Chapter 38: Brushing Off Snow, Baring Hearts
That day by the lake, when Nan Ke’s two attendants merged into one, Chen Changsheng had no chance at all. He was clearly no match for them and was about to be shaken to death when he barely managed to find a sliver of hope through those silver chests and roasted lamb, then escaped using the yellow paper umbrella. Now, calculating by the time spent in the Never-Setting Sun Grasslands, only a few dozen days had passed since that bloody and treacherous battle. Yet he could now force back the two attendants’ long-prepared combined attack with a single sword strike, even wounding them. How could a cultivator make such tremendous progress in such a short time? What exactly had happened to him?
From this sword strike, it was clear that Chen Changsheng’s realm had not changed at all—he was still at the upper level of Penetrating Obscurity. At the same time, his true essence was still much less than that of cultivators at the same level. The sword technique was certainly exquisite, but the biggest difference was that his true essence had somehow become extraordinarily cold, condensing a large patch of snowflakes purely through the momentum of his sword.
Even this… was not the most important change. The most important change was in his sword intent. His sword intent was now incredibly condensed, having become tangible.
One must know that intent follows the heart. How could his sword heart have become so perfectly clear and rounded in just a few dozen days?
The shock lasted only an instant, and there was no time for deeper thought in the midst of battle. With the sound of high-frequency vibrations from their light wings, the two attendants transformed into a streak of light and once again attacked the stone platform.
At the edge of the stone platform, a bright sword light illuminated the surrounding space. The sword light appeared so suddenly, blazing white like a flash of lightning.
*Ssshhh*—the sound of the sword edge cutting through the air arose.
That streak of light came to a halt, then rapidly retreated, dissolving into countless specks of light in the air dozens of zhang away before vanishing completely.
It was still the National Academy’s Inverted Mountain Staff technique. The sword momentum was still cold and clear, the sword intent still condensed, the sword heart still so perfectly clear and rounded, unimaginably pure.
Chen Changsheng held his sword before him, his face showing no joy, nor any pride at the sudden dissipation of those light wings. Instead, he became even more vigilant.
Because he knew very well that although his sword intent had greatly improved, and the first strike could unexpectedly wound the two attendants, this second strike should not have had such a perfect effect. The lightning-like sword light had only wounded the woman named Ning Qiu on her left shoulder, not seriously injuring her. It naturally could not have scattered her light wings.
The reason the light wings dissipated into countless specks of light was that someone had confirmed the two attendants were no match for him and didn’t want them to waste any more time.
His gaze followed the drifting specks of light to the end of the divine path, thousands of zhang away, to the ground before the tomb. Then he saw that ten-year-old girl.
The specks of light drifted onto her body, all absorbed without a trace. Her expression did not change at all, because she had never shown any expression from start to finish.
Nan Ke looked at the end of the divine path, thousands of zhang away, at the young human man and woman on the stone platform, and said nothing.
According to her calculations and deductions, Xu Yourong had been fleeing all the way. After killing those demonic beasts in the early stages, the True Phoenix Blood should have been exhausted. Now, only the poisonous blood she had planted should remain inside her body. Logically speaking, even if she could hold out until reaching this tomb, she should already be dead by now. So why was she still alive? But this didn’t matter. Clearly, she was already weak and unable to fight. Although this destined duel could not be called her victory, death was the fairest judge. Xu Yourong would die, and she would live—that was enough. The problem lay with that young man named Chen Changsheng…
Her teacher, Black Robe, had not told her the complete plan for the Garden of Zhou. Naturally, she was even more unaware that, because of the yellow paper umbrella and other reasons, Black Robe had not had time to convey the final decision to her. She had always believed that Chen Changsheng, like Qi Jian and Zhe Xiu, was a target she must kill. But now it seemed he was not as easy to kill as she had imagined.
She was not unfamiliar with the name Chen Changsheng. It was not because he had won first place in the human Grand Examination, nor because he had read all the stele inscriptions at the Mausoleum of the Former Emperor in one night, nor because he was the youngest dean of the National Academy in history. It was because he was Xu Yourong’s fiancé. She had not expected that, fleeing through the grasslands all the way, this human youth could actually heal his injuries. And although his realm had not improved, compared to the performance in the battle a few dozen days ago that the two attendants had carefully described, his sword intent and combat ability had clearly undergone a qualitative leap.
What had happened in the grasslands? Or had this change occurred only after they entered this tomb?
At this thought, her mood became even worse. Of course, no matter how miraculous Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong’s encounters might be, she could still easily kill them by commanding the beast tide to attack through the Soulwood Cloth. But she did not do so, because the beast tide still maintained a certain natural reverence for this tomb. Forcing them to attack would require too much of her mental energy. More importantly, she did not want this great and sacred tomb to be defiled by these filthy, stinking, utterly stupid demonic beasts. If possible, she was unwilling to let any life other than herself approach this tomb, let alone set foot inside it. If there was truly no other way, she could only reluctantly accept Xu Yourong and… now Chen Changsheng standing on the high platform before the tomb, because in her eyes, although they were enemies, they had sufficiently strong bloodline talents and did not count as defiling this tomb.
Yes, in her eyes, this was a great and sacred tomb.
Because the human buried in this tomb was the object of her greatest admiration in life, even surpassing her teacher, let alone her father, the king.
She had never revealed this thought, and had even deliberately expressed some opposing views in Xuelao City from time to time. Because although the demon race revered the strong, there were not a few demons who privately revered or even fanatically worshipped this human in the tomb. But after all, she was the noble demon princess—how could she worship a human?
Yet she had never deceived her own heart.
She infinitely worshipped the human man buried in this tomb.
