Immortality Starts With Investment

Yi Qingwu’s reaction made Ye Chen smile. Gazing at her breathtaking face, he felt a surge of affection. Her mind might be a bit off, but she was genuinely good—always rushing to share treasures, dedicated to her ”marking” with rapidly improving skills, and now sincerely trying to protect him in this crisis.

He couldn’t resist reaching out, gently stroking her head, feeling her silky hair. Though he’d pressed her head during the marking, this tender caress was a first.

Yi Qingwu froze, instinctively wanting to pull away—she disliked head touches outside of ”business.”

But Ye Chen’s warm, strong hand and his deeply loving gaze stirred memories of her father’s doting looks from childhood. Her heart softened, and she closed her eyes, savoring the warmth.

Ye Chen spoke softly, ”Once the formation breaks, don’t plead for me or try to save me. I don’t want Heavenly Intention Holy Son to misunderstand and affect you.”

Her eyes opened, complex emotions swirling. Ying Tiansheng’s sudden return, with soaring strength to crush Hua Yunfei and a Mahayana protector, left Ye Chen doomed. Yet he refused her help, fearing it would harm her. He was willing to die for her sake. His heavy devotion weighed on her, stealing her breath.

She regretted it. If Ye Chen were just a lustful scoundrel as rumored, his death wouldn’t faze her. But his selfless love—giving everything, even his life, like her father—changed everything. With her father gone, losing Ye Chen would break her heart. She shouldn’t have dragged him into this. Regret flooded her, but it was too late.

…

Inside the formation, Ye Chen waited calmly. The Mahayana strike, silent yet earth-shattering, seemed unstoppable, collapsing the void as it approached. But just then, a figure appeared before the formation, raising a hand to conjure boundless dao and laws, barely blocking the blow.

The crowd gasped. Someone blocked a Mahayana strike? Even if strained, it was shocking. Sharp-eyed onlookers recognized Elder Mo, Ye Chen’s protector.

Ying Tiansheng frowned. Mo’s presence wasn’t surprising, but daring to face a Mahayana attack was. Ye Chen must be skilled at winning loyalty for Mo to risk death.

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The white-haired Fang Qing, unfazed, smirked. ”Mo Yixi, your Immortal Platform’s been shattered for years, yet you blocked my strike? How many more can you take?”

He knew Mo.

Mo, pale from the effort, looked puzzled. ”Who are you?”

Fang Qing’s face darkened. Back then, Mo Yixi was a prodigy, making waves in the Central Continent, outshining many Holy Sons and entangled with several Holy Maidens. Fang Qing wasn’t even on his radar. But now, he smirked. Times had changed. He was Mahayana, while Mo teetered on the edge of falling below Unity. They were worlds apart.

”You don’t need to know me. Just know you’re dead!” Fang Qing said coldly, thrilled at the prospect of killing someone he once looked up to.

Mo’s aged face turned resolute. ”Kill me?”

His aura surged, a terrifying pressure spreading across Great Shang Immortal City, making countless cultivators tremble. Even Fang Qing raised an eyebrow. Mo seemed to reclaim his peak, perhaps surpassing it, stirring danger in Fang Qing’s heart.

Fang Qing knew Mo’s past—Mo had survived the Mahayana thunder tribulation but was betrayed over a woman, shattering his Immortal Platform and falling to Unity. Now, back at his peak, his strength was terrifying.

Mo’s black hair whipped wildly, eyes blazing with killing intent. ”Who dares kill me?” He stood like the lord of heaven and earth, his aura boundless.

Ying Tiansheng’s face paled. He hadn’t expected Ye Chen’s protector to regain his peak. What now?

Fang Qing, startled, sneered. ”I heard you have an Ultimate Dao Sublimation technique, burning lifeforce to reclaim your peak briefly. That’s why your old enemies never hunted you down. But so what? How long can you last? I can wait—can you?”

He radiated dao aura, retreating a hundred miles to stand in the void, choosing to avoid battle. Simultaneously, he sealed Great Shang with immense Qi, blocking Mo from sending messages.

Mo’s face shifted, his trump card exposed. Fang Qing’s refusal to fight denied him a final clash, leaving a trace of helplessness in his eyes.

Fang Qing grinned wider, relishing the control over a once-dazzling prodigy. Watching Mo weaken slowly before a crushing strike would be despairing.

Fang Qing was thrilled—he could wait. But Ying Tiansheng couldn’t. His fiancée was still inside. What if Ye Chen, facing death, acted recklessly with her? The thought made his head throb, ready to explode. He urged Fang Qing, ”Senior, he’s just clinging to life with Ultimate Dao Sublimation. You can crush him easily—why wait?”

Fang Qing glanced coldly, ignoring him. This kid didn’t know Mo Yixi’s past ferocity—humiliating Holy Son-level figures. Even slightly weaker than his prime, Mo’s sublimation was formidable. Fighting a desperate, doomed foe was the cultivation world’s taboo. They’d drag you down with them. With over a millennium to live and a shot at immortality through his young lord, why risk dying with Mo?

Fang Qing dismissed Ying’s urging entirely.