Chapter 271: The Fate of Past and Present (Part 1)
Zhuang Huan saw that arrow piercing the clouds and recognized it, so he rushed toward the lakeside—and then witnessed this long-planned assassination by the demon race.
Yet from beginning to end, he never appeared, never made a move.
At the very start, he truly hadn’t had time to act. But when Liang Xiaoxiao’s sword first wounded Zhexiu and gravely injured Qijian… he then dared not act.
At that time, though, he still had some courage, because that pair of most powerful demon generals had left.
Chen Changsheng’s ability to hold on for so long was meant to give him courage. Liang Xiaoxiao’s refusal to fully commit to the fight was also a sign of vigilance against him.
To some extent, he had played a role.
The problem was, he could never muster enough courage to rush to the lakeside. And when Chen Changsheng could no longer hold on, all his courage vanished in an instant.
He turned and fled, running away.
This was truly disgraceful.
“I observed the third stele at the Mausoleum of Books and have already broken through to the next realm!”
Zhuang Huan Yu held the sword of the Heavenly Dao Academy in his right hand and a magical artifact in his left, facing Liang Xiaoxiao who blocked his path. His face pale, he said, “I am also in the Thorough Illumination realm! I am not afraid of you!”
He too had once been a young genius on the Azure Cloud Ranking, though his rank was lower than Liang Xiaoxiao’s, he was considered equal to the Seven Laws of the Divine Kingdom in the eyes of the world.
But now, he was disheveled and muddled, with not a trace of that youthful genius left.
Liang Xiaoxiao said, “You may draw your sword.”
Even if a prodigal son truly could turn back more valuable than gold, no one could turn back so quickly.
Even if there were such a thing as knowing shame and then acting bravely, few could see the smallness beneath their own clothes and then find courage again in such a short time.
The sword in Zhuang Huan Yu’s hand trembled, just like his voice. If he could barely hold it, how could he thrust it?
“Do you know who my father is?” Zhuang Huan Yu shouted, losing his composure. “If you dare kill me, you will die too!”
After saying this, he realized that the man before him had even betrayed the demon race, dared to kill the closed-door disciple of the Lishan Sect’s master—how could he possibly intimidate him?
Realizing this, he inexplicably grew furious.
Liang Xiaoxiao’s face was expressionless. He silently thought to himself, then who knows who my father is?
Seeing no reaction, Zhuang Huan Yu grew even more uneasy, his voice trembling as he said, “If you really force me, we might as well die together.”
Having said this, he didn’t raise his sword but lifted the magical artifact in his left hand.
Liang Xiaoxiao’s gaze fell on the artifact, his expression shifting slightly as he recognized it as the Jade Stone, one of the seven great artifacts of the Heavenly Dao Academy!
This discovery surprised him.
If this man had carried such a powerful artifact all along and had joined forces with Chen Changsheng earlier, it might have brought about some unexpected changes.
“I didn’t expect Vice Dean Zhuang to dote on you so much, his son, that he would disregard academy rules and secretly give you such a precious artifact.”
He looked at Zhuang Huan Yu coldly and said, “If this gets out, what do you think the consequences will be?”
Zhuang Huan Yu calmed down a bit and said, “So what? Could it be worse than death?”
Liang Xiaoxiao said, “The clue to the Sword Pond was also found by Vice Dean Zhuang, wasn’t it? He didn’t tell Mao Qiuyu, didn’t report it to the Li Palace, only secretly told you alone—what crime is that? Most importantly, you didn’t go out to help Chen Changsheng earlier—what crime is that? I think, even if you leave the Garden of Zhou, your fate might truly be worse than death.”
Zhuang Huan Yu’s face grew even paler, completely at a loss for words. Liang Xiaoxiao turned back to look at the now completely calm lake. After a moment of silence, he suddenly said, “Chen Changsheng is already dead. Zhexiu and Qijian are certainly dead too. The only one who knows about this is you.”
Zhuang Huan Yu vaguely understood his meaning but found it hard to believe. Moreover… the other’s request truly exceeded what he could accept.
“You want me to be like you?” Two red patches appeared on his pale face, though whether from anger or something else—like shame—was unclear.
Liang Xiaoxiao looked at him calmly and said, “Other than that, what reason do I have to let you go?”
Zhuang Huan Yu’s breathing grew heavy, still for unknown reasons—anger, shame, or tension? After a long time, he asked, somewhat dazed, “Why… is this?”
