I Studied Abroad in the Modern Times-Chapter 264Book 2: : Demon Ancestor’s Fortune, Tianhe Orthodoxy
Vol 2 Chapter 264: Demon Ancestor's Fortune, Tianhe Orthodoxy
Inside the Seven Dragons Boundless Sea Grand Formation, Zhenren Chengkong looked worriedly at Head Seat Mingde.
Time ticked by. The golden light around Mingde gradually dimmed. The area it illuminated shrank from several dozen li to just over three li in all directions.
Along with this, Mingde's face changed—from golden to golden.
But the earlier golden hue had been from the Yang Spirit’s innate divine radiance—dignified and dazzling, showing the depth of his Dao.
Now, the golden color came from exhaustion—his divine soul and spiritual energy stretched to the brink, even his Dao body unable to hold out. He looked haggard and powerless.
Zhenren Chengkong opened his mouth, wanting to say something—but couldn't. He wanted to persuade Head Seat Mingde to stop, but Mingde was known for being stubborn.
Besides, what good would it do to persuade him now?
If they didn’t give it their all now, and the Demon Ancestor revived—everyone would die.
All they could do was try to find the Netherworld Immortal’s location and break the formation.
The seven had searched over a hundred li of sea already—but still found no trace of him.
“Huh!”
Suddenly, Mingde let out a choked grunt. Zhenren Chengkong jumped, thinking the Netherworld Immortal had attacked. But turning to look, he realized it was just Mingde nearing collapse—his Yang Spirit's glow was flickering.
Mingde had seemingly squeezed out his last bit of energy. His white hair hung loose, his face purple-gold, his robes drifting wildly like a broken sailboat, directionless and helpless.
“Head Seat?”
Zhenren Chengkong finally spoke.
Mingde waved it off, gazing into the distance and muttering hoarsely:
“Let’s hope… we’re not too late!”
Zhenren Chengkong nodded faintly, also looking toward the Jiushan Sect. Right now, Jiushan was buying time for them. If Jiushan…
“Where are they?!”
The Yaochi Soul Formation cultivator let out a soft exclamation. A rune bloomed at her brow like an eye, gazing toward Jiushan’s direction.
The other six each activated divine sense or spirit sight, trying to see what was happening over there.
The battle fluctuations had vanished!
Even the demon Soul Formation auras had disappeared!
Zhang Wuyi—also nowhere in sight!
Through the grand formation, they couldn’t see what lay beyond mountains and seas, but they all had a suspicion.
Or rather, a reasonable guess.
“Jiushan didn’t hold…” Mingde sighed softly. Looking at the dark waters, his gaze sank even deeper. “Those demons either made landfall—or breached the Jiushan Realm.” ꭆαƝȯΒƐ𝐒
No one spoke, as if silently agreeing.
Zhenren Chengkong wanted to be optimistic, but how else could it be explained?
Did Jiushan really kill four Soul Formation cultivators?
The best-case guess was that Zheng Fa, seeing the enemy too strong, had sealed off the Jiushan Realm for self-preservation.
Mingde sighed again. The golden light on his face faded with the breath. His Yang Spirit returned to the auspicious cloud, and he gripped the half piece of Tranquility Bamboo. Looking at Zhenren Chengkong, he said, “We can’t wait anymore.”
“Head Seat?”
“Qin Mu comes from the Demonic Sect, and he’s extremely cunning. It’s hard to find him while he hides,” Mingde said slowly. “I can only try to activate the Tranquility Bamboo and sweep this whole region. With luck…”
Zhenren Chengkong instantly understood.
He wanted to trigger the Tranquility Bamboo’s self-destruction—or rather, use it in a final all-out attack, hoping to expose or kill Qin Mu.
But doing so would mean sacrificing the bamboo—and probably himself.
And it wasn’t even guaranteed to work. It would’ve been safer to keep searching patiently.
But there was no time for that now.
Zhenren Chengkong nodded silently.
Mingde closed his eyes and began channeling the last of his spiritual energy.
Even the cold-faced Yaochi Soul Formation cultivator looked slightly moved, saddened.
But just then—Xie Qingxue suddenly smiled.
“We won!”
“……”
Zhenren Chengkong froze, then snapped his head around. “Who won?”
“Jiushan!”
“Jiushan killed two Soul Formation cultivators—and captured one!”
“The Seven Great Sages turned as well, and killed the last Demonic Sect Soul Formation cultivator!”
“The Great Freedom Demon Ancestor has no chance of revival!”
