Chapter 36

The Celestial Palace’s flying ship was scheduled to pick up three groups of people. Zhongshan was the first group, followed by two other locations before it would head full-speed towards the Western Sea.
Since not all the people were aboard yet, Lord Gu Xingxing hadn’t arranged any activities, so the first three days were free for personal arrangements. This was supposed to be a great opportunity for rest, but under Ling Qingxiao’s supervision, Luo Han had spent the past three days productively.
On the fourth day, the three clans of Zhongshan’s Azure Dragon, Changyi’s Zouxu, and Leyuan’s Suanni had all gathered, and training could officially begin. Although the Celestial Palace had urgently assembled this group, they would be facing the ancient ferocious beast, the Hun Yuan Beast, as well as the potential threat of demon and magic tribes. The risks were immense. While these individuals were elites within their respective clans, personal strength didn’t necessarily translate to team effectiveness.
Before going to the battlefield, concentrated and purposeful team training was necessary.
Starting from the fourth day, the flying ship entered the training phase, and the schedule became much more intense than the previous three days. There was a lecture in the morning, hosted by Lord Gu Xingxing, and in the afternoon, a training session led by Lord Feiyu Xing.
From now on, every day’s schedule would vary, mostly consisting of practical training, with lectures interspersed every few days. Lord Gu Xingxing, as a civilian official, was in charge of the flying ship, overseeing all matters big and small, while Lord Feiyu Xing, a military official, was more focused on the combat training.
Today was the first day of training, and Luo Han didn’t dare be late. She began preparing early, as usual. She checked everything in her storage ring to make sure she hadn’t missed anything before heading out with peace of mind.
This was a custom in the immortal realm, as cultivators were used to carrying all their belongings in their storage spaces, keeping things on their person, and rarely leaving personal items in their rooms. Although Luo Han had spent three days here, there were hardly any personal traces left in her room.
After all, with a storage space, it was more convenient to carry everything around.
As she stepped outside, she immediately saw a figure standing in the hallway. The morning light was faint, with a soft glow reflected from the clouds. Ling Qingxiao stood in the corridor, dressed in white, like the morning moon—radiant yet cold.Everyone passing by looked at him. Not just the Zhongshan disciples—others on the ship turned to stare as well.
Ling Qingxiao’s looks were simply too eye-catching.
The quarters near the back of the ship were smaller and more densely packed. Right now, many were heading out for the upcoming Dao lecture. The moment Ling Qingxiao appeared in the corridor, whispers broke out.
“Who’s that?” asked someone from the Changyi or Leyuan delegation.
“Ling Qingxiao. Dragon clan. First place from Zhongshan.”
The speaker couldn’t decide whether to be more shocked that he was dragon-blooded or that someone that good-looking had placed first. Then again, thinking of the dragon clan’s usual dominance, it all made sense.
“A dragon? Ah, no wonder.”
If a dragon clan member was present, then first place was practically reserved. In any realm-wide competition, the finals always ended up being an internal ranking match between dragons. A so-called "Celestial Realm First" title often carried less weight than just being top among dragons.
Despite all the awe and fear the dragon clan inspired, few actually liked them. They monopolized resources, expanded aggressively, encouraged internal rivalry, and worshipped strength above all. The rest of the realm both feared and resented them.
But no one could deny—they were terrifyingly powerful.
Once they heard this young man was dragon-blooded, the disciples quickly averted their gazes and hurried past. Some still whispered as they went.
“If he’s first place, what’s he doing here?”
“No idea. Maybe waiting for someone?”
Their voices faded as they walked off. Luo Han could hear at least three different groups gossiping about Ling Qingxiao and Zhongshan's drama. She hesitated, unsure how to approach him—until his gaze landed on her precisely.
“Are you ready?”
The moment he spoke, every head turned. Luo Han reflexively adjusted her veil and reminded herself: they don’t know who I am. It’s fine.
Steeling herself, she walked over with as much calm as she could muster. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
They arrived at the Dao lecture hall early, with time to spare and seats still open. Luo Han picked a quiet corner; Ling Qingxiao silently sat beside her.
A while later, Ling Zhongyu and Su Yinyue arrived. Zhongyu’s entrance caused quite the stir. Su Yinyue walked a half-step behind him, chin held high, like a proud and glittering swan.
Luo Han instinctively scanned the room for Yun Menghan. As expected, the drama between the female lead and the male lead was still ongoing. Zhongyu had strutted in with his cousin on his arm, while Yun Menghan sat alone in the back row—solitary and utterly forgotten.
Had Luo Han not deliberately searched, she might not have noticed her at all.
