Chapter 32: The Key to the Black Coffin
Are you very angry? That’s only natural.
A girl so kind, so serene, like fresh rain in an empty mountain—betrothed to such a shameless man—anyone would find it a waste of heaven’s gifts, a pearl cast into darkness, and be utterly furious. But for Chen Changsheng… this was actually a good thing. Because of the war with the demon race, the human world, much like the Xiu Ling tribe, placed great importance on marriage and betrothal. There were many young people like him and her who were bound by marriage contracts, and just as she had said earlier, a betrothal was the most respected form of contract. Unless there were special circumstances, it was very difficult to dissolve. Fortunately, both he and she had encountered unworthy partners.
That statement sounded a bit odd, but it made sense. Precisely because their betrothed were so terrible, there was both the motivation and the reason to break the engagement. What had seemed like a very troublesome problem was thus resolved with ease, and Chen Changsheng immediately felt much lighter. He decided to press his advantage and solve the final problem as well.
He looked into her eyes and said, “At this point, I can no longer hide it from you. Actually, I…”
The black line seemed far away on the horizon, but it wouldn’t take long before it reached the mausoleum. The beast tide would bring death, and the time left for them in this world was already very short. In the final moments of life, to suddenly feel one’s heart stir—this was a very sorrowful thing, yet also a very fortunate one. He was about to tell her that he was Chen Changsheng.
He believed that his name was known throughout the entire continent, and even the Xiu Ling tribe, far away in the demon domain, should have heard of it.
Xu Yourong didn’t know he was about to reveal his true name. She thought he was a disciple of the Snow Mountain Sect named Xu Sheng. Seeing him hesitate, on the verge of speaking, with a slightly nervous expression, she too became nervous.
She thought he was about to confess his feelings.
Instinctively, she didn’t want to hear it, and she mentally prepared herself to refuse if he actually said it.
Only… she didn’t want to refuse. If he said he liked her, what should she do? Her thoughts grew chaotic, and then she felt she was being very strange. She had always devoted herself to cultivation—why, on the brink of death, was she thinking about such trivial matters? Then, these strange thoughts suddenly vanished without a trace, leaving only calmness.
There were many reasons and purposes for cultivation. Some sought power, others sought to explore more unknowns in pursuit of spiritual peace, but for the vast majority, cultivation was about life and death. To not fear life and death, and then to transcend them. Why? Because between life and death lay great terror, a century of solitude, and eternal sinking. Not long ago, she, still in the prime of her youth, had just walked the line between life and death.
Now, she was in her most tranquil moment, best able to see through the mundane world, best able to understand her own heart. Her Dao heart was spotless, incomparably clear. She looked at Chen Changsheng, waiting for his words to come. Her expression was calm, but in her eyes there was a faint trace of shyness and a smile. That shyness held no annoyance, only a serene joy, because this was the path she sought, the Dao she wished to cultivate.
She was still weak at this moment, but her gaze was extremely clear and extremely resolute. The responsibilities of the world, the historical significance of the union of north and south, the fight against the demon race, the deep affection of her senior brothers, the hopes of her teachers, the shackles of the betrothal, the shadow that that fellow had left on her Dao heart—as long as she was with him, all of it would be blown away by a gentle breeze. She could ignore everything, refuse everything.
Yes, traveling through the Zhou Garden, she had spoken with him many times, mostly about cultivation texts, mountains, rivers, and lakes, rarely touching on each other’s innermost thoughts. They didn’t know each other very well, but she was already very certain that he was the kindred spirit she was looking for, the good friend she needed. On the cliff of Saintess Peak, she had told the white crane that neither a gentleman nor a true person could be the ideal companion to spend the long years of cultivation with. Now, she could be sure that the person she was willing to accompany through those years of cultivation had already appeared.
Yes, this was the path she sought, the Dao she wished to cultivate: the path of togetherness.
To walk together under the stars, to cultivate together, until the end of life.
Yes, the beast tide was drawing closer, death was drawing closer, and life might end at any moment. But precisely because of this, precisely for this reason, she would not deceive her own heart.
The parasol tree, transformed from the longbow, grew at the edge of the stone platform, swaying in the wind. The green leaves rustled gently in the breeze, shaking the dim light into even softer, flowing threads of radiance, as if someone had lit a candle.
Looking into her eyes, Chen Changsheng vaguely understood. His slightly dry lips parted slightly, ready to speak.
Just then, a green leaf suddenly drifted down from the treetop, landing softly on his shoulder, interrupting everything.
The green leaves of the parasol tree fell with the wind, not because autumn had arrived, but because a tremor came from beneath the stone platform.
That tremor seemed to come from the stone platform, from the depths of the distant grassland below, but in reality, it came from Chen Changsheng’s body.
For some reason, his body began to shake violently, his teeth chattering, like a patient suffering from a chill.
Xu Yourong was slightly startled and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Chen Changsheng had no time to answer her. He looked toward the source of the tremor, and his right hand shot out, gripping the sword hilt tightly.
