Within the Rakshasa inheritance space, the violet-black mist swirled fiercely; on the enormous demon scythe's blade, an eerie light flickered, casting a chilling, suffocating aura.
"You… you didn't provoke Chen Yi, right?!"
No longer hoarse and low, the Rakshasa God's voice erupted, trembling with disbelief, shock, and mounting anger. His divine consciousness, like invisible chains, latched tightly onto Bibi Dong, desperately seeking the truth from her every tiny reaction.
Suddenly enveloped by such abrupt questioning and an oppressive dread, Bibi Dong frowned, soul power circulating within her, resisting the pressure rising from the depths. She took a deep breath, as if suppressing her emotions, and replied coldly, "I didn't provoke him. He provoked me."
"What do you mean?" the Rakshasa God asked, his voice low. All the information gleaned from his scouting in the Divine Realm suggested that Chen Yi, though unorthodox and unique in his ways, was not the sort to cause trouble intentionally. In fact, he was mostly gentle and, if anything, rather domestic. Why would he, for no reason, antagonize the Supreme Pontiff of the Spirit Hall, who was his own potential ally?
Bibi Dong pressed her lips hard together, eyes clouded with silence. But the pressure from the Rakshasa God only mounted until she could no longer withstand it, and began to recount in detail how Chen Yi belittled Yu Xiaogang's theories, gravely injured Yu Xiaogang himself, and how the Body Sect poached her capable subordinates.
After listening, the Rakshasa God—his true form hidden in the farthest reaches of the Divine Realm—suddenly felt enveloped by darkness, nearly losing control of his divine power with rage.
Time and again, he had cleared the path for Bibi Dong, intervened secretly against the Asura God for her sake, sent projections to survey the lower realms—all to reassure himself that, if and when he retired to explore the stars, Bibi Dong, his disciple, would have the strong protection of a powerful ally.
And what was the result? Despite all his caution and cunning, his chosen successor had dug a massive pit for herself! Not only had she failed to win the favor of those in power, she had actually provoked their anger.
"Bibi Dong!" The Rakshasa God's voice rose sharply. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?! This is a once-in-a-millennium opportunity—one that countless gods would risk their lives for. And you… you're about to ruin it!"
Ah!
He finally understood what Bibi Dong meant by "the Spirit Hall and the Body Sect are in cooperation": it was her rival, the Spirit Hall, working with the Body Sect, with nothing to do at all with herself, the powerless Supreme Pontiff.
At that moment, remorse crashed over the Rakshasa God. He bitterly regretted ever snatching Bibi Dong from the Asura God—who, though talented on the surface, was deeply handicapped by lovesickness. If only he had investigated other planes more thoroughly, found a more calm and rational candidate!
But it was too late. To remove Bibi Dong from consideration as Asura's candidate and choose her as his own, he'd already invested tremendous effort erasing the Asura mark from her source and replacing it with his Rakshasa imprint.
All the guidance, inheritance, divine power investment, and elimination of evil thoughts—each was a massive investment. Giving up now would mean losing it all. Not to mention, he would only infuriate Asura, pleasing neither side.
"Bibi Dong! Do you even know what you're doing?" The Rakshasa God's voice was heavy with anger and disappointment.
Bibi Dong bit her lower lip hard, her face growing paler under the overwhelming wrath and divine pressure, though defiance still burned in her eyes. She shot back:
"That Chen Yi humiliated Xiaogang and gravely injured him! As the Supreme Pontiff of Spirit Hall, what face would I have left if I can't even protect the people around me?"
"How am I to swallow such an insult?!"
"Hah!" The Rakshasa God laughed in fury, the violet-black light around the demon scythe flaring savagely. "Just a piece of trash! Yet you take it so seriously, willing to ruin your future and my grand scheme for his sake."
"Bibi Dong, what's going on inside your head? Are you insane?"
Hearing Yu Xiaogang called "trash" again, rage ignited in Bibi Dong's eyes. Enduring the soul-crushing pressure, she fixed her gaze on the scythe and defended him in a hoarse voice.
"Xiaogang is not some loser! He just… hasn't yet found the best path for himself! I will not permit you to insult him!"
