Master of Strange Dao

"I understand," Yu Ziqing nodded.

He let go of many things, re-examining the situation, always feeling that something was slightly amiss, but he couldn't quite grasp it.

After much thought, when he couldn't figure it out, he decided not to think about it anymore.

Things were proceeding smoothly on Yang's end, so he didn't need to rush.

After standing up, he closed his eyes and began practicing the Maze Step Technique.

Using this technique as a key to enter and leave the Mausoleum seemed a bit wasteful; it was especially effective in combat, particularly in close quarters.

Of course, there was another issue: since he hadn't mastered the Secret Technique key, every time he entered or exited, he had to perform the entire set of steps in one go to reach the next layer.

If danger arose and he needed to open a door, it would take quite a while, and he would likely be beaten to death by then.

He now aimed to practice the steps in reverse until they were second nature, his body moving rhythmically without the need to think, enabling him to complete the entire set as quickly as possible.

In times of danger, at the very least, he could use it to flee or retreat.

Ziqing always took life-preserving measures seriously.

Practicing in reverse proved difficult at first; he stumbled through the steps.

But no matter, he could take his time.

Having spent a year layering armor in the past, he could certainly devote time now to practice life-saving techniques.

Ao Qing just watched, and Ziqing, as if he weren't there, practiced on his own.

Time passed slowly by, and Ziqing, from initially stumbling, practiced until he could perform the technique forwards and backwards at will, able to initiate the steps at any moment seamlessly.

Half a year later, Ziqing's figure flickered like a wisp of light within the palace, weaving through crowds without touching a soul. In the span of three breaths, he could circle the intricate palace without slowing or colliding with anything.

Stopping in his tracks, Ziqing exhaled deeply.

In the short term, this was the limit.

While it took three breaths to perform normally, in reverse it was even quicker, needing just over two breaths.

Any faster would not be achievable within a year.

By now, the Step Technique had nearly become an instinct for his body; even before his brain could react, his flesh was already responding.

"I'm going to the next layer. Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"Be very careful, and if it's not working out, just give it up," Ao Qing said, retrieving a box from inside the palace and placing it in front of Ziqing.

"This is everything I have left including all inheritances that can be imprinted. Some are fit for human Cultivators, some are not. You can take them for reference. Keeping them is of no use to me now. If I don't have a chance this time, there won't be one in the future either. Take them all. Whether it works out or not, I'm prepared for any outcome."

Ziqing looked at Ao Qing, who was making a serious, earnest face, and couldn't help but sigh silently to himself.

Among humans, he was just a ten-year-old child.

It was a pity that he never lived the life a child should have; his existence was more taxing than that of most Cultivators.

Ziqing glanced at the box.

"I'll leave it here for now. It feels great to get paid before doing the work, and to get paid even if the job isn't done, but that depends on the situation," he said.

Ziqing was keen on taking ownerless items but was sometimes reluctant to take things that required work to earn.

He didn't look to see what treasures were inside, fearing he wouldn't be able to resist taking them first.

He took a step and his figure turned into a remnant shadow, vanishing on the spot.

Just over two breaths later, he disappeared from that level.

Ao Qing gazed blankly where Ziqing had vanished, recognizing the Right Step Technique he'd used.

"What an odd person..."

With that, Ao Qing started to laugh, sitting there, nibbling on a Spirit Fruit. The solemn little face, now smiling, no longer looked like an antique.

He resembled more of what a child should be.

The people around crowded closer, looking at Ao Qing.

"It'll be difficult for him to succeed."

"That's alright," Ao Qing shook his head, smiling happily, "Whether I succeed or not, I'm already content. Even if I die, I won't resent anyone. This is my fate."

All these people were manifestations of his spirituality, created when he had to avoid the Curse-powered Patrol Sea Demons by dispersing his spirituality and transforming them into murals hiding in every corner of his most familiar palace.

Even if some were eradicated, there were others remaining.

These were all people he had once met.

The separated spiritual aspects didn't understand, and Ao Qing didn't bother to explain. He kept nibbling the Spirit Fruit that Ziqing loved the most, still very happy.

Because from the moment he opened his eyes, everyone had been instilling certain things in him.

His True Dragon bloodline didn't belong to him but to the entire Dragon Clan, and his existence carried the hope of the entire clan.

He had nearly been crushed by the despair that he was supposed to comprehend, sense from the moment he opened his eyes, along with the responsibilities that constantly weighed on him.

Everyone had an agenda, including those who had once managed to enter the Inner Mausoleum by chance.

All had their own goals, whether for treasures, Secret Techniques, or perhaps even more audaciously, to take everything into their own hands.

Ziqing was the first one he'd seen who, although clearly desiring it, still refused.

Ao Qing's spirituality was so elevated that he could clearly sense Ziqing had no confidence at all, simply wanting him to relax in his final moments, not be so severe, not be so exhausted, and, before passing away, to experience a little of what a ten-year-old child should feel.