Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Master Lotus gave her an indifferent glance before smiling suddenly. He lowered his head and sucked off the beads of blood on her delicate face as if he was sucking the dew off a lotus flower. And then, he bit off a piece of flesh.
Pain flashed through Ye Hongyu’s eyes, but she laughed maniacally. “You are afraid.”
Master Lotus did not pay her any attention. He chewed the third mouthful of flesh and tried to regain his energy and vitality in the shortest time possible before Ning Que regained consciousness.
He was the most terrifying and strongest person in that world decades ago. Today, there were three elite cultivators of the younger generation who had unleashed their powers before him. They had finally seen a glimmer of hope and fought hard for a chance in the face of death. This dangerous process was filled with confidence and determination. Even Master Lotus who had witnessed several earth-shattering events felt his heart palpitate and treated it seriously in a show of respect.
The Calligraphy Addict had built the Stone Array Tactic to block Master Lotus’s Psyche Power attack at the expense of her sense of perception. The crux of the matter was whether Master Lotus would regain his strength after using the Practice of Taotie to absorb the flesh and blood first, or would Ning Que comprehend the Haoran Sword method and emerge from his muddled state before that.
Ning Que did not know how dangerous the situation was. He did not know about the sacrifices and effort the Calligraphy Addict and the Tao Addict had made to stop Lotus from breaking him out of the cultivation state he had entered. He did not know what he was doing. Neither did he know why he felt a sense of familiarity when he saw those sword marks and flames. His body and the aura in his blood wanted to move along with these sword marks subconsciously. He had even forgotten everything that had happened before and the world outside.
This state was very dangerous. It was like a helpless naked baby walking in the wild forests. He might be attacked and eaten by wild beasts anytime. However, it was also because this state was filled with innocence and purity that it was able to accept the images imprinted on one’s soul from the exoteric.
This state was called Empty Understanding.
Ning Que felt great and powerful in the Empty Understanding state.
There were only stone walls and the four corners of the bluestone walls in his eyes. The sword marks on the stone walls looked as if they had come alive. They entered his soul through his eyes and turned into numerous things.
They were like stars circulating in the night sky; like a stream dancing in the valley; like clouds floating in the blue sky; like a proud mountain in the world and like a traveler walking happily on a road.
The flow of the sword marks was like turning a page of a book. Each page was painted with a clear map that appeared to be some amazing steps, or like a formidable swordsmanship style. It even seemed like an amazing exercise but was nothing at all but an attitude.
He followed the sword marks in his eyes and began to imitate them. He waved his knife like a sword and began to think silently. He savored it with a smile and his pace became smoother and the way he waved his podao became more fluid.
Vaguely, he seemed to have understood something deep.
The sword marks that Youngest Uncle had left on the stone walls were originally a way of expressing his emotions.
His pace was even smoother and his sword waving more fluid. In the end, it was even considered carefree.
For travelers to see more of the world, they had to forget the weariness and pain they have experienced in their journey and should dance and sing while they were at it.
A great mountain standing alone on earth and having to ignore the worshiping of ordinary folks would, of course, become proud.
Following the direction of the wind, clouds would stop or float by in the blue sky.
The stream in the valley flowed and took every collision with rocks as a game. It flowed along with gravity, and every collision created beautiful splashes. This was called jumping for joy.
The numerous stars littered in the sky stilled or moved according to their wishes as they smiled at the world.
Everything happened naturally.
This was a carefreeness called nature.
And because of the nature of things, I would go when I want to even if there were thousands and millions of people before me.
I have The Great Spirit, and so I would walk freely.
This was a principle of the world.
…
…
His injured sense of perception and the Psyche Power that he had gained from meditation over the past decade began to slowly move like the clouds, stars, and stream. They towered like the large mountain and was as cheerful as the travelers.
The sword style hidden in the scattered sword marks on the walls floated with the flames and gradually entered his body. The sword styles flooded into him as his soul became enlightened. And then, together with the flow of Psyche Power, it stopped the joy.
It was unknown how these sword styles existed. It became a warm flow once it had entered his body and it repaired his sense of perception in a short time. Then, it followed the flow from the middle of his forehead and pierced the Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi.
The reparation of his sense of perception felt great. Ning Que stood before the wall with his knife in his hands. He was in a muddled state and did not know what was happening in the world outside his mind. However, his brows relaxed subconsciously and then came together tightly. He could feel an intense pain radiating from his chest and stomach.
The sword styles in the scattered sword marks flowed in his body brutally, as if there were tens of thousands of little swords ricocheting everywhere. They tore through his organs that the naked eye cannot see and riddled them with holes.
This was scarier than the Taoist Sword that the Tao Addict had used by the Daming Lake.
Then, thousands of small swords flew to his waist and abdomen where the snow mountain was and began to hit it without stopping. The sharp blade cut through the hard ice at the Snow-capped Peak easily. Mounds of snow flew up and the rate at which the sword style was hitting the mountain increased rapidly. It had already made hundreds and millions of cuts in the blink of an eye. The cuts between the edge of the sword and the ice began to heat up. The Snow Mountain that had been silent for years began to melt and evaporate.
