UCS Chapter 141

Chapter 141

Gao Shi, gripping a long-handled axe, walked step by step toward the Heavenly Dao.

With every step he took, the pressure radiating from him intensified; though he had not yet fully regained the power of his past life, he had already surpassed the limits of this world’s peak combat strength.

Ying Bujie stood beside Gao Shi, clad in white Daoist robes that made him appear as though he might ascend to immortality at any moment. He gently turned the Wheel of Dharma in his hand; in a fleeting instant, he glimpsed the karmic ties binding all living beings across past and future lives—a vision so overwhelming that his heart pounded like a war drum, and he dared not look again.

Yet, facing Gao Shi and Ying Bujie, the Heavenly Dao remained utterly unperturbed. It even traced a finger provocatively along the soft curve of Gao Gusheng’s ear—a gesture as intimate as a lover’s caress.

Gao Gusheng glared furiously; the inability to unleash his strength left him feeling stifled and enraged. He longed to smash his fists right into the Heavenly Dao’s face—hard enough to leave it unrecognizable even to its own mother.

The Heavenly Dao slowly raised its head and crinkled its eyes into a smile. Zhang Xu’s features were sunny and handsome—a smile from him ought to have been as refreshing as lemon soda on a summer day—but when the Heavenly Dao wore this shell, the smile sent an inexplicable chill straight to the observer’s core. “That’s right; you’re very clever.”

Heavenly Dao waved his hand unhurriedly, and two humanoid figures materialized out of thin air beside him. “My power is indeed constrained. After all, this is a realm under my jurisdiction; I have no desire to break the rules or incite chaos.”

He openly admitted his weakness, yet no one there could exploit it. Everyone present was a police officer—people who, upon joining the force, had sworn to protect the safety of the public with their lives. How could they possibly turn their blades against the very people they were sworn to shield?

As the figures became distinct, Heavenly Dao stood up, cradling Gao Gusheng in his arms as if he were a beloved doll. “Besides, I don’t need to lift a finger myself to deal with the likes of you.”

“Don’t you agree, Student Gao?”

As he spoke, the blurred figures took on clear outlines. Gao Shi recognized the two individuals before him: they were none other than Sun Jun and Zhou Jing!

Clearly, neither had lost their senses or been forcibly controlled; they even waved a greeting to Gao Shi and Ying Bujie!

Gao Shi exchanged a glance with Ying Bujie, who remarked, “The abilities possessed by the ‘gifted’ in this realm stem from a connection to the Great Dao. The stronger the ability, the closer one is to Heavenly Dao—and the more deeply one is influenced by it.”

Gao Shi added, “That explains it. Zhou Jing’s ability is precognition—an inherent power to glimpse the secrets of heaven—so he is deeply affected. As for Sun Jun, he possesses a rich aura of spiritual energy and immense artistic talent; since painting fundamentally requires one to perceive the world through one’s own senses, he, too, is profoundly influenced.”

They made no attempt to lower their voices, allowing their words to carry clearly across the distance. Heavenly Dao smiled as he watched the two of them playing off one another. “Are you worried that, after defeating me, their reputations might suffer because they stood on my side this time?”

“Ha, you’ve certainly thought this through. But look at them now—they are fully conscious, yet they have betrayed Gao Gusheng. Even if you manage to defeat me, can things truly return to normal in the end?”

Heavenly Dao withdrew his gaze and turned his head toward the two figures flanking him—docile as loyal hounds. Seeming to lose interest in further conversation, he murmured, “Go.”

No sooner had he spoken than a silver-blue halo flashed in Zhou Jing’s eyes. Meanwhile, Sun Jun conjured a paintbrush from thin air and began to draw; in the blink of an eye, a white-eyed, winged tiger leapt down from the void!

Zhou Jing had finished his calculations. His body—ordinarily frail—moved with extraordinary agility as he charged straight at Gao Shi, his fingers hooked like talons, poised to seize and crush.

Heavenly Dao smiled. “A magic brush that turns drawings into reality, and eyes that can foresee and crush future possibilities… It is thanks to the daily nourishment of the Spirit Flower that such divine abilities—capable of touching the very essence of the Great Dao—could be cultivated.”

He looked down at Gao Gusheng, a glint of greed flashing in his eyes.

Gao Shi caught that look, and a strange feeling stirred within him.

*Strange—can Heavenly Dao experience emotions akin to those of a human?*

The tiger roared, its gaping maw revealing a terrifying gullet. Its body was wreathed in blood-red clouds and violet lightning, and its wings spanned dozens of meters—a beast that might have stepped straight out of the *Classic of Mountains and Seas*.

“Shift.”

