Chapter 678: City Sealed
Tearing open the envelope, gifting death to others, and then welcoming his own death—Chen Changsheng truly did not care about any of this.
As he had said to Old Eunuch Lin earlier, he was no longer afraid of death, because there was nothing left he could not let go of.
All the people and events in this world meant nothing to him now, because three days ago, he had suddenly discovered that his own existence was inherently meaningless.
He stood on the broken threshold of the Scripture Library, holding that letter, quietly waiting for that moment to arrive.
The autumn wind swirled over the lake surface. The great banyan tree stretched its limbs beneath the sky, still bearing much green, forming a stark contrast with the golden fallen leaves on the grass.
Time passed slowly. The National Academy remained utterly silent.
Chen Changsheng looked up toward the academy gate. His brows slowly rose, like that leaf just lifted by the wind.
The thunderous, storm-like sound of hooves stopped at some point. The dust in the distance gradually settled below the courtyard walls, and there was no further movement.
The academy gate remained tightly shut. The stone walls were intact. The leaf that had fallen back into the lake attracted a few fish chasing after it.
It was still quiet. No one charged into the National Academy.
Neither the black-armored heavy cavalry, nor the strong assassins from the Zhou Dynasty military and the Ministry of Justice lying in ambush beyond the walls and in the woods, appeared.
Su Moyu and the other teachers and students of the National Academy who had held their ground watched the gate from a closer distance.
They saw Old Eunuch Lin’s miserable state, vaguely guessed what had happened in the Scripture Library, were shocked by Chen Changsheng’s hidden strength, and also understood his choice.
The National Academy had reached its most critical moment.
After Eunuch Lin left, the academy gate was shut tight again. Unexpectedly, the world outside suddenly grew quiet.
They were tense, not relaxed by the silence, finding it eerie instead.
The thunderous hoofbeats from earlier had been real, entering all their ears.
The fierce killing intent had also been real, chilling their academy robes to the bone.
Sword light shimmered like water, reflecting a touch of autumn.
The sword formation of the Southern Stream Sect shifted again. Ye Xiaolian floated forward from the formation to the front, looking at Su Moyu and asking, “What exactly is happening?”
A resolute expression appeared on Su Moyu’s face. He stepped forward directly and pushed open the academy gate with both hands.
As the gate opened, a figure came into view of the National Academy’s teachers and students.
Sky light spilled into the courtyard, accompanied by two gusts of clear wind.
It was an old man, standing on the stone steps before the National Academy gate, his back to them. His two wide sleeves danced lightly in the wind.
Su Moyu was somewhat shocked and said, “Dean Mao?”
Two Sleeves of Clear Wind Mao Qiuyu, once the dean of the Heavenly Dao Academy, now the Archbishop of the Hall of Brilliance. Students of the Six Academies of the Green Vine like Su Moyu were still accustomed to calling him Dean.
Before Su Moyu could recover from his astonishment, he was shocked again by the other figures present.
Archbishop Ling Baishi, Anlin, Priest Siyuan, and the King of Linghai were all standing on the stone plaza before the National Academy gate.
Five of the six great leaders of the State Church had arrived in person.
Then, Su Moyu saw more familiar figures.
The current dean of the Heavenly Dao Academy, Zhuang Zhihuan; the Archbishop of the Ancestral Temple; the Unrivaled Professor of the Thirteen Departments of Azure Radiance; and his former teacher, the dean of the Li Palace Affiliated Academy.
The row of taverns across from Hundred Flowers Lane had been forcefully flattened by the imperial army earlier, but now a faint dust rose again. One could see a tide of cavalry, a dark, oppressive mass.
The National Academy was still surrounded, but not besieged.
Because these cavalry were no longer the imperial black-armored heavy cavalry, but the State Church cavalry directly under the Li Palace.
The blades, spears, and divine crossbows of the State Church cavalry were all aimed outward.
Su Moyu was deeply shocked, vaguely realizing that the thunderous hoofbeats from earlier were not the signal for the black-armored heavy cavalry to charge, but the arrival of the State Church cavalry as reinforcements.
He instinctively turned his head to look back at the National Academy. The autumn woods were as before, quiet and silent. Along the walls and in the groves, one could faintly see many figures of priests.
Especially around the Scripture Library, every ten or so zhang, stood a Red-robed Archbishop of profound cultivation.
Such a formation was truly breathtaking and left one speechless.
This was the Li Palace, without any concealment, fully displaying its power to the world.
Before such power, even the Great Zhou imperial court had to show due reverence and deference.
Su Moyu knew the National Academy was safe. He relaxed, then felt the cold dampness on his back, realizing that in the moment he pushed open the gate, he had been so tense he had broken out in a sweat.
The disciples of the Southern Stream Sect and the teachers and students of the National Academy came behind him, looking out beyond the gate. Amid their shock, they all felt a sense of having survived a calamity.
……
……
The doors and windows of the Scripture Library were completely destroyed. The autumn air entered the room, exceptionally thick.
The Pope stood behind Chen Changsheng and said, “For cultivators, life is an extremely long process. In this process, we encounter many difficulties and give birth to many disappointments—what are called tribulations. How to face these tribulations—whether to live on with the relief of surviving a calamity, or to seriously think and then find yourself again—this is the most important distinction. I gave you three days to think, and I also gave you three days to come see me at the Li Palace. But you didn’t, so I had to come in person and ask: what exactly do you plan to choose?”
Chen Changsheng did not turn around, nor did he show any intention of answering.
The Pope understood why he had not sought help from the Li Palace during these three days and said, “Do you think all of us have deceived you?”
Chen Changsheng remained silent.
The Pope said, “As long as I live one day, I will protect you for one day. This is my promise to Melisandre.”
Chen Changsheng still did not speak.
The Pope walked to his side, standing with him as they looked out the now-nonexistent window, and said, “I am going to die.”
When he heard these words, Chen Changsheng’s gaze fell on the lakeside grass, where a thick layer of fallen leaves lay. Some shimmered with a golden luster, beautiful; others were ashen and rotting, lifeless.
He finally spoke.
“Uncle Master, what exactly do you want me to say?”
The Pope gazed at the yellow-and-red autumn woods and that strikingly green banyan tree, and said calmly, “The past is past—that is time. Similarly, the movement of stars and the changes of fate can only move forward. So we too can only look ahead. No matter what harm those past events have caused you, at least now, your illness is cured.”
If one thought like an ordinary person, Chen Changsheng had suffered no harm in the Heaven’s Book Mound Incident; instead, he had gained the greatest benefit.
Close your eyes, and it’s night. After death, your world will be destroyed. Of course, nothing is more important than living, nothing more worthy of celebration.
The Pope was not an ordinary person and would not think this way. He only wanted to point this out to wake Chen Changsheng up: “Melisandre probably calculated this back then, which is why he didn’t refuse Senior Brother’s proposal. He believed that compared to the deception, exploitation, grief, and pain you suffered, you would receive enough recompense. This is my guess.”
Chen Changsheng said, “You know, I’m not Tang Tang, nor Wang Po. I’m not good at calculations.”
This sentence carried deeper meaning. The Pope smiled faintly, did not take it up, and continued, “Your blood should no longer be a problem from now on. Her Majesty didn’t even dare to eat you, so naturally, no one else would dare to covet you—unless the Demon Lord acts personally. But now he has his own troubles and shouldn’t be able to threaten you.”
Chen Changsheng asked, “What happened?”
The Pope said, “No definite news has come back yet. We only know that Snow Old City has been sealed for three days.”