Chapter 451: Chapter 228: The Secret of the Golden Radiance Treasure Box! A Century Passes in a Moment (Part 2)

"So this is the secret of the Golden Radiance Treasure Box—beyond life and death, there is but a single thought..." Zhang Fan suddenly came to an epiphany.

If only he had known earlier, he would have unlocked this Treasure Box long ago, to comprehend the mystery within this golden thought.

Rumble...

Golden rays overflowed and filled the entire room. Zhang Fan’s body, let the golden radiance shuttle through continuously—his flesh became lustrous and translucent, his organs, sinews, and even blood vessels, all lay bare to the eye.

Between his brows, a cluster of phantom shadows pulsed energetically—it was, under the golden glow’s baptism, generating its own brilliance, fusing with those golden streams of light, blending into one.

Rumble...

At this moment, Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit suddenly became vast beyond measure, breaking through the confines of flesh, ascending majestically to the heavens, mysteriously parting from the earth—boundless light, formless Daoist Skill.

Primordial Light shone everywhere; transcending in feathered flight to heaven.

Suddenly, even Zhang Beijiang, who had always guarded his side, was bathed in Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit radiance; a gleam flickered in those deep-set eyes, as if awakened to realization.

He looked at the continually transforming Zhang Fan, lips parted, and almost mechanically uttered four characters:

"Great Master Realm!"

...

Southern Yunnan Desperate Realm.

Ailao Mountain.

The campfire flickered, casting light among the ancient woods.

Before the mouth of an ancient cave, white bone lay in eerie piles, stacked like a small mountain. Faint firelight flickered within the cave—two lanterns revolved in the darkness like rolling pupils.

"Zhang Lingzong, only your South Zhang lineage remains, a handful of cats left, so why provoke such a great enemy? Why not simply find a place and wait for death?"

At that moment, a sinister laugh echoed from within the cave, touched with mockery.

"Old bastard, you’re pushing it."

At his side, Xiong Sanqi could not stand it any longer and thundered out, set to charge into the cave, but Zhang Lingzong stopped him.

"You fool. If he weren’t here, I’d have come out and eaten you alive, you arrogant whelp."

The malicious laughter drifted out from within the cave.

"Old wildcat, you still owe me a favor." Zhang Lingzong said coolly.

"I’m a demon, not a man. If I owe a favor owed as a person, why seek me?"

Within the cave, those two lanterns flared and leapt like eyeballs.

"So you refuse a toast only to take a forced drink." Zhang Lingzong’s expression grew cold, at last losing his patience.

"Sigh!"

At that, a sigh came from inside the cave, the tone instantly softening.

"If it were anything else, I’d certainly return you this favor. But you’d have me accompany you to seek out that big black dog from the Wuwei Sect..."

"Isn’t that madness?"

"Do you not know— that big black dog ranks first among demons, unrivaled across the Mountains and Seas... Back when Three Corpses Daoist was present, it was somewhat constrained. But now..."

"It’s lawless!"

A helpless sigh echoed from inside the cave, tinged with not-so-pleasant emotions, as if that name had stirred old memories from the dust.

"Half my tail is still in its belly."

"Give you respect, I’m inviting you; deny you respect, and I’ll..."

Zhang Lingzong snorted coldly and took a step forward—yet before he could finish, he suddenly halted and turned to look aside.

The boundless sky, a myriad stars sparkled.

Zhang Lingzong’s gaze flickered; his brows gradually drew together, solemnity flooding his features.

"Big Brother Zong, what’s wrong?" Xiong Sanqi sensed something amiss and hurried over to ask.

"Primordial Light floats to the heavens; even the sky cannot cover..."

"He’s going to achieve Divine Fusion!"

...

Jiangbei Province, Zhenwu Mountain.

The moon hung high overhead; the stars were dazzling bright.

The ancient Qingwei Palace had long since extinguished its lights. Only within the Pure Yang Hall did a single lamp burn on.

Rumble...

At that moment, the ancient temple doors slowly opened. An aged Daoist, clad in cartoon-print pajamas and slippers, ambled out from the hall as if a farmer was out on a stroll.

"Master, it’s so late—why are you up?"

Taoist Pojie, the night guardian, hurriedly rose and moved to greet him.

"I had a dream and simply could not sleep again."

"A dream?" Pojie was caught off guard, his expression turning strange.

Dreams are but tangled heart-thoughts, intense and illusory.

Chu Chaoran had realized the Pure Yang Wuji Realm—with not a thought arising. How could and why would such an entity dream?

"Stillness brings motion in mind these days. I always recall things of the past. When you get old, you like remembering what came before." Chu Chaoran saw through Taoist Pojie’s doubts and smiled faintly.

"Master’s past must’ve been extraordinary." Taoist Pojie couldn’t help but say.

