279: Chapter 279 Qing Yanjing's Strength

The echo of Budu Xuan's words, "Mother and son are equally guilty," still reverberated across the plaza in front of the hall, but Qing Yanjing had already stepped over the threshold of the Forbidden Hall.

Her moon-white dress billowed in the night wind, and the golden, vine-shaped headpiece gleamed faintly under the cold light of the spirit crystals. She did not walk quickly, yet every step seemed to land heavily upon the heartbeats of everyone present. Having been imprisoned for over a decade, she had grown much thinner, but as she stepped onto the white jade flagstones of the plaza, the dignity belonging to an Elder of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan suddenly spread its wings like a sleeping phoenix, forcing the dozens of Heavenly Supreme elders opposite her to take a step back in unison.

Budu Xuan did not retreat. He stood at the very front of the Elder Council's formation with his hands behind his back, his silver hair and white beard fluttering slightly in the night breeze. His gaze, directed at Qing Yanjing, remained cold and arrogant. More than a decade ago, he had personally escorted this woman into the Forbidden Hall; she should have been kneeling before him in repentance back then. Yet today, she dared to step over that threshold with her back straight, and she even dared to look at him with that expression—an expression of utter lack of retreat or fear, and one that even carried a hint of condescension.

"Qing Yanjing." Budu Xuan's voice was hoarse and gloomy, like two rough bone fragments rubbing against each other. "More than a decade ago, considering you were once a Divine Maiden, I spared your life. Now that you indulge that bastard to run wild in the ancestral grounds, do you truly think I dare not kill you?"

Qing Yanjing did not answer. She merely tilted her head slightly, her gaze passing over Budu Xuan to land on two figures at the very front of the Elder Council's formation. Both were peak Spirit Grade Heavenly Supremes, Budu Xuan's right-hand men, and the main forces who had participated in her imprisonment back then—one was the Head of the Law Enforcement Hall, Budu Yan, and the other was the Head of the Punitive Hall, Budu Tie. The two were staring at her intently, their weapons already drawn three inches from their scabbards.

"The two of you were also present when I was escorted into the Forbidden Hall back then." Qing Yanjing spoke, her voice very soft, as if she were talking about an insignificant past event. "I remember you saying at the time that the sinner Qing Yanjing was forbidden from stepping out of the Forbidden Hall for all eternity. Now that I have come out, how do you intend to punish me?"

Budu Yan's expression changed, and he snapped: "Qing Yanjing, you still dare to mention that time! You colluded with an outsider and tainted the bloodline of the Divine Maiden. The Great Elder sparing your life was already an act of mercy—"

He did not finish his sentence. Qing Yanjing's figure vanished from where she stood. It was not an afterimage, nor was it teleportation; it was pure, overwhelming speed. Among the dozens of Heavenly Supremes present, only Budu Xuan could barely capture her trajectory. Budu Yan and Budu Tie simultaneously felt a pressure as vast as a sea of stars crashing down from above their heads—it was not spiritual energy, nor was it law, but the unreserved pressure of a mid-stage Saint-Rank Heavenly Sovereign, descending like an invisible, colossal tower.

Qing Yanjing appeared directly above the two men. Her long, fair fingers tapped the void several times, each tap precisely hitting the weak points in their protective spiritual energy. Where her fingertips landed, dozens of Saint-Rank spirit runes spontaneously emerged in the air. Those spirit runes were not something she had drawn on the spot—they were something she had laid down with her spiritual sense the moment she stepped out of the hall door. A Grandmaster of Saint-Rank Spirit Arrays does not need to form seals, nor does she need an array disc; a single thought can turn the entire space into her killing array. Beneath Budu Yan and Budu Tie's feet, dense golden spirit runes lit up simultaneously, climbing up their legs like chains, pinning the two firmly in place. Subsequently, the spiritual energy in the array abruptly converged into two golden spears of light, piercing through their protective spiritual energy from below. The two men spat out blood violently and were sent flying backward, smashing into two stone statues at the edge of the plaza and becoming embedded in the rubble, their lives hanging in the balance.

The entire scene fell into dead silence.

Qing Yanjing landed lightly back in her original spot, the hem of her moon-white dress not even stained by a single drop of blood. She raised her hand to tuck away a strand of hair that had been scattered by the night wind, and her phoenix eyes turned toward Budu Xuan. Her voice remained soft, yet it sent a chill down the spines of everyone present: "Now, is there anyone else who wants to stop me?"

Within the Elder Council's formation, someone instinctively took another half-step back. Budu Xuan's expression was so gloomy that it could drip water. He knew that Qing Yanjing was a mid-stage Saint-Rank Heavenly Sovereign, but he had always assumed that over a decade of sealing would have severely damaged her vitality. Yet, her strike at this moment was even sharper and more decisive than it had been a decade ago. In those eyes, there was not a shred of the listlessness of someone long imprisoned, only the sharp edge of something that had been suppressed for too long and had finally found an outlet.

