Chapter 181: Chapter 112: The Seven Stars Gang Colludes with the Moon Worship Sect, the Demon Suppression Envoy is Trapped in the Grand Array, Chu Fan Furiously Kills the Cyan Wood Hall Master

HUFF!

Chu Fan bolted upright in bed, panting heavily.

Crimson moonlight filtered through the window lattice, casting his rigid shadow onto the mottled earthen wall. It twisted and warped, like a tormented spirit struggling in its prison.

A night breeze blew through the window, and only then did he realize he was soaked in a cold sweat.

He’d dreamed of that scene again...

The images, the sounds—they churned uncontrollably in his mind, roaring like a tempestuous sea.

The child’s pale, swollen body, the empty eye sockets, and that faint, lingering cry—

It was like an ice needle, piercing his eardrums again and again, striking the most tremulous depths of his soul.

’This world... is hell...’

Chu Fan clenched his fists, the corners of his eyes twitching uncontrollably.

The image of that little girl surfaced in his mind once more.

She was crying. Not in sorrow, but in supplication—

It was as if she were using her last ounce of strength, begging him to save someone, to go to that light-devouring pit he didn’t even want to think about anymore.

"But... what can I do?"

Chu Fan stared blankly out the window.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t suppress the killing intent in his heart, nor the vast, icy void that accompanied it.

To be wise and protect oneself, to seek fortune and avoid disaster—these were the iron laws of survival in a chaotic world.

He told himself over and over again: ’That cry is an illusion, a Heart Demon, a fetter on the Cultivation Path that must be severed.’

But the crying was incessant, clearer than any real sound, carrying an obstinacy that transcended life and death.

’When did I become so cold and heartless?’

’If it happened all over again, would I still jump in the water to save them?’

Chu Fan didn’t know.

Human nature, once you peeled back the layers, was always cruel.

He sat on the bed, motionless as a stone statue.

He appeared silent and calm, but only he knew the truth—

Right now, he was like a restless, caged beast.

He felt as if his head would split open. Something was blocking his chest, suffocating him to the point he wanted to scream, but not a sound would come out.

Sweat soaked through his inner shirt, clinging coldly to his skin.

An unknown amount of time passed.

The first light of dawn appeared.

The room remained deathly still.

Chu Fan slowly raised his head and put on his robes.

He walked to the wall, took down his longbow and slung it over his back, then buckled the heavy Long Saber to his side.

The CLICK of the metal buckle was exceptionally clear in the silence.

Walking to the door, he pulled it open and left without a backward glance.

On the edge of the bed he left behind, lay an unsheathed dagger.

The dagger was ordinary, lying there quietly like a cold gravestone.

And beneath that invisible gravestone, in this small room, bodies already lay strewn everywhere—

the body of the heartless him, who had once weighed the pros and cons and chosen to flee;

the body of the cowardly him, who had been seized by fear and trembled.

Now, he had personally slain all these "hims," leaving them behind.

Chu Fan strode out, his figure melting into the deep gloom outside the door, never to look back again.

...

The trees lining the official road had already begun to sprout new buds.

A biting spring wind swept across the wilderness dozens of miles north of Cyan Yang Ancient City, still carrying a lingering chill.

It was in this bleak, early-spring landscape that Seven Stars Castle rose from the earth.

The cluster of gray-black buildings ascended the mountainside in layers. At the very top, seven blockhouses stood tall and imposing, looking especially austere under the pale spring sun.

A wide stone staircase, broad enough for eight horsemen to ride abreast, led to the main castle gate.

Flanking the stone steps were several cold stone statues, their presence adding to the stern majesty in the spring chill.

A massive plaque hung high on the gatehouse, inscribed with three words: "Seven Stars Castle."

The calligraphy was like iron strokes and silver hooks; each brushstroke was like a sharp sword, yet the turns held a flowing, water-like rhythm.

This plaque was personally inscribed by the old Gang Leader of the Seven Stars Gang, the ink having seeped three inches deep into the wood’s heart.

Decades later, those three words still gleamed with a cold light under the biting spring sun, like a drawn, frosty blade scrutinizing every person who entered or left.

It was now noon, and the area before the castle gate was bustling with activity.

All sorts of people came and went in a continuous stream. Most wore indigo-colored tight-fitting attire, with a light jacket over top to ward off the spring chill.

Some ambled by on horseback, their hooves clopping crisply on the still-damp bluestone slabs.

Others, in groups of three or five, crossed the high, foot-and-a-half-tall threshold with a brisk and energetic stride.

It was the very picture of a flourishing power.

A month ago, the three major gangs of Cyan Yang Ancient City had been locked in a three-way stalemate.

The Blood Saber Sect, known for its ferocity and cunning, had clashed constantly with the Seven Stars Gang.

But now, the great Blood Saber Sect had collapsed, its territory devoured piece by piece by various other powers.

Meanwhile, the Seven Stars Gang’s power was at its zenith. Their once heavily-guarded Main Altar was now much more open.

The disciples coming and going all had an unconcealable air of triumph and high spirits about them.

On either side of the main gate, two guards stood as straight as pines, their hands on their sabers. With eyes as sharp as an eagle’s, they carefully inspected the waist token of every person who entered.

Whenever their gazes swept over the plaque, a look of almost pious fervor would appear in their eyes.

It was not just the face of Seven Stars Castle; it was the source of their faith and strength—

a symbol of a new era on this land, an era belonging to the Seven Stars Gang.

But they failed to notice a young man in the distance, a bow on his back, walking slowly toward them with a gaze as cold as ten-thousand-year-old ice.

...

Chu Fan’s cold gaze swept over the imposing cluster of buildings.

’This is all exactly as I saw it in my dream.’

Suppressing the chill that surged in his heart, he looked away.

He changed direction, following the vague yet vivid memories from his dream, and sped toward the vast jungle to the northeast.

He climbed over hills and waded through a great river.

One hour later, he stepped into the forest from his dream.

Stepping into the forest was like entering another world.

Towering ancient trees blotted out the sky, and only faint slivers of daylight pierced through the dense canopy, dappling the ground with spots of light.

As he went deeper, a fog began to rise.

At first, it was like a thin veil clinging to his ankles, but in an instant, it grew impenetrably thick.

Beyond five paces, it was already difficult to make anything out.

"This fog... something’s not right..."

Chu Fan pushed off lightly with his feet and shot into the air.

His toes tapped gently on a leaf, making it tremble slightly, and his body had already ascended several dozen feet to stand atop a large tree.

Above him, the air was also thick with fog.

Chu Fan’s heart sank.