Space tore open, revealing a thirty-three-story mirage, so grand it could be called the overlord of the sea.
Ming Zhizhan and the other two walked straight in, their path unimpeded, reaching the thirty-third floor.
A phantom realm then descended. The path ahead was paved with nameless desires, the air itself burning, and the ability to tear open spatial rifts was completely restricted. There was no turning back.
"Hahahahahaha...!"
A bizarre, unpredictable laugh permeated the entire floor, its source unknown. "You three, this God King was wondering how to find you, and you've come knocking. Excellent. Rest assured, this God King will devise a fitting death for each of you."
The next second, Liuli Qian Suo was utterly astonished! "You dare consume all of this God King's millennia of accumulated elixirs?!"
Ming Zhizhan smiled faintly. "You only notice now? A bit late, wouldn't you say."
"Damn you, you scoundrel... unforgivable! Boy, what's your name?!"
Ming Zhizhan shrugged and smiled. "I'm not a boy. I am Ming Zhizhan."
Liuli Qian Suo roared, "Ming Zhizhan! I'll flay you alive first!"
A stream of purple energy rippled outward! ...It then dispersed, turning transparent. In an instant! Before the three could react, they were ensnared by illusions.
Illusions prey on each person's weaknesses, on the deepest, most vulnerable parts hidden within their experiences.
Ming Zhizhan's inner demon was not himself, but Tian Ranlin, Tian Ranlin in the Celestial Sphere.
Regardless of whether it was his present, past, or future, the seed of Tian Ranlin had been deeply planted. Even if it was poisonous, even if it would never sprout, it was of no consequence, for it had been planted and could not be removed.
When he was on Earth, the one he cared about most was Tian Ranlin. In the Northern Desert, his mind was filled with Tian Ranlin, clad in a black gauze dress, her skin as pure as snow. In the Iron Horse Empire of the Celestial Sphere, he thought of her incessantly, longing to see the one he loved most in his heart, Tian Ranlin.
Even now, though Tian Ranlin had become another person, her personality, character, appearance, and physique all changed, she was still Tian Ranlin.
In Ming Zhizhan's heart, he owed her an apology, but it was useless, for the person Tian Ranlin most wished not to see was precisely him, Ming Zhizhan.
Here, there were no flowers or grass, no vibrant weather, and no colorful scenery.
He arrived in a warped, empty space. The ground was tilted. His heart was filled with dread; no, to be precise, it was resisting what was approaching him, or rather, the things approaching him.
His heart pounded wildly, for he was too familiar with this feeling. It was a person, a woman, tied to a ten-meter-high rope. Ouyang Nifeng, Yanran Qingcheng, even Yan Lixue, Yan Fei, and Jie Qingxia were all there.
Ming Zhizhan drew closer. His blurry vision cleared. It was Tian Ranlin!!
She was covered in blood, clearly having been whipped no less than a hundred times. Yet, she still smiled, or at least the corners of her mouth did, looking at Ming Zhizhan. Her voice was mournful and pitiful: "While I was gone... you were so eager to organize your harem..."
She grew weak again. "Ming... Zhi... Tian, you make me so happy..."
To others, these words might have been literal, but to Ming Zhizhan, they sounded like: "Ming Zhizhan, you have disappointed me greatly."
Ming Zhizhan took a step forward, secretly swallowing the lump in his throat. "No, you listen to my explanation."
Tian Ranlin was still in her black gauze dress, still as beautiful, but she also sank further, consumed by the relentless torment, silenced by the heartlessness of her subsequent tragic life.
She gave up resisting. "Hiss... Crack!"
"Ugh!..." Tian Ranlin was whipped again, a lash across her face, leaving an obvious scar that utterly shattered her beauty in the deepest recesses of Ming Zhizhan's heart.