"Mother." Mu Chen called out softly behind her.

Qing Yanjing turned her head to look at him, her gaze softening slightly the moment it touched her son, but when she turned back to face the Elder Council, it became cold as frost once more. She did not look back, but simply placed one hand behind her back, palm facing upward. Mu Chen looked at that long, fair hand, remembering how, when he was a child in the Northern Spiritual Realm, his mother would hold his hand just like this as they walked through the bustling crowds at the market. He reached out and took it, gripping it tightly.

"Chen'er, follow behind Mother." Qing Yanjing's voice was calm and resolute, as if she were speaking of the most ordinary thing. "Whoever stops us today will end up lying down."

She held Mu Chen's hand and stepped forward toward the Elder Council. Her pace was unhurried, yet every step landed on the same beat, like a drawn sword inching closer to an enemy's throat. The formation composed of dozens of Heavenly Supreme elders opposite her unconsciously split open a gap before her advancing steps—no one dared to be the first to attack, because Budu Yan and Budu Tie were still lying in the rubble, the wounds piercing their chests still bubbling with golden blood.

The mother and son passed side by side through the Elder Council's formation, and no one dared to stop them. Qing Yanjing's white dress and Mu Chen's dark black martial attire billowed together in the night wind. Following behind them were Chief Elder Qing Yanshan and dozens of Qing Branch disciples. Those Qing Branch disciples who had been detained on the ground had been released at some unknown moment, and they wiped the blood from the corners of their mouths to silently follow the queue. No one spoke, but everyone's footsteps were exceptionally firm.

The main hall of the Elder Council had its doors tightly shut.

Qing Yanjing raised her hand and gently pressed her five fingers into the air. The spiritual sense of a Grandmaster of Saint-Rank Spirit Arrays spread out like mercury pouring onto the ground. The seventeen layers of spirit array restrictions superimposed on the hall doors crumbled layer by layer before her fingertips, and the fragments of spirit runes scattered across the sky like glazed glass. She did not even need to form seals; she simply tapped and shattered the spiritual energy nodes of those restrictions one by one—most of these restrictions had been set by her own hand back then. Trying to stop her with them now was no different than using her own chains to lock her hands. It took less than three breaths for all seventeen restrictions to shatter completely.

The hall doors swung open with a boom. Qing Yanjing held Mu Chen's hand and stepped into the main hall of the Elder Council, with the Qing Branch members following closely behind. Three hundred and sixty holy spirit crystals were embedded in the dome of the Elder Council, and their milky-white light illuminated the entire hall as if it were day. Thirty-six obsidian chairs were arranged in an arc, and the highest seat in the center belonged to Budu Xuan. On the four walls hung portraits of the ancestors of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan, and pairs of aged eyes, long turned to dust, silently watched this mother and son who were defying the entire Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan.

Qing Yanjing walked to the center of the main hall and stood still, while Mu Chen stood by her side, holding his sword. She looked up and swept her gaze over the ancestral portraits on the four walls, a trace of faint mockery appearing at the corner of her mouth.

"Respected ancestors above, your unworthy descendant Qing Yanjing—has returned." She spoke, her voice not loud, yet it reached the ears of every elder present clearly. "Back then, you said I colluded with an outsider, said I tainted the bloodline of the Divine Maiden, and said I was unworthy of being an Elder of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan. For these past ten-plus years, I have been thinking—what kind of crime is colluding with an outsider? I met a man in the Northern Spiritual Realm; he was not of the Floating Pagoda Clan, but he was upright, kind, and willing to die to protect his wife and child. In what way was he inferior to you noble Floating Pagoda Clan bloodlines? Every day I was imprisoned here, I was waiting for an opportunity—waiting for my son to grow up, waiting for him to come and take me away, and also waiting for an opportunity to say what needed to be said in front of the ancestors."

She paused, her phoenix eyes sweeping across the ancestral portraits on the four walls one by one, before finally landing on the empty Great Elder's seat directly in front. "As for the position of Elder—you took it from my hands over a decade ago, thinking that I would care for it? The Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan imprisoned me for over a decade; this status was never an honor to me, but a shackle."

"Enough." An aged and majestic voice came from the depths of the main hall.

Budu Xuan walked slowly out from the back hall. He did not bring any attendants, stepping alone onto the obsidian steps in the center of the hall, each step as heavy as a mountain. The pressure of a mid-stage Saint-Rank Heavenly Sovereign spread out unreservedly, colliding with Qing Yanjing's aura in the hall with a boom. The moment the two Saint-Rank level pressures collided, the entire Elder Council trembled violently, the three hundred and sixty holy spirit crystals on the dome flashed in unison, and the two forces whipped up a visible vortex of air waves within the hall.