Zhenren Chengkong was overjoyed. He laughed out loud, shouting, “Jiushan! Ha! Zheng Fa!”
“Oh no! The Head Seat!”
“I heard it…” Mingde’s voice was faint, his face flushed red—unclear if from injury or frustration. “Fairy Xie, is this true?”
Xie Qingxue nodded firmly. “This was reported by disciples inside the Jiushan Realm.”
“Inside the Jiushan Realm? How do you know?”
“Ahem, Junior Brother Yan is in there—I have a way to contact him.”
Mingde nodded slightly, looking down at the Tranquility Bamboo in his hand with visible heartache.
He had just been about to sacrifice himself to break the formation—and upon hearing Xie Qingxue’s words, forced himself to stop mid-spell.
He didn’t die—but he was gravely injured.
And the Tranquility Bamboo?
He had already begun activating it…
There was no stopping it now!
The bamboo turned into a streak of azure-gold light, sweeping through hundreds of li of sea.
When the light faded—there was no trace of the Netherworld Immortal.
Nor… the Tranquility Bamboo.
“Shattered?”
“Mm…”
Mingde looked at Xie Qingxue, visibly frustrated. He didn’t even need to speak—everyone knew what he was thinking: You could’ve said so earlier!
“I just saw the post…”
Xie Qingxue looked slightly embarrassed.
Earlier, when no news came from Jiushan, she’d quietly checked her Tongjian, hoping for updates from the forum.
But the disciples posted late—not right away—and by the time she saw it, Mingde had already gone all in.
Mingde shook his head—he couldn’t really blame her.
The auspicious cloud above him spun once. In an instant, his tattered robes straightened, his disheveled hair smoothed down.
He was once again the composed, solemn figure from before.
The seven glanced at each other—then smiled.
Mingde laughed, “Everyone, this Seven Dragons Boundless Sea Grand Formation is of ancient origin, truly mysterious. Now that we’ve encountered it, we should take the chance to study it properly.”
Zhenren Chengkong and the others nodded with a smile.
Looking at the dark sea floor again, their hearts now light, they strolled casually, even critiquing the formation’s strengths and limitations.
Xie Qingxue even reached out and snipped off a beautiful clump of red coral, seemingly to take home as decoration—completely relaxed, the earlier tension gone.
They were in no rush now. The formation had little offensive power.
And the Netherworld Immortal—he couldn’t escape!
After Jiushan’s miraculous turnaround, it wasn’t the seven of them who were trapped anymore…
It was the formation’s caster—the Netherworld Immortal.
As they walked, they even talked loudly about Jiushan, making sure Qin Mu heard the good news.
“What do you think Qin Mu’s still waiting for?”
“…No idea.”
Zhenren Chengkong felt a bit sorry for him. He couldn’t leave, and hiding would only delay the inevitable…
“Jiushan again!”
Suddenly, the Netherworld Immortal’s voice echoed in the formation. “Heaven forsakes me!”
The surrounding sea raged. Seven beams of light dimmed, and the bronze pillars within them trembled—then shattered into flying dust.
The endless sea slowly receded. After a long absence, sunlight poured down from above.
The sea grew calm, the spiritual energy turbulence gone.
“The formation’s broken…”
Mingde paused, then said softly.
Zhenren Chengkong nodded, looking up at the sun. He didn’t search for the Netherworld Immortal.
No need. The formation had collapsed—the Netherworld Immortal was dead.
“Took his own life… huh.” Mingde let out a quiet laugh. “That disciple of mine was always relentless. Even the Taishang Dao once cornered him—and he never gave up.”
“But this time, he had no choice,” the Yaochi Soul Formation cultivator said softly. “The Seven Dragons Boundless Sea Grand Formation—there’s no leaving it alive.”
Zhenren Chengkong, however, had another thought—
Getting outwitted by Zheng Fa three times—even without the formation, suicide was almost inevitable.
But he said nothing. Just looked at Mingde, who was staring out at the sea, lips tight, expression dazed.
After a while, Mingde sighed blandly, “Forget it. That ungrateful disciple is gone. I suppose I’ve cleansed my sect.”
He didn’t seem to know what else to say—just silently flew toward shore.
The other six exchanged glances, also wordless, and left the sea together.
Moments later, two figures slowly appeared—Chen Ting and his Senior Sister.
They had apparently stood there the whole time, yet not one of the seven Soul Formation cultivators had noticed them!
Chen Ting stood aside as his Senior Sister pulled out a talisman.
