Chapter Sixty-Six: Virgin?

After carefully reviewing the information on the Ninth Continent, Zhou Tian finally realized that the place was utter chaos. The Ninth Continent was the remnant left behind after the Ancient Divine Realm was shattered in battle. The indigenous people left behind called it the Land Forsaken by the Gods.

The Ancient Divine Realm had taken a very unique path, cultivating through the power of human spirit. Numerous Divine Kings sat high above the clouds, basking in the worship of all beings. When Zhou Tian saw this peculiar cultivation method, a single word instantly flashed through his mind: “faith.”

This path was indeed reminiscent of the faith-based deification he’d read about in many articles from his previous life, though there were significant differences as well. In the Divine Realm, faith was not a double-edged sword; believers’ devotion could be wholly converted into personal power. Even if a god lost all their followers, they would only lose the energy to grow stronger, not their existing strength.

This path was fundamentally different from those practiced in the other continents. Integration was impossible—imagine, after absorbing spiritual energy for countless years, you’re suddenly forbidden to do so, expected instead to prostrate yourself before another and make them your god. Wouldn’t that turn the world upside down?

Moreover, the faith path wasn’t any stronger than the others. The Divine Realm had become the main battlefield for the eight other continents’ invasion, and was directly shattered. The “Heavenly Mechanism” could not be reformed, so no one bothered to pay the price to restore or develop the place, leading to the current state of utter chaos.

The other eight continents paid no heed to the Ninth Continent, so it became a haven for fugitives. Though the Land Forsaken by the Gods was nearly torn apart in the past, its external space rendered extremely fragile and beset by spatial storms, the other continents still didn’t care to restore it, as that would come at a high cost. While it was impossible to construct teleportation arrays, countless people still flooded in every year, only for most to perish in the spatial turbulence.

There were three main forces in the Ninth Continent: the remaining residents of the Divine Realm, the wanderers—mostly fugitives—and the garrisons dispatched from the other eight continents.

By the time Zhou Tian had finished poring over the detailed information about the Ninth Continent, dusk had already fallen. Zhou Yi had returned from the imperial palace. From his words, Zhou Tian learned the date was set for half a month later. After factoring in preparations and miscellaneous affairs, their official departure would be in one week.

Zhou Tian opened his Immortality System. It had been a long time since the last log update. Those who had tried to attack him via soul arts had vanished without a trace, making Zhou Tian sigh at their lack of persistence whenever he had a free moment.

But he no longer needed to pin his hopes on these people. The time to rack up death counts was near.

…

The next day, Zhou Tian slept until noon before crawling out of bed. After lunch, he readied his carriage and made for the Free Prince’s Residence.

There was nothing to do at home, so why not visit Zhou Zui for some fun?

Arriving at the Free Prince’s Residence, Zhou Tian had thought Zhou Zui would be at the Dance Pavilion. If not for the competition just the day before, hinting there was a chance Zhou Zui would be home, Zhou Tian would have gone straight to the pavilion.

“I want to go out too, but after soaking in the Spirit Origin Pool yesterday, my father absolutely refuses to let me leave. It’s unbearable…” In the drawing room, Zhou Zui slumped in his chair, looking as if he’d lost all will to live.

“You’re a real scoundrel. Liu Yan gave up her match for you just yesterday, and today you’re already thinking about going to the Dance Pavilion!” Zhou Tian scolded him righteously from the moral high ground.

“It’s complicated!” Zhou Zui’s face was a study in unspeakable distress.

“What’s so complicated? Always talking in riddles,” Zhou Tian grumbled, exasperated by his evasions. It was clear Zhou Zui simply didn’t want to talk—what was the point of all this pretense?

“I’m warning you, you’re the one forcing my hand!” A chilling smile crept across Zhou Tian’s face.

“What are you going to do?” Zhou Zui grew visibly uneasy. This was his own stronghold, yet he felt no sense of security at all.

“Speak the truth!” Zhou Tian employed his death-empowered Divine Word on Zhou Zui.

Zhou Zui stared in disbelief—was this divine ability really so effective?

Zhou Tian himself wasn’t sure if it would work. He’d been pondering this for a long time, but hadn’t had the chance to test it. The last use had been on cooldown, but now it had just reset—perfect for an experiment. If such commands worked, there would be much to explore in the future.

“What’s your name?” Zhou Tian tried.

Zhou Zui resisted, shaking his head vigorously, but his mouth answered against his will, “Zhou Zui.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen, turning eighteen by traditional count.”

The effect seemed promising. Zhou Tian stroked his chin.

“Do you like Liu Yan?”

“Big brother, I—like her…” Zhou Zui tried to beg for mercy, but the answer escaped his mouth anyway.

Zhou Tian grinned, pleased with himself.

“Then why haven’t you made a move?”

“Because I’m cultivating the Sacred Art of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires!”

“How does that work?” Zhou Tian had heard of this art at court—it sounded formidable, but what did it have to do with pursuing Liu Yan?

“To cultivate, I must go to the Dance Pavilion!” Zhou Zui’s expression changed dramatically. He was no longer merely incredulous at Zhou Tian’s divine ability—now he was genuinely alarmed, as if this question had struck a nerve.

Zhou Tian perked up, sensing he’d stumbled on a secret.

“What do you do at the Dance Pavilion?”

“Practice the Sacred Art of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires!”

“How exactly do you practice it?”

“Through emotions… and desire…” Zhou Zui launched into a barrage of technical jargon, not a word of which Zhou Tian understood.

“Stop, stop…” Zhou Tian’s head throbbed from the explanation and he hastily called a halt.

Zhou Zui’s expression eased slightly. He was compelled to speak the truth, but there was leeway—he could answer simply, or drown the explanation in complex terms. Both were truthful.

Zhou Tian pinched his chin. He couldn’t ask questions like that.

“Do you need to… mate with those young ladies?” After a long silence, Zhou Tian finally asked, trying to sound as refined as possible.

Zhou Zui’s face flushed crimson—mate? Was that a term used for people? But he answered honestly, “No…”

“No?!” Zhou Tian was astonished. An unbelievable thought flashed through his mind and he asked, “Are you still a virgin?”

Zhou Zui turned deathly pale, collapsing in his chair like a deflated balloon, and replied feebly, “Yes…”

Zhou Tian’s eyes widened in disbelief. The notorious playboy of the capital, a man who could hole up in the Dance Pavilion for a month, rumored to have achieved the feat of bedding a hundred women… was actually a virgin?