Chapter 172: Understanding Only Years Later
Bie Yanghong was severely injured, his movements very slow. Chen Changsheng could easily have dodged, but he did not, because he trusted the other man.
Wujiong Bi watched the scene, seemingly shocked by something she realized, and wanted to stop it but recalled Bie Yanghong’s earlier words, ultimately not daring to.
A warm, mellow breath, like fine wine, flowed from Bie Yanghong’s fingertip into Chen Changsheng’s brow, then poured in.
The Sea of Consciousness lay just beneath the brow; otherwise, Nanke’s eyes would not have been forced farther and farther apart.
Countless rays of light illuminated Chen Changsheng’s dark Sea of Consciousness, then transformed into countless images.
Those were images of Bie Yanghong battling the two Saint Light Angels on the cliff platform and in the sky.
Those images were very clear, vivid, as if before his very eyes, utterly real.
Among them, the first-person perspective images allowed him, from Bie Yanghong’s standpoint, to personally experience and perceive everything that had happened at the time.
He saw Mu Jiushi, her face full of fear as she fled, and saw Madam Mu, calm and dignified.
There was a tree by the cliff; a breeze stirred the tree’s shadow, which became the corner of a black robe.
In the sky were clouds; from within the clouds, light descended upon the world, containing two powerful beings from a foreign continent.
They had pure white wings, were genderless, and radiated holy, sacred light and an immensely powerful aura, impossible to look at directly, appearing extremely proud.
But in truth, they possessed no positive or negative human emotions; between their brows was a detachment that transcended the mortal world.
In a sense, they were perfect.
Were they the angels of the Saint Light Continent?
Chen Changsheng also heard their voices.
They should have been speaking the language of the Saint Light Continent, with strange and complex tones.
Because these images were manifestations of Bie Yanghong’s divine sense, their voices were not, as in the actual event, transformed by a gentle breeze into the language of this continent.
Chen Changsheng still understood some of it.
The language of the Saint Light Continent was somewhat similar to the Dragon race’s language.
Back when he recited the last volume of the Three Thousand Daoist Canons in the old temple of Xining Town, he had become very familiar with the Dragon language. More importantly, he had learned it for a long time under the North New Bridge with Zhi Zhi.
—A person who stole the source of fire? What did that mean?
As he pondered this question, the two angels of the Saint Light Continent launched their attack.
A straight beam of light appeared before his eyes, splitting the sky into two parts.
As that beam of light defied the principles of heaven and earth, bending back and falling from another angle.
The two angels’ attacks grew faster, the light faster, and the sky was gradually cut into countless fine fragments.
Countless marvelous attack methods emerged endlessly, with unimaginable angles of attack appearing continuously.
Even at Chen Changsheng’s level of cultivation, it became increasingly difficult to see all the details clearly, but he still perceived much from them.
That was the real experience and wisdom of battling the two angels—the trajectory of the red flower illuminating the sky and severing the light, the traces left by that fist that shattered the clouds and ignored the principles of heaven and earth. All of it entered his Sea of Consciousness through Bie Yanghong’s fingertip.
As time passed, those beams of light grew denser, intersecting, gradually forming a blazing white.
With a roar, it sounded in Chen Changsheng’s Sea of Consciousness.
Countless great waves arose, ceaselessly battering the invisible yet bounded embankment.
Chen Changsheng woke up, feeling no discomfort except a faint ache in his Sea of Consciousness.
Then he felt hot—more precisely, the surface of his body was scorching.
He looked inward and found that in his Nether Mansion, all paths were open, and the Starry Snowfield was burning.
The fire was not particularly fierce, but the surface of the vast snowfield was ablaze, with azure flames spreading to the farthest reaches.
Bie Yanghong’s finger left his brow, but the experience of that battle, and more importantly, the insights and wisdom of a Saint Realm powerhouse regarding the principles of heaven and earth, along with the fierce battle intent—even killing intent—faced against those two Saint Light Continent angels, all remained in his Sea of Consciousness.
Without a doubt, this was Chen Changsheng’s best state since the myriad swords turning into dragons in the Zhou Garden.
The hundreds of swords quietly suspended outside the house sensed his change; their blades trembled slightly, emitting a low hum.
The entire White Emperor City felt a powerful, stern sword intent.
The priests and Bear tribe warriors in the streets instinctively retreated farther away.
After an unknown length of time, Chen Changsheng opened his eyes, suppressing that battle intent, and the stern sword intent enveloping the small courtyard also subsided.
He knew that on the long path of cultivation ahead, the wisdom Bie Yanghong had left in his Sea of Consciousness would help him avoid many detours, and if he encountered strong enemies from the Saint Light Continent, the experience and battle intent in his Sea of Consciousness would help him gain more power.
Bie Yanghong glanced at the unconscious Xuanyuan Po and said, “The set of boxing techniques I used against those two, I once mentioned to him. If he is still interested or has questions about this path in the future, please ask His Holiness the Pope to guide him on my behalf.”
He liked this Bear tribe youth very much, felt a connection with him, and since the couple had received favors, he had offered guidance yesterday.
He had originally planned to truly teach this set of boxing techniques to Xuanyuan Po today, but now it seemed he could only entrust it to Chen Changsheng.
Chen Changsheng said, “He is already a member of the National Academy. Please rest assured, Senior.”
In those images, he had seen the appearances and fighting styles of the two angels, but he still had many questions.
Especially the holy light the two angels had spread—it was too familiar to him.
His own flesh and blood were filled with this kind of holy light.
Was this the origin of that foreign continent’s name?
Regarding the distant and mysterious Saint Light Continent, even the Three Thousand Daoist Canons had few records, only mentioning it in a few very ancient texts under the guise of mythology.
Chen Changsheng had read through the canons extensively since childhood, devouring books. He might have been born on the Saint Light Continent, but in the first ten-plus years of his life, he had no knowledge of it.
At the very beginning, he didn’t even know the Saint Light Continent existed.
It wasn’t until Su Li left with the Southern Saintess, and he and Xu Yourong discussed the possible destination of those two elders on the Bridge of Helplessness, that he first had this concept. And it wasn’t until the incident at the Heavenly Book Mausoleum, when he saw that monk through Tianhai Shenghou’s eyes, that he confirmed the Saint Light Continent truly existed.
—The remnants had truly fled there, and beneath the starry sky over there, there were also countless strong warriors.
Then came the night on Snow Ridge.
That great Demon Lord who once nearly dominated the continent died under a pillar of light from beyond the stars.
That pillar of light shook the entire continent and filled Chen Changsheng with extreme vigilance and unease.
He had not forgotten what Tianhai Shenghou did before she died.
She burned her final divine soul, severely wounding the monk by the Xining Stream, caring nothing that her own legacy was completely severed.
At the time, no one understood why she did that.
Now, Chen Changsheng understood. (To be continued.)