“Shao Cang.”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
“It’s something you should know anyway. I was just being selfish. As long as you don’t resent me, it’s fine.”
…
On a beach in Fan State, Nan Rao emerged from the sea. After sensing the concentration of spiritual energy in the surroundings, she clicked her tongue and decided to use less spiritual energy. She dove back into the sea and dragged out a figure with a head full of white hair.
After pulling him onto the shore, Nan Rao finally collapsed on the beach, exhausted.
“It is you.”
He had been unwilling to kill, so he repeatedly used space-severing techniques to prevent other Nascent Soul cultivators from tracking him through space. From what Nan Rao could see, even an immortal would probably need to seclude themselves for a decade to recover after such an ordeal.
After catching her breath, Nan Rao sat up and saw that his body had been pierced by at least thirty sword wounds. Such a sword formation technique couldn’t have come from Wei State; it was most likely Daosheng Tian’s famous move, the Celestial Chant.
Thinking of the Vermilion Emperor, Nan Rao bit her lip, trying to suppress the terrifying speculation in her heart. Despite the hatred in her eyes, she knew she couldn’t act rashly now. She had to gather evidence to expose Daosheng Tian’s actions to the world.
After composing herself, she reached out to undo Ji Ming’s robe to check his injuries, but he caught her hand, stopping her.
“You’re awake so soon? You… hm?”
Ji Ming slowly opened his eyes. His pupils were blood-red, like a river of blood.
For a moment, Nan Rao almost thought he would kill her.
But Ji Ming just stared at her, his gaze alternating between confusion and bewilderment. Nan Rao met his eyes for a while, then waved her free hand in front of him.
“How many fingers?”
“That’s you.”
“Then who am I?”
“You’re… Nan Rao.”
It was the first time Ji Ming had called her by name, and he had never looked at her like this before, gazing at her without averting his eyes. Nan Rao began to sense something was amiss.
“Do you remember what happened to my father, the Vermilion Emperor, and the old Dragon Lord couple during the ascension?” Nan Rao asked, but Ji Ming remained silent. She boldly probed his divine sense and her expression darkened.
His primordial spirit and consciousness were almost shattered. If he were forced to remember, it could be life-threatening.
Fearing discovery by passing cultivators on the beach, Nan Rao gritted her teeth and hoisted Ji Ming onto her back. “Don’t you dare die? I can’t fight Daosheng Tian alone.”
Night fell quickly. Fortunately, they were in Fan State, where most cultivators were not highly skilled. Along the way, Nan Rao managed to avoid the patrolling Fan State cultivators who seemed to be searching for something.
When the moon reached its zenith, Nan Rao finally found an abandoned, dilapidated Taoist temple and brought him inside.
“Wait here for a moment. I’m going outside to set up a formation,” Nan Rao said, turning to leave. But she felt a tug on her sleeve and exclaimed in surprise, “What’s wrong?”
This man should be her elder, a highly revered monk among all Buddhist cultivators. Yet now, he clung to her sleeve like a helpless child, unwilling to let go.
Nan Rao crouched down and asked, “What are you trying to tell me?”
Ji Ming seemed to have made a difficult decision and said, “You should leave quickly. Don’t worry about me.”
Nan Rao looked down at his hand, still firmly grasping her sleeve, and thought to herself, “Master, your words don’t match your actions at all.”
Nascent Soul cultivators could absorb spiritual energy from nature to recover their cultivation. Seeing that he couldn’t recover well like this, Nan Rao could only comfort him, “We’re both depleted of energy now. If Ying Zewei sends people after us, we might not be able to escape. You should rest here and recover while I go set up a formation outside. I’ll be back soon.”
Ji Ming’s gaze followed her until she left. The red glow in his eyes began to surge uncontrollably again. He stood up, supporting himself on the incense table in front of the Three Pure Ones statue, and looked up at the dilapidated figures. Slowly, some memories seemed to return.
“Seven Buddhas creating karma… Dao law of Heaven and Earth…”
“Soul-nurturing pool…”
“Self-created path of reincarnation…”
Chaotic fragments flashed before his eyes until the sound of the door opening behind him made him turn. He was about to speak but saw that the silhouette in the moonlight wasn’t Nan Rao’s.
“I remember the Dao Lord repeatedly inviting the Buddhists to ascend. I wonder why the Buddhist was so attached to the mortal realm?”
Ji Ming closed his eyes, a hint of anger in his voice: “Ascension? Using others’ lives as a soul-nurturing pool, attempting to usurp the cycle of reincarnation? The Dao Lord… was wrong.”
“The Dao Lord is never wrong,” Ying Zewei’s words now carried a stubborn and fanatical tone. “That year, the Dao Lord gazed at the stars and asked me, ‘If there’s no heaven beyond the sky, why would cultivators embark on this path?'”
If cultivators reached the end of their journey only to find an impenetrable barrier beyond the sky, even with godlike powers, they’d be trapped in the mortal realm waiting for death. Would cultivators still pursue the great path of immortality?
“Cultivators seek immortality, to live as long as heaven and earth. If there are no immortals or gods in this world, we should create one—for example, by mastering reincarnation, making people immortal and indestructible. This cultivation world would then persist.”
“Absurd,” Ji Ming said, the blood color in his eyes intensifying. “The universe has its order. What if the netherworld doesn’t exist?”
Ying Zewei replied, “Win, and we live with heaven and earth. Lose, and all people perish together. It’s that simple.”
The sound of the formation activating outside reached them. Ji Ming, not wanting to involve Nan Rao, said, “What value does this broken body of mine hold that you’d personally come to persuade me?”
“This junior wishes to invite the Confessional Master to cultivate the path of slaughter from now on, to guard a soul-nurturing pool for the cultivation world.”
In other words, he wanted Ji Ming to be an accomplice.
“What if I refuse?”
“I’ve already lost one master. I don’t want to lose another…” Ying Zewei paused, glancing at the faint red light in the night outside the temple. He chose his words carefully. “Another friend.”
“…Will you kill her?”
“Does the Master know why the Dao Lord betrothed Nao Niang to me?” Ying Zewei raised his hand, revealing half of a damaged, crystal-like heart. “Before sacrificing himself, the Dao Lord said that the Six Harmonies Dao Heart, the Vermilion Emperor’s Demon Heart, