Everyone Is Lying
Though using force to subdue others may seem crude, its effectiveness is undeniable.
Despite Donggua’s still-sullen expression, she complied with the actions.
Wukong’s destination became even more straightforward—heading directly for the Tianyan Sect without detouring elsewhere.
“Did that old monk tamper with my divine sense aura?”
After thoroughly examining her own condition, Donggua found this to be the only issue and couldn’t help but ask aloud.
Wukong gave a slight nod. “Your divine sense has been painted over by his great technique. The aura it now emits is no longer the same. Even if Cui Hao were standing right in front of you, he wouldn’t easily recognize you.”
“That monk’s abilities are so extraordinary?” Donggua’s expression was one of disbelief.
For cultivators, divine sense was far more recognizable than one’s face. Yet altering the identifying marks of divine sense was something Donggua had never heard of—not because no one had tried, but because it seemed utterly impractical.
Many had attempted to change their divine sense to conceal their identities, but none had succeeded.
Divine sense originated from the Sea of Consciousness. If forcibly altered, the best outcome would leave the person a drooling, babbling fool.
Wukong replied calmly, “Since it’s a painting, it will fade and wear away. This is merely a temporary disguise.”
Donggua felt a twinge of disappointment but pressed further, “If you painted over my divine sense, why not conceal my face as well?”
Wukong shot her a disdainful look. “Do you think we’re meeting some obedient lapdog?”
“No matter how ingenious the disguise, could it fool those cultivators at the zenith? Altering the divine sense is just a clever trick.”
“If you lack a true method to change your appearance, I know a thing or two myself.”
A bad premonition rose in Donggua’s heart, but she still asked quietly, “What’s your method?”
“Smash half your face. Naturally, you’ll no longer look the same. Don’t worry—I have the precise strength for it.”
Donggua nearly laughed in exasperation. Was the concern really about his strength?
---
Tianyan Sect, Zhuji Peak.
Chu Xingchen leaned on one hand, lazily placing a piece on the board.
Bai Xuanling sat across from him, sipping tea while glancing at the game with a raised brow.
“This game of Gomoku keeps ending in a draw. What’s the point?”
Chu Xingchen reclined further, resting an arm on Xie Lingyu’s shoulder beside him, his tone tinged with regret.
“The board may be a draw, but beyond it…”
“Both of you, scram.” Bai Xuanling naturally understood his implication and snorted, waving them off.
Chu Xingchen remained seated, raising an eyebrow at Xie Lingyu.
“See? Your master’s getting impatient.”
Xie Lingyu, whose turn it was, picked up a piece and made the next move for Chu Xingchen, casually replying,
“That’s just you playing outside the board.”
Bai Xuanling couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation—this disciple wasn’t sparing him either.
Still, Bai Xuanling didn’t leave. Instead, he calmly finished the game that was bullying a lonely old man.
As the match neared its end, Chen Baiqing paused outside the courtyard, observing the situation to ensure his arrival wouldn’t disturb his master before stepping in.
Chu Xingchen noticed his gaze and looked over questioningly.
Chen Baiqing spoke softly, “A monk named Wukong has arrived at the Tianyan Sect’s gates with someone in tow, requesting an audience.”
Chu Xingchen nodded slightly, placing the piece in his hand into Xie Lingyu’s palm. With a smile, he said,
“Keep your master company for a while. I’ll go meet this monk and ask if he’d like to renounce asceticism and guard our mountain gate.”
Xie Lingyu waved him off, signaling the ever-jesting Chu Xingchen to go about his business.
As Chu Xingchen rose and bowed to Bai Xuanling before leaving with Chen Baiqing, Bai Xuanling watched his retreating figure and suddenly chuckled.
“Back in my day, I was much like him—longing for a moment’s rest but pushed forward by one matter after another.”
“The journey felt arduous, but looking back now, I realize I’ve become what others call a legend.”
“Lingyu, do you think Chu Xingchen will be the next legend in their mouths?”
Xie Lingyu pondered briefly before shaking his head.
“I’d rather he not be.”
Bai Xuanling chuckled and teased, “Oh? Lingyu’s learned to care for others?”
Xie Lingyu’s hand, holding a piece, paused mid-air, his expression indignant.
When Chu Xingchen was around, his master never teased him. The moment Chu Xingchen left, the jabs wouldn’t stop.
Damn it—this was bullying him now that his mouthpiece was gone.
---
Outside the Tianyan Sect.
Wukong stood composed, his gaze calm as he observed the sect.
Under normal circumstances, as the Central Plains’ Buddhist prodigy, he should at least be allowed inside the Tianyan Sect’s inner grounds rather than waiting at the mountain gates.
It seemed their wariness of the Buddhist faith ran deep—enough to disregard even the face-saving formalities among the Eighteen Immortal Sects.
But so be it.
In contrast to Wukong’s serenity, Donggua’s expression was far from pleasant.
During their last encounter, a single glance from Chu Xingchen had sent her into a panic, as if half her soul had already stepped onto the path of death.
Now, voluntarily seeking him out felt like walking straight to her doom.
Donggua’s appearance had been altered—somewhat imagined, but her features had been adjusted.
This wasn’t her true form to begin with, so minor changes were manageable.
Now, she could only hope this so-called “painting” was truly effective…
The two stood in the snow for quite some time, long enough for Donggua’s tension to ease slightly.
Then, a voice that filled her with dread rang out—and its meaning terrified her even more.
“Is this the sincerity you’ve brought?”
Chu Xingchen stood before the Tianyan Sect’s gates at some unknown moment, his gaze sweeping past Wukong before settling on Donggua.
Wukong, momentarily unsure of Chu Xingchen’s meaning, didn’t respond directly. Instead, he clasped his hands in greeting.
“An honor to meet you, Benefactor Chu.”
Chu Xingchen’s attention remained fixed on Donggua, ignoring Wukong entirely.
Under normal circumstances, if Wukong had brought Donggua with an altered appearance, it might have been part of some act—and Chu Xingchen might have played along to see what the monk was scheming.
But now…
Donggua’s status had inexplicably gained a black tag: [Seed of the Desire Demon].
In the short time since their last meeting, she must have encountered someone—or been tampered with.
Chu Xingchen couldn’t yet determine the effects of this [Seed of the Desire Demon], nor whether it had eavesdropping capabilities.
Based on his deductions, the previous attempt to slay the Twin Demons had likely failed. Donggua was probably sent back as a probe.
“Since you’ve brought her, why keep up the act? At the Tianyan Sect’s gates, where could she possibly flee?”
Chu Xingchen’s expression turned arrogant as myriad forces coalesced into a longsword in his grip, its tip pointing directly at Donggua.
“Last time, I wasn’t paying attention, letting a little fish like you slip through the net. But in this vast world, there are plenty of nets—and bait named ‘kindred’ to lure you back.”
“No wonder you’ve been fooled so easily, running around deceived. You really are adorably stupid. Pity there aren’t more demons as dim-witted as you—my life would be much easier.”
Donggua’s face drained of color, leaving only eyes brimming with hatred as she glared at Wukong.
How…?
Everyone was lying to her.
could easily deceive her.
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