Chapter 136

Chapter 136: A Sky Full of Stars

Wang Jie nearly shouted.

When he’d first learned those nine requirements, he’d felt nothing but confusion. He hadn’t even known where to start.

Yet step by step, he’d made it.

Now only one requirement remained: master a Chen Art.

He had two Chen Arts.

One was Myriad-Stars Finger. The other was Yi Sword Art.

He already knew Myriad-Stars Finger, but he couldn’t use it without reaching One Gaze, Three Thousand. Yi Sword Art would take time to polish—and it needed One Gaze, Three Thousand as well.

So there was only one path forward.

He had to cultivate One Gaze, Three Thousand.

He went straight to the fourth layer, fixed his eyes on the Thousand-Color Stone, and smiled to himself. Come on. He was at two thousand eight hundred now. Close. So close.

—

In Lock Interspace, the ship returned—with the result.

The Four Alliances and the Lone Peak Gorge fell into uneasy silence.

Even Miao Tai was shaken when he heard. That man had faced so many experts alone and still held his ground.

Too vicious.

Too dangerous.

All Miao Tai felt now was relief that he hadn’t joined any siege back then. Otherwise, he’d already be dead.

“We can’t let him stay in Yi Sword Heaven,” someone said at last. “The rules of Lock Interspace can’t be broken. If he stays, who would dare let their juniors enter?”

“Forget juniors and disciples. I wouldn’t dare go in myself,” another voice muttered. “Life can’t be something another man controls.”

“What about Black-White Heaven?”

“I’ll go to Yi Sword Heaven and talk to him.”

The low voice silenced the room.

Everyone turned.

The speaker was Zong Cheng Ping—one of the Four Alliances, and the recognized strongest Full-Star Realm cultivator in Lock Interspace.

Lie Qiu was hot-blooded by nature, but even she kept her respect in front of Zong Cheng Ping.

Feng Wen Sheng let out a breath. “If Senior Zong goes, we can relax.”

Zong Cheng Ping shook his head. “Not necessarily.

“He may be a once-in-a-thousand-years talent. If he truly is Star-Breaking Realm, and he hides, I may never even find him.

“And he has a creature at his side that can use Chen Art.”

“No matter what,” Feng Wen Sheng said, “we’re in your hands, Senior.”

The room saluted.

“When will you go?” someone asked.

“Now.”

Soon, Zong Cheng Ping boarded a ship and headed for Yi Sword Heaven.

He arrived, stepped onto the surface at the entrance, and stood there for half a day.

Then he frowned.

How was he supposed to find the man?

Yi Sword Heaven was vast. And from Wang Jie’s perspective, everyone had already left—meaning Wang Jie had no reason to seek anyone out.

So Zong Cheng Ping would have to search.

But how do you search a sea?

—

Wang Jie’s days slipped by in a steady rhythm.

The Thousand-Color Stone was like a thread hooked into his mind, guiding his sight, drawing him deeper. The more stones he could see clearly, the more precisely he could command his lockforce.

One hundred and fifty times gravity pressed down on him—heavy, but comfortable.

If it could increase just a bit more, it would be perfect.

Unfortunately, the fourth layer capped at one hundred and fifty.

Even the stone-sword creature seemed content. It wandered Yi Sword Heaven as if it owned the place, occasionally hunting down Wang Jie. It looked almost… satisfied.

A month passed.

Wang Jie rubbed his temples, exhausted.

When he turned, roasted meat was already waiting.

He chuckled. “Thanks.”

The stone-sword creature grinned, then drew its stone sword and began sharpening it against the mountainside.

Another month passed.

This time, Wang Jie was interrupted.

The stone-sword creature pointed insistently toward the surface.

“Someone’s here?” Wang Jie asked.

It nodded.

Wang Jie wasn’t surprised that someone had come looking—but he hadn’t expected it so soon.

The visitor hadn’t found him. Instead, they’d run into the stone-sword creature when it wandered up to the surface.

Wang Jie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No rush. Let him wait.”

Even with the Thousand-Color Stone, the gravity zones, and his exercises, he estimated he’d need at least three more months to reach One Gaze, Three Thousand.

