Yang Kai's Divine Sense, sharp as a needle and swift as lightning, wove through and lingered upon the star chart that adorned the sky above his Sea of Consciousness.
Before long, following Xue Tong's directions, he located a Cultivation Star roughly the size of a silver platter. On this star, ocean and land each claimed about half the surface, and its volume was comparable to that of the Heng Luo Chamber of Commerce's main world—Water Moon Star.
This was Rainfall Star!
Surrounding Rainfall Star were far larger Sun Stars and several diminutive Moon Stars. Under the pull of gravitational fields, the Moon Stars revolved ceaselessly around Rainfall Star, while Rainfall Star itself orbited a Sun Star under the same force—independent of one another, yet bound together by countless invisible threads.
The arrangement of this star domain was profoundly mysterious. The patterns of celestial motion concealed the laws of the Great Dao, mesmerizing all who beheld them.
Sun Stars and Moon Stars were two celestial bodies that invariably existed around every Cultivation Star. The Sun Stars radiated sunlight, sustaining the plants and living beings on the Cultivation Stars, while the Moon Stars shed a sacred, cool luminescence that soothed the mind and calmed the spirit.
After locating Rainfall Star, Yang Kai began experimenting with charting safe travel routes, drawing on his own understanding of the star domain.
To his surprise, he discovered that using his consciousness as a brush and his Divine Sense as ink to trace routes upon the star chart could actually deepen his understanding and mastery of Divine Sense power.
This accidental discovery sent him into near-euphoria.
He threw himself into the task wholeheartedly, simulating one safe star chart after another and inscribing each mapped route into his Star Shuttle.
He found endless pleasure in the work, gradually losing all sense of time as he immersed himself in this profoundly mystical domain.
Drawing and inscribing star charts consumed enormous amounts of Divine Sense power. Yang Kai spent many days absorbed in the process, creating countless safe-route charts—some spanning vast distances between Cultivation Stars where even a warship would need years of travel, others connecting neighboring stars that could be traversed in mere months.
His understanding of the star domain grew ever deeper. His command of Divine Sense fire became increasingly instinctive, and from within, he felt as though his very soul was being cleansed and elevated.
Yet he had no way of knowing how useful these charts would actually prove, or whether navigating the star domain by his maps would truly be foolproof—whether he could really avoid all danger.
Only practical experience could yield a definitive answer.
He turned his attention back to the warship's current course and compared it against his hand-drawn charts.
The result delighted him: his safe star chart matched the warship's navigation route to the letter. He felt a surge of excitement, as though his efforts had been validated—his confidence soared.
He began observing the route ahead, checking for potential dangers.
The moment he looked, he noticed something amiss.
If the warship continued on for another day or two, it would enter a frigid, lifeless stretch of star domain. Across that vast expanse, meteorites crowded together like a boundless ocean—dense and numberless. Every surrounding star was dim and lightless, shrouded in absolute silence, completely devoid of spiritual energy.
All of these stars were dead.
He relayed his discovery to Xue Tong through the compass.
Xue Tong replied swiftly: "Young Master Yang, there's no need to worry. That's the infamous Cold Dead Zone. We do pass through it."
"Is there really no danger?" Yang Kai pressed, still uneasy.
"None at all. Every warship running the Rainfall Star to Water Moon Star route passes through there, and nothing has ever gone wrong." Xue Tong seemed to think Yang Kai was making a fuss over nothing and silently chuckled.
After a pause, he suddenly asked in surprise: "How did Young Master Yang know we'd be passing through the Cold Dead Zone?"
Given what he knew of Yang Kai, it seemed impossible that the young man could possess such expertise, and he couldn't help but marvel.
Yang Kai offered no explanation. He cut the connection and returned to his star chart work, focusing on refining his mastery of Divine Sense power.
Meanwhile, in another cabin aboard the warship. This one was luxuriously appointed. Xueyue sat in a plush chair, body and mind fully relaxed, a wine glass held lightly in his fingers. The cup held wine as crimson as fresh blood. He sipped with elegant grace, listening to the report of an elder at the Void Return Realm.
"Young Master, I've conducted a thorough investigation. The cargo aboard the ship is perfectly legitimate—it's exactly what Lieyan ordered. No prohibited items were found either."
"Nothing overlooked?" Xueyue asked softly.
"Nothing! I even grabbed one of the workers and probed his memories. Still nothing suspicious."
"Oh?" A contemplative look crossed Xueyue's face. His fingers—slender and fairer than any woman's—unconsciously twirled a strand of his hair, gently toying with it as his brows furrowed slightly.
The gesture was entirely unconscious, yet to another subordinate standing nearby, it struck like a thunderbolt. The man stared at Xueyue with eyes glazed by infatuation, his breathing growing ragged in an instant. He gazed without restraint, his pupils gradually reddening, like a starving jackal eyeing a delicious feast.
From within his body surged an unmistakable wave of power—as though he were about to abandon all reason, regardless of gender, and hurl himself at Xueyue!
"Young Master!" The Void Return Realm expert instantly sensed the danger and barked a sharp, low warning.