In Xuelao City, in the demon domain, her father was as powerful as the night sky. Only that man had once torn a corner from that night sky.
Looking past and future, gazing across the continent and the seas, as long as it was beneath the starry sky, that man was always the most powerful individual. In her eyes, such a strong person deserved the reverence of all life. Moreover, her sect had countless secret connections with that man, connections that had long become the greatest glory deep within her heart.
Today, she had finally arrived before this tomb.
Compared to this matter itself, the dignity of the demon princess and her father’s cold attitude toward her were utterly unimportant.
With such feelings, Nan Ke walked along the divine path toward this tomb.
The divine path was thousands of zhang long. With her realm and cultivation, she could cross it in an instant. But to show respect for the person buried in the tomb, she did not do so. Her steps were light, but her attitude was extremely cautious. She walked very slowly, her demeanor solemn, as if on a pilgrimage.
As she walked, hundreds of emerald tail feathers slowly grew behind her, then began to flutter in the wind, beautiful and enchanting beyond words. The sun at the edge of the grasslands had already become a blurry ball of light. Night had not yet fallen, but the darkness was deepening. Walking on the divine path, illuminated by the last twilight, she grew brighter and brighter, as if burning.
Watching this scene, Xu Yourong’s eyes also brightened, then dimmed. Because no matter how much she wanted to fight Nan Ke in this state, she no longer had the strength. Chen Changsheng’s eyes did not become brighter, because his eyes were always this bright, just as Nan Ke’s expression would never change, because she never had any expression.
As Tang Thirty-Six put it, his eyes were like two mirrors, dazzlingly bright, often making people’s hearts uneasy.
Like Xu Yourong, he clearly sensed that through this pilgrimage-like, cautious walk along the divine path, Nan Ke had adjusted her realm and state to near perfection, displaying unimaginable power. But unlike Xu Yourong, he did not feel any battle intent. He had no desire to fight Nan Ke in this state at all.
This was the biggest difference between him and peerless geniuses like Xu Yourong and Nan Ke. He never fought for the sake of fighting, never sought victory for the sake of winning. When he did these things, it was usually for only one reason: to stay alive. For the sake of living, he believed this was the most sacred reason, or meaning. So he didn’t need to adjust, didn’t need to meditate, didn’t need to make pilgrimages, and certainly didn’t need to bathe, burn incense, or fast for three days. When he was forced to start fighting, he was already prepared.
But today, his state didn’t seem to be perfect.
This was very likely the last battle of his life. He had no confidence at all, but that wasn’t the problem. Because he had already won too many battles that had no reason to be won. The problem was that, when he should have been fully focused on this battle, he was somewhat distracted, always feeling that there was something unfinished.
By now, Nan Ke had reached the last section of the divine path, still over a hundred zhang away from him.
In the end, he couldn’t hold back. He turned to look at Xu Yourong.
“What’s wrong?” Xu Yourong asked.
Chen Changsheng looked at her face, wanting to reach out and touch it, but didn’t dare.
Xu Yourong raised her injured, weak hand and gently patted his shoulder, as if brushing off the snowflakes on his clothes.
Those few snowflakes had long since melted.
Chen Changsheng was satisfied. Looking into her eyes, he said very seriously, “If we can leave the Garden of Zhou alive, I will definitely come find you.”
Xu Yourong looked into his eyes, suppressing her shyness, and pretended to be calm as she said, “No need. I will come find you.”
“Good.” Chen Changsheng had never answered so quickly.
If Nan Ke had abandoned her pilgrimage-like posture and attacked suddenly at this moment, he and Xu Yourong might already be dead.
Fortunately, Nan Ke did not do so.
Having done this, there was finally nothing left to distract him.
Chen Changsheng looked at the young girl slowly approaching on the divine path, calm and focused.
As countless people had said before, cultivation was never a fair matter. Although he had read through the Daoist canon since childhood and had an unusual physique, reaching the upper level of Penetrating Obscurity at fifteen, the gap in bloodline talent was not so easily bridged, let alone the black ocean of the beast tide surrounding the tomb.
This was a battle with no hope of survival.
But he was still so calm, displaying a composure and ease far beyond his age. If one only looked at his back, he now had the bearing of a master of the sword.
The reason he had been able to force back the powerful enemy with a single sword strike earlier was that his sword heart was now different from before. During this long escape through the grasslands, over several dozen days, the thing he and Xu Yourong did most was talk. And what they talked about most was cultivation. From the Rain Temple to the Snow Temple, from the reed thickets of autumn to the grassy islands of summer, they talked about these things constantly. He had talent for cultivation but lacked combat experience. Xu Yourong taught him a great deal. More importantly, her attitude toward cultivation and life—that calmness, that peace, that ease—had greatly influenced him.
This was the Dao heart.
The sword heart was also a part of the Dao heart.
When it came to the clarity of the Dao heart, who among the younger generation of the entire cultivation world could surpass Xu Yourong?
When two swords cross, their edges grow sharper. The same was true for the sword heart.
Now his sword heart was clear and rounded, and his sword intent was naturally powerful, condensed, and pure.
Xu Yourong didn’t know he was only fifteen this year. But looking at his back, her dim eyes brightened once more, as if a withered mountain had finally welcomed a fresh rain.
She left his side, returned to the front of the tomb’s main gate, found a corner that could shelter from rain, snow, and wind, sat down cross-legged, and wrapped the warm hemp cloth around herself.
His attitude toward life had already influenced her a great deal as well.
So she closed her eyes and began to rest.
(Finished for now. Please vote for recommendation tickets on Monday. Thank you for your trouble.)