This question was for himself, and also for Liang Xiaoxiao. Qijian had asked it, Chen Changsheng had asked it. Liang Xiaoxiao had never answered, and now was no exception. He gazed at the last remnants of sunset on the calm lake, thinking to himself, how many whys are there in this world?
…
…
The edge of the Garden of Zhou was a stretch of rolling mountains and hills. Three extremely majestic mountain ranges led to the vast, boundless grasslands in the central region. Mu Yu was the longest and tallest among them, with steep cliffs as smooth as if carved by a knife. On the thousand-zhang-high ridge, there was only a single path, extremely perilous.
The young girl in white sacrificial robes walked along this high and dangerous mountain path. On both sides of her was the sky, as if she were walking through the heavens, her white robes like a slowly drifting cloud.
If she continued forward, she would eventually reach the very front of Mu Yu—the peak from which it got its name. There, she could see the sunset over the grasslands and most of the scenes in the Garden of Zhou. But today, she would first encounter the old man playing the zither and the young girl with indifferent eyes.
She didn’t know that pair was waiting for her. She continued walking toward the sunset.
The Black Dragon flew higher, so it could see her walking on the mountain path and also the one waiting at the path’s end. Its actions had somewhat deviated from Chen Changsheng’s original plan, but it was too late to change course now. It decided to find a way to warn the white-robed girl. But just then, amidst the evening-glow-covered ridges of Mu Yu, a sharp sound of a zither string rang out. The note was exceptionally clear and distant, traveling dozens of li in an instant.
The white-robed girl stopped, tilting her head slightly as if listening. A faint smile appeared on her clear but not particularly beautiful face—not vigilance, but rather appreciation.
The zither music didn’t stop, flowing like a stream, forming a continuous melody. It was a cheerful tune, as if welcoming a guest from afar, or like a hunter celebrating the night’s catch.
If the hunt was bountiful, people would light a great bonfire in the wilderness, hang the food over the fire until it dripped with oil, letting the aroma make the beasts of the night drool.
The Black Dragon instinctively looked toward the vast grasslands. It knew well how many beasts were hidden among those grasses as tall as humans. Then, it saw the edge of the grassland burning—the last light and heat of the setting sun, like a bonfire.
Time passed slowly, but when it crossed the critical point, it was always so sudden. Without any psychological preparation, the sun completely sank below the horizon, and night officially arrived.
The absence of the sun didn’t mean no light, but the sky and earth had dimmed considerably. That vast grassland, which even it couldn’t see the end of, had turned into a dark ocean. Gazing at that grassland-ocean, the Black Dragon let out a soft sigh—a sigh filled with satisfaction and nostalgic thoughts, because it reminded her of her homeland. Darkness didn’t always mean cold. Though she was a Frost Dragon, she also loved warmth. The deep blue, almost black waters of her homeland were warm. The blazing sun made the sea’s temperature as comfortable as bathwater, and the sandy beaches on the islands were like silver filings…
The Holy Empress had stripped away her divine soul, infused it into a jade ruyi, and made her accompany Chen Changsheng on this trip to the Garden of Zhou, so she could report his situation at any time. In a sense, she was still a prisoner. The place of her imprisonment had changed from the underground cave beneath the palace to a small ruyi. The force binding her was no longer an iron chain but the shadow of death. She also had to face emotional lows and the psychological pressure of betrayal. By any measure, this trip was no good assignment. Yet, when she left the capital with Chen Changsheng, she found it an excellent thing. For the first time in hundreds of years, she left that cold, lonely underground world, saw countless landscapes that had become unfamiliar, saw so many humans and demons—once her food—which filled her with immense joy, even making her forget many things. Until now, she finally remembered her homeland.
Are places unreachable all called distant lands? For the dragon race, there was no place in this world they couldn’t reach. Are names that can’t be returned to called home? Yes, can home still be returned to?
She gazed at the dark, ocean-like grasslands, thinking of the distant southern sea that was like a grassland, remembering home, her father, and many things. Then she began to grieve.
Unlike the legends, the dragon race didn’t live in strange caves shrouded by clouds on high mountains. As the most powerful and intelligent life forms, how could they like such dark, damp, cold environments? The dragon race loved coconut breezes, silver beaches, blue seas, sunlight and wind, and palaces.
From this perspective, when any life form evolves to its highest level, there isn’t much difference. The demon race’s obsession with invading the south and wiping out all humans—who knows if this is related.
