Battle Through the Heavens: Starting with Cao Ying as an apprentice

"When Yao Chen comes back, I'll just throw it to him!" Su Baichen made up his mind.

"As for resurrection, let's wait until Cao Ying has collected the three different flames before resurrecting him," Su Baichen pondered.

The resurrection method of the Divine Journey Fire Refining Technique not only requires powerful alchemy skills and soul power, but also specific conditions. The power of the three different flames is key, as they can both reshape the physical body and awaken memories and essences deep within the soul that have been worn away by time.

After deciding where to place the Radiant Flame, Su Baichen finished his tea and got up to walk into the inner room.

He took out the Heavenly Profound Pearl, infused it with a wisp of battle qi, and the pearl immediately emitted a soft light, forming a stable spatial entrance.

He stepped inside and disappeared into the inner room, leaving only the Soul-Nourishing Stone lying quietly on the table, its surface shimmering with a warm luster.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away.

A figure in black robes stood on the hilltop, gazing at the brightly lit, massive city in the distance.

The night wind rustled his wide robe sleeves. Beneath his hood, a sharp face was half-hidden in the moonlight, his eyes burning with a flame suppressed for many years.

Maple City.

One of the most chaotic yet most prosperous cities in the Black Corner Region, controlled by the Medicine Emperor Han Feng.

The city walls are towering, and the city gates are bustling with people. Even after nightfall, the city remains noisy.

“Traitor, it’s time to settle our scores.”

Yao Chen's voice was low and calm, yet it contained boundless hatred and disappointment.

He slowly raised his hand, his fingers emerging from his black robe. With a slight tap of his fingertip, ripples spread through the air. The next moment, his figure vanished from the hillside like a ghost, leaving only a lingering echo carried away by the wind.

In the heart of Maple City, at Han Feng's residence.

This mansion occupies the best location in Maple City, its architecture magnificent yet solemn, with guards patrolling everywhere, each exuding a powerful aura. Deep within the mansion, in the alchemy chamber, Han Feng is completely focused on refining a sixth-grade pill.

The Sea Heart Flame moved with ease in his hands, its deep blue flames gently enveloping the suspended medicinal herbs, slowly refining them into the purest medicinal liquid.

As the flames leaped, they reflected Han Feng's focused yet gloomy face. He looked to be in his thirties, handsome yet with a touch of meanness, and a lingering sinister aura always hung between his brows and eyes.

"Master, why won't you give it to me?"

Han Feng muttered to himself, his voice unusually clear in the quiet alchemy room. He stared at the flickering Sea Heart Flame, his eyes gradually turning venomous.

"Look at me now, even without your guidance, I've reached the sixth-grade alchemist level."

The medicinal liquid slowly fused in the flames, releasing a refreshing medicinal fragrance. This should have been the most satisfying moment for an alchemist, but Han Feng's face showed no joy whatsoever.

“My talent is clearly very strong. If you had given me that nameless cultivation technique, I could have already reached the threshold of becoming a seventh-grade alchemist.”

His voice grew louder and louder, and the Sea Heart Flame in his hand pulsed violently, nearly incinerating the nascent medicinal liquid. Han Feng quickly composed himself and controlled the flame's temperature, but the resentment in his eyes only intensified.

"It's all your fault, it's all your fault, you were wrong!"

The medicinal liquid finally blended perfectly and gradually solidified into a pill. Han Feng put the pill into a jade bottle, his movements rough, as if he were handling something repulsive.

He walked to the window, looked up at the night sky, and that kind yet stubborn face reappeared in his mind.

Yao Chen. His master, and also the thorn in his heart forever.

He clearly possessed exceptional talent, could have become even stronger, and deserved the best resources and inheritance.

But Yao Chen always made excuses, saying that the time was not right, that his temperament was not good enough, and that the technique was too dangerous.

All excuses! It's nothing but stinginess, nothing but jealousy, nothing but the pathetic mentality of not wanting to see a disciple surpass the master!

Han Feng clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing out traces of blood.

So many years have passed, but whenever he concocts medicine or uses the Sea Heart Flame, he always thinks of that person.

I recall his hypocritical teachings, his feigned concern, and the nameless martial arts technique he refused to relinquish until his death.

"If you had given it to me back then, why would I have needed to cooperate with the Soul Palace, why would I have had to bear the infamy of killing my master..." Han Feng muttered to himself, but then sneered.

"No, I have no regrets. You deserve to die, everyone who stands in my way deserves to die."

He turned to leave the alchemy room, but suddenly froze in place.

There was another person in the room.

A black robe and hood, standing silently in the shadows, as if he had been there from the very beginning.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the lower half of the man's face—an aged, wrinkled silhouette that made Han Feng's blood almost freeze.

The alchemy room was eerily quiet, with only the increasingly loud pounding of Han Feng's own heartbeat echoing in his ears. He wanted to move, to shout, to summon his guards, but his body seemed nailed to the spot, and no sound came out of his throat.

The man in the black robe slowly raised his head, and from the shadow of the hood, a pair of eyes that seemed to burn with invisible flames stared directly at Han Feng.

A voice rang out, calm, cold, and carrying a weight that transcended life and death, echoing clearly in the silent alchemy room:

"You traitor, it's been a long time."

Chapter 174 The Beginning and End of Fate!

"You traitor, it's been a long time!"

"Have you ever thought of becoming my teacher?"

The jade bottle in Han Feng's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," and the pills rolled out, bouncing between the stone slabs before finally coming to a stop.

He opened his mouth, but could only gasp for breath. His face drained of color, and his eyes were filled with a ghostly terror.

