Chapter 552: Joint Cultivation
Don’t do what? Chen Changsheng naturally understood, and after a moment of silence, he nodded.
This broken stele had been severed by Zhou Dufu. The Heavenly Book Stele that originally stood here had been taken away by him and should now be placed in the Zhou Garden. This essentially meant that stele was now most likely on both him and Xu Yourong. The instant he saw the broken stele earlier, an intense longing surged within him—he wanted to see what this Heavenly Book Stele looked like intact.
He wanted to try to see which stone bead on the two of them belonged to this stele and then reattach it…
Xu Yourong didn’t let him do this, because she knew well that if the Heavenly Book Stele returned to its original tomb, it would surely cause heaven and earth to change color, alerting every powerful figure in the world.
“There are a total of eleven Heavenly Book Steles scattered outside.”
He looked toward the peak of the Heavenly Book Mausoleum and said softly, “If the front mausoleum is divided by this broken stele, does that mean this place is split into twelve mausoleums in total?”
The Heavenly Book Mausoleum was a very mysterious place.
That peak seemed incredibly close, yet so far away it appeared to touch the sky.
Both Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong knew that before Zhou Dufu seized these Heavenly Book Steles, the mausoleum didn’t have concepts like the front mausoleum.
Xu Yourong said, “We can ask someone about these matters.”
Chen Changsheng’s expression showed slight surprise as he asked, “Ask whom?”
“I asked Her Majesty, but she refused to say.”
Xu Yourong looked toward a certain spot below the Heavenly Book Mausoleum. “But surely there are others who know.”
Chen Changsheng said, “When do we start?”
Xu Yourong lifted the front of her robe, sat cross-legged on the grass before the stele hut, then reached out her hand, inviting him to sit in the grass to her right.
Her slender fingers, a few feet apart, landed on the remnant of the broken stele. Her strokes moved like the wind, turning into character after character.
She wrote quickly, but between each stroke there was absolutely no break—very clear, just like that sword strike that had broken through wind and snow on the Bridge of Helplessness.
Even a saint who had stepped into the sacred realm could probably only faintly catch a trace or two of the marks left by her fingers, unable to see them completely.
The only one who could clearly see those characters was Chen Changsheng, sitting shoulder to shoulder with her in the grass.
When she finished writing, it was Chen Changsheng’s turn. His fingers were incredibly steady, each stroke as if carved by a knife or chisel.
His fingers cut through the air, stirring up wind. Once the wind scattered, the natural traces vanished, and on the broken stele, nothing could possibly remain.
Yet Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong both stared intently and seriously at that broken stele.
Because they had memorized all those characters just now.
Those characters were both text and images.
Divided into three sections, one hundred and eight forms, combined together, they formed the Two Severing Saber Technique.
Back in the Zhou Garden, when the giant coffin like a black obsidian mountain had opened, they discovered this most famous and most powerful saber technique in the world on the coffin walls.
The saber technique left by Zhou Dufu was incredibly miraculous. The one hundred and eight saber forms seemed like individual techniques, but they were actually a whole. Only by fully mastering all one hundred and eight forms could one truly understand the true meaning of this Two Severing Saber Technique.
At that time, Nanke had brought a beast tide upon them, and they simply didn’t have enough time, so they had to memorize it separately. Xu Yourong memorized it forward, committing thirty-seven forms to memory, while Chen Changsheng memorized it backward, remembering sixty-nine moves. Then, at the very moment their shoulders met and they exchanged a smile, the Two Severing Saber Technique on the coffin walls vanished without a trace!
What did this mean? It meant that only the two of them could bring the Two Severing Saber Technique back into the world.
After leaving the Zhou Garden, they had each tried separately to transcribe these saber techniques, only to be shocked to discover that the method Zhou Dufu used to carve the saber technique on the coffin walls faintly possessed some of the mystery of the Heavenly Book Steles. At their current level of cultivation, they simply couldn’t reproduce the lines in their sea of consciousness onto paper.
