waved to Ye Fan.