Chapter 64

From the very first day that Ruan Xuezong went missing, the entire Jianghu Game forum exploded.

【Western Regions mega plot special: “In Search of Zongzong” is live! Daily check-in: Has Ruan Xuezong been found yet today? Is he hungry? Thirsty? Without players hand-feeding him and waiting on him, poor Zongzong must be covered in dust by now!】

In the minds of many netizens, Ruan Xuezong was probably not faring well. After all, the desert was no picnic, and he was just an ordinary mortal with flesh and blood.

Every day, people flooded the forum to check on the progress. Had they found Ruan Xuezong? The answer was always no. Some even joked that the players who lost the protagonist were legends in their own right.

The players blew up, venting their frustrations left and right. “Try getting spiraled into the sky by a sandstorm, you casuals!”

“We had zero control over our bodies or actions. Losing health was a matter of seconds. Only Zongzong could ride the wind—normal players running into it were just asking to die.”

“I didn’t believe the hype at first, but then I escorted a merchant caravan to Dunhuang. Sandstorm hit, and boom—me, the cart, all yeeted into the sky. Woke up at respawn. My cargo worth two hundred silver taels? [waves goodbye manually]”

“This Western Regions trip was wild, but my horse and camel are toast.”

“AAAAA, heard there are tons of BOSSes out here, but the real big bad feels like the sandstorms! No wonder all the NPCs pack up and bail when the wind kicks up.”

“Chill, guys. The sandstorm that snatched the protagonist? Can’t be simple. I just dropped a Western Regions journal off some exotic-looking NPC. It says the locals worship Buddhism but also shamans who revere nature’s forces—frost, rain, thunder, gales. Shows how OP ancient Earth’s elements were!”

As the players kept piling on the thread, a pinned update dropped—

“Ruan Xuezong sighting update! Spotted in a town near the West Continent border—he left a little white flag there! Poor Zongzong, he must’ve suffered so much. Everyone, go find him!”

Where was the West Continent?

A massive horde of players whipped out their world maps and charged toward it.

The Little West Continent lay in the northwest of the Gobi Desert’s yellow sands, dotted with countless towns. When Ruan Xuezong rode there on horseback, meandering along, he noticed the sunlight was brutally intense. Rumor had it no fresh, juicy grape could survive half a day there without turning into a raisin.

Ruan Xuezong tested his luck, but after just half an hour under that blaze, his cheeks burned fiery red. He had no choice but to don his veil hat for wind and sun protection.

From Zaren’s explanation, Ruan Xuezong learned that the West Continent teemed with demonic sect forces, all trending toward unification in recent years.

Ruan Xuezong wondered aloud, “Why call it the West Continent when there’s no water anywhere?” If there’d been even a single river nearby, he wouldn’t have asked. As an outlander full of curiosity, he couldn’t help himself.

Zaren didn’t have an answer. He only knew the West Continent had been renamed sometime in the last twenty or thirty years. When the king decided on a name, who among the Western Regions folk would dare object?

“It’s a long story,” Li Yu Heng said. He’d been smiling silently until then, but at the question, his green eyes deepened in hue. In a light, joking tone, he spun a tale.

“There was once a kingdom called the Yong Kingdom in the West Continent. Its ruler was a queen with striking green eyes and seventy thousand fierce, battle-hardened elite soldiers under her command. Her greatest ambition was to swallow up the neighboring states and dominate the Western Regions alone. At her peak, she sent half her elites to press the adjacent kings—some dropped dead, others submitted. They had no choice but to swear eternal loyalty to her…”

Ruan Xuezong listened raptly. “And then?”

He knew the Thirty-Six Countries of the Western Regions was just a loose term. In truth, this vast, sparse, resource-poor land hosted far more than thirty-six states—some said forty-eight, others over fifty. Changes happened too fast to count.

The endless strife in the Western Regions today proved the queen’s ambitions had fallen short.

“Her ambitions only half-succeeded because she met her one weakness: a young merchant from the Central Plains. He became her lover, and his favorite tune was ‘West Continent Melody.’ That’s how the West Continent got its name.”

The south wind knows my heart, wafting dreams to the West Continent.

The Western Regions weren’t just golden deserts and illusory mirages or enigmatic treasures—they brimmed with romantic tales too. Ruan Xuezong figured this love story likely ended in tragedy. Otherwise, why would a queen’s dreams fizzle halfway? Still, as an outsider, he couldn’t pry into the details.

He changed the subject. “You know the Yong queen’s saga like the back of your hand. So what brings you here?”

“Are all Central Plains folk as sharp as you?” Li Yu Heng’s smile was warm and genuine as he praised him. Then he paused and added, “Would you come back to my kingdom as my guest? I’d treat you as an honored guest.”

At those words, goosebumps erupted all over Zaren’s skin. He desperately wanted to warn Ruan Xuezong: Run! Or you’ll end up like the last Central Plains guy! Most in the Western Regions knew the fate of that forcibly seized merchant—tossed into White Bone Gully by the queen.

What was White Bone Gully?

Deep in the desert lay a narrow pass overgrown with thorny brambles amid tangled human and beast skulls, echoing with wild wolf howls. In ancient times, the Western kingdoms banished criminals there—shackled and chained, left to fend for themselves.

Those exiled there had no food or water. Survival was up to fate.