"Not trash?" The Rakshasa God's voice turned chillingly mocking and cruel.
"Then tell me—what makes him not trash?"
"In terms of talent, his so-called 'variant' spirit has pitifully low potential; in this world, he's regarded as the lowest of the low."
"In terms of power, his soul force is weak, his combat ability even worse. He can't even protect himself."
"As for his mind…" The Rakshasa God sneered, mercilessly exposing Bibi Dong's self-deceit. "His so-called 'theories' are a patchwork of borrowed ideas, used to sway gullible, low-level spirit masters and ignorant masses. In the eyes of true powerhouses or sages, they're nothing but a joke."
"He can't even grasp the basic reality of his situation, nor judge circumstances wisely. All he does is provoke powerful enemies, dragging everyone around him into chaos—a true fool!"
"Tell me: a man lacking in talent, strength, and brains… what exactly is he, if not trash?"
Each word lashed Bibi Dong's heart like a venomous whip, shattering the idealized image she had painstakingly built of Yu Xiaogang.
"He's not trash!" Bibi Dong trembled with emotion, her voice nearly a shout. "Just… he read and worked harder than anyone, all to refine his spirit! He…"
"Bibi Dong!" Rakshasa sharply interrupted her, the tip of his demon scythe seeming to aim directly at her soul. "Can you, hand on your heart, say you truly believe every word you're using to defend him? Was there not even a flicker of doubt within you? Did you truly believe it?"
At this, Bibi Dong was stunned silent. Instinctively she tried to retort, but every time the name of Yu Xiaogang surfaced in the news, painful memories she'd repressed flooded her mind. All those memories she had tried so hard to ignore were now forcibly dragged into the light by Rakshasa's power.
She opened her mouth to argue again, but it felt as though something stuck in her throat.
Seeing her like this, the Rakshasa God sneered coldly.
"Well? You're speechless now, aren't you? It's not just me—you know deep down what kind of man he really is."
"You've simply wrapped him in an idealized, twisted layer of first love and regret, clinging to a distorted hope for 'pure light,' and unconsciously chosen to ignore unbearable realities."
As the god who governs evil thoughts, the Rakshasa God fully understood Bibi Dong's obsession with Yu Xiaogang. It was not pure love, but a tangle of first love's regret, possessiveness, fantasy of self-redemption, and desperate longing for something pure—all forming a complex attachment that blinded her to his true nature.
"It's not true! He is not trash!" Bibi Dong screamed, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her eyes rimmed red as she glared at the demon scythe—as if that was the source of her humiliation and obsession.
"Oh." The Rakshasa God's only response was a colder, more contemptuous laugh.
"It's rare for me to even try reasoning with you," his voice returning to its usual indifferent aloofness, though now deepened by exhaustion and disappointment. "But unfortunately, you are not even worth that."
Before she could reply, the immense demon scythe flashed; the overwhelming force of the space descended, instantly enfolding Bibi Dong in spite of her protests.
In the next instant, she was forcibly transported out of the violet-black inheritance space.
Within the now-empty legacy space, only the suspended demon scythe remained, and the wild, frustrated, cursing thoughts of the Rakshasa God echoed in their disappointment and rage.
A mere man? Useless trash, and you care so much?
Anyone who lets themselves be so easily controlled in their will deserves to be an obstacle on your path—and should be eliminated!
Such stupidity! Utter foolishness!
…
Meanwhile, in the Grand Martial Academy's training ground.
Boom!
With a long, refreshing roar, Chen Yi's thunder receded. Clenching his fist, he stood tall.
Directly in front of him, Qian Renxue's figure—disheveled as a fallen angel—lay on the ground amid swirling dust. The angelic radiance emanating from her body had dimmed sharply; her breath quickened, her ornate palatial robes were stained with dust. Yet her gaze was not defeated, but burning with an even fiercer fighting spirit.
Chen Yi casually brushed off imaginary dust from his hand and looked at Qian Renxue, who was slowly rising from the ground, his lips curling with a trace of teasing sarcasm.
"Congratulations, Miss Qian Renxue.
To have achieved the glorious record of four consecutive defeats in such a short time—your indomitable spirit truly deserves recognition."