Luo Han tugged lightly on Ling Qingxiao’s sleeve. “Are they arguing again?”
Ling Qingxiao didn’t even lift his gaze. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and said coolly, “Focus on your reading. Stop getting distracted.”
Luo Han was momentarily silenced. She gave up on gossiping with Ling Qingxiao. Moments like this made her miss Ye Zinan—this kind of talk was far more fun with him.
She wondered if Ye Zinan would be part of this mission. She’d been too focused on the Crane Orchid during the last auction to even ask. If he was here, she could share all the freshest gossip for free.
With that thought, Luo Han drew her gaze back, prepared to follow “Teacher Ling’s” instructions and concentrate on reading. But just then, a shadow fell across her desk. Someone had boldly seated themselves at the empty table beside them.
The man sat down with chest puffed out and a righteous aura so overwhelming, it practically spilled into the room. Luo Han blinked, uncertain what was happening.
The newcomer noticed their attention and immediately straightened his back, speaking with booming confidence: “You’re Ling Qingxiao of Zhongshan, right? I only challenge the strong. I’m here to fight you.”
Luo Han was stunned.
The man had thick brows and sharp eyes, his physique built like a fortress. Even through his robes, one could clearly see the outlines of his muscles. He looked like he could physically pick her up and bench press her...twice.
She hesitated and asked politely, “You are…?”
Where on earth did this hot-blooded blockhead come from? Who sent him to challenge the literal boss-level opponent on day one?
“I’m Zou Jibai of the Zouyu clan. First among my people,” he said, puffing out his chest and flexing a bicep. “I heard you’re Zhongshan’s number one. A dragon. Interesting. Do you dare accept my challenge?”
Ah. So he was from the Zouyu tribe.
This ship carried three batches of people. Zhongshan was the first to board, and later came the Changyi Zouyu and Leyuan Suanni clans. Zouyu had the head of a lion and body of a tiger, while Suanni were lion-like in form—both famed for their combat prowess.
Zouyu weren’t as ancient as the dragons, but they were still auspicious beasts passed down from the primordial era. Books described them as kings of the forest—noble, benevolent, yet fierce in battle. Looking at this man’s build...well, he did resemble a tiger.
…Just not in the brain. A bit off from what she imagined of a wise forest king.
Though the Zouyu and Suanni shared the same lofty origins as the dragons, their development had diverged greatly. Zhongshan, though rooted in the dragon clan, had long expanded into an empire, absorbing cultivators from lower heavens and establishing strongholds like Tianzhao City. It functioned like a sovereign power.
Meanwhile, clans like the Zouyu still maintained an ancient tribal system—agrarian, self-sufficient, traditional to the bone.
Dragons had entered late-stage capitalism. The Zouyu were still stuck in ancient subsistence farming.
Luo Han once believed the Zouyu’s commercial weakness stemmed from resource disparity. But now that she’d met Zou Jibai…
…Well, the outcome seemed inevitable.
After flexing his arms, Zou Jibai suddenly entered some kind of muscle-flexing frenzy, cycling through various poses and growling, “Why won’t you accept my challenge? Afraid of me?”
Luo Han was speechless. Ling Qingxiao, even more so, didn’t even bother to look up. “No. Waste of time.”
“Waste of time?” Zou Jibai looked offended. “What, you think our battle would drag on? I’ll defeat you in moments—just you wait! We’ll see at the training ground!”
This guy...Luo Han could barely hold back her laughter. With honest curiosity, she asked, “May I ask how old you are?”
“Nine hundred and eighty-eight,” Zou Jibai replied, eyeing her warily. “Why?”
“Oh, still young. That explains it.” Luo Han gave him a warm smile. “It’s good to have dreams at your age. Remember your words today—the heavens may yet bless you.”
Zou Jibai stared at her, puzzled. This veiled girl had said the strangest things, but she sat beside Ling Qingxiao and encouraged him so earnestly...he was touched.
“Uh...thank you?”
Luo Han smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome.”
Just then, Gu Xing entered. The low hum of chatter in the hall immediately fell into silence.
He walked to the front, took a seat cross-legged behind the table, and smiled warmly. “Greetings, young friends.”
The disciples rose and answered in unison, “Greetings, Star Lord!”
“I am Gu Xing, Deputy Minister of the Tianshu Institute and the one overseeing this mission. Should you have questions, feel free to seek me out.”
He made it sound casual, but no one dared actually trouble him over trivial matters.
Gu Xing continued, “I’m a civil official, here to explain theory. For practical training, Mr. Feiyu will be in charge. As for this mission...I trust you’re already aware of the details. Let me ask first—what do you know of the Devourer Beast?”
