"I didn’t expect... you standing here, just to lure over for a look."
Chen Yi’s voice was hoarse.
"That’s right."
She didn’t deny it.
Many things, once the thought crossed her mind, even if it was just a passing thought, she wouldn’t deny.
Chen Yi pressed his forehead and said slowly:
"I want to rest for a bit."
"Then move forward."
Zhou Yitang stepped ahead without hesitation.
Chen Yi recalled that not far away, there was another burial chamber that could be used temporarily to rest.
Entering the chamber, Chen Yi took deep breaths, trying to calm his chaotic mind. He looked at Zhou Yitang but suddenly found himself unsure of whether she was beautiful or not.
He couldn’t discern purely with his eyes.
This was one manifestation of breaking free from the attachnt to distinction of the self.
There are two types of "self-attachnt": one is the attachnt to distinctions, and the other is innate attachnt. The forr is developed postnatally, while the latter is inborn, erging when an infant becos self-aware.
"You’re too confident."
The one-ard woman said indifferently.
"Heh... I want to go back."
Chen Yi chuckled and said,
"A bit of regret now. Since you’re scheming against like this, once I return, you won’t even have the chance to beco my main wife."
"Boring," she replied casually.
"As a co-wife? If backed by an imperial edict from the Empress Dowager, you might be placed as my left or right consort."
Chen Yi teased with a playful laugh.
She acted as if she didn’t hear him.
"Concubine?"
Seeing her not even glance at him, Chen Yi sneered viciously:
"If you remain silent, you won’t even qualify as a chambermaid."
She glanced at him sideways.
"I’m your master."
"So what if you’re my master?"
After being played once, Chen Yi retorted:
"When your sword was broken, why didn’t you act so proud then?"
Zhou Yitang sneered and quipped:
"You’re unraveling at the seams."
Chen Yi fell silent upon hearing that.
"If you sche against , why shouldn’t I return the favor?"
Her voice was unhurried. The one-ard woman turned her face away.
Chen Yi, of course, understood—this master of his always held grudges. Compared to him, she might even be more stubborn, and more vengeful.
"Sigh, I miss the little fox. She always aligns with my wishes, and I like her very much."
Chen Yi intentionally goaded her, sighing with feigned affection.
Master Tongxuan was unmoved, warming her hands by the fire.
"I also sowhat miss Min Ning, the Spring and Autumn Sword Master. Seems like in the days to co, he’ll be as impressive as you, no?"
The Sword Armor’s expression remained as steady as ever.
Chen Yi remarked sincerely:
"And the Empress Dowager, who cared for so attentively. Though I never formally apprenticed under her, she treated like a mother."
The one-ard woman’s lips pressed together imperceptibly.
"Oh, and Taichua Goddess—I enjoyed her company,"
Chen Yi paused and added with mock gratitude,
"After all... it was thanks to my good master, Zhou Zhuyu, who sent her to ."
Zhou Yitang’s expression darkened.
"Your six desires are far from pure."
Her mind drifted to the image of Yin Tingxue extending both hands toward him.
She had traveled a thousand leagues to find him, only to discover his surroundings filled with won vying for his attention. She could endure one or two, even three, but to see him so lustful, his deepest attachnts seemingly rooted in won—it made her coldly utter:
"You sure have luck with won, indulging in debauchery left and right. How many do you have, truly?"
She wanted an exact number.
With only one hand mobile, Chen Yi counted and realized the number exceeded it. He smiled cheekily and said:
"More than I can count on one hand."
Zhou Yitang’s face flickered with uncertainty.
Watching her reaction, Chen Yi felt a strange nostalgia.
He had always liked that stubborn streak of hers—it was especially gratifying to provoke her.
The burial chamber quieted down. Watching her warm her hands silently by the fire, her steadfast presence brought an indescribable warmth to the atmosphere.
Chen Yi stared at her for a long mont and finally asked:
"It’s been so long. Won’t you say sothing... I truly want to hear?"
"What do you want to hear?"
Zhou Yitang snapped.
"That you can’t bear to lose , or that Yin Sword Mountain can’t manage without ?"
Chen Yi just smiled and said:
"Seems like you’re quite willing to let go."
The one-ard woman nodded faintly.
Chen Yi turned away, signaling his need to sleep.
Before drifting off, he said,
"By the way, since you don’t care about , let tell you one thing."
"What?"
The Sword Armor was puzzled.
"Don’t touch my face while I’m asleep."
The one-ard woman’s body stiffened sharply.
Her gaze sharpened like a blade, filled with lingering hate, as though she could pierce his heart with a single sword.
Chen Yi felt goosebumps under her glare but secretly smiled.
See? So impatient.
And you want to spar with ?
He closed his eyes, basking in the mingling of her hate and helplessness.
Now that he thought about it, using other won to provoke her felt a bit an.
Because she would never use other n to provoke him.
She was more stubborn than him, more vengeful than him, and ultimately...
She was even more devoted than him...
Before long, the utterly exhausted Chen Yi succumbed to sleep.
Zhou Yitang sat cross-legged on the ground, seemingly ditating. The silver-white Ruoque Sword lay before her, emanating a faint hum.
