Chapter 1112: Who Can Pacify the Great Sun Tathagata?
That incident occurred several years ago.
Legend has it that there was a Sword Pond in the Zhou Garden, containing countless famous swords from previous generations.
The legend was true. Chen Changsheng discovered the Sword Pond in the Zhou Garden and brought all those countless famous swords back to this world.
Swords with established lineages, like the Zhai Sword, were returned to their respective sects in the name of the Li Palace, but many swords remained.
So, on a very ordinary night, the National Academy held a division of spoils.
Xuan Yuan Po obtained the Mountain and Sea Sword, Zhe Xiu took the Demon Commander's Banner Sword, Luo Luo received an even better gift. Later, Su Moyu asked for a floral sword named Yu Meiren, and even Mo Yu got a Yue Nu Sword from Chen Changsheng.
Tang Thirty-Six did not exchange his sword because his Wenshui Sword was also a famous sword of its generation and, moreover, a symbol of the Tang family.
No one knew that he had actually asked Chen Changsheng for a sword as well. He just didn't keep it by his side. Instead, he inserted it into a tree hollow deep within a secluded, quiet grove of ancient locust trees, and then meticulously camouflaged it with fallen leaves and decaying mud.
Chen Changsheng didn't understand what he was doing.
Tang Thirty-Six said this was nurturing the sword.
Decades or even centuries later, a short, poor student, bullied by his classmates on an ordinary, unremarkable morning, would suddenly hear a southeastern folk tune at a corridor corner, burst into tears, rush into the grove, and keep punching the tree, exchanging physical pain for spiritual solace. Then, he would suddenly discover an ancient famous sword used by a previous generation swordsman falling out of the tree hollow, still attached with a wisp of sword intent. This would instantly stimulate his Nether Mansion to open and all his Qi apertures to ignite...
That was Tang Thirty-Six's description at the time.
He thought this deed would become a legend of the National Academy decades or even centuries later.
He never imagined that just a few years later, this sword would see the light of day again and return to Chen Changsheng's hands.
He had even forgotten the sword's existence.
But now it seemed that this very sword, at the most critical moment, had saved Chen Changsheng's life.
This would also determine the outcome of the conflict between the old and new factions within the Orthodoxy and the court struggle, deciding the continent's direction years later.
In other words, the entire course of history would change because of it.
All thanks to him hiding a sword here back then.
Whether he remembered it or not didn't matter; the sword was ultimately hidden here by him.
What does it mean that every bite and every sip is preordained?
What does it mean that a snake's trail in the grass, a thread of ash, can stretch for a thousand miles?
Every move made has deep meaning; there are no idle moves!
The more Tang Thirty-Six thought about it, the more pleased he became, the more delighted he grew. His laughter became louder, his expression more arrogant.
Chen Changsheng, having figured out the cause and effect of this matter, was also deeply moved despite his surprise.
This feeling of fate being prearranged was like picking up lost time once more.
But Wang Zhice and the others didn't know about that time or that story, so they couldn't understand why Tang Thirty-Six was laughing.
For Shang Xingzhou, Chen Changsheng's smile was far more detestable than the sword itself.
"Relying on a single rusty sword to change everything?"
He looked at Chen Changsheng, his expression indifferent.
The color of his eyes was very pale, like freshly formed ice.
Deep in his pupils, a spark was burning.
He took a deep breath, and a great wind arose in the grove.
The fire, aided by the wind, burned with extreme ferocity, instantly spreading from the deepest part of his eyes to the surface.
His pale eyes suddenly turned the color of magma, looking terrifying and scorching hot.
The gale swayed upwards, blowing away all the clouds above the National Academy. A faint black dot could be seen disappearing with it.
The clouds scattered completely, revealing the true face of the sun.
A breath of energy fell from the sky, or more accurately, descended with the sunlight onto Shang Xingzhou.
This energy was not pure but rather somewhat mixed, yet it didn't diminish its power, only adding a more violent quality.
With the arrival of this energy, the snow on the grove's ground instantly melted.
The temperature within the National Academy seemed to rise sharply.
Shang Xingzhou still stood in his original place, yet he seemed to have ascended into the sky.
His figure appeared immensely tall, giving a feeling of filling heaven and earth.
To Xu Yourong and the others in the distance, he had become the most precipitous mountain in the world.
To Chen Changsheng nearby, he looked more like the White Tiger he had once seen in White Emperor City, which had blotted out half the sky.
Back then, he had seen the White Emperor's divine soul; now, he was seeing Shang Xingzhou himself.
The accumulated water dried up instantly, the water vapor vanished in a flash, and the edges of fallen leaves among the withered, frost-covered grass began to curl.
That violent and scorching energy came from the sun and also from Shang Xingzhou's body, meeting at the boundary between inside and outside.
With a bang, Shang Xingzhou's Daoist robe began to burn. His two sleeves turned into countless butterflies flying away, revealing his bare arms.
The Daoist sleeves were completely burned to ash, and the cuts Chen Changsheng had made with his sword naturally disappeared.
Shang Xingzhou gripped his sword with both hands. The muscles on his arms bulged, like sails taut in the wind or cast-iron statues, giving an unreal feeling, yet they seemed the most real existence, possessing the most vibrant life force.
In a very short time, he seemed to have become hundreds of years younger.
He walked towards Chen Changsheng, not at all like an old man.
...
...
When the clouds dispersed and the sunlight fell, brightening the National Academy by a third, Xu Yourong thought of a certain possibility.
Her expression changed slightly, but she didn't go over, because Chen Changsheng had a sword in his hand, and also because Wang Zhice was there.
Clearly, Wang Zhice had long known this secret, so he showed no reaction.
Perhaps, to those old-timers from back then, this wasn't a secret at all.
Yu Ren stood by the table, leaning on his crutch. His gaze passed through the darkness and the broken wall, landing deep within the grove. No one knew what he was thinking.
Tang Thirty-Six had long stopped laughing. He was shocked speechless, thinking, how is this possible?
...
...
"Burning Sun Art?"
"Burning Sun Art!"
"Who is using the Burning Sun Art! How is it so domineering and authentic! Who is it!"
The change in the atmosphere within the National Academy had already spread to Hundred Flowers Lane, triggering a series of shocked exclamations.
The dozen or so Imperial Princes of the Chen family were especially astonished. It wasn't until they remembered that Chen Changsheng was also a Chen that they calmed down a bit.
They had never regarded Chen Changsheng as family, but he was, after all, of the imperial bloodline. In their minds, it wasn't unimaginable that Chen Changsheng could learn the Burning Sun Art, because they didn't know that Chen Changsheng's Fate Wheel had been destroyed while he was still in his mother's womb.
The Prince of Zhongshan knew this secret, so his expression was somewhat gloomy, though the reason was unclear.
The Prince of Xiang opened his eyes. The spark deep in his pupils flickered and vanished, failing to ignite, quickly returning to stillness.
He knew it wasn't Chen Changsheng, so it could only be Shang Xingzhou.
The problem was, Shang Xingzhou wasn't of the imperial clan. How could he have cultivated the Burning Sun Art?
What exactly was the relationship between Shang Xingzhou and Emperor Taizong?
Suddenly, a fierce light flashed in the Prince of Xiang's eyes. He shouted, "What do you think you're doing?"
Countless metallic scraping sounds rang out from before the National Academy's gate, the sound of Holy Light Crossbows being drawn taut.
The atmosphere became incredibly tense in an instant.
Because at the moment the clouds scattered and the sunlight fell, Wang Po made a move.
-- Raising an eyebrow.