"Qing Yanjing, what exactly do you want?" Budu Xuan stood still ten zhang in front of her. His silver hair and white beard were whipped around by the air currents. His cloudy yet still sharp eyes stared fixedly at her. "First, your son caused a scene, and now you have injured two elders and dismantled the restrictions of the Elder Hall—do you think this is enough?"

"I want to take Chen'er away." Qing Yanjing looked at him calmly, her tone as if she were stating something perfectly natural. "From now on, my son and I will have nothing more to do with the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan."

"Delusional." Budu Xuan sneered. "Your bloodline belongs to the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan, and his bloodline belongs to the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan as well. You were born as members of the Floating Pagoda Clan, and in death, you will be ghosts of the Floating Pagoda Clan. You want to leave? Ask me if I agree first."

He raised his hand, his withered fingers clenching suddenly in the void. A streak of dark golden spiritual energy surged from his palm, transforming into a giant sword of golden light dozens of zhang long, carrying the full-force strike of a mid-stage Saint-Rank Heavenly Sovereign as it slashed toward Qing Yanjing. Wherever the golden sword passed, space collapsed inch by inch; the frames of the ancestral portraits on the four walls shattered simultaneously, and the obsidian floor was pressed into a bottomless crack by the sword's momentum.

Qing Yanjing's expression did not change. She let go of Mu Chen's hand and formed hand seals before her chest. The spiritual sense of a Saint-Rank Spirit Array Grandmaster erupted at this moment—the space within a hundred-zhang radius around her lit up simultaneously with dense golden spirit runes, every single one of which she had secretly laid down while talking to Budu Xuan. Dozens of Saint-Rank spirit arrays activated at once, layers upon layers of array barriers overlapping and intertwining before her, forcibly halting Budu Xuan's golden giant sword, which was capable of severing stars, in mid-air. As the giant sword shattered one spirit array, a new one would generate; dozens of spirit arrays were slashed through and reconstructed one by one, with the exploding fragments of spirit runes scattering across the sky like a golden blizzard. When the last spirit array collapsed, the golden giant sword also dissipated from exhaustion—Budu Xuan's full-force strike had been directly neutralized by Qing Yanjing's array power, and she herself had not moved a single inch.

A flash of shock crossed Budu Xuan's eyes. When he had personally sealed Qing Yanjing over a decade ago, her attainments in spirit arrays had not reached this level. The dozen-plus years of imprisonment had not only failed to wear down her strength but had instead allowed her to advance even further in her array techniques.

"So you have been secretly cultivating all these years." Budu Xuan's voice was low and sinister.

Qing Yanjing did not answer. She raised her right hand and lightly traced her fingers through the air. Dozens of golden spirit runes flew out from her fingertips like swimming fish, rapidly weaving into a trapping-and-killing array around Budu Xuan. Budu Xuan snorted coldly and stomped the ground, shattering it, as his figure shot into the sky, breaking through the edge of the trapping-and-killing array—but his sleeve was still sliced open by the spirit runes, leaving a long, thin tear. He looked down at the tear, his expression turning completely grim. In the ancestral lands of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan, in his own Elder Hall, first the restrictions had been dismantled, and now his robe had been slashed—he had endured for too long.

The two clashed again, and the entire Elder Hall teetered on the verge of collapse. Mu Chen stood with his sword, blocking in front of the members of the Qing Branch, the golden light of the heavenly emperor sword dispersing the aftermath of the Saint-Rank battle that swept toward them one by one. He looked up at the moon-white figure in mid-air, clashing head-on with Budu Xuan, and suddenly felt that his mother was even more powerful, prouder, and more like a silent volcano than he had imagined, finally erupting after being suppressed for over a decade.

The dome of the great hall was shattered, and three hundred and sixty Holy Spirit Crystals fell like rain. The two figures collided in mid-air, erupting with a brilliance comparable to a supernova, illuminating the entire Elder Hall as if it were broad daylight. The aftermath struck the structure of the hall one wave after another; the obsidian pillars were shaken with dense cracks, and the white jade floor was ripped up in large chunks. This battle was a draw—Budu Xuan could not crush Qing Yanjing, and Qing Yanjing could not defeat Budu Xuan in a short time.

When the two separated again, Budu Xuan landed on the obsidian steps, the stone steps within a few zhang of his feet already crushed into powder. His breathing was slightly rapid, a small section of his beard had been shorn off by the aftermath of the spirit arrays, and the sleeve of his right arm had been sliced open in more than one place. Qing Yanjing landed back in front of Mu Chen; there were several scorch marks on her moon-white dress, and her face was several shades paler than before—after all, her seal had not been completely undone, and this battle had consumed a great deal of energy.

"Qing Yanjing." Budu Xuan's voice suddenly became calm, so calm that everyone present felt a chill run down their spines. "Do you know why I am not continuing to tangle with you?"