The talisman was pitch black, as if made of dark cloth. The symbols on it were extremely complex—just one glance made him dizzy.
“This is…”
“The Nine Nether Edict.”
She nodded solemnly. Her lips moved softly, chanting a spell. The talisman’s runes lit up with a brilliant black glow, casting a shadowy gloom over the sea.
From within the water, a soul-like wraith slowly emerged.
It was the Netherworld Immortal.
His eyes were blank at first. He looked around dazedly—until he saw the familiar sea and the two before him. Then his gaze turned sharply alert.
“Who are you?”
Chen Ting didn’t speak. His Senior Sister stepped forward gracefully and saluted:
“Disciples of the Nine Nether Sect—Shi Linglong and Chen Ting—greetings, Zhenren.”
The Netherworld Immortal’s gaze grew colder. He looked at Shi Linglong, narrowed his eyes, and said, “Shi Linglong? You mean Corpse Linglong.”
“A Nine Yin Dao Body, achieving the Dao through corpse cultivation, Nascent Soul stage—a notable figure.”
Shi Linglong’s expression didn’t change. She didn’t seem surprised that her true identity had been seen through. She simply smiled and said, “Zhenren has sharp eyes.”
“You helped the Immortal Sect in secret? Killed Soul Formation cultivators of our Holy Sect?”
Qin Mu sounded impatient, frowning—clearly still resentful over the fate of those four demon Soul Formation cultivators.
Shi Linglong gave a bitter smile and said, “With our level of strength, how would we dare meddle in Soul Formation matters?”
Qin Mu nodded, neither confirming nor denying belief, but continued, “Then why did you block my return to the Blood Sea?”
Shi Linglong smiled. “Zhenren, may I ask—do you want to die or live?”
Qin Mu looked at her, face frosty, a hint of hostility in his eyes. Shi Linglong lowered her head and said, “Forgive my rudeness. Zhenren must recognize this Nine Nether Edict? With this, you can return to the living without needing to fall back into the Blood Sea.”
“You want me to pledge loyalty to the Nine Nether Demon Ancestor?”
“Does Zhenren truly wish to die and have your Dao erased?”
“If I return to the Blood Sea, I’ll revive eventually!”
“…Zhenren, please don’t deceive me. The Great Freedom Demonic Sect—do they even have half a Soul Formation cultivator left? The Demon Ancestor himself is hard-pressed to descend into the mortal realm. How would he have the power to revive you?”
“……”
“Besides, even if he could revive you—Zhenren, as an outsider and junior, how long would you have to wait? And even if revived, wouldn’t years be wasted? What chances of achieving the Dao would you have left?”
“Right now, the Great Freedom Demon Ancestor has no one under him. Zhenren is constantly shackled within the sect—why not join us, the Nine Nether Sect?”
Qin Mu’s soul wavered slightly, as if in deep thought. After a long pause, he sneered, “If the Great Freedom Demonic Sect is so bad, how is your Nine Nether Sect any better?”
At that moment, Chen Ting finally spoke. “Zhenren, do you know where I come from?”
“Where?”
“The Jiushan Sect.”
Qin Mu’s face instantly darkened.
“Later, like you, I betrayed Jiushan and joined the Great Freedom Demonic Sect. And now I’ve joined the Nine Nether Sacred Sect,” Chen Ting quickly added. “I can tell you—the Nine Nether Sacred Ancestor doesn’t care about background. He rewards merit, punishes wrongs fairly.”
“And unlike the Great Freedom Sect—bloodlines don’t reign supreme.”
Hearing that, Qin Mu’s expression shifted slightly.
He had never been trusted within the Great Freedom Sect—constantly sidelined, mostly due to his background. Even after cultivating demonic techniques and acquiring the Demon Ancestor’s bloodline, he was still seen as an outsider.
“How can I trust you?”
“This Nine Nether Edict is a supreme treasure in the sect. If the Sacred Ancestor didn’t value Zhenren, we’d never be allowed to use it,” Shi Linglong explained. “Zhenren is smart. Our sect paid a high price…”
“Pardon my bluntness, but if we were going to harm you—using the edict would be a waste.”
Qin Mu didn’t get angry. In fact, he seemed like he’d suspected this all along. He nodded. “The Nine Nether Demon Ancestor… plans to move against the Holy Ancestor?”
“……”
Shi Linglong smiled but said nothing. Qin Mu understood the answer.
“So… you want me to betray the Holy Ancestor again?”
