Chapter 21: The Threefold Return to Primordial Qi Against the Immortal Golden Body (Part One)
At the Eastern Empire headquarters, Jue Wushen gazed coldly at Jian Chen, who had been captured by Pojun.
After being struck by the Shexin Seal, Jian Chen knelt before Jue Wushen.
“Hahaha...”
Jue Wushen laughed maniacally. The war was progressing smoothly; Pojun had already gone to challenge the great enemy, Wuming. And the weapon to deal with Wuming lay just beneath the steps—how could Jue Wushen not be delighted?
Years ago, Wuming had stood alone at the gate, single-handedly holding back the Eastern Empire’s army. Now…
The thought of Wuming soon becoming a prisoner filled Jue Wushen with excitement.
...
Pojun entered the Zhonghua Pavilion, admiring the elegant surroundings—a perfect place to retire.
Unfortunately, Pojun could not tolerate his enemy’s comfort, especially someone like Wuming, his mortal foe.
“What would you like to eat, sir?”
The waiter hurried over upon seeing Pojun enter.
With his usual fierce and domineering manner, Pojun grabbed the waiter by the collar and demanded, “Where is Wuming? Bring him out to meet me!”
The waiter, clueless about who Wuming was, could not answer. Pojun, reading the waiter’s expression, understood something and tossed him aside.
The shopkeeper quickly rushed over to steady the waiter.
“Sir, please, let’s talk this through! What do you want with our boss?”
“Wuming is my enemy. I cannot stand to see him living in luxury. Today, I will destroy the Zhonghua Pavilion!”
Pojun declared arrogantly, then struck out with a palm. The shopkeeper tried to block it but was sent flying.
“Ah! The Xingxiong Energy! Your palm strike is poisonous! You... you are Pojun!”
The shopkeeper, seeing the wound on his palm, finally realized who this was—the one who wielded the deadly Xingxiong Energy and bore a grudge against Wuming.
“Hahaha...”
Pojun laughed wildly; finally, someone recognized him.
“You have some insight. I only used one level of my power against you, but it’s enough to send you to the underworld!”
...
“This is the first time since returning to the Central Plains that I’ve unleashed the Xingxiong Energy. Dying by my solitary palm strike is your great fortune!”
“You... you... you...”
The shopkeeper trembled. Others in the pavilion sensed trouble and tried to leave.
“No one leaves!”
Pojun shouted fiercely. He activated his inner power, sweeping his palm to scatter all the tables and chairs in the hall, which tumbled to block the door.
This move demonstrated Pojun’s profound internal strength and skill; controlling even one object with energy was difficult, but he manipulated a dozen simultaneously.
Wuming, aware of Pojun’s arrival, sensed the presence of a master like a blazing torch.
Seeing this, Wuming had no choice but to step out—exactly as Pojun intended. Wuming’s greatest weakness was his compassion.
He might not care for fame, fortune, or even life and death, but he would certainly care about the lives of others.
The Heavenly Sword Realm activated, sword energy surged, and Wuming shattered the barricade of tables and chairs blocking the door.
“Wuming, you finally show yourself!”
Feeling the sword energy, Pojun turned his head and sent a mental message, glancing at the smoky debris where the tables lay shattered on the ground, dust rising.
Wuming entered the hall, hands folded behind his back, and faced Pojun, his senior brother whom he had not seen in decades.
“Qi sinks to the hundred convergences, spirit enters the giant palace; our qi merges, forcing the seven orifices, turning poison into smoke!”
Wuming sent the words mentally as he approached the shopkeeper, placing a hand on him to help expel the poison, ignoring Pojun nearby.
“Hmph, Wuming, you know I came for you, yet you ignore me to heal your servants. No wonder they remain loyal to you—I truly envy that!”
Pojun transmitted his words with mental intent, then struck out with a palm, sending his poisonous Xingxiong Energy toward Wuming.
Though helping the shopkeeper, Wuming’s attention was mostly on Pojun.
As Pojun’s anger flared, Wuming sensed it and swung a single arm. Sword energy formed a circle, deflecting Pojun’s Xingxiong Energy, which smashed into the wine rack, shattering numerous jars.
“Such profound inner strength. Over the years, little brother, you have improved greatly!”
Pojun’s mental voice carried a hint of satisfaction—this was the result of years of preparation and sacrifice to defeat Wuming.
“Pojun, I have lived in seclusion for many years, no longer seeking battle. Victory and defeat no longer matter. Let’s forgo this duel.”
Wuming remained calm in his mental transmission. Having long left the martial world behind, he no longer cared for past grudges—especially since Pojun was their master’s son.
Yet, Wuming’s concession did not please Pojun; instead, it felt like an insult.
“No! For ten years, I have trained day and night to find you and settle this in a deadly battle. Only by determining a definitive victor can we end this once and for all. This is fate—you cannot avoid it!”
“You are my senior brother, and the only son of our master. For his sake, I will admit defeat.”
Wuming lowered his eyes, signaling surrender.
“I don’t care if you surrender. Wuming, you know my temper—I will never relent. I will personally defeat you!”
Pojun’s eyes blazed with fury as he sent the message.
“Don’t let our feud harm the innocent!”
Having finished healing the shopkeeper, Wuming supported him, preparing to rest.
“You refuse to fight? Then I will kill everyone here! All these people will die because of you!”
The silent hall was suddenly pierced by Pojun’s voice, no longer sent mentally but spoken aloud, pointing at Wuming. Wuming’s repeated refusals forced Pojun to threaten those around them.
Pojun’s words made Wuming turn around.
“I didn’t expect your madness to worsen for the sake of battle. Indeed, being your enemy means facing you, with no retreat. Fine, I accept your challenge!”
Both men deeply understood each other’s foundations. Pojun’s refusal to yield and willingness to threaten others was genuine.
Wuming knew this was Pojun’s coercion. Yet, unwilling to see innocent bloodshed because of him, he had no choice but to accept the fight.
...
The next day after the World Assembly, Xiongba agreed to Qin Shuang’s request and left with the Twelve Fiends of Tianchi, preparing to deal with Jue Wushen.
Although Xiongba had discovered the existence of the Celestial Gate, he paid it little mind.
In Xiongba’s view, only the weak hid in the shadows to amass strength; once powerful enough, they would naturally emerge into the light.
His plan was to eliminate enemies quietly—whether Jue Wushen or the Celestial Gate—if they had not shown themselves, it meant they were not a threat to the World Assembly.
What Xiongba could never imagine was that the Celestial Gate Master was a thousand-year-old ancient demon.
Their strength far surpassed the World Assembly, but the Celestial Gate had grown bored of all tricks and now sought only to slay dragons.
Qin Shuang watched Xiongba’s departure with a playful smile, lost in thought:
“Three parts returning to primal qi against the undying golden body—who is stronger, who is weaker?”
Though a question, Qin Shuang already had her answer deep within.