Yao Chen took a step forward, and the moonlight finally illuminated his face completely.

That was the face Han Feng had seen countless times in his nightmares, but now it felt more real and terrifying than any dream he had ever had.

When Han Feng saw Yao Chen's face, it was as if he had been struck by lightning, and he froze on the spot.

His pupils contracted sharply, his lips trembled, and he uttered incoherent murmurs:

"Master...Master...weren't you dead?"

"This is impossible... how could he have come back to life?"

He suddenly raised his hand and pinched his arm hard. The pain made him gasp, but it also added to his fear.

"A dream...yes, it must be a dream, another nightmare!"

"Wake up! Wake up!"

Han Feng closed his eyes and then suddenly opened them again, but that familiar face was still in front of him—an aged but still dignified face, eyes that were once full of love for him but were now as deep as an ancient well, and a plain white robe fluttering slightly in the night wind.

Yao Chen looked quietly at his disciple, to whom he had once poured all his heart and soul, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

In those years, he taught Han Feng how to identify medicinal herbs, explained pill formulas to him late at night, and was even happier when Han Feng successfully refined a second-grade pill for the first time than when he himself broke through to the next level.

Those memories surged like a tide, but shattered into poisoned icicles at the moment of betrayal, piercing his heart every time he thought of them over the years.

"You're not dreaming." Yao Chen's voice was terrifyingly calm, each word seeming to have been carved out from the depths of time.

"I'm not dead."

These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over his head; all the fear, terror, and disbelief on Han Feng's face vanished in an instant.

He seemed to have changed his mask; his expression instantly became innocent and sorrowful, his eyes quickly reddened, and tears came without warning.

"Master!" He knelt down with a thud, crawling forward on his knees, and said with great grievance, "I am innocent! I was placed under a restriction by the people of the Soul Palace and was controlled by them! It wasn't me who betrayed you that day, it really wasn't me!"

He wept uncontrollably, every syllable filled with remorse: "Please forgive me, forgive me, Master! I am your disciple! Didn't you say that no matter what mistake I made, you would forgive me?"

Han Feng cried his heart out, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably; anyone who saw him would feel sorry for him. As he cried, his fingers, hidden in his sleeve, secretly formed a hand seal, and a very subtle fluctuation of his soul quietly sent out of the mansion.

As Yao Chen watched his superb performance, the last trace of warmth in his eyes finally vanished. He sighed softly, a sigh filled with immense disappointment.

"Stop acting." Yao Chen's voice was deep and clear.

"The message you just secretly sent won't get out."

Han Feng's crying stopped abruptly.

"Before I met you, I had already completely sealed off the space around the entire Han residence." Yao Chen raised his hand, his five fingers loosely clenched, and ripples like water spread through the air.

"The message can't get out at all. So you don't need to act anymore, stalling for time won't help, no one will come to save you."

Silence spread through the courtyard. A night breeze blew, swirling up a few fallen leaves, making a soft rustling sound, which only accentuated the deathly stillness of the moment.

Han Feng slowly stood up from the ground and brushed the dust off his knees. When he raised his head again, there was no trace of tears on his face; instead, there was an almost ferocious resentment.

"Heh..." He chuckled softly, the laughter squeezed out from deep in his throat, cold and chilling.

"Old man, you've become more vigilant. You actually knew to seal off the space in advance."

Yao Chen looked at him, the last trace of emotion in his eyes returning to calm: "After all, you've already fooled me twice. As your master, I can't just drown in the same river a third time, can I?"

"So what if I lied to you?" Han Feng suddenly raised his voice, his face contorted.

"I did nothing wrong! You won't give me that nameless martial arts manual because you're afraid I'll surpass you! You're jealous of my talent! You never genuinely wanted me to become stronger!"

His roar echoed in the night sky, carrying years of pent-up resentment and unwillingness.

Yao Chen looked at him quietly for a long time before speaking, her voice filled with deep weariness: "Even now, you still think this way, you're still so unrepentant and unwilling to admit your mistakes, right?"

"Repent? Admit your mistakes?" Han Feng laughed maniacally, as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world.

"What have I repented for? What mistakes have I admitted?"

He spread his arms wide, his eyes flashing with madness: "I'm not wrong! You're the one who's wrong! And even if I am wrong—"

He paused, then said, word by word, "And no one can punish me!"

Before he could finish speaking, a blinding light suddenly erupted from Han Feng's body! His boundless battle qi surged wildly, and his body expanded rapidly as if inflated—he was about to self-destruct!

Yao Chen simply shook his head, the movement as light as brushing dust off his shoulder.

"Sigh..." He sighed softly, looking ahead, his voice filled with complex emotions.

"You're someone I trained. I've been fooled by you twice, but there will never be a third time."

Just as Han Feng's body was about to explode, Yao Chen suddenly grabbed forward!

The hand seemed to pierce through the void, reaching directly into Han Feng's body and precisely grabbing a wisp of eerie blue light that was trying to escape—that was Han Feng's soul. He actually wanted to use the self-destruction of his physical body as a cover to allow his soul to escape!

"You! You! You actually..." Han Feng, in his soul state, was terrified. He never expected that his carefully designed fake death scheme would be seen through at a glance.

Yao Chen looked at the struggling soul in his palm, its illusory face still frozen in disbelief.

Memories flashed by like a revolving lantern—the clear-eyed boy at their first meeting, the child blushing with excitement when he successfully refined the elixir, the days and nights he respectfully called him "Master"...

"Go to hell." Yao Chen closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was only determination in his eyes.