Chapter 270: Everyone Cry (Fifth Watch)

Lin Chuyue and the Drunken Sword Daoist heard the news and hurriedly retreated.

Lu Ye closed his eyes, and a blue radiance burst forth from his body in an instant.

Endless blue light transformed into countless glowing specks, surging across the entire Fourth Heaven. A profound sorrow rose and fell between heaven and earth.

At first, the unaffected cultivators felt nothing unusual, though pessimistic images flashed through their minds.

But for some, it was different.

These were the relatives and friends of the powerful experts who had been incinerated by Lu Ye’s Nine Suns World-Burning Fire Formation.

Not long ago, they had wept bitterly for the loss of their loved ones.

Their grief had just begun to settle.

Yet now…

Someone in the midst of cultivation suddenly felt an overwhelming sorrow seize their heart—the image of their father turning to ashes uncontrollably flooding their mind.

"Pfft!"

A mouthful of blood sprayed out as their energy surged violently, teetering on the brink of qi deviation.

"Senior brother!"

A heart-wrenching wail echoed through the entire sect!

"Come back… I miss you, I miss you… Wuwuwu…"

At a gathering, a sudden cry of grief erupted.

"Master… Wuwuwu…"

Everyone froze.

"Fellow Daoist Yuan Shang is truly devoted and sincere—I’m moved to tears as well… Wuwuwu…"

"Ah, why are *you* crying? It’s understandable for Fellow Daoist Yuan Shang to weep for his master, but what’s your reason? Now that you’re crying, I can’t hold back either… Wuwuwu…"

And just like that, the floodgates opened.

Sobs of sorrow quickly spread like wildfire.

Some wept for their fallen masters, while others cried for no clear reason—they simply wept.

The dancing fairies in the hall, witnessing this, swayed their graceful figures while exchanging bewildered glances.

What’s going on?

Wait, if you’re all crying like this, should we even keep dancing?

Seriously, what’s wrong with you esteemed Daoists?

These dancers, each with tragic backgrounds—a gambling father, a bedridden mother, a swordsman brother, and their own shattered lives—hadn’t shed a tear.

Yet here were these lofty figures, clinking wine cups, now bawling their eyes out.

You still have to pay even if you're crying!

What if they don’t pay...

The thought struck the dancers, and sorrow welled up in their hearts. They were weak, powerless—if these lofty Daoist masters truly refused to pay, they had no recourse at all.

They were so pitiful!

"Wahhh..."

...

"Master’s wife, Master just passed, and here we are committing such an unforgivable act. I truly feel I’ve wronged him. I’m not human, I’m not human!"

"Wahhh, just get down. I also feel I’ve wronged your master. It’s all my fault. If only I hadn’t given in to loneliness back then, such a grave mistake wouldn’t have happened, wahhh..."

"Don’t say that, Master’s wife. The more you say it, the guiltier I feel. Ahhh, I’m so miserable, I’m in so much pain!"

"Then why don’t you just come down~"

"Your legs are wrapped around me—I can’t get down, I really can’t..."

The two had been locked in combat.

But as they fought, they both broke down crying.

"Should we pause? Wahhh..."

"Fine, let’s cry first, then fight..."

They stopped fighting, each retreating to a safe distance to wipe their tears and blow their noses.

Perfectly fine one moment, and then suddenly—why the hell are we crying?

With this crying, all killing intent vanished, all fighting spirit gone. How could they even continue?

The Eastern Wasteland was a scene of utter grief.

Literally, a scene of utter grief.

Everyone was crying, wailing uncontrollably.

Heart-wrenching sobs, heads bowed, feet stomping—unable to stop!

Soon, this wave of sorrow spread endlessly.

In the Southern Wilds, hidden great demons wept uncontrollably, unable to comprehend why, despite their immense power, they still had to hide deep in the mountains.

Sect after sect wept, lost in their misery.

The Western Desert wept, lamenting their wretched fate—trapped in the barren wasteland, not a single blade of green grass in sight.

The Northern Frost wept too—so cold, so unbearably cold.

The sound of crying shook the heavens.

"Stop crying, stop crying! We cultivators must have steadfast Dao hearts, unyielding in our pursuit! Wahhh, it’s too hard, cultivation is just too hard! I can’t do it, I can’t!"

"I don’t even have anything to be sad about! All of you, stop crying—because when you cry, I want to cry too!"

"Something's wrong, there must be something wrong. Let me investigate, sob sob..."

They cried for a full half-hour, everyone's eyes red and swollen.

"No more crying! Everyone, calm down, stop crying!"

"Stop crying!"

Someone sniffled, unable to hold back, and let out a soft sob.

That faint sob immediately triggered another wave of weeping.

The cries shook the heavens.

Even from thousands of miles away in the sky, Lu Ye seemed to hear the tremendous wailing.

Damn, whose crying is so loud? So full of vigor—must be a powerhouse.

Lin Chuyue wept until her vision blurred. Truth be told, she lived quite happily, with no major regrets.

But so what?

She just wanted to cry!

The Drunken Sword Daoist gulped down wine while sobbing.

Look at Lu Ye—he stepped up and helped resolve the Dark Cult and single-handedly dealt with the Sorrowful Cave.

And then look at himself? Just muddling along as the sect leader of Tianmen, unable to solve anything.

It’s just—just unspeakable!

All he could do was drown his sorrows in wine and weep bitterly.

The whole world was crying.

"Drip, sob sob..."

Huh?

"Ding, why are you crying?"

"Drip, sister, host..."

Great, even Providence was crying.

The Human Emperor Banner trembled incessantly.

"What, you crying too?" Lu Ye asked, eyeing the banner.

"M-Master... *hic*... too full~"

Lu Ye...

This one was just stuffed.

Blue light bloomed, merging into the world before being swiftly purified by it.

As long as this sorrow didn’t accumulate, resolving it was actually quite simple.

"Ding, Providence, pour!"

"Drip, received!"

Lu Ye's divine mark between his brows shone brightly, and in an instant, he expanded once more.

At the same time, Lin Chuyue and the Drunken Sword Daoist also received rewards from Providence.

Lu Ye swiftly refined them.

His aura surged wildly.

Yet, Lu Ye felt a tinge of regret, for only one problem remained to be solved.

At most, he could receive one more infusion—after that, he would still need to cultivate diligently on his own.

Celestial Realm, eighth layer!

Celestial Realm, ninth layer!

Celestial Realm, tenth layer!

Not yet at the limit—break through once more!

In one breath, he reached the eleventh layer of the Celestial Realm. Lu Ye felt he had truly grasped the essence of the Celestial Realm—strength piercing the heavens, the Dao transcending the skies!

Having digested most of Providence’s rewards, Lu Ye immediately unleashed the Vermilion Bird’s True Flame, tossing in vast quantities of rare treasures.

There’s no time like the present—today, he would break through to the Divine Realm and condense his sixth life.

The Vermilion Bird’s True Flame blazed fiercely.

The rare treasures swiftly melted into medicinal liquid, intertwining to form a fist-sized pill.

Lu Ye opened his mouth and swallowed it.

Huff… so hot!

Breakthrough!