Thousands of millions of small swords began to fly within his body or his consciousness. They flew towards a calm Ocean of Qi. And just like how they had hit the Snow Mountain, they began to focus on making hundreds of millions of cuts once more. The calm Ocean of Qi began to churn and a huge wave emerged as if the ocean itself was boiling. In the end, it began to boil and turned into a mist in the air.
The Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi melted and evaporated into mist as they continued to flow through a certain passageway in his body. The flow was neverending and permeated throughout his body. It would leave some mist everywhere it went and the mist would coagulate into a drop of dew and begin to moisten him.
As the mist coagulated to become drops of dew that moistened him endlessly, his body began to deconstruct and rebuild, just like the disassembling and rebuilding of an old house. The rebuilt house was beautiful, sturdy and unafraid of the wind and rain.
Ning Que felt the warmth flowing through his body as if energy was pouring through his muscles and bones. This feeling was comfortable and strong and it made one feel intoxicated and reluctant to awake.
The sword marks on the stone walls continued to spin. The deeply engraved sword style in the sword marks continued to enter his body endlessly, turning into numerous small swords that bombarded his Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi, moisturizing and strengthening his body.
Time ticked by.
A sudden shadow flitted past Ning Que’s soul, which was immersed in pain and intoxication. He had suddenly remembered something and he became greatly afraid. His body felt cold even though he was in a place filled with light.
Would his Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi be ruined if pounding of the sword style continued? Could he still cultivate if his Qi orifices, that he had gone through several hardships to clear, disappeared?
He suddenly regained consciousness due to the fear and anxiety.
He looked at the sword marks on the wall uneasily. He was soaked in cold sweat and the air between his palm and the knife hilt was bone-piercingly cold.
These sword marks and sword styles. They were Youngest Uncle’s Haoran Sword.
He finally understood what Master Lotus had meant.
Practicing the Haoran Sword and the Great Spirit in his chest.
If he wanted to practice the Great Spirit, he had to turn his back against Haotian and even become enemies with Haotian.
Becoming enemies with Haotian would mean joining the Devil.
Youngest Uncle had joined the Devil the moment he had held on to this sword.
That was why Youngest Uncle had been punished by the heavens and died.
He had already comprehended the sword style of Haoran Sword. If he accepted the sword style and allowed it to enter his body, he would be following in Youngest Uncle’s footsteps.
And he would also join the Devil.
Following in Youngest Uncle’s footsteps was something glorious and to be proud of.
But it was also the most dangerous thing on earth.
Even Youngest Uncle who was one of the strongest could not avoid death after he had joined the Devil.
If he learned the Haoran Sword, how many days more could he live on earth?
…
…
Ning Que looked around him distractedly.
The old monk was practicing his Devil art in the mountain of bones. Ye Hongyu laid beneath him, unconscious.
Mo Shanshan smiled with difficulty when she saw that he was finally conscious. She could not hold on any longer, and fell into a dead faint.
Night had long come to the world outside the mountain. The room was darker than ever.
He held on to the knife and stood before the mountain of bones. His shirt was soaked with sweat as he stayed silent, not knowing how to proceed.
The sword marks on the walls stopped moving as they waited in silence.
The sword style in his body stopped flowing and waited in silence.
His will awaited his final decision in silence as well.
Even someone like Lotus would have to hide in the dark once he joins the Devil. If he wanted to walk proudly in the open like Youngest Uncle, he would be punished by the heavens and died no matter which cultivation state he was in.
Ning Que looked towards the sky, but could not see anything. He could only see the cold stone walls and the colour of the dark night.
This was the most difficult decision a cultivator had to make.
Their respect for Haotian would not allow them to touch that world in the dark night.
Even a cultivator who had not a shred of respect for Haotian would struggle due to the fearful considerations between life and death. He would think about it and meditate on it for half a life and would not reach a conclusion.
He thought and struggled over it for what seemed to be an entire lifetime.
In actuality, he had only considered it for the amount of time it took for thirty spring onion slices to fall from his palm into noodles with fried eggs.
He wanted to live on.
He wanted to live on with a certain person.
This was the most important thing.
Compared to this, Haotian was a pile of shit.
Dog shit.
…
…
Ning Que raised his podao to rest in front of his brows.
This would be the last time he worshiped the heavens.
And his knife landed.
The blade landed on the stone walls.
And onto the sword marks that Youngest Uncle had left behind all those years ago.
His wrist turned the blade and it followed the two sword marks, making two strikes on both sides of it.
The flames beneath the blade danced as if they were stars leaving the night dome.
Following this simple movement, the sword style that had waited silently gathered.
Numerous tiny swords gathered, and with the Ocean of Qi, they cleaved the Snow Mountain.
At this moment, Ning Que knew that he had entered a brand new world.
The Psyche Power in his sense of perception still existed, but it no longer played music for the heavens. Instead, it created a beautiful new world in his body. There were trees and lakes, mountains and seas in the new world. All it needed was life to multiply and fill it.
A new path was created in the Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi. The path seemed to have always existed, but had been blocked and hidden. It had finally made its existence known. The majestic sword style turned into a certain aura and whistled through the path. It went forth with vigor and was endless. It rushed towards the skies.
That was the Great Spirit.
The minuscule stream of air spluttered. Dust and debris erupted from Ning Que’s body
His eyes glittered before they returned to normal.