Seeing Zaren’s trembling gaze and Ruan Xuezong’s oblivious calm, Li Yu Heng—as a young king—saw something special in this Central Plains man. He didn’t believe he’d follow his mother’s path to self-destruction.

Ruan Xuezong remained utterly unfazed.

He knew the Western Regions hid tigers and dragons aplenty, but his luck couldn’t be so rotten as to bump into a BOSS-level figure at random. He’d memorized the Western Regions BOSS list backward and forward—no Li surnames there. Worst case, he’d throw hands.

After entering the Little West Continent, Ruan Xuezong stayed two days in the Yong Kingdom’s royal city.

Contrary to what players imagined, he suffered not a bit. In the royal city, he dined on exquisite dishes, sipped grape wine, and watched exotic dances.

The dancers wore gossamer veils, golden bells tinkling on wrists and ankles with every graceful sway. Spinning, they were as elegant as peacocks, their silky gazes seducing to please the king and his guest. The court musicians were masterful too, their foreign flair so unlike Jiangnan’s that Ruan Xuezong couldn’t look away.

“I am this kingdom’s king. If you wish, I could have you enjoy song and dance day and night. Would you stay?” Li Yu Heng said slowly. Over these two days, he’d shown Ruan Xuezong every treasure, delicacy, and delicacy, confident he’d maxed out goodwill with this Central Plains man. But before Zaren could translate or Ruan Xuezong reply, shouts of battle erupted.

His brows furrowed in displeasure. “What’s going on?”

A Yong Kingdom guard stumbled in, frantic. “Your Majesty, a mob of rabble just showed up outside!” As he spoke, sunlight dimmed overhead. Dancers and musicians gasped, heads snapping up—only to see not a sandstorm, but a swarm of young wanderers with martial prowess. They numbered in the dozens, soaring on lightfoot skills that kicked up dust storms, landing to fill every corner of the palace hall. Faces alight with fervor, they had one target.

“Zongzong, we’re here to save you! You okay!?”

“AAAAA hubby I missed you so much! Days apart feel like seasons!”

“Strategy squad boss nailed it—said Zongzong might be in the West Continent, and boom, here he is!”

“Shit, so many guards. Is Zongzong trapped? Wait, three question marks—demonic sect BOSS right in front of us? How we beating this??”

Ruan Xuezong: “Pfft—”

Hearing the players, he spat out his grape wine, most of it staining the fine floor. Shocked, he looked up at the dais.

Once the players arrived, the 007 System’s privileges reactivated, sharing his panel. He saw the Yong Kingdom Lord’s chiseled features topped with a genuine “???”.

Three question marks meant unfathomable power—beyond any ordinary king.

Ruan Xuezong’s mind raced, instantly pegging the man.

Among Western Regions BOSSes, only one fit the mixed-blood look: Yan Rong, leader of the West Continent Guard and final boss of the Western Region Demonic Cult dungeon. The Little West Continent was a rising demonic power; in the original plot, no one knew its shadowy master, only that they rallied refugees, bandits, and thugs to choke trade routes, dominating the Western Regions—he even swayed kings’ successions. A figure to fear.

Players came with built-in language voice packs.

As a demonic sect BOSS, Li Yu Heng’s first reaction was a frown as he asked the sweating Zaren, “What do these rabble mean by ‘hubby’? Didn’t you say he wasn’t married in the Central Plains?”

Before an answer, a crushing pressure hit. His face hardened as he glared at the doors. “When did my Yong Royal Palace become an open house?”

“Hand him over.” From the shadows emerged a chilling voice. Qi Hongxin’s frost-cold face materialized in the flickering light, his demon blade humming with battle lust, heart-stopping from the moment he appeared.

Ruan Xuezong: “…”

The players coming for him was one thing—why bring the whole family?

Most Yong Kingdom soldiers were experts, but even they recoiled from Qi Hongxin’s terrifying aura, faces paling. “Y-Your Majesty, that blade-wielder’s a half-step grandmaster!”

“And who is this?” The demonic sect BOSS arched a brow.

Ruan Xuezong calmly introduced, “He’s here to kill me.”

With players present, he pulled up his system panel and downloaded a multi-gig Western Regions language voice pack—complete with translation.

Li Yu Heng scoffed at the words, setting down his wine cup. His green eyes darkened. “Daring to enter Yong Kingdom territory to kill my man? First time I’ve seen such arrogance from an outsider.”

The players were dumbfounded. “??? Did I go deaf?”

“Me too. ‘Your man’??”

“What the hell happened to Zongzong these past days?” No one was around to ease their shock and confusion.

Qi Hongxin frowned almost imperceptibly at the title, shooting Ruan Xuezong a blank look before fixing cold eyes on Li Yu Heng. “If you protect him, I’ll kill you first—then take him alive.”

With that threat dropped, he wasted no more words. His demon blade surged, murderous intent like storm clouds over a city. Li Yu Heng’s face didn’t twitch—he smashed his cup and charged.

The clash of two half-step grandmasters rocked the royal city. Moves flew like gale-force winds and torrents, slashing vicious scars across palace walls. Dust devils and sky-darkening fury barely captured it—the world itself seemed to shift, delivering jaw-dropping visuals. Players gawked, some trying to record the spectacle, but up close, screams rang out as they scattered to respawn points.

Ruan Xuezong: “…”

He set down his emerald wine cup, unleashed his movement technique, and drifted away.