What did this mean again? It meant that only when the two of them were together could they practice the Two Severing Saber.
Back in the Zhou Mausoleum, Chen Changsheng had once said, “Let’s practice it together.”
Now it seemed that this statement was an incredibly accurate prophecy.
After a long, long time, they had finally reunited, finally having the chance to practice this saber technique together.
The broken stele beneath the hut was what Zhou Dufu had severed with the Two Severing Saber back then. Though it had endured hundreds or even thousands of years of wind and rain, it still retained some remnants of saber intent.
Before this broken stele, the Two Severing Saber Technique—such a peerless divine skill—was being recreated. There was no more perfect place to comprehend and then cultivate it.
Entering the Heavenly Book Mausoleum naturally had its serious purpose, and this was it.
Time passed slowly. The winter sun moved lazily.
Before the broken stele hut, all was silent.
On the high platform touching the sky, beneath the sky divided by the courtyard well, before the clear water channel, several pairs of eyes fell upon this spot.
That young man and young woman, shoulder to shoulder, sat quietly in the grass.
To anyone watching, this looked like a romantic tryst.
Who could have imagined they were learning saber techniques and cultivating the Dao?
Of course, learning saber techniques and cultivating the Dao might also be their way of being in love.
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The ten Heavenly Book Steles, the secrets of the Zhou Garden, the confrontation between factions—there were too many reasons for Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong to feel wary and worried about each other.
Never mind talk of love; throughout the river of history, father-son bloodshed and husband-wife estrangement had happened far too many times. Those people were all truly great figures, possessing the keen insight to see through the mundane world. Yet they still ended up sinking into the mire of mutual harm. Why? Because those interests were so vast they had transcended the bounds of the secular world.
Fortunately, the ten Heavenly Book Steles, the secrets of the Zhou Garden, the peerless divine skill that could only be jointly cultivated—there were too many reasons, similar or different, that seemed to bind them together in this life, making separation impossible.
Observing the Heavenly Book Steles, comprehending the Two Severing Saber, studying the Scroll of Time, pondering how to break the formation left by Wang Zhice—time passed quickly. The rendezvous at the Heavenly Book Mausoleum came to an end. Their understanding of the Heavenly Books deepened another layer. They finally turned the Two Severing Saber into true knowledge they possessed. Though they hadn’t fully mastered the Scroll of Time, they had shared a beautiful stretch of time.
They left from before the broken stele hut. Instead of heading directly out of the mausoleum, they followed the road at the foot of the Heavenly Book Mausoleum southward to that shallow channel.
The shallow, clear water channel wound through the stone platforms, forming an extremely complex pattern. Above, on the mountainside, was a path so simple it was almost stark—very straight, running from the foot of the mountain straight to the highest peak. The stone steps were made of white jade, and this was the legendary Sacred Path.
Chen Changsheng was no stranger to these scenes and sights. On the first day he entered the Heavenly Book Mausoleum, he had come here.
That night, he and his companions watched as Xun Mei woke from the dream of the Heavenly Book Mausoleum, left the small courtyard, came here, stepped through the shallow water of these channels, crushed the star traces in the water, walked toward that pavilion, tried to ascend this Sacred Path to the summit of the Heavenly Book Mausoleum—and then collapsed in his arms.
Xun Mei’s resolute advance before the Sacred Path left an indelible spiritual impact on Chen Changsheng, Gou Hanshi, and the others, even more important than the notes he left behind. Gazing at the straight Sacred Path between the cliffs and the summit at its end that seemed infinitely far, almost touching the sky, Chen Changsheng remained silent, thinking that one day he would walk up from here.
To walk the Sacred Path, one had to pass through that pavilion. Beneath the pavilion sat a person, covered in heavy, ancient armor, even his face and hands hidden by rusted metal. He looked like a statue, but without any sense of deathly stillness—only an overwhelming feeling of vicissitude.
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(When I first started naming the chapters, I really almost wrote that character. Tsk tsk, good thing I came to my senses in time.)