The restless hum of the sword seed to sense the montary wavering in Zhou Yitang earlier.
The one-ard woman tapped her fingers lightly; the sword’s hum paused briefly, then resud.
"I know you deeply wish to kill him."
Without opening her eyes, Zhou Yitang thought inwardly,
"Your destiny is to shatter the Heavenly Gate. Yet then, he forcefully broke you."
The Ruoque Sword let out a cry, like that of phoenixes and cranes.
"I hate him too, but once he slays his three corpses, everything will pass. He will still be him..."
In her heart, she said,
"...And yet, he will no longer be him."
The Ruoque Sword quieted down slightly.
Zhou Yitang closed her eyes again, regaining her focus.
She recalled that guarding the entrance to the burial chamber’s main tomb was none other than a mber of the ancient Four Fiend Clans—Qiongqi.
Folklore often spoke of the Four Great Beasts of Calamity, mistakenly believing there was only one of each. But in ancient tis, they were known as clans, and how could a clan only have one mber?
The Qiongqi Clan were the descendants of the Shaohao Lineage. They thrived on slander, scheming, and treachery. In the ancient past, Yu Shun had exiled the Four Fiend Clans to remote lands to guard against the demon tribes from the four corners.
Now, upon entering the main tomb chamber, Zhou Yitang and Chen Yi would encounter a Qiongqi idol. And outside the burial chamber’s door, they would face a real-life Qiongqi.
Zhou Yitang conserved her strength.
Although the beast, like her, was subdued by the suppressive power of the burial chamber, Qiongqi’s malevolence was not rely in its might but also in its cunning ability to manipulate hearts.
When engaging with it, its every word brought eightfold Heart Demons infiltrating, inciting suspicion and mutual slaughter—even practitioners adept in the Way of the Mountain could not entirely escape its influence.
Even though she had slain one before, Zhou Yitang dared not underestimate it again.
The danger lied not only in the Qiongqi itself but also in... using the eightfold Heart Demons it conjured to help Chen Yi sever his innate self-attachnt.
.................
Immortal lodies lingered, celestial cranes glided through the sky, and the surroundings were serene.
A towering tree grew at the center of an island, its canopy reaching the heavens. Reverberating bell tones pealed faintly from a drum tower in the distance.
A simple man in white robes sat in Lake Heart Pavilion. Before him was a Weiqi board. His gaze was elegant, and beside him was a young Daoist boy, fanning and twirling a lotus pod.
A small boat glided across the ripples of the lake, pushing past layers of lotus leaves, finally docking beside the pavilion. The man paused with the ga piece in his hand and said softly:
"It’s been a while."
"I’ve missed you deeply,"
A Bikuni, one hand paddling the oar and the other holding an unmarked flower, looked at him and smiled.
If any elder from Great Yu’s capital were present, they would be astonished to notice how closely this Bikuni resembled the late Princess Xiang.
"Since parting on Yintai Mountain, it’s been more than two cycles of sixty years."
The man said calmly,
"For once, we managed to end in a draw—neither winning nor losing—and yet, that result was what neither of us could accept."
"We must always let things run their course."
The Bikuni replied, gazing at the flower in her hand.
"It has always been so."
The man sighed wistfully, calculating with his fingers. This intricate sche likely dated back hundreds of years before that draw in the Buddhist-Taoist conflict.
"Do you find this Chen Yi, styled as Zun Ming, to be peculiar?"
The man suddenly asked.
"Oh?"
"From your daughter in Yintai Temple to Master Tongxuan of Yin Sword Mountain, so many threads are entangled with him, even though he was supposed to be an ordinary mortal. Yet in the end, he... dies nding the heavens."
"Each has their own destiny."
The Bikuni paused before asking,
"Was it you who directed Master Tongxuan to seek him out?"
"No."
The man shook his head,
"Though I could foresee her regaining her past-life mories, the human heart is unpredictable. How could I predict the exact actions of a Master?
Besides, now that I dwell in seclusion, removed from worldly affairs,
what grand plans spanning a thousand threads could there be? It’s all simply... going with the flow."
When the Sword Armor sought the Yu Zhen True Yuan Lord, the True Yuan Lord had co to him for divination.
Thus, the man rely went with the flow, causing the True Yuan Lord and the Sword Armor to et.
"This Chen Yi—strange and not strange."
"What do you an?"
"Chen signifies the ruins of Taihao Fuxi; Yi symbolizes the Dao of Heaven and Earth. The nas ’Zun’ and ’Ming’ an to respect and clarify with purpose."
The man seed to murmur to himself,
"His na in its entirety carries a certain inexplicable... mystery."
"Crafted by divine hands, destined by heaven."
The Bikuni said lightly.
"Indeed."
The man laughed heartily.
Chen Yi was destined to sever his three corpses—this, he eagerly anticipated.
After all, a Saint who had severed their three corpses would be far more suited than a re mortal to fulfill the role of a...
Heaven-nding Stone.
Otherwise, after the Heavenly Gate fractured, leading to the collapse of heaven and earth and the decimation of countless lives, such a catastrophe... neither he, this Bodhisattva, nor the myriad celestial Buddhas could bear that responsibility.
User Comments
0 comments from readers