The battle came to an end, and Yan Zhen departed from Qingren Peak. This fight had made all the disciples realize just how formidable this Quasi-Saint Son truly was!
A One-Star Mystic Lord defeating a One-Star Mystic Ancestor—and it didn’t even look like he’d gone all out. What a freakish prodigy!
Moreover, he wielded more than two kinds of Extreme Flames at once. It was simply unheard of!
At Thunder God Peak, a spiky-haired youth with his upper body bare was wrapped in silver lightning. He munched on bloody king beast meat while watching footage of Yan Zhen’s duel with Qingkong Hai.
Once the footage ended and the meat was gone, he licked the blood from his fingers and grumbled in a sullen tone:
“My Wind-Thunder Crystal Fire… Such a great treasure, and you couldn’t even snag it for me to play with, you old coot?”
Thunder Supreme sipped his little flask of wine leisurely from across the way.
“What’s there to envy? Even if this old man brought it back, a punk like you couldn’t handle it. One touch, and you’d drop dead!”
“Then how come Junior Brother Yan Zhen wields it so effortlessly? Without the Wind-Thunder Crystal Fire, he’d probably still be getting worn down by Qingkong Hai. He wouldn’t be in fighting shape to face me tomorrow.”
“Because he’s a once-in-a-millennium prodigy even the Holy Lord couldn’t resist taking as a disciple! This old man figures he’ll come challenging you tomorrow. If you can’t beat him, just forfeit early and don’t embarrass Thunder God Peak!”
“You old fart, is that any way to talk to your own grandson?” Lei Zhenyu sounded annoyed. “Junior Brother Yan Zhen is strong, sure, but I’m no slouch either. As long as he doesn’t pull out that terrifying Mystic Technique of his, I’ve got a real shot at winning!”
“And what if he does?” Thunder Supreme shot back irritably. “You gonna drop dead on the spot for him to see?”
“…”
“…”
Grandfather and grandson fell silent, exchanging awkward glances.
Lei Zhenyu fiddled with the footage, switching it to Yan Zhen’s fight with Ling Jun.
There, the Quasi-Saint Son summoned three Extreme Flames and forcibly fused them together, shaping them into a swirling Milky Way Flame Vortex streaked with vibrant colors.
Its power was absurd—even an Eighth-Order Rune Pattern couldn’t hold it back. Only Snow Supreme’s intervention had stopped it. If that thing had hit him, Lei Zhenyu would’ve been obliterated, no chance of defense.
He told himself he was nothing like that punching bag Qingkong Hai. He was confident he could push Yan Zhen into a corner.
But then the question arose: what would Yan Zhen do when cornered?
Whip out his ultimate move.
Could he block it?
No chance.
—Talk about awkward.
Those losers earlier hadn’t even forced Yan Zhen to show his full strength. Lei Zhenyu might manage it, but… he wasn’t sure he dared to.
What if Yan Zhen didn’t hold back, and the old man failed to intervene? He’d either die or end up crippled.
As Lei Zhenyu agonized over this, Yan Zhen had already returned to his cave abode. He lounged lazily, basking in the service and praise from his wives. Even little Yan’er chimed in with, “Father Emperor is so awesome~,” which set him laughing heartily.
Only Long Ying pouted, her expression full of resentment. Yan Zhen had taken her along for the past couple of days, but not today.
He explained that she’d overslept; no matter how he tried to wake her, she wouldn’t stir. So Long Ying resolved to go to bed early tonight and wake naturally at dawn.
With Long Ying—the little third wheel—out of the picture, Yan Zhen finished his meal and slipped into Cai Lian’s room for some intimate cuddling.
Full intimacy was off the table, but he loved teasing his snake wife, who seemed aloof on the outside but was as thin-skinned as they came.
He remembered how, at the start, Cai Lian had leveraged her past-life memories to toy with the clueless Yan Zhen, acting every bit the sadistic queen. But after acknowledging their bond and getting pregnant, she’d grown more submissive. Now, she was basically putty in his hands—though she’d still offer token resistance with her words.
Under the pretense of checking her pulse, Yan Zhen easily got handsy. Before long, he’d teased her into total surrender. She melted against him, limp and pliant in his arms.
—The teasing master strikes again, terrifying as ever!
The couple sat together on the beauty couch, Yan Zhen embracing Cai Lian from behind. His hands gently caressed her rounded pregnant belly, but his gaze slipped through her collar into those deep, enticing depths.
It felt like they’d grown a size bigger. Curious, Yan Zhen gave them a little heft and asked:
“Have they started swelling already?”
Cai Lian flushed with embarrassment at his words and let out a soft hum.
Sure enough! Yan Zhen pressed eagerly:
“How long has it been? Does it hurt?”
The Sovereign Lady kept her head down, refusing to answer.
He didn’t push her. Instead, he planted a kiss on her cheek and said:
“If it’s uncomfortable, just tell me. I’ll massage them for you… In your past life, when you were pregnant with Yan’er, I wasn’t there by your side. Let me make it up to you this time, Cai Lian.”
Touched deep in her heart, her nose tingled. She turned in his arms, wrapping her hands around her husband’s waist before offering up her lush red lips.
The young couple shared sweetness for a good long while. Then Yan Zhen carried his pregnant wife to bed, coaxed her to sleep, and went to chat briefly with Mentor Yu Xuan and Aunt Shui Bailan. After bidding them goodnight with kisses, he finally returned to his own room.
Tomorrow he’d face off against that brute Lei Zhenyu. He needed to stay in peak condition.
Just as he thought to swing by his beautiful master’s place for some nourishing snacks, ripples spread through space. His white-haired, white-robed Holy Lord Master emerged from the Bitter Sea World—dignified and elegant as ever—right before him.
“Yan’er~”
“Holy Lord Master…”
Yan Zhen had figured she was just speaking idly that morning. But here she was, right on time, just as he was about to head into the Fire Refining Starry Sky. Was she monitoring him or something?
“You’re challenging Thunder God Peak tomorrow, so you must rest early and build up your strength—off to bed with you.”
With that, Jialan Fairy took his hand. Yan Zhen felt his body constrict, and suddenly he was undergoing Return to Infancy, shrinking back to an eight-year-old. Even his short-sleeved sleepwear resized itself perfectly!
—Again!?
Yan Zhen opened his mouth to protest, only to find himself lifted into the air. His Holy Lord Master had scooped him up in a princess carry.
Mortified, he squirmed.
“Holy Lord Master, I can get to bed and sleep on my own. No need to trouble yourself!”
Jialan Fairy gazed at him with pure affection.
“Don’t fuss, Yan’er. Settle your mind first before sleep, calm your qi after, and sweet dreams will follow.”
Her voice was gentleness incarnate, like holy light washing away his agitation. He quieted instantly, blinking his big, dewy eyes up at his Holy Lord Master like the perfect little child.
Jialan Fairy gently placed the eight-year-old Yan Zhen in the center of the bed, tucked him in, then slipped off her outer robe and hair ornaments. She brushed her snowy white locks to one side and slid under the covers, drawing him back into her embrace. She murmured:
“Sleep now, Yan’er. I’m right here by your side~”
How could Yan Zhen sleep? Those plush, sacred mounds pressing against him were distraction enough, and her intoxicating fragrance enveloped him everywhere. His heart pounded, blood racing, leaving him more awake than ever.
Yet strangely, as she whispered softly in his ear, an inexplicable drowsiness washed over him. Before he knew it, sleep claimed him.
Soul Cultivators could control their sleep and dreams at will, but Yan Zhen found no such impulse rising. His mind sank into blissful void, peaceful as the womb.
He slept soundly through the night.