As Ying Bujie spun the wheel-treasure in his hand, the tiger’s form wavered. It was as if the lines defining it were being erased from a higher dimension; the creature shifted from a tangible tiger into a tangle of chaotic lines, then dissolved into a pool of ink that fell to the ground and vanished without a sound. Sun Jun’s face went pale, yet he raised his brush once more. As he moved, layers of dark clouds surged in from the distance; in the blink of an eye, the partly cloudy sky—where the sun had still been visible—turned pitch-black and ominous, as if the apocalypse had arrived.

There was no time to intervene; the next moment, Zhou Jing’s attack was upon him. Gao Shi felt a sudden, chilling sense of crisis, as if his very life force were being seized.

Zhou Jing’s ability allowed him to perceive every possible future and the likelihood of each outcome. Now, catalyzed by the Heavenly Dao, he could crush all other possibilities, forcing the target onto the single path he desired.

Yet, at the very instant he lunged—the moment he was fully exposed to Gao Shi—he gave Gao Shi a quick, subtle wink.

Gao Shi reversed his grip and swung the axe handle toward Zhou Jing’s midsection. The axe stood as tall as a person; before Zhou Jing could even get within a meter of him, the heavy handle struck him with tremendous force, sending him flying backward like a shuttlecock—

Straight toward the Heavenly Dao, who was cradling Gao Gusheng!

The Heavenly Dao sensed the danger, but behind him, the black dragon summoned by Sun Jun’s brush had already emerged. A torrential downpour—a storm belonging to high summer rather than spring—crashed down to herald the dragon’s birth.

The black dragon let out a mighty roar and whipped its tail toward the Heavenly Dao!

Ahead, Zhou Jing’s gaze was cold and ruthless; his eyes turned crimson, and tears of blood streamed down his face.

He saw it!

The future… belonging to the body of Zhang Xu!

A single instant was all it took.

As the invisible connection was shattered, Zhou Jing spewed a mouthful of blood and lost consciousness. At that same moment, Zhang Xu felt a sharp pain in his foot—

He had stumbled.

And in that split second, Gao Shi’s axe was already upon him! Compared to the giant axe, which was charged with a razor-sharp, murderous aura, the black dragon looming behind was clearly the easier threat to deal with. With a wave of his hand—tinged with irritation—Heavenly Dao caused the black dragon to let out a mournful cry before dissolving into a sky-filling spray of ink droplets; blood trickled from the corner of Sun Jun’s mouth as his arms fell limp at his sides.

But following the black dragon came Ying Bujie.

Clad in white robes amidst the pitch-black rain, he held a Dharma wheel that shimmered with a faint, silvery halo.

“Turn.”

An invisible, terrifying force radiated outward as the cycle of reincarnation instantly unfolded. Within it echoed the sounds of laughter, weeping, furious cursing, prayers, and wailing—a myriad of voices capturing the full spectrum of sentient existence.

Heavenly Dao was on the verge of being sucked into it.

Could Heavenly Dao itself be subjected to the cycle of reincarnation?

No!

Reincarnation was merely one of the rules governing Heavenly Dao; he *was* Heavenly Dao—how could he possibly be harmed by the very cycle he embodied?

Yet, Zhang Xu’s body suddenly went limp and collapsed backward onto the ground; he murmured incoherently, his brows furrowed as if trapped deep within a dream.

Had Ying Bujie not intervened, it would have been the true Zhang Xu who was swept into the cycle. However, because Ying Bujie’s spiritual power had not yet fully recovered, he hesitated for a mere heartbeat—and in that split second, Heavenly Dao broke free from Zhang Xu’s physical vessel.

Seeing that the entity intended to drag Gao Gusheng away as well, Gao Shi’s eyes flashed with fierce intensity. He brought his axe down with a strike that seemed capable of cleaving the heavens themselves, shattering the very fabric of space, and forcibly snatched Gao Gusheng back.

But now, Heavenly Dao was no longer bound by a human shell. He was all things—the void, an intangible and ineffable law. Once Heavenly Dao ceased to concern himself with the living beings of this world, he became its supreme master. A thunderous roar shook the heavens; lightning flashed intermittently as massive boulders, wreathed in celestial fire, plummeted like a meteor shower.

The earth quaked, the ocean roared, and the polar ice caps began to fracture.

“Quick! Activate the formation!”

Gao Shi turned his axe; the razor-sharp blade sliced open his palm. Blood gushed out and dripped onto Gao Gusheng—yet strangely, it didn’t linger on the surface; instead, it instantly sank into Gao Gusheng’s body. The formation inscribed upon him flared to life with a flash of golden light. Gao Shi flicked his wrist, gently tossing Gao Gusheng toward Chang Yang, who hurriedly stepped forward to catch him.

Meanwhile, Ying Bujie pressed his fingers together and slashed his own arm; a stream of blood, like a red ribbon, flowed directly into the center of Gao Gusheng’s forehead.

Gao Gusheng blinked; the seal was broken, and he could move again.

“Goddamn Heavenly Dao—fuck you!”

Gao Gusheng leapt from Gao Shi’s arms and unleashed a torrent of furious profanity at the Heavenly Dao.

He was trembling with rage. After what had just transpired, it was obvious to him: Yanjing and Junzi had been acting as undercover agents—and now, one had suffered eye damage while the other’s hands were left powerless! His two fathers had each sacrificed a massive bowlful of blood just to break the seal! Senior Zhang Xu’s body and identity had been forcibly commandeered—who knew what kind of lasting damage that might cause?

The Heavenly Dao? That goddamn Heavenly Dao! This was nothing more than a supremely selfish higher being toying with lesser lifeforms!

A rich fragrance erupted from Gao Gusheng, and an invisible aura of might rose from him—one that faintly contended with the oppressive weight of the Heavenly Dao itself. Everyone felt a sudden sense of relief; the Spirit Police, in particular, no longer had to struggle against their instincts or force themselves to resist yielding to the Heavenly Dao, even though they remained unable to move freely.

The effects were even more pronounced for Yin Ling and Feiyu. Yin Ling had been relying on the aura of a malevolent spirit to withstand the Heavenly Dao’s pressure—barely managing to force out a few words—but maintaining the seal’s release for too long was taking a toll on his body; he hurriedly re-sealed his power, the bandages around his neck winding themselves back into place layer by layer.

As for Feiyu, he was actually able to move his body slowly, like a long-forgotten marionette creaking its joints back into motion.

Gao Shi felt a stir of realization and looked toward Gao Gusheng.

It was strange—how was his “silly son” able to contend with the Heavenly Dao?

Could it be that because the Heavenly Dao had imbued the Spirit Flower with a soul, his son’s own soul carried a trace of that celestial essence?

That would certainly explain why the Heavenly Dao was so determined to destroy Lele.

—No, that didn’t quite add up. If the Heavenly Dao had granted a soul to the Spirit Flower, why would it go back on its decision and try to reclaim it? Was the Heavenly Dao as fickle and capricious as a human?

A thousand thoughts buzzed in Gao Shi’s mind, yet deep down, he sensed that this wasn’t it—that wasn’t the case at all.

The Heavenly Dao was supposed to be supreme—calm, impartial, and the repository of countless threads of karma. Its rules allowed for no defiance from anyone, not even from the rules themselves.

After Gao Gusheng alleviated the pressure on the group, Feiyu adapted remarkably quickly; despite the sweat beading on his forehead, he was already able to walk with ease.

“Follow me; I’m the strongest one here now.” He strode straight up to Gao Gusheng, wearing a sour expression that seemed to say, “Consider yourself lucky, kid.” Feiyu always had a sharp tongue, but he never let his temper get the better of him at critical moments; everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

After all, the Spirit Police were fundamentally ordinary humans; if Gao Shi and Ying Bujie couldn’t keep the Heavenly Dao in check, there was no way they could protect Gao Gusheng.

A faint sense of dread stirred within them—an instinctual warning of danger, much like that of a small animal sensing a threat.

They felt that if they failed to protect Gao Gusheng and allowed him to fall into the hands of the Heavenly Dao, something truly terrifying would occur—something that would endanger the entire world.

—Or, looking at it purely rationally: how could the Heavenly Dao—an entity willing to unleash natural disasters upon the world’s living beings just to snatch a single person—possibly be anything good?

Rather than entrust their fate to a capricious Heavenly Dao, they would sooner slay it! If they could rebuild the Underworld, they could rebuild the Heavenly Dao, too!

The moment he came face-to-face with the Heavenly Dao, Gao Gusheng felt his vital energy and spirit being drained away. Before long, a profound mental exhaustion set in, leaving him with no spare energy to focus on anything else.

Feiyu stepped to his side; lowering his gaze, he bit his fingertip and began weaving a formation. Seeing this, Huang Shan’s heart skipped a beat as a sense of foreboding washed over him, and he blurted out, “Dongxue…”

The formation took shape, and it seemed as though white feathers were drifting down through the air.

It was a beautiful sight, and Gao Gusheng couldn’t help but gaze at it—yet, a sudden jolt of shock ran through him.

Wait… had Uncle Feiyu’s eyes always been that vivid scarlet?

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