"Grand Elder, do you have any good ideas?"
The Qing family Grand Elder managed a strained smile. "The root of everything, the source of the Qing family's predicament — it all traces back to one thing: the Bean God Palace! No one besides us wants to see our family successfully refine it. Even if we exhaust all our strength, abandon our territories outside, and manage to repel Ming You, how would we deal with the great powers that come one after another?"
"Cough, cough." The Grand Elder gasped for breath. "That is why our best counterattack is to refine the Bean God Palace ourselves."
An anxious Gu Immortal immediately asked, "How can the Bean God Palace possibly be refined in a hurry?"
The Grand Elder sighed. "There is one method worth trying!"
Every Qing family Gu Immortal's eyes lit up, their gazes fixed unwaveringly on the Supreme Grand Elder.
The Supreme Grand Elder slowly revealed, "Earlier, we deployed Hatred Gu and managed to pry open the Bean God Palace's defenses — we made tremendous progress. Just a little more time, and we could complete the refinement. But what we need most right now is time. We'll have to take a risk and use that killer move."
"What killer move?"
"Could it be..."
Some of the Qing family Gu Immortals looked bewildered, while others' expressions shifted subtly, connecting the words to certain rumors they had heard.
The Supreme Grand Elder nodded, a spark of vigor surfacing on his haggard face. "This killer move was jointly developed by me and the Supreme Second Elder — he was the primary creator, and I assisted. Its power is extraordinary. I will lead the execution, and all of you will participate. Once activated, even the current Bean God Palace cannot withstand it. Any Eighth Transformation Gu Immortal would have to temporarily retreat before its might. No matter how powerful Ming You may be, he is ultimately only at the Seventh Transformation."
"Then let's do it!"
"Grand Elder, what is this move called?"
The Supreme Grand Elder shook his head with a bitter smile. "We had never settled on a name, but the Second Elder has already passed on."
The old man fell silent for a moment, then spoke with solemn gravity: "Then let us call it Qing Chou. This is the Qing family's vengeance! Because of all the hardship and suffering the Bean God Palace has brought upon us, our Qing family must have its revenge. With Qing Chou, we shall fully refine the Bean God Palace! Those great powers harboring ill intentions — every last one of them is an enemy of our Qing family! That Ming You, wreaking havoc across our Qing Province, is even more so our enemy! With Qing Chou, we will—"
"We will take our revenge! We shall reclaim our Qing family's blood debt and return the suffering inflicted upon us a thousandfold! In this, our Qing family will be absolutely unstinting — infinitely generous!"
These words ignited fervent passion in every Immortal present.
"Qing Chou... truly a fine name."
"The Grand Elder is absolutely right. We must have our revenge!"
"Let Qing Chou become the symbol of our Qing family's rise!"
Qing... Chou...
Qing Chou...
Qing Chou?
Qing Chou!
Qing Chou's vision suddenly cleared completely. It remembered everything—every last memory restored, whole and unbroken.
Facing Ming You's assault, the Qing clan immortals decided to unleash Qing Chou's killer move first, to refine the Bean God Palace. Then they would fight their way out and secure victory in one decisive stroke.
But the killer move—on which the clan had pinned all hope for its resurgence—failed to fully refine the Bean God Palace. Instead, it resonated mysteriously with the palace, unleashing a sky full of emerald-green, otherworldly light.
The strange light devoured the Qing clan immortals, consumed their great stronghold, engulfed all of Qingzhou, and spread for ten thousand li!
Ming You was forced to retreat. By the time the strange light faded, every major superpower rushed to investigate. The Qing clan, once at the pinnacle of power, had been reduced to nothing but a vast, desolate desert of ruins.
The unwilling Gu Immortal world of the Western Desert dug through the earth three feet deep, yet not a single clue could be found.
Time slipped away. People gradually shifted from disappointment to despair, and at last abandoned the lifeless wasteland entirely.
All that remained in a forgotten corner was a dark, unremarkable hall—a Gu Immortal wooden-path dwelling of the Eighth Transformation—and within it, a killer move slowly brewing, centered on the Hatred Gu.
This killer move was named Qing Chou.
Qing Chou's killer move had not failed. It had merely been subjected to some unknown influence, undergone some kind of mutation.
It had become… a living being!
Countless vengeful souls of the unjustly dead merged and fused together, and a soul beast born around the Hatred Gu came into existence.
At first, it was very small—frail as a newborn infant.
It opened its eyes. Its gaze was clear as still water.
Then, in a daze, it kept on growing.
Its body grew larger, its form taking distinct shape. It developed claws, a tortoise shell, and a head crowned with long, disheveled hair.
Its size—initially no different from a small white rabbit—gradually matched that of a wolf, then surpassed the sturdiness of an ox, then grew as massive as an elephant, and finally became as enormous as a hill.
The wailing voices of countless wronged souls had been echoing in its ears, in its heart, since the very moment of its birth.
Every time it grew a little taller, a little bigger, those echoing voices grew a little louder, a little more deafening.
They shrieked. They roared.
Qing Chou could not make them out clearly. It was tormented by them.
These voices were maddening, cacophonous, ceaseless—they bred confusion, frustration, and rage.
Its thoughts grew tangled. It became savage and violent.
It roared. Its sharp claws slashed through countless floor tiles of the great hall. It slammed its back against the massive pillars inside, breaking them over and over again. It battered itself until its head bled and its hair hung in wild tangles over its face.
The hall swiftly repaired itself each time, but the voices persisted—and only grew louder and more deafening still.
Qing Chou was utterly helpless.
It could not help but feel disheartened.
It wanted to give up—even wanted to seek death.
But it did not do so. Those noisy voices of the wronged souls seemed to be reminding it of something.
What was it, exactly?
What on earth were those damned voices saying?
Tell me, tell me—why torture me like this? Why not just let me die?!
Ever since the chase battle, when Qing Chou had first sensed the ghosts, it had been plunged into chaos by the hatred Gu. Though it possessed intelligence, that intelligence was muddled.
All it knew was to kill, to crash, to charge, to fight! It would pour every last ounce of strength into its struggle, wring every last drop of blood from its body—as long as it could kill the ghosts, annihilate the ghosts!
Yet now, in this moment, Qing Chou's mind was no longer clouded. It suddenly became extraordinarily clear.
As if parting clouds to reveal the sun—all was lucid.
Its memories suddenly returned in full, and it understood everything from beginning to end.
It had finally understood the cries of those wronged souls.