Chapter Sixty-One: Jiang Yiyi’s Rescue

On the seventh day, as predicted, the tribulation clouds grew smaller and seemed on the verge of dissipating. Zhou Qi grew increasingly uneasy, still unable to find a means of escape. Everyone observed the shrinking clouds with utmost vigilance.

“Zhou Qi, two hundred miles north stands a large tree. Beside it, I’ve set up a teleportation array. Do not arouse suspicion; move towards it slowly. Once the lightning tribulation ends, step onto the array. I’ll activate it and send you away.” A pleasant voice whispered in his ear—it was Jiang Yiyi.

Zhou Qi wasn’t sure if he should trust her, but there was no other way. Desperate, he decided to gamble. Seeing Zhou Qi unmoved, the voice continued, “I merely regret having put you in danger. If you survive, I hope to seek guidance on the Medicine Immortal legacy from you someday. Don’t overthink it.”

North lay in the direction of Long Chengye. Zhou Qi pondered for a moment, then shouted at Long Chengye, “Long Chengye, we’ve never had enmity before, yet your suspicions now threaten my life. I’ll fight you to the bitter end!” With that, he charged at Long Chengye.

Everyone saw Zhou Qi’s irrational actions. With the tribulation nearly over, his struggle seemed no more than that of a trapped insect. As Zhou Qi rushed forward, Long Chengye vanished, retreating instantly. Zhou Qi pursued relentlessly, cursing loudly as he chased, “Long Chengye, you old wretch—serves you right to lose your son! You’re a disgrace, doomed to die miserably. Your existence wastes spirit stones and air. You’d be better off dead, reuniting in hell with your son!”

Long Chengye’s expression darkened dangerously, his fury boiling over. He longed to strike Zhou Qi dead, but seeing the tribulation cloud above Zhou Qi’s head, he held back.

“Long Chengye, you’re speechless now, aren’t you? Everyone, look at this shameless old man—he’s lived all these years like a dog, coveting the Medicine Immortal Sanctuary on me under the guise of avenging his son, when in truth, he schemes to acquire it behind Tiandao Sect’s back,” Zhou Qi continued his tirade.

“You wretch, utter one more word and I’ll tear you to pieces, even if it means drawing the tribulation upon myself!” Long Chengye was truly enraged—insulting him was one thing, but accusing him of disloyalty to Tiandao Sect was a grave offense, especially with fellow sect members present.

Seeing Long Chengye provoked, Zhou Qi panicked, realizing he’d gone too far. Fearing Long Chengye might disregard everything and attack, Zhou Qi stopped taunting him and pressed forward in silence, approaching ever closer to the place Jiang Yiyi had described. Sure enough, there was a large tree.

Calculating the distance for his Divine Walk technique, Zhou Qi ceased his chase, feigning exhaustion and swallowing a restoration pill. He glanced up at the tribulation clouds—seven days had passed, and this was surely the final wave. He’d observed the clouds while running, and now was the perfect moment.

Several Tiandao Sect disciples were wholly focused, ready to seize him the moment the tribulation ended. The others dared not interfere; even Long Chengye, though consumed with hatred, wouldn’t dare snatch Zhou Qi in front of Tiandao Sect.

The final bolt of lightning struck Zhou Qi. He endured it, and without pausing to heal, instantly teleported to the tree. The teleportation array flared to life, and Zhou Qi vanished.

A Nascent Soul cultivator’s giant hand grasped futilely at the spot where Zhou Qi had stood, catching nothing.

Zhou Qi’s sudden disappearance at the tree stunned everyone. Aunt Bing’s face darkened. “You dare snatch someone from Tiandao Sect right under our eyes? Bold indeed. Go, find out where he was transmitted.”

A disciple stepped forward, carefully investigating. After a moment, he shook his head. “A single-use teleportation array—it self-destructed after activation. Judging by the transmission fluctuations, it was a random teleport; impossible to pinpoint the destination. This array is of high grade, beyond my ability to decipher.”

Aunt Bing exhaled deeply, suppressing her anger. Without another word, she turned and left.

Seeing even Tiandao Sect powerless, the crowd dispersed, astonished that Zhou Qi had escaped under their noses. Long Chengye, like a frostbitten eggplant, aged ten years in an instant.

Jiang Yiyi, hidden in the shadows, breathed a sigh of relief. She’d acquired the array from an ancient ruins and need not worry about suspicion falling on her. If her master discovered she was the traitor, who knew what wrath might ensue.

A dizzying sense of spinning overtook Zhou Qi. He had no idea how many thousands of miles he’d traveled. He owed his life to Jiang Yiyi—without her, escape would have been impossible. He had underestimated the situation; he never imagined that using the Perfect Foundation Pill would trigger a heavenly tribulation. He’d been struck by lightning for days and gained nothing. Where was the cleansing described in the novels?

A glimmer of light appeared ahead, signaling the teleportation’s end. The light grew brighter, and Zhou Qi was cast out of the teleportation tunnel. Just as he was about to inspect his surroundings, he was dumbfounded by what he saw.

A seductive woman lay upon the bed, her chest half exposed, clothes in disarray. Beside her, a handsome, refined man was undressing. Were they about to consummate?

Both the man and woman were startled by Zhou Qi’s sudden appearance. Zhou Qi quickly clasped his hands in apology. “Forgive me, there was a mishap with the teleportation. Please, continue.” He turned to leave.

“Fellow cultivator, wait!” the man suddenly called.

Zhou Qi paused. “What do you wish to discuss? I assure you I saw nothing of your partner—rest easy.” Perhaps the man was upset Zhou Qi had glimpsed the woman’s body.

“Alas, that shock has robbed me of any further ability,” the man lamented, turning to the woman. “Qiqi, look at this young cultivator—so young and vigorous. Perhaps he should take my place,” he said.

“What?” Zhou Qi was stunned—such fortune? No, this was too chaotic; he couldn’t accept it.

“Since you’re here, why not stay? The two of you can both be my consorts—wouldn’t that be delightful?” The woman laughed coquettishly, her voice soft and alluring.

Zhou Qi was speechless.

“After that fright, I truly have no interest. It would be a shame to spoil Qiqi’s mood.” The man hurriedly declined.

Something was amiss—the man seemed coerced, not at all willing. Zhou Qi shook his ragged hair; after seven days of tribulation, his body was scorched black, resembling someone dragged out of a fire. How could anyone be interested in him?

“Miss, I haven’t bathed in years. I surely reek. I appreciate your kind offer, but I know nothing of such matters and would hate to offend a beauty. This gentleman is handsome and surely only startled—he’ll recover soon, I’m sure. I won’t intrude on your pleasure and will take my leave. Farewell, and may we never meet again!” With that, Zhou Qi used Divine Walk, intent on escaping.

The man was shocked—the problem was returned to him. Zhou Qi vanished, but failed to breach the door, which bounced him back, leaving him sprawled on the floor.

There was a restriction on the door. What was this place? Out of the wolf’s den, into the tiger’s lair.