And once he reached it, he would be able to use Myriad-Stars Finger.

He wasn’t going to waste precious time talking to outsiders now.

So Zong Cheng Ping received only one answer: wait.

And he did.

Hands behind his back, he waited without complaint. It wouldn’t take long.

More importantly, he now knew where Wang Jie was.

The fourth layer.

That mysterious layer no one could measure. The layer only Ten Seals could enter.

Was Wang Jie… at Ten Seals?

It was unthinkable.

No one had ever dared place Wang Jie in the realm of Ten Seals. Even those who doubted he was Full-Star Realm still assumed he had to be Star-Breaking Realm.

Yet here he was—Ten Seals.

That changed everything.

Three months later, Wang Jie finally emerged from the fourth layer.

His eyes were clearer. His presence was steadier. Even the way he breathed felt different.

He had reached One Gaze, Three Thousand.

He hadn’t tested it yet, but he knew it as surely as he knew his own heartbeat: he could use Myriad-Stars Finger now.

It was time to stop hiding.

It was time to meet whoever waited outside.

At the surface entrance of Yi Sword Heaven, Zong Cheng Ping saw him—and paused.

Wang Jie looked sharp, keen-eyed, carrying the quiet violence of someone who’d fought his way through too many desperate moments. He was thin and young, but that only made him feel more dangerous.

Wang Jie saw Zong Cheng Ping as well. His combat-power detector flickered, the number refusing to climb above fifty thousand.

Fifty thousand?

Impossible.

“In the name of Zong Cheng Ping,” Zong Cheng Ping said with a smile, “Your Excellency. At last.”

Wang Jie lifted an eyebrow. “You’re Zong Cheng Ping? The strongest Full-Star Realm cultivator in Lock Interspace?”

Zong Cheng Ping laughed softly. “I wouldn’t dare claim that. May I ask Your Excellency’s name?”

“Wang Jie.”

“So it’s Brother Wang Jie.” Zong Cheng Ping’s eyes warmed, polite and practiced. “If I take the liberty of calling you Old Brother… will you allow it?”

“Call me what you like,” Wang Jie said. “I don’t care.”

Zong Cheng Ping’s expression sharpened. “Old Brother. You’ve occupied Yi Sword Heaven for quite some time now. Can you tell me why?”

Wang Jie spread his hands helplessly. “I really did it for the slaughterstones. I made a bet with someone. They told me there was no way I could get them.

“That’s all.”

Zong Cheng Ping didn’t believe a word of it, but he didn’t press. After all, the slaughterstones in question weren’t even real—most were useless.

“Even so,” Zong Cheng Ping said, “can you leave now?

“Lock Interspace has its rules. Billions of lockforce cultivators follow them. We cannot make an exception for one man, even you.”

“I can leave,” Wang Jie said. “But set your terms, Old Brother.

“Don’t tell me this is about protecting me.”

Zong Cheng Ping’s smile turned thin. “Straightforward. We gave you slaughterstones. You made a spectacle of Yi Sword Heaven. We need an explanation.”

Wang Jie nodded once. “Fine. Come take it yourself. I won’t run.”

Zong Cheng Ping’s eyes flared.

He didn’t waste breath. He raised a hand and struck with a palm. Lockforce poured out like a storm, crushing down from the sky itself.

Now that he knew Wang Jie was at Ten Seals, he went straight for overwhelming suppression.

Others couldn’t pin Wang Jie down.

That didn’t mean Zong Cheng Ping couldn’t.

The moment the pressure fell, Wang Jie’s combat-power detector screamed—numbers surging upward.

The lockforce was so heavy it made Wang Jie’s vision blur.

But suppress him with lockforce?

Not a chance.

A deep-black imprint anchored his lockforce like iron. No matter how the outside lockforce crashed against him, it was like waves striking a cliff—loud, violent, and useless.

Wang Jie surged forward with Jia Eight Steps and threw a punch, Qi-Qi Convergence snapping into place. A clear shockwave lifted his hair as the blow landed.

A flying wheel appeared between them.

His fist drove it back, inch by inch, forcing it closer to Zong Cheng Ping.