To rise from a Little Taoist Child of Zhenwu Mountain, to become the present day’s number one in the Pure Yang Wuji Realm—just imagining this rise reveals it’s no ordinary life.

"The past... that was already a century ago." Chu Chaoran sighed gently.

He raised his hand, brushing aside Taoist Pojie’s assistance.

"Pojie, go get some rest. I’ll wander about by myself."

"Master, but it’s so late..." Taoist Pojie hesitated.

"I grew up on Zhenwu Mountain since childhood. I know every tree and blade of grass here better than you do. Go on." Chu Chaoran laughed.

"Yes, Master."

Pojie gave a salute, then slowly retreated.

Chu Chaoran watched Pojie’s silhouette recede into the distance. Seizing the cover of night, he walked toward the back mountain, bathed in moonlight.

Ancient trees thick in the forest, the cold pool rippling faintly.

In the moonlight, an old turtle slowly crawled out from the water. The silvery moonlight cascaded over its back like flowing mercury, shining brilliantly.

Throughout the realm, the demonic ghosts are uncounted. Among three-hundred-year-old Old Demons, besides those dwelling within the desperate realms of the Mountains and Seas, nowadays only the likes of Cang Yuan from Laojun Mountain, Bai He of White Crane Temple, and the old turtle on Zhenwu Mountain remain.

Roar...

Just then the old turtle let out a low roar, like a tiger’s call, like a dragon’s bellow, shaking the mountains and woods, startling a hundred birds to flight.

"So late and people still got to rest!"

Chu Chaoran raised a hand in a calming gesture, and sat with lazy elegance upon a green stone by the cold pool, gazing at the old turtle.

"It’s late—why aren’t you asleep? What brings you to visit me?" The old turtle shook its head with a jar-like voice.

"Getting on in years, sleep lessens. Just wanted to find someone—or something, not necessarily a person—to talk to." Chu Chaoran said calmly.

"Your mouth is just the same as when you were a child..."

The old turtle gazed deeply at Chu Chaoran and couldn’t help but sigh, "I remember when you first came to the back mountain cold pool, you were a five or six-year-old little thing..."

"Now, a hundred years have passed in a blink, and you’re the world’s foremost master, having comprehended the Pure Yang Wuji Realm..."

"Truly, fate toys with men."

"A hundred years... Has it really been a hundred years?" Chu Chaoran murmured softly.

A span of a hundred years, so many people and happenings are no longer present.

"I hear that big black dog has come down from the mountain—perhaps he’ll visit Zhenwu Mountain as well," Chu Chaoran suddenly said.

"King Yan?!"

The old turtle raised his head high, looked toward Chu Chaoran and said meaningfully, "With you here, would he dare come?"

"Old friends are gone—some will never meet again."

"Indeed. Old friends gone, a hundred years is a long time; yet, really, it’s only the blink of an eye." Chu Chaoran’s voice floated softly.

A hundred years is but a foot in dreamland; only wandering in dreams could one be drunk and at home again.

Many people, much that happened—can only be seen again in dreams.

"You’re acting strange today. In the Pure Yang Wuji Realm, one follows the Dao of nature—yet your mood tonight seems anything but natural."

The old turtle looked up at Chu Chaoran, a trace of meaning in his eyes.

"The Realm of Pure Yang—there’s really nothing that miraculous. Whatever I am, is nature itself." Chu Chaoran grinned.

"..."

"Could you depart this world?" the old turtle snorted sideways.

"If I die, you’ll have nobody to chat with, you know."

"Could you die?" After a moment’s silence, the old turtle asked, "If you die, will you take all those secrets to the grave?"

"What is it that you wish to ask?" Chu Chaoran laughed lightly.

"The Great Daoist Sect Tribulation!" The old turtle’s eyes shone, unable to restrain the question.

Eighty years ago, the Daoist Sect’s Great Tribulation—a public case; whether Daoist Sect, Wuwei, or Mountain and Sea Demons and Ghosts, none have yet escaped its shadow.

And back then, atop Dragon Tiger Mountain, only Chu Chaoran survived.

All these years, he kept his counsel, never once mentioning that tribulation.

"Actually..."

At that moment, Chu Chaoran finally spoke.

The old turtle’s eyes blazed; he lifted his head as if he dreaded missing even the slightest detail.

"Back then, atop Dragon Tiger Mountain, I was not the sole survivor..." Chu Chaoran said quietly.

"Not the only one?" The old turtle’s whole body shook.

"That year, atop Dragon Tiger Mountain, there were five!"

"Five?" the old turtle quavered.

"You’ve seen three among them." Chu Chaoran said faintly.

"You, Three Corpses Daoist... who else?"

The old turtle pressed on urgently.

"Not long ago, she was on the mountain..."

"You mean..." The old turtle’s eyes trembled.

"That little girl..."

"Jiang Lai!!"