Chen Ting laughed. “Zhenren misunderstands. The Sacred Ancestor instructed us—once you’re revived, we are to help bring the Great Freedom Demon Ancestor to the mortal realm!”
Even the calm Qin Mu couldn’t help but widen his eyes.
“Us two?”
“Yes. Among the Great Freedom’s surviving members, only you and I are left who can summon the Ancestor!” Chen Ting said. “The Demon Ancestor has long wanted to descend to Xuanyi. Even in the Nine Nether Sect, we still strive for him!”
“How is that betrayal? Who could be more loyal than us?”
Qin Mu was at a loss for words.
“Zhenren, think about it—at this point, the Demon Ancestor has only us to rely on.”
That one line made Qin Mu’s soul tremble again.
He, originally from Taishang Dao, had joined the Great Freedom Demonic Sect, and now was considering switching to the Nine Nether Demon Ancestor.
Chen Ting, a mere Golden Core, once from Jiushan, had joined the Great Freedom Demonic Sect—and was already firmly under the Nine Nether Sect.
Now, the Holy Ancestor could only rely on two triple-traitor flunkies…
What a blessing.
…
Yan Wushuang was also struggling—
Struggling with whether he should become a traitor too!
In the lab, he stared wide-eyed at Zheng Fa and the others, trembling as he spoke:
“T-Tianhe Sword Dao?”
“One Sword Spawns Myriad Techniques?”
“Sword Qi Thunder Sound? Sword Qi Forms Rainbows? Refining Sword into Silk?”
He looked pleadingly at Zheng Fa, like he couldn’t believe his ears—or maybe just wanted confirmation he hadn’t misheard.
But Zheng Fa nodded.
When he didn’t respond, Zheng Fa explained, “The inspiration came from the encrypted booklet you gave me. Honestly, my focus was more on researching the Nine-Turn Golden Core.”
“…I wrote that booklet. You think I don’t know what’s in it?” Yan Wushuang’s face twisted painfully. He muttered, “There’s no Tianhe Sword Dao in it.”
“How do I not know that?”
Zheng Fa shook his head gently. “Exactly why we need your help.”
“Help?”
Yan Wushuang felt like he couldn’t take this anymore—but couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Help with what?”
Since he’d already brought it up, Zheng Fa no longer hid it. He waved Yan Wushuang over and pointed to the Thunder Resonance Stone before them. “Look at this.”
Yan Wushuang looked at the stone. It looked ordinary—but inside, a low, muffled rumble echoed. It was like the sound of heavenly thunder, shaking his divine soul and repelling all evil.
“What about it?”
He blinked, confused. He’d seen Thunder Resonance Stones before.
“We’ve observed that its core principle lies in the rapid motion and collisions of spirit-material particles inside. This produces massive heat, which agitates the air and creates the thunder sound.”
Yan Wushuang was baffled. He’d studied in the Jiushan Realm, and had some vague idea about particles and heat—but couldn’t grasp how this related to the Tianhe Sword Dao.
“What I mean is—could Sword Qi Thunder Sound be related to this?”
“……”
Yan Wushuang stared. He looked at the broadsword in his hand, then at the Thunder Resonance Stone.
How could these two things possibly be the same?
Zheng Fa watched him—he wasn’t entirely confident either. Their research into the Tianhe Sword Dao—or rather, the Nine-Turn Golden Core Method—hadn’t been smooth.
Take the Thunder Resonance Stone, for instance. After scanning it with Five-Element Divine Light, Zheng Fa was fairly sure it contained both Fire and Metal Sub-Talismans bonded with certain atomic structures.
These talismans caused the spirit-material particles to repeatedly combine and split, moving violently, generating thunder sounds.
But the problem was… thunder sounds were ultimately just acoustic phenomena—and there could be many causes.
If we’re only talking about Sword Qi Thunder Sound, then maybe it’s just some kind of thunder technique—or maybe the Tianhe Sect’s sword techniques are simply that strong, and the flying sword so fast that it creates a piercing sword whistle.
That’s where the problem lies:
How do they determine whether this has the same principle as the Tianhe Sword Dao?
Another issue stands out—
Even assuming all their guesses are correct, Zheng Fa still doesn’t know how to combine multiple Sub-Talismans with a single atom.
Simply put, they were missing too much knowledge in this field—it was like blind men feeling out an elephant.
They still had to ask someone from the Tianhe Sect.
And the best candidate was—Yan Wushuang!