Zong Cheng Ping’s eyes widened. He slapped a palm onto the far side of the wheel. His fingers curled. Lockforce thundered behind him.

Boom!

The earth caved.

The backlash hammered Wang Jie backward.

He attacked again from another angle. The flying wheel blurred and arrived in an instant, blocking perfectly.

He pressed closer—only for the wheel to accelerate, spinning faster and faster. When Wang Jie closed within a meter, it didn’t just defend. It countered.

If Wang Jie hadn’t shifted into Sword Steps and met it with a storm of sword shadows, he would have taken a clean hit.

He retreated a thousand meters, eyes narrowed.

Perfect defense.

Zong Cheng Ping lowered his arm. The wheel hovered, spinning in front of him like a living thing.

“Just as Feng Lang said,” Zong Cheng Ping said, genuinely impressed, “your footwork is the fastest in Lock Interspace.”

Wang Jie’s lips barely moved. “And I still can’t break your defense.”

“This isn’t just defense,” Zong Cheng Ping said. His voice carried a quiet pride. “Ten Seals reaching this level of combat power is rare across all eras. Perhaps only that wandering god could compare.

“It’s my honor to meet a powerhouse like you. So, Old Brother—don’t hold back.”

“Wandering god?” Wang Jie repeated, eyes sharpening.

The detector numbers flickered again—then surged.

The wheel’s rotation accelerated.

And the combat-power number climbed, climbed, climbed… until it stopped.

One hundred thousand.

Roaming-Star Realm combat power.

Wang Jie’s breath tightened.

He could see it now: Zong Cheng Ping’s qi pouring into the wheel, concentrated, violent. This was a Star-Breaking technique—and the strength of it dwarfed his own.

Zong Cheng Ping flicked his hand.

The wheel shot forward and carved an arc through the void.

It arrived in an instant.

Wang Jie snapped into Jia Eight Steps, dodging by a hair.

The wheel followed, faster than it should have been, its path changing like a thought.

Jia Eight Steps left afterimages.

The wheel left afterimages too.

The only way was to close on Zong Cheng Ping—and every time Wang Jie tried, the wheel arrived first, blocking the line and forcing him back.

What kind of technique was this?

Most techniques peaked in a single, explosive moment.

But Zong Cheng Ping maintained one hundred thousand combat power in constant motion—attack and defense unified, a moving executioner that made numbers meaningless. Anything weaker would be erased outright.

No wonder he was the strongest Full-Star Realm cultivator in Lock Interspace. Ten Full-Star Realm experts could surround him and still be useless.

Against this, Wang Jie had only one answer.

Myriad-Stars Finger.

Even his strongest burst—plus an IOU slip—might not reach one hundred thousand.

“Old Brother,” Zong Cheng Ping said calmly, as the wheel swept in again, “how long can you keep dodging?”

Wang Jie exhaled slowly. “Old Brother… have you ever seen stars?”

Zong Cheng Ping blinked. “What…?”

The wheel’s afterimages scattered.

The world filled with starlight.

Zong Cheng Ping saw stars.

Not painted illusions. Not tricks.

Stars replaced heaven and earth, blinking quietly. They drew closer and became spinning worlds—and inside those worlds, immense fingers descended like the fingertips of giants, pressing down as if to crush everything.

Zong Cheng Ping had seen countless techniques. Some had been more dazzling than this.

But those had been false.

This was real.

Every star was real.

It was a sky full of stars.

And within those stars, fingers descended, heavy with a power that made his soul tremble.

It overturned the world.

It trapped everything he saw, heard, thought, and felt beneath that endless starfield.

Stars.

So this was what stars were.

This was Chen Art.

Finger after finger struck the flying wheel, making it shudder violently. Another finger fell. Then another. Then another—hammering the wheel, pinning it in place by sheer force.

The remaining fingers descended through the starlit sky, closing in on Zong Cheng Ping himself.

Zong Cheng Ping drew a hard breath. His hands spread, and lockforce erupted from his body in a violent surge. He shoved the flying wheel forward with both palms.

A Star-Breaking technique—Lone Star Slash.

“You have a sky full of stars,” Zong Cheng Ping said, voice tight with strain. “I have only a Lone Star Slash.”