Qing Yanjing did not speak, only placing one hand behind her back, gently clenching her palm toward Mu Chen's direction to signal him not to come forward.

Budu Xuan slowly raised his right arm. Deep in the rear hall of the Elder Hall, an ancient aura that had been silent for who knows how many tens of thousands of years suddenly awakened. It was a deep, heavy humming, as if some colossal beast had turned over deep underground, and the entire Futu Realm trembled violently in that humming. The spirit arrays on the seventy-two floating islands lit up simultaneously, and all the clansmen of the Floating Pagoda Clan looked up toward the direction of the Ancestral Tower, their eyes filled with unconcealable awe—that was the aura of the Ancestral Tower, the clan-protecting sacred object of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan, the crystallization of the will of generations of ancestors.

"In the name of the current Great Elder of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan, I summon the Ancestral Tower. Suppress the traitor, cleanse the clan." Budu Xuan's voice echoed in the hall, every word like a heavy hammer striking the souls of everyone present.

The shadow of the Ancestral Tower descended from the sky, enveloping the entire Elder Hall. It was an ancient giant tower of unknown height, its body carved with the names of all the ancestors of the Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan over tens of thousands of years, every name being the remnant of a Saint-Rank will. Countless golden beams of light shone down from all sides of the tower, locking down the entire plaza. Wherever the pressure reached, those with cultivation below Heavenly Supreme fell to their knees, unable to stand, and even breathing became difficult.

Qing Yanjing stood where she was, her moon-white dress pressed tightly against her body by the pressure of the Ancestral Tower, her golden branch-shaped hair accessory trembling violently in the golden light. But she still kept her back straight, her phoenix eyes looking up at the ancient giant tower that had suppressed her clan for tens of thousands of years; there was solemnity and anger in her eyes, but not a shred of fear. She had not obtained the recognition of the Ancestral Tower and could not control it. But she knew the source of the Ancestral Tower's power—every Saint-Rank will possessed its own judgment. It was not Budu Xuan's private tool; it was the crystallization of the will of all the ancestors of the entire Ancient Floating Pagoda Clan. If there were still sensible people among these ancestors—those who refused to be coerced by the will of Budu Xuan alone—then the Ancestral Tower could not completely suppress her.

"Ancestral Tower." She looked up and spoke to that ancient giant tower, her voice not loud, but clearly penetrating all the spirit arrays and golden light. "Qing Yanjing, though unworthy, once swore an oath before the ancestors of generations to protect the Floating Pagoda lineage. Now, someone is covering the sky with one hand, twisting right and wrong, imprisoning a Supreme Elder in the Forbidden Hall, and killing the son of the Holy Maiden in the ancestral lands—is this truly cleansing the clan, or is it coercing the ancestors' will for one's own selfish desires? May the spirits of the ancestors in heaven be clear, please look closely—is the one to be suppressed today truly a traitor?"

The golden light of the Ancestral Tower flickered suddenly the moment her voice fell. Budu Xuan's expression changed slightly. The Ancestral Tower was hesitating—it was actually hesitating. For the first time, the will of the ancestors of generations wavered between him, the current Great Elder, and Qing Yanjing, the Supreme Elder who had been imprisoned for over a decade. This hesitation lasted only a fleeting moment, but that moment was enough for a crack to appear in the pressure of the Ancestral Tower. Qing Yanjing seized the opportunity to grab Mu Chen's wrist, retreating from the main hall of the Elder Hall and landing in the center of the plaza.

Budu Xuan's expression was dark to the extreme. He would no longer give Qing Yanjing a second chance to speak with the Ancestral Tower; he formed hand seals, pushing the power of the Ancestral Tower to its limit. That ancient will, which had been silent for who knows how many tens of thousands of years, was finally completely awakened, and golden light, even more ferocious than before, poured down from all sides of the tower, turning the entire plaza into a golden furnace. The Saint-Rank spirit arrays around Qing Yanjing shattered layer by layer under the pressure of the Ancestral Tower; her figure remained straight in the golden light, but Mu Chen could feel his mother's hand, which was holding his, trembling slightly.

"Budu Xuan, you use the coffin boards of our ancestors as a weapon; be careful that in the middle of the night, you dream of being surrounded by the ancestors at your bedside, cursing you as an unfilial descendant." Qing Yanjing suddenly spoke, her voice not loud, but clearly heard by everyone present.

Budu Xuan's face turned livid, and his movements in driving the Ancestral Tower paused for a fleeting instant.

The corners of Qing Yanjing's mouth curved slightly. Her phoenix eyes were stunningly bright in the golden light of the Ancestral Tower, with no hint of fear on her face, only a faint mockery after seeing through her opponent. She was never gentle—gentleness was reserved for her family; for people like Budu Xuan, she would only use the sharpest words to pierce his most painful spots.