Extreme Spirit Chaos Technique

Mu Chen rubbed his forehead and blinked at the Profound Old Ghost. "Huh? It won’t descend on Xiao Ying’er? Then where will it go?"

The Profound Old Ghost gave a wry smile. "You’re usually so sharp. How are you so muddled today? You were the one who reforged your own Dantian back then, so naturally, the Nine Venerable Thunder Tribulation targeted you. Now, you’re going to use the Extreme Spirit Chaos Technique to reforge Xiao Ying’er’s Dantian, and you’re still the one controlling the process. So, of course, the Nine Venerable Thunder Tribulation will descend upon you again. The problem is, the moment you break through to the Venerable Realm, two Nine Venerable Thunder Tribulations will strike you simultaneously. Your odds of successfully Crossing the Tribulation... are close to zero. Therefore, this is no longer a question of whether you *can* save Xiao Ying’er, but whether you’re *willing* to. Saving her means you’ll have a ninety-nine percent chance of dying the moment you reach the Venerable Realm, unless you plan on staying in the Emperor Realm forever. Now, the decision is yours."

The Profound Old Ghost’s eyes slowly closed. He knew Mu Chen would make the right choice; it would just take him a moment to process it.

"Heh..." The moment the Profound Old Ghost finished speaking, Mu Chen laughed. His violet-blue eyes gazed gently at the old man, and he offered a simple statement.

"I am that child’s father."

Hearing this, the Profound Old Ghost, his eyes still closed, smiled faintly. ’If he had answered any other way, he wouldn’t be my disciple.’

"But the Nine Venerable Thunder Tribulation..."

"Isn’t there still that one percent chance of success?" Mu Chen smiled faintly. "A Thunder Tribulation is a life-or-death ordeal to begin with. Is there really that big of a difference between a one percent chance and a slim chance of survival?"

"Oh?"

The Profound Old Ghost was slightly surprised by Mu Chen’s words, then chuckled. "You’re right. The difference between a one percent chance and a slim chance of survival isn’t that great. You either succeed or you die. But don’t forget, you still have a powerful and handsome Master. I won’t let you die so easily."

As he spoke, the Profound Old Ghost roguishly flicked his long, ice-blue hair and shot Mu Chen a dazzling expression, making Mu Chen break out in a cold sweat.

"However, your main opponents this time aren’t the old geezers from the Ding Palace, nor is it the matter concerning Wan Xian’Er and Xiao Ying’er. It’s the crowd of guys who are flocking here for the title of the Palace Master’s son-in-law. You have to understand, the men who dare to vie for this position don’t just have the looks; more importantly, they have the strength. They wouldn’t come here just to be humiliated if they didn’t have a few tricks up their sleeves. Are you confident you can handle them?"

Hearing the Profound Old Ghost’s teasing tone, a cold glint flashed in Mu Chen’s violet-blue eyes. He said indifferently, "Hmph, in fact, they’re already humiliating themselves, aren’t they?"

’Wan Xian’Er is my woman. Do they really think things will end well for them if they dare to covet her?’

"Haha, now that’s my, the Profound Old Ghost’s, disciple! Very well. This time, I permit you to use all of your powers except for Xiaobai. Make your Master proud! Remember, your status is second to none! Because you are my disciple!"

After saying this indifferently, the Profound Old Ghost’s figure vanished into thin air. Mu Chen was left alone in the room, a faint smile on his lips as he stroked a small carving of Xiao Ying’er. It was undeniable; he was eagerly anticipating their meeting tomorrow.

The night passed uneventfully. The next day, the weather was wonderful, but it was destined to be anything but a peaceful day. Today was the day the Ding Palace Master’s daughter would choose a husband. Because of this, the entirety of Medicine City was enveloped in a thick, festive atmosphere.

Walking down the street and seeing the joyful smiles on the faces of all the citizens, Mu Chen’s expression was somewhat complex. But on second thought, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

’No matter how you look at it, this festive mood feels like a prelude to my reunion with Wan Xian’Er.’

Narrowing his eyes, Mu Chen’s figure vanished from the street with a WHOOSH. When he reappeared, he was already standing on the path up Zhongling Mountain that led to the Ding Palace. He stood as ramrod straight as ever, his hands at his sides, his ice-blue hair fluttering in the wind. He tilted his head back and looked up. In the sky, there was nothing but the hazy white clouds and the invisible mountain peak.

This time, Mu Chen’s ice-blue hair was not a Disguise, but his true hair color, fully restored. The one responsible was, naturally, the Profound Old Ghost. In his words:

"The color of ice is the color of nobility. How dare some lowly mix of purple and red presume to surpass it?"

It was still early, so Mu Chen, in the mood for a leisurely stroll, ambled slowly onto the Zhongling Mountain path. ’Today’s protagonist is destined to be me!’

’Xian’Er, I’m here.’

...

Inside the Ding Palace, the atmosphere was a boiling, clamorous din.

"Hurry up! Over there, over there! Right, put a table here too. You, standing over there with nothing to do, come sweep this area. And you, go get some melons and fruits to put out."

"Hey, hey! Who told you to arrange the fruit platter in the shape of a Medicine Cauldron? Take it back and do it again."

"And you! Using a Medicine Cauldron as an incense burner? Put it away, quick! What a disgrace it would be if anyone saw that."

"..."

Outside the main hall, crowds of uniformly dressed Ding Palace Maids and Cauldron Master students were already gathered. Everyone was working urgently and efficiently on their respective tasks. They needed to finish all the preparations within half a day, which was undoubtedly a monumental task for the vast Ding Palace.

In contrast, the Immortal Shadow Hall was a picture of tranquility. Wan Xian’Er took a deep breath and sat down wearily in the chair before her vanity, her gaze lost as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

The Wan Xian’Er at this moment was dressed in magnificent red attire, adorned with gold, silver, and jade. Her long, glossy black hair was elegantly styled into a high chignon, from which a red veil as light as a cicada’s wing draped down her back. With willow-like brows, crimson lips, and a light touch of powder, an aura of an Immortal Spirit suffused her entire being. Her vibrant beauty was breathtaking; even sitting casually, she exuded a graceful charm.