Transforming into a stunningly beautiful fox spirit, leaving a scar on the heart of a prodigy.

The bronze flying boat broke through the thick clouds, its hull trembling slightly.

Chen Xuan sat cross-legged in the center of the cabin. The last wisp of stagnant blood in his body was crushed along his meridians, turning into a warm current that flowed into his dantian. A crisp sound came from deep within his finger bones, the crack closed, and the bone seams sealed tightly.

He opened his eyes.

With each breath, the foundation of his Great Sage Realm Dao, like a repeatedly forged iron ingot, pressed heavily at the bottom of his dantian, incredibly stable. All the messy hidden injuries in the palace were cleared away, and even the tendons that had broken during his punch with Chen Tianyou were reconnected.

Three hours.

He stood up and glanced at the cup of tea on the table.

The tea had gone cold. A thin layer of condensation formed on the cup, and dust floated on the surface of the tea.

Su Chang'an is not here.

Chen Xuan's fingers clenched tightly.

His knees bounced up half an inch, his back was already taut like he was drawing a sword—then he stopped.

He closed his eyes briefly, suppressing the urge to breathe.

She had said it before, that there was still a long road ahead. He reached under the pillow, pulled out the neatly folded cloak, wrapped it around his neck, and tucked it into his bosom.

The moment my fingertips touched the fabric, my heartbeat finally returned to its normal rhythm.

He pushed open the door and went out. His steps were slow, but each step was heavy.

On the deck outside the door, Chen Mu was waiting with about a dozen collateral relatives. When Chen Xuan came out, Chen Mu knelt down on one knee first, and the others followed suit.

"Big brother." Chen Mu said, head bowed.

No one calls him "Young Master" or "Imperial Son".

These people used to be so unworthy of even looking up at the direct descendants of the Chen family. After their ordeal in the Three Emperors' Secret Realm, the people they had to kneel before had changed.

Chen Xuan's gaze swept across the faces of these people. Their robes were still stained with blood, and several of them had bandages wrapped around their arms, but their spirits were more than twice as high as before they entered the ruins.

"Get up," Chen Xuan said.

Chen Mu stood up, his lips moving. He wanted to say something, such as "Brother, how is your injury?" or "The brothers are willing to go through fire and water for you, Brother," but Chen Xuan had already walked past him.

Chen Mu had no choice but to follow.

"Chen Fan is awake." Chen Mu jogged a few steps to catch up. "He woke up half an hour ago. He doesn't look well, but he can talk."

Chen Xuan paused for a moment.

The Soul-Scattering Pill. That thing was enough to cause a cultivator at the Foundation Establishment Realm to have their soul scattered. Chen Fan swallowed it, shielding him from that calamity.

"Where are the others?"

"The next cabin."

Chen Xuan turned around and pushed open the door next to him.

The cabin wasn't large, and a young man with a sallow complexion lay on the bed by the window. Chen Fan's lips were chapped, and his eyes were sunken, but his eyes were frighteningly bright. When he saw Chen Xuan enter, he struggled to sit up.

Chen Xuan pressed down on his shoulder.

"Lie down."

Chen Fan opened his mouth, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping iron. "Big brother, I..."

"We'll talk about that later." Chen Xuan withdrew his hand from his shoulder. "What's the condition of your dantian?"

Chen Fan paused, then closed his eyes and sensed for a moment, a look of indescribable expression on his face.

"The Soul-Scattering Pill burned away all my original spiritual veins," Chen Fan said in a low voice. "But for some reason, new ones grew back after they were burned away. They're twice as wide as before."

Chen Mu gasped for breath at the doorway.

Destruction precedes construction. This kind of thing does happen in the cultivation world, but the probability is ridiculously low. It's like being struck by lightning, not dying, but instead having your meridians cleared.

Chen Xuan showed little expression. He glanced at Chen Fan for a couple of breaths.

"Recover well from your injury."

After saying those three words, he turned to leave.

Chen Fan grew anxious: "Brother—Miss Su came by half an hour ago. She rummaged through the medicine shelf and took away several medicines I had never seen before. Her footsteps were very hurried."

Chen Xuan stopped.

"When I was half awake, I heard some noise." Chen Fan struggled to lift his hand and pointed in a direction. "Miss Su went into the pharmacy. Her footsteps were very light, but I smelled that fox...that fragrance on her."

Chen Mu chimed in, "Brother, half an hour ago I was patrolling the deck and saw Miss Su carrying a storage bag down to the lower level. The bag was bulging, like something she brought from the imperial palace."

Chen Xuan's brows furrowed.

He remembered something.

On the deck of the Emperor's palace, as Su Chang'an leaned back in her chair and tapped the armrest, her expression was calm, a smile playing on her lips.

But her eyes looked wrong.

He had seen that look before.

Su Chang'an always had that look in his eyes whenever he was doing something behind his back.

"You stay here."

After saying this, Chen Xuan strode towards the lower level of the flying boat.

The lower passageway was half the width of the upper one. Fluorite, used for lighting, was embedded in the walls on both sides, emitting a pale white light. Chen Xuan's footsteps quickened, the sound of his boots pounding on the wooden planks becoming muffled and rapid.

As he rounded the third bend, he smelled something burning.

It wasn't the usual charred smell. It was the smell of spiritual energy overload burning metal. Pungent and bitter.

At the end of the passageway is the bronze door of the alchemy room.

Two kinds of light shone through the crack in the door. One was red, flickering, as if something was burning inside. The other was white, cold and blinding, intertwined with the red light.

Phoenix True Fire and Celestial Fox Origin.

Chen Xuan recognized both auras. He knew them all too well.

Heat waves poured out from the cracks in the door, drying out the air in the passageway. Three steps away from the door, two fist-sized black holes had been burned into the wooden floor, wisps of smoke still rising from their edges. The bronze door had a dark red hue, as if it had been roasted over charcoal for a long time.

Chen Xuan extended his hand.

The moment my palm touched the door panel, a hissing sound rang out, and my skin was scalded.

He didn't back down.

His fingers gripped the edge of the door, veins bulging on his arms. He channeled the spiritual power of a Great Sage into his arms, forcefully pushing open the deformed bronze door a crack.

The gap suddenly widened.