Chapter 127: Frost Sword Formation vs. Imperial Palace Guards

Shen Yan’s fingertips were still pressed against the phone screen, the reverse tracing program having just run halfway, when the golden pattern on his palm suddenly burned as if about to ignite. He grunted, nearly dropping the phone, but in that split second, the Sword Qi barrier of the Frost Soul Sword trembled violently, its surface covered in dense green code streams. It was as if someone, unseen, had quietly installed a driver for Ye Zhao’s sword array.

“Holy crap?” His eyes lit up. “It can auto-adapt like this?”

Before his words faded, the strawberry talisman papers Yu Xiaotang had pasted on the doors and windows also began to hum, their edges glowing with a cyan light, perfectly matching the frequency of the bell patterns on Pei Yue’s medicine pouch. The three streams of spiritual breath converged in the air, spontaneously forming a triangular stabilization field that forcibly pried open a crack in the sealed system permissions.

“Nice work, sisters!” Shen Yan grinned, his fingers flying across the virtual keyboard. “Since you’ve delivered cheats to my doorstep, it’d be rude not to accept.”

He grabbed the data from Ye Zhao’s sword domain into the source code interface and casually wrote a “Frost Analysis Script,” instantly converting the sky-filling Sword Qi into a callable defense module. A notice popped up on the screen: “High-level Sword Intent injection detected. Temporary shield protocol generated.”

Ye Zhao shot him a cold glare. “Don’t mess with my sword.”

“I’m not messing with it, just borrowing its shell,” Shen Yan replied without looking up. “Your Sword Qi is fierce, but too rigid—it’s prone to shattering. I’m adding a buffer pool for you, guaranteed to be as stable as an old dog.”

Before she could retort, orderly footsteps echoed from the distance, the ground trembling faintly. In an instant, dozens of Imperial Palace Guards advanced in formation, their armor gleaming coldly, long halberds standing like a forest. The leading general held a Mystic Gate token, shouting sharply, “Shen Yan! Surrender now, or be killed on sight!”

Shen Yan glanced at the terminal—the heatmap had finally loaded. Deep within the palace, in the side courtyard of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the encrypted command mixed within the Dragon Qi fluctuations was unmistakably a copy of his Source Code Spiritual Root, even the function naming conventions were identical.

“Who’s using me as a template to write cheats?” He narrowed his eyes. “Bold, aren’t they?”

Just as he was about to dig deeper into the data chain, the bluestone beneath his feet exploded with a “boom,” spewing out a cloud of dark purple poisonous mist. The stench was overwhelming, and its corrosive power was so intense that even the air seemed to crack with fine fissures. Ye Zhao reacted swiftly, sweeping the Frost Soul Sword horizontally. The Sword Qi tore through the mist, carving out a vacuum zone that shielded Shen Yan.

“Cough, cough…” Yu Xiaotang flipped down from the roof, her ponytail swaying wildly. “Who released this biochemical weapon? That’s just too low!”

From within the smoke, a figure stepped out leisurely, holding a folding fan, his sleeves fluttering gracefully. It was Xie Wujiu.

He gently fanned himself, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Young Master Shen is indeed clever. Pity clever people never live long.”

Ye Zhao pointed her sword tip at his throat. “Mystic Gate’s State Preceptor, privately mobilizing palace guards, abusing poisonous mist—do you know your crime?”

“Crime?” Xie Wujiu chuckled softly. “I’m saving lives. The one you’re protecting has the Demon Lord’s essence blood flowing within him. He is a source of chaos by nature. If not eliminated in time, within three days, he will attract the Nine Thunderbolts Strike, bringing calamity to the entire city.”

Shen Yan’s pupils contracted sharply.

Demon Lord’s essence blood?

He instinctively touched his chest—the golden pattern burned even hotter, as if responding to something.

But he didn’t believe it. If this thing was truly so dangerous, it would have exploded eight hundred times already—how could it still be alive?

His gaze fixed intently on Xie Wujiu’s folding fan—the arrangement of runes carved on the fan ribs was exactly identical to the invocation protocol for the “Cross-Technique Interface” that remained locked in his phone!

“Wait…” He abruptly pulled Ye Zhao back a step.

The ground beneath them collapsed instantly, rubble flying, and within the poisonous mist, distorted Data Shadows emerged, like deleted programs struggling to revive, or like some ancient Code forcibly awakening.

“You tampered with my Source Code,” Shen Yan’s voice lowered slightly. “Not just copying it—you altered the Underlying Logic.”