“You want me to help you research the Tianhe Sword Dao?”
Yan Wushuang took two deep breaths and asked slowly, word by word.
His expression showed resistance. Zheng Fa added, “I can promise—we’ll avoid requiring you to reveal any secret techniques from your sect.”
This wasn’t said just to appease Yan Wushuang—it was something Zheng Fa had long considered.
Because of the message left by the Tianhe Venerable, he didn’t dare directly research the authentic Tianhe Sword Dao. So in fact, he didn’t really want to rely on Tianhe’s internal techniques.
The most optimistic scenario was to develop a Jiushan version of the Tianhe Sword Dao.
Zheng Fa wasn’t even that fixated on the sword techniques themselves—but the Nine-Turn Golden Core Method… that intrigued him.
“So what do you want me to do?”
Yan Wushuang was a little confused.
He had previously suspected that Zheng Fa just wanted to steal Tianhe techniques. A bunch of people talking about “studying the Tianhe Sword Dao” in front of the Tianhe Sect Master’s son?
Hard to trust, wasn’t it?
It all seemed like a ploy to snatch the Tianhe inheritance.
But Zheng Fa’s expression looked… like he was almost uninterested in Tianhe’s techniques…
“There are two areas where you might be able to help.”
Zheng Fa said directly, “First—have you learned Sword Qi Thunder Sound, or Sword Qi Forms a Rainbow?”
“Sword Qi Forms a Rainbow…” Yan Wushuang thought for a bit, then said, “It’s a technique all Tianhe core disciples learn after Golden Core stage.”
“As for Sword Qi Thunder Sound—it’s actually simpler. I’ve been good with thunder techniques, so I learned it during Foundation Establishment.”
“What about the others? Like Sword Splitting into Myriad, Refining Sword into Silk?”
Yan Wushuang looked a little frustrated. He shook his head. “Those two techniques… are lost within the sect.”
“Then, Brother Yan, I hope you can help with two things.”
Zheng Fa continued, “First—demonstrate Sword Qi Thunder Sound and Sword Qi Forms a Rainbow for observation.”
Yan Wushuang nodded lightly, seeming a little more at ease. “That’s simple.”
“Second—let me scan your sword.”
Yan Wushuang blinked, looking at Zheng Fa—who nodded at him and said, “That’s the most important part.”
The Tianhe Venerable’s techniques centered around life-bound treasures. If there was any secret to the Tianhe Sword Dao, it had to be in those life-bound flying swords.
The only Tianhe flying sword Zheng Fa had a shot at examining was Yan Wushuang’s—or Elder Han’s.
But Elder Han had been keeping his distance to avoid suspicion and hadn’t visited Jiushan. Yan Wushuang was the obvious choice.
Besides, judging by that little encrypted booklet, Yan Wushuang trusted him enough.
Yan Wushuang fell silent, visibly conflicted. On one hand, as a disciple of Tianhe, he took pride in that lineage—he even wished to set things right within the sect.
He naturally didn’t want outsiders reverse-engineering the sect’s secret arts.
Even with Zheng Fa, the idea left a sour taste.
Information was one thing. Cultivation techniques were another.
On the other hand, a life-bound spiritual treasure was extremely personal—another layer of taboo.
Seeing his hesitation, the Ancestor of the Blood River lost patience.
“What are you afraid of?” he said.
“……”
Yan Wushuang looked up, confused.
“Does your Tianhe Sect still have a complete Tianhe Sword Dao?”
“No.”
“Then what you should be afraid of—is Zheng Fa figuring it out without you…” the Ancestor let out a weird laugh. “When that happens, the true Tianhe orthodoxy will reside in the Jiushan Realm!”
Yan Wushuang’s expression wavered. The Ancestor continued:
“Don’t believe me? Think about it—who originally owned the Tranquility Bamboo? And where is the complete Tranquility Bamboo now?”
“If you think recreating the Tianhe Sword Dao is harder than raising a Tranquility Bamboo, you’re delusional.”
“You want your Tianhe Sect to become the next Taishang Dao?”
Yan Wushuang’s face turned pale, then flushed. The Ancestor’s next words were delivered almost tenderly:
“You think Zheng Fa wants your sect’s techniques? No—he’s giving you a chance to learn the Tianhe Sword Dao…”
He looked at Zheng Fa, and—shockingly—there was genuine gratitude on his face.
Zheng Fa glanced at the Ancestor of the Blood River.
This guy’s persuasion skills? Even Soul Formation cultivators can’t handle him!
