Scene Sixty-Eight: You Have a Heavenly Emperor Arriving—Please Acknowledge Receipt

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After returning from Boya’s place, Sang Sang found the star network had fallen eerily quiet; whatever troubles still lingered had nothing to do with her. It seemed the higher authorities had intervened—the topic of the Hundred Blossoms Saintess had vanished entirely. Of course, any discussion about Sang Sang herself had long since subsided. The results of the appeal list’s penalties had been publicly announced. Although no one continued to fuss over the cheating scandal, the assigned task—to recreate a work in creative media—remained unchanged, scheduled for the final day of the creative media exhibition, which itself was the day before the soul test.

“Sang Sang, let me show you a video,” Xiao Jin said, pouncing before her and opening a light screen. On it, Sena and Aslan were shown emerging from the small black prison gates. The footage continued until the two finished conversing in the shuttle car. Xiao Jin explained, “Little Na says Sena was punished for using you in his scheme—he’s sentenced to suffer as an abused child in a magical artifact, ten lifetimes in a row. An hour equals a year, so he’s endured four hundred years. It’s so pitiful.”

Sang Sang was silent for a moment before closing the screen. “So you’ve already tamed Sena’s terminal intelligence? Next time, don’t leave video evidence like this. If there’s information I need to know, just tell me directly—be careful not to get caught.”

“I understand. It’s only because Sena is your guardian and your relationship is different that Little Na was willing to share news about you with me,” Xiao Jin replied, then asked, “Should we thank Sena? What kind of gift would be appropriate?”

“There’s no need. If he wanted to keep it a secret from me, I’ll just pretend I don’t know,” Sang Sang said, patting Xiao Jin. “Once I become the Saintess, I’ll make him Chief Assistant.”

“Alright, anyway, the Heavenly Emperor isn’t suited for being an assistant, and the others aren’t familiar enough with the temple to be appropriate,” Xiao Jin nodded. “By the way, Sang Sang, there’s a package for you—it just arrived.”

Sang Sang walked over to inspect it. “What is it? Did you buy something?”

Xiao Jin shook his head. “Not me. The sender is Grandpa Anthony’s starship intelligence. The main brain’s scan cleared it, but I haven’t checked what’s inside—you came back just as it arrived.”

The package was not large, square and only as tall as her palm, but with the temple’s widespread use of spatial compression, one couldn’t guess the contents by its size. Sang Sang pressed her terminal to the package’s lock, at which the outer layer dissolved into energy, revealing a spherical spatial container. Before she could look inside, a hand reached out from within…

From the small orb, a large hand extended—a thin, elegant hand, the skin pale and smooth, veins visible beneath the surface, fingers long with sharp, pointed nails, a thin callus at the center of the palm.

It felt all too familiar.

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Xiao Jin cried out, “The Heavenly Emperor!”

Sang Sang ground her teeth—so it really was him! That scoundrel, once again shipping himself as a parcel, never learning his lesson!

A spatial fissure hissed and crackled open above the outstretched hand.

Immediately, the hand twisted, rolling the entire spherical container out of the way, dodging the rift. Then a figure leapt out, raising a ruckus. “Sang Sang, how heartless! I came to surprise you, and you try to murder your own husband!”

“Indeed, you never learn!” Sang Sang exclaimed, twisting around to pounce on the Heavenly Emperor, but not before gently tossing Xiao Jin onto the swing by the window. “Xiao Jin, help me maximize the Sang Tree House’s space.”

“Haha, I knew you missed me too, Sang Sang. Come, throw yourself into my arms!” The Heavenly Emperor spread his arms, eager to catch her, but upon seeing the swirling energy spheres in her hands and sensing the terrifying power within, he yelped and ducked away.

Xiao Jin rested his chin in his hands, swinging his small legs. Not only did he expand the Sang Tree House’s space to encompass a thousand kilometers of starry sky, he also activated maximum defenses—enough to withstand a Xuan-level master for a while. Sang Sang and Xiao Jin could fight without fear of breaking anything.

The Heavenly Emperor quickly noticed Sang Sang’s fusion with space-time, able to anticipate his every move. His eyes shone like twin suns, and he stopped dodging. “Impressive. Careful, Sang Sang—I’m getting serious now!”

The two of them chased and sparred, energy exploding across the sky, space riddled with fissures. Only the corner where Xiao Jin sat remained calm and undisturbed—not a single leaf fell from a potted plant—while he activated high-function dynamic scans to observe their movements.

“How nostalgic—Sang Sang gets to chase the Heavenly Emperor again. Hmm, he’s been working hard too, his strength has improved a lot. But Sang Sang has space-time—he can’t escape.”

At first, Sang Sang only meant to teach the Heavenly Emperor a lesson, to show him how dangerous it was to ship himself as a package, especially in a strange place like the temple where even the delivery couriers were at least Sky level. But once the fight began, all her thoughts vanished; she saw only the Heavenly Emperor before her.

She had fought countless opponents to hone her martial skills, but none gave her the thrill the Heavenly Emperor did. Not even Aslan, who taught her body arts and soul magic, could compare.

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Though Sang Sang didn’t use synchronization, her mind and the Heavenly Emperor’s became increasingly in tune—one movement, one glance, and even without seeing each other, she could anticipate his next move. Their duel became a showcase of the new skills each had learned during their time apart.

The Heavenly Emperor hadn’t been idle on his travels—now he, too, was at the peak of the Heavenly level. Unlike Sang Sang, he specialized in space-time, with a secondary focus on devouring techniques, ignoring all other laws. His mastery of spatial laws had grown deeper; with a single spatial tear, he could break through dozens of layers. His command of temporal laws had also advanced—once, he could only rewind time to the past, but now he could leap forward, appearing in Sang Sang’s path from the future.

Sang Sang wielded many laws, her combat experience vastly improved; her attacks were unpredictable, dazzling, leaving no room for defense. Sometimes she used mirrored space-time illusions to confuse the Heavenly Emperor, but his newly developed Eyes of Space-Time were sharp as ever, and neither could gain the upper hand.

The Heavenly Emperor used devouring powers to absorb Sang Sang’s mirrored space-times. Though his appearance grew disheveled, his eyes sparkled brilliantly, his smile more joyous than ever. “Exhilarating! Any more tricks? What about your paintings? Let me see if your dark art has improved too!”

“You said it.” Sang Sang’s clothes were a mess, sweat streaming down her face, but the laughter in her eyes and at the corners of her lips could not be suppressed. She was relaxed and radiant, less like a brawler and more like a child who’d run wild at an amusement park. She flipped out a scroll. “This painting is called ‘Tomb of the Gods.’ I haven’t tested its power yet—be careful.”

“‘Tomb of the Gods’? Tomb of the Gods!” The Heavenly Emperor finished absorbing the mirrored space-times, unleashing his devouring power to the fullest, swallowing torrents of energy and converting them into psychic force and inner strength. He stood tall. “I like that name.”

Sang Sang flicked her wrist, tossing the scroll into the air. The small, delicate painting unfurled in the wind, swelling in the blink of an eye to a mountainous canvas. As it opened fully, the entire space was overtaken by the scene within. The Heavenly Emperor was cast onto a battlefield of gods, his diminutive figure like an ant, swaying amid the violent clashes of divine energies.

“How fascinating—infusing space into the painting. Sang Sang’s illusions are more potent than ever. These wills of the gods are even more interesting—they weigh down the body and erode the mind. I enjoy the killing, but I don’t like being manipulated into mindless slaughter…”

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