Xie Wujiu’s smile remained unchanged: “You finally noticed. You think you awakened? No, you were ‘activated.’ The Demon Lord’s essence blood has slept for a thousand years, waiting precisely for this vessel of yours.”

Ye Zhao’s Sword Array suddenly lost control, several Sword Qi slashed gaps through the poisonous mist, reflecting eerie purple light. Her expression shifted slightly, her grip tightening on her sword.

Yet Shen Yan laughed: “So, what you fear isn’t me killing or burning—you fear me waking up?”

“Wake?” Xie Wujiu shook his head. “You never truly slept. Someone merely turned off your Memory switch.”

He closed his fan, the poisonous mist swirling, coalescing into a human face—features blurred, yet bearing a familiar Outline—seven parts resembling Shen Yan.

Shen Yan’s heart jolted.

That was… his father’s face?

But the next moment, the face Collapsed, transforming into countless scrambled characters, assembling into a line in the air:

【System Initializing… Identity Verification: Administrator Permission pending confirmation】

“You implanted an Initiate Program inside me?” Shen Yan sneered. “And used my father’s face as the UI Interface? Your aesthetic taste is truly low.”

Xie Wujiu didn’t answer, merely lightly waved his hand. Within the poisonous mist, three illusory chains manifested, rushing straight toward Shen Yan.

Ye Zhao shouted angrily, Frost Soul Sword slicing a cross-shaped Sword Array in midair, Sword Qi intertwining with Code, forcibly severing the chains. Yet just as she struck, the Sword Array’s edges suddenly glowed purple, as if contaminated by something.

“Careful!” Shen Yan pulled her back, whispering, “Did you just recall something?”

Ye Zhao’s breathing faltered, her gaze momentarily dazed: “I… seem to have seen this poisonous mist before.”

“You certainly have seen it,” Xie Wujiu said calmly. “Before your mother died, the last thing she saw was this purple hue.”

Ye Zhao’s pupils abruptly contracted, her sword momentum faltering.

Shen Yan immediately sensed something wrong, swiftly calling up the “Emotional Stability Patch,” pushing a segment of slow-release Code toward her. But before it could take effect, Yu Xiaotang suddenly screamed: “Brother! Behind you!”

He sharply turned, seeing a Dark Shadow lunging from the poisonous mist—it was the imperial guard general previously sealed by immobilization runes, now eyes crimson red, skin crawling with demonic patterns, as if manipulated by something.

Shen Yan dodged to shield Ye Zhao, his phone instantly popping up an alert: “Warning: Detected parasitic Data Puppet, recommend immediate isolation!”

Without time to think, he raised his hand and cast a “Forced Restart Command,” directly striking the general’s forehead. The opponent’s body stiffened, demonic patterns fracturing inch by inch, collapsing heavily to the ground.

“Tsk, Ye Shi’er’s old tricks again,” he gasped. “These days villains are too lazy to innovate.”

Xie Wujiu smiled instead. “You think he’s a puppet? No, he volunteered. Because I know the truth—the Demon Lord’s essence blood within you can only be fully activated through the blood of a close relative.”

Shen Yan’s heart skipped a beat.

Close relative?

Before he could react, Xie Wujiu had already raised his fan, pointing toward the palace. “Your mother isn’t dead. She’s waiting for you. If you enter the palace, you’ll see her.”

The air instantly froze.

Ye Zhao stared at him intently, while Yu Xiaotang opened her mouth but didn’t speak.

Shen Yan stood still, the golden patterns on his palm burning so hot they seemed about to seep blood. He knew this was a trap, but those words were like a needle piercing the softest spot.

“You’re lying,” he said softly.

“Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” Xie Wujiu tucked his fan into his sleeve. “But time is running out. Before the third watch, if you don’t enter the palace, she will be sacrificed to the Three Realms Furnace.”

The wind swept through the lingering mist, tousling Yu Xiaotang’s ponytail. She quietly pulled out a new talisman, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Ye Zhao suddenly stepped forward, blocking Shen Yan, her sword tip pointed directly at Xie Wujiu. “If you want him to go, you’ll have to get past me first.”

Xie Wujiu shook his head. “Why bother? You protect him because you like him. But him? Does he know who he really is?”

Shen Yan lowered his head to look at his phone screen. The last line of Code was running:

【Trace bloodline origin? Y/N】

His finger hovered above the confirm button, hesitating to press down.

From afar, the bell tower sounded a drumbeat.

Second watch.

(End of Chapter)