This violent tremor came from the short sword at his waist.
He gripped the hilt tightly, but the short sword continued to tremble, faster and faster, its frequency increasing until the simple patterns on the scabbard’s surface became blurred lines, impossible to discern.
The strength in his hand grew greater and greater, yet he still couldn’t calm the short sword. He felt uneasy, not knowing what was happening.
This was the first time he had encountered such a situation since Yu Ren had given him this short sword.
His divine sense fell upon the hilt, trying to regain control, but it failed. His divine sense followed the hilt deeper, entering that space, and finally discovered the source of the tremor.
Among the scattered medicine bottles, secret manuals, gold, and jewels floating everywhere, a black magical artifact was flying at high speed, smashing everything in its path into dust. As its speed increased, the black artifact grew hotter and brighter, radiating powerful energy and light, as if it were about to become a sun.
This black magical artifact was the Soul Pivot of the White Emperor City, and also the core of Zhou Dufu’s mausoleum.
It seemed to have sensed something from the outside world and suddenly became violent and frenzied (kuangbao).
If Chen Changsheng’s cultivation level were higher, his divine sense stronger, he might have been able to forcibly suppress the raging Soul Pivot by virtue of his ownership of the space. But he lacked that ability now. He couldn’t even calm the Soul Pivot a little. If he continued to try, he would fail no matter how long he persisted, and it was even highly possible that the space itself would suffer severe damage.
With no other choice, he had to give up. He mobilized his divine sense and released the black Soul Pivot.
With a buzzing roar, the black Soul Pivot appeared on the stone platform, blazing with light, illuminating every vein of the green leaves on the parasol tree, releasing an unimaginable pressure that made both Xu Yourong and Chen Changsheng’s breathing difficult. Xu Yourong, in particular, with her injuries unhealed, looked pale and extremely weak.
Fortunately, the Soul Pivot did not stay on the stone platform for long, nor did it attack the two of them. Even more fortunate, and more incomprehensible, was that this Soul Pivot, which should have been enraged by sensing something approaching the Zhou Mausoleum, did not try to break through the green leaves of the parasol tree to meet it. Instead, it turned into a streak of light and flew deeper into the mausoleum.
Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong exchanged a glance, understanding each other’s meaning. He carried her on his back and followed the streak of light, once again entering the mausoleum.
Deep within the mausoleum, it was empty and dim. The huge obsidian coffin lay quietly in the center of the hall, like a mountain.
The black Soul Pivot hovered in the air before the obsidian coffin, motionless, emitting a faint light, like a life lamp.
When Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong returned to the mausoleum, this was the scene they saw.
Vaguely, they also heard some sounds. The sounds were ethereal, faint, as if coming from an abyss or a sea of stars, like the murmur of human voices, or a low, mournful dirge.
Although the sounds from the empty space were indistinct and the melody was not continuous, making it impossible to discern the tune or content, they both felt what the music and voices were trying to convey.
The soul returns.
Chen Changsheng looked at the Soul Pivot before the obsidian coffin, was silent for a moment, and then asked, “Did you hear that?”
Xu Yourong softly hummed in acknowledgment and said, “It’s not an auditory hallucination. It should be the residual aura of some kind of formation.”
“What exactly did it sense? I vaguely feel it’s related to that beast tide,” Chen Changsheng asked.
Before they discovered this black Soul Pivot, and in the time since, it had always been quiet. Yet it suddenly became so violent and frenzied (kuangbao), forcibly leaving Chen Changsheng’s short sword, flying to the black coffin, and triggering the residual aura of these ancient formations. There must have been a specific reason. A sudden change in the state of an isolated object is always related to the outside world.
Xu Yourong thought quietly for a moment and said, “I’ve always suspected that the Soul Wood is in Nanke’s hands. Now it seems it’s true, and she’s getting closer and closer to this mausoleum.”
Earlier, Chen Changsheng had found it very strange. The short sword could isolate the real world from the world within the scabbard, yet the Soul Pivot inside could still sense the aura of the outside world. What kind of connection could penetrate the barrier of space? Now, hearing her words and recalling the phrase “artifact and soul are one” mentioned in the Daoist Canon’s Southern Flower Record, he finally understood the reason.
That lost Soul Wood was indeed on Nanke. She was leading the beast tide toward the mausoleum from all directions, drawing closer and closer, until that moment just now, when the Soul Pivot finally sensed it.
Artifact and soul are one. A magical artifact like the Soul Pivot, capable of guarding the White Emperor City, could even be called a divine artifact. One could imagine how strong the connection between artifact and soul was. After who knows how many years, the Soul Pivot finally sensed the return of the Soul Wood, so it naturally had a great reaction. But why didn’t the Soul Pivot break through the air and fly away, instead returning to this obsidian coffin?
“The Soul Wood is the key,” Xu Yourong said, her gaze shifting from the Soul Pivot to the obsidian coffin. “Not the key to this mausoleum, but the key to this stone coffin.”