Chapter 569: Ke Yunhai
More and more disciples were rushing toward the Fourth Peak to try to convince Meng Hao of what to do.
His face was pale, and he suddenly felt deeply depressed. How could he ever have imagined that things would end up in this way?
“You think you can convince me to say I’m wrong? Forget about it!” But then, Meng Hao’s eyes filled with determination. He quickly took a deep breath, and then hurriedly continued, “Jiusi was wrong! This time, Jiusi really was wrong!”
The words instantly caused everything to go quiet. Everyone’s eyes went wide as they stared in disbelief at Meng Hao. Although they had all been trying to convince him to admit his fault, they were well aware of the Little Patriarch’s temperament. He would rather die before admitting he was wrong.
And yet, he just had.
It wasn’t just them who were staring in shock. Suddenly, a violent wind whipped down from mid-air in the shape of a gigantic illusory hand. The hand reached down to grab the shocked Meng Hao, wrenching him up toward an Immortal’s cave on the Fourth Mountain.
At the same time, an ancient voice, filled with wrath and even pain, echoed out throughout the Demon Immortal Sect.
“Old Sixth, my son admitted his fault. From now on, if anyone breathes even half a word of this matter, don’t blame me for flipping out!”
The voice was filled with an intensely domineering air as it rumbled out in all directions. The gigantic wind hand dragged Meng Hao into a spacious Immortal’s cave, then slammed him violently onto the ground. When he landed, however, the power dissipated so that, although he tumbled a bit, he wasn’t hurt at all.
His eyes rolled around, and his brain spun in circles. Inwardly, he was worried that his cover might be blown. However, after reminding himself that this was an illusory world, he felt a bit more at ease. Dusting himself off, he stood up and looked around.
The Immortal’s cave was so simple that it couldn’t possibly be any more simple. It was large, but only contained a single stone bed. Sitting cross-legged on top of the bed was a middle-aged man.
This was the Lord of the Fourth Peak of the Demon Immortal Sect. He was one of the Paragons of the First Heaven, a person famous in all the Ninth Mountain. Ke Yunhai. 1
Next to him was an oil lamp that flickered brightly, completely illuminating the entire Immortal’s cave. If you looked closely, you would be able to see that the wick of the lamp was, shockingly, a phoenix, shrunken down so small that it was roughly the size of a finger!
The oil lamp was not crafted from bronze, but rather, was made of a shrunken down golden dragon. This was a real golden dragon, its mouth open, its whiskers undulating. The entire dragon had been transformed into an oil lamp!
With a dragon as the lamp and a phoenix as the wick, were an object like this to be revealed in Meng Hao’s era, it would cause a huge commotion throughout all the lands of South Heaven. It might even cause shock among the starry skies.
The man sitting on the stone bed had handsome features. It was obvious that when he was young, he had been even more dashing. Right now, his expression was dignified, and he wore a long gray robe. Currently, he was frowning a bit helplessly at Meng Hao.
“Did it hurt?” he asked softly.
Meng Hao hesitated for a moment and then, with great caution, nodded his head.
Seeing Meng Hao’s response caused Ke Yunhe to give an exasperated chortle. “Do you know anything about fear? Isn’t there anyone you’re afraid of? Quit pulling this kind of crap with me!
“Fine. For the time being, don’t go near the Sixth Peak. And keep a low profile, too. Jiusi, stop fooling around so much! You’re not a kid any more. Soon, it will be time to find you a beloved and pass on the Daoist magic of mine that you’ve mastered. Got it?!?!” The more he spoke, the more angry he seemed. However, when he looked at his son, he couldn’t help but sigh. His gaze softened, and his anger passed.
“Very well,” he said, his tone warm. “I want you to demonstrate some of the Daoist magic I’ve passed on to you. Go ahead, show it off.”
Meng Hao swallowed hard. He was actually very nervous at the moment, so nervous that he couldn’t control himself. As far back as he could remember, he had never felt such nervousness. As he looked at the middle-aged man in front of him, he couldn’t help but think of his own father.
The memories were blurry, but still there.
“What’s wrong?” asked Ke Yunhe, frowning.
“I… I forgot,” replied Meng Hao, bracing himself. There was really nothing he could do. Ke Jiusi’s memories really did not contain any Daoist magic.