Several voices answered.
“It’s a descendant of the gluttonous Taotie. Known for devouring everything.”
“It’s savage and bloodthirsty—one of the most dangerous beasts alive.”
“Correct,” Gu Xing nodded. Still smiling, he asked, “But do you know how it devours? What makes it so violent?”
That stumped many. Seeing this, Gu Xing went on, “The Taotie wasn’t always a beast. In the age of creation, it was a divine creature, capable of consuming the heavens and dissolving light and shadow. But it lost control of its desire, devoured all it saw—even its own body. The Father God had no choice but to seal it away.
“The Devourer Beast is its descendant. Though far weaker, it retains the ability to devour anything near it—including spells.”
A gasp rippled through the hall. Even spells?
Gu Xing nodded with satisfaction. “And that’s not all. These beasts act purely on instinct, devouring anything in their path. Even sealing them in the spirit-suppressing Western Sea doesn’t eliminate the threat. Given time, they’ll consume the entire region. Once that happens, the suppression array will fail, and the other celestial domains will suffer.”
“To prevent this, the Ming Wu Emperor not only sealed the beast but carved space into the sea, setting layered formations to scatter it across shifting terrain. Western Sea has no fixed geography or weather patterns—it’s chaos. The beast is constantly moved from zone to zone, buying time for recovery in affected areas.”
Now Luo Han understood. To preserve the environment, the emperor had fragmented the sea into countless zones. Once they entered, they would face not only the indestructible beast—but ever-changing terrain and climates.
No wonder Ling Qingxiao wanted her to memorize the maps. Getting lost inside could be fatal.
The maps he gave her likely reflected the sea’s original structure. Though scrambled now, the terrain types would remain. They could be dropped anywhere—one moment rushing ahead, the next, face-to-face with a beast...or worse, just as they surrounded one, it might vanish.
The mission was going to be brutal.
Everyone had heard how dangerous Western Sea was, but rumors were one thing. Hearing it from Gu Xing personally—so calmly and with firsthand knowledge—was another.
Luo Han’s heart grew heavier, and the others weren’t faring better. Whispers spread through the hall until Gu Xing cleared his throat. “Enough. You now understand what you face. This afternoon, Star Lord Feiyu will take you through a terrain simulation. Learn the maps. What I tell you now won’t help much—it’s something you must experience. So instead, I’ll explain the spatial formations.”
“Though random, formations follow patterns. Learn the principles, and you can predict them. With luck, you may even gain the upper hand.”
A disciple raised his hand. “Star Lord Gu...have you succeeded in predicting it?”
Gu Xing chuckled kindly. “No. I’ve studied formations for a hundred thousand years and still only scratched the surface. I’ve never once succeeded.”
Luo Han’s confidence took a brutal hit.
The hall erupted in dismay, but Gu Xing raised a hand and said flatly, “Don’t be discouraged. When you cultivate longer, you’ll realize effort isn’t everything. Without talent, no amount of effort matters. I lacked talent in formations. You, perhaps, do not.”
…She felt worse.
He waved his sleeve, and rows of intricate script and lines appeared midair—formation diagrams.
Luo Han hurriedly took out a brush and paper but quickly realized she couldn’t keep up. She swapped to a jade slip and began copying with her divine sense.
Gu Xing’s voice was calm and measured. “Let’s begin. This is the most basic pattern. There are fifty in total, each with five variations. These form the foundation of the spatial array. Combined, they produce different effects…”
Luo Han’s face gradually twisted in despair.
What even was this?
She kept copying anyway—furiously, poorly, but copying nonetheless.
Next to her, Zou Jibai looked at his jade slip, lost. He leaned over and asked in a low voice, “How do you draw the first array? I didn’t finish before he moved on.”
“You’re still on the first one?” Luo Han turned, staring at the ultimate academic casualty. With rare sympathy, she offered her notes. “I think it goes like this.”
Zou Jibai looked and nodded solemnly. “Seems right.”
While they whispered, Gu Xing had already moved on.
“Now, that one was simple,” he said. “Let’s look at nested arrays. This diagram layers three patterns. Here’s the transmission core—”
Luo Han looked up and froze. Zou Jibai scratched his head. “What just happened? How did that become this?”
“No clue,” Luo Han replied.
“Do you understand?” Gu Xing asked suddenly.
Ling Qingxiao nodded lightly. “Yes. That one was fairly simple.”
Luo Han turned slowly. “…You understood that?”
“Mm. Not difficult.” He paused. “You didn’t?”
Luo Han felt a metaphorical sword stab her right in the chest.
As expected—between a study god and a study loser...true friendship could never exist.