The dragon race lived in the depths of the Southern Sea, where the waters were warm.
That was also the Black Dragon’s homeland.
As the most noble and powerful bloodline among the dragon race, unlike the Golden Dragons who led the entire race, the Frost Dragons were prouder, with extremely cold temperaments, preferring solitude and never willingly interacting with others. In simpler terms, they were supremely aloof.
Countless years ago, the leader of the dragon race—the Golden Dragon clan—disappeared from the continent for unknown reasons, and the Frost Dragon naturally became the default candidate for dragon clan chief.
Under those circumstances, as long as her father nodded, he would become the dragon clan’s chief. But her father was unwilling. Annoyed, he left the Southern Sea alone and returned to the continent.
…
…
The zither music continued, like a summons, like memories, like the wind over the snowy plains in those years.
The Black Dragon gazed at the dark grasslands, at Mu Yu. Suddenly, for no reason, sorrow welled up within her. Her dragon eyes filled with tears, and a light rain fell over the Garden of Zhou.
At this moment, she was merely a separated soul, far weaker in spiritual intensity than her true body. She was stirred by the zither music’s touch on her long-buried soul, and… she didn’t want to resist.
Because this zither music reminded her of the past, let her see her father after he left home.
Her father was the most powerful Frost Dragon in a thousand years, with darkness deeper than night. With each breath, he could summon ten thousand li of frost and snow swords. His power was unimaginable.
Her father encountered a human.
That human held a blade that seemed capable of splitting the sky.
No matter how powerful her father was, he couldn’t resist that blade.
That blade seemed able to cut through everything before its edge.
Especially since that great battle took place in the Garden of Zhou.
That human was the master of the Garden of Zhou.
That blade truly cut through the sky here. A clear scar appeared on the azure sky.
As time passed, the scar gradually faded, but the grasslands beneath the scar gained many strange phenomena.
The sky was severed. The darkness deeper than night was also cut in two.
Her father fell from the sky, his enormous dragon body transforming into a mountain range.
That mountain range seemed to burn under the setting sun. At its front was a proud peak—the dragon’s head. The grasslands also seemed to burn, the red glow on the grass like dragon bloodstains.
The Black Dragon finally understood what had happened back then, why her father never returned.
Her dragon eyes were full of tears, then suddenly turned cold, turning into snowflakes.
Humans. Indeed, humans.
Shameless humans. Cold-blooded humans.
She looked at the white-robed girl on the solitary mountain path and thought coldly, go die.
…
…
On both sides of the mountain path were cliffs, extremely steep. The bare rock faces looked smooth and even more terrifying. Who knew who had chiseled these stone steps, which could only accommodate one person?
The wind here was much stronger than on the ground, and much colder. Looking down, because the mountain was so high, clouds only gathered between the cliffs but couldn’t form shapes, blown into wisps.
Hearing the lofty, meaningful zither music, the white-robed girl thought of and saw some very worldly things—like cotton candy in a small town, the willow catkins hanging under the small bridge not far from home in spring, and when she first entered the Azure Radiance Thirteen Divisions as a child, she couldn’t get used to the somewhat heavy quilt, kicked it a couple of times, and the quilt broke, with cotton fluff floating everywhere in the dormitory.
Thinking of that memory, she smiled, the corners of her lips lifting. Her ordinary, clear face immediately brightened, even warming the desolate mountain path by several degrees.
Accompanied by the zither music, she continued forward.
On the cliff-top path, there was actually a tree.
She walked to the tree and rested briefly.
Because of the environment, the tree had no green leaves left, only bare branches, harmonizing with the cliffs on both sides, as if about to merge into the mountain. No wonder she hadn’t seen it earlier.
She took a handkerchief from her sleeve and carefully wiped her forehead.
On such a cold mountaintop, even with constant walking, one shouldn’t sweat in principle, especially given her cultivation talent. Yet when she retrieved the handkerchief, it was indeed a bit damp.
Looking at the wet mark on the handkerchief, she shook her head and smiled again.
So she could be nervous too.
Putting away the handkerchief, she quietly leaned against the tree and stopped walking.
…
…
(The next chapter may be a bit late. These are the last few hours of the month. Ze Tian Ji is currently first on the monthly ticket rankings. Thank you all for your love, but the situation is a bit dangerous. The one behind is about to catch up. Please check if you have any monthly tickets left and vote if you can. Thank you, thank you.)