Volume One: The Celestial Palace Amidst the Clouds Chapter Seventy-One: The Coffin

Chapter Seventy-One: The Coffin

“Zhou Hao, congratulations!” Watching Zhou Hao soar toward him, triumphant and full of vigor after emerging from the pitch-black space, Su Qing knew he had succeeded.

At this moment, Zhou Hao held a dark stone sword in his left hand and a yellow-skinned gourd in his right, his entire being radiating joy and pride.

“So the sword embryo is actually your black stone slab? Unbelievable—it can suppress the yellow-skinned gourd!” Su Qing was astonished upon learning the cause of Zhou Hao's victory, especially at the sword embryo in his hand.

“Yes, I’m surprised myself. Who would’ve thought the black fellow would transform like this today? It’s all thanks to this gourd!” Zhou Hao beamed, lavish in his praise for both gourd and sword.

From the battle just now and his past experiences, Zhou Hao already knew this stone sword’s origins were extraordinary. Its material matched exactly the Great Solar Palm Stone Tablet, suggesting its former owner was at least equal to, or stronger than, the Sun Lord. Moreover, it could firmly suppress the yellow-skinned gourd, proving its rank far exceeded that of the gourd, whose own power was obvious—it could summon sword energy capable of shattering the void, a force unimaginable, enough to drive even Immortal Kings mad.

Today, Zhou Hao had found treasures—two great ones, in fact—and one of them was intimately tied to his own life.

“But everyone witnessed the gourd’s terrifying power earlier. Now that you possess it, you’d best keep it hidden to avoid unnecessary trouble. In the Immortal Realm, murder for treasure happens daily. You must be careful!” Su Qing, after her brief amazement, quickly became concerned, repeatedly warning Zhou Hao to stay vigilant.

“I understand. Well, we should head over there now!” Zhou Hao nodded, then gazed toward the depths of this treasure world.

“Yes. The Dragon King’s coffin is of utmost importance. Once we approach, a series of changes may occur—we must prepare in advance!” Su Qing’s brows knitted, her expression grave.

Two streaks of light shot skyward, racing toward their destination with utmost speed. The greatest secret of this Crystal Palace’s treasury was about to surface.

Deep within the treasury lay a gigantic circular pool, conspicuous and vast, spanning a hundred miles. Viewed from above, it resembled a Tai Chi diagram! A winding path divided the pool into two parts: one side was a blazing river of red flames, where fierce fire erupted, the heat astonishing. The other side was a serene blue marsh, shimmering dreamily, though thick white mist hovered above the water. Anything touching this mist instantly turned to ice and plummeted into the blue depths.

But the most crucial element was not at the two extremes of the Tai Chi figure, but at its dividing line—the curved path at the pool’s center. Upon this path were gathered all the disciples from the four great factions. Ahead of them, a pure white crystal coffin sat at the center, lidless. One could clearly see inside: a square box glittering like blue diamond, surrounded by countless treasures—jade swords, beast tooth necklaces shining with rainbow light, golden cauldrons, emerald pill bottles, and all manner of spirit stones.

Around the crystal coffin bloomed numerous crimson flowers and grasses, sparkling like blood diamonds. Just inhaling their fragrance filled everyone with comfort, their immortal energy surging. These were the legendary Dragon Blood Flowers and Dragon Blood Grass, so named for their contact with dragon blood. But only those plants tough enough to withstand and merge with the blood’s fierce power could transform into such divine herbs—ordinary plants would simply turn to ash, for dragon blood, while precious, also contained astonishing destructive force.

“The Dragon King’s coffin is right before us—shall we make our move?” The disciples of the four factions made no attempt to hide their greed, clamoring to pluck the dragon blood herbs and seize the treasures within.

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“So far, we haven’t found any sign of Cai Lingzi. That can only mean one thing: this place must be a den of danger. We must not be careless!” The strongest disciple from Wind Desert narrowed his eyes, surveying the coffin and his surroundings with a furrowed brow.

“So what do you think we should do now, Feng He?” asked the top disciple from Fire Plains, named Huo Yi. Both he and Feng He were early-stage Golden Immortals, the most formidable young experts of their factions. Rain Lake and Thunder Mountain also each had a Golden Immortal disciple, but they had not come for other reasons.

“Ah, there’s nothing for it—we two Golden Immortals must act together and play it by ear,” Feng He said, shaking his head bitterly. Clearly, even the strongest felt overwhelmed by such temptation and peril.

“Agreed. But to be cautious, let’s test the waters with our weapons first!” Huo Yi proposed.

The two ordered the others to step back and summoned their immortal weapons, sending beams of blue and red light—a blade and a sword—hurtling toward the coffin.

Before they even reached it, a sudden crimson barrier sprang up around the coffin, repelling them. The blade and sword struck the earth nearby, vibrating incessantly.

“What? The Dragon Blood Grass and Flowers form a barrier to protect the coffin!” Feng He and Huo Yi exclaimed in surprise, then had a moment of realization—the flowers’ abundance was for the barrier’s construction.

Just then, two streaks of light descended behind the disciples, their brilliance fading to reveal Zhou Hao and Su Qing.

“You two? Why are you following us?” a Rain Lake disciple demanded, his tone hostile.

“Haha, what an interesting question. Our Immortal Hall agreed with your four factions to search for treasures together. So you think only you can come, but we’re forbidden?” Zhou Hao hadn’t wanted conflict, but the Rain Lake disciple’s attitude compelled him to respond.

“What do you mean? Immortal Hall is nothing but a bunch of losers in our eyes. How dare a mere disciple talk to us like this!” the Rain Lake disciple sneered, his tone growing even more brazen.

“Watch your mouth, or I won’t hesitate to tear it apart,” Zhou Hao replied calmly, staring at the arrogant disciple.

“You’ll tear my mouth apart? Ha! You pathetic loser can only win with words. But you’ve truly angered me now!” The Rain Lake disciple’s mocking smile vanished as he clenched his fists, his face twisted with fury.

“Die, loser!” With no mercy, the Rain Lake disciple struck, transforming into a blue spear, its tip shining with an arrowhead of blue light, sharp and deadly.

The crowd watched with the indifference of spectators—none intervened or spoke up. Zhou Hao glanced at the female disciple from Wind Desert; she seemed highly entertained, a smile curving her lips as the Rain Lake disciple attacked.

Zhou Hao felt neither joy nor sorrow. He knew some people were born to look down on others; the only answer was overwhelming force.

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With a clang, Zhou Hao’s right hand produced the dark stone sword, which traced an arc through the air. The incoming spear was knocked aside, and its wielder crashed to the ground, unable to rise.

Moments passed. Blood pooled, staining the ground where he lay.

After a while, the crowd stirred, some shouting in outrage and pointing at Zhou Hao, ready to start a fight. Feng He, the strongest from Wind Desert, spoke: “Inferior skill is no one’s fault but your own.”

He then fixed his gaze on Zhou Hao. “To kill a quasi-Golden Immortal in one move, and so easily—if I weren’t a Golden Immortal myself, I doubt I could defeat you.”

“Just swatting a fly, Brother Feng. You flatter me.” Zhou Hao smiled at Feng He, his tone light and unassuming.

Feng He’s expression darkened, murderous intent flickering in his eyes, though he suppressed it. The Rain Lake disciples were furious, wishing to flay Zhou Hao alive—for them, ten Zhou Haos couldn’t equal one of their own.

“Master Zhou, you and Fairy Su Qing arrived at the perfect time. Now we face another problem. See that crystal coffin ahead? It’s said to be the Dragon King’s, filled with countless treasures, but none within reach.” The female disciple from Wind Desert stepped forward, troubled, gesturing toward the coffin.

“It certainly is a coincidence—every time Lady Feng Ling speaks to me, it’s because a problem has arisen!” Zhou Hao replied with a mock smile to the alluring woman before him.

“Oh dear, what are you saying, sir? I very much enjoy your company. The problem is just an excuse—after all, it would be improper for a young lady to approach a gentleman without reason.” Feng Ling responded with feigned sincerity, playing her part with practiced ease.

Zhou Hao smiled but said nothing. His eyes caught sight of a blue-robed man in the crowd—Feng Jun, whom he had met before. At that time, Feng Jun and Feng Ling had been an unbeatable duo, even drawing a comment from the tortoise. Now, however, Feng Jun glared at Zhou Hao with gritted teeth, as if wishing to devour him.

“It’s your junior who courts attention—not my fault,” Zhou Hao lamented inwardly.

Zhou Hao, Su Qing, Feng He, and Huo Yi gathered together. The four, their strength unquestionable, began to discuss how to break the barrier formed by the dragon blood herbs around the coffin, Zhou Hao’s rank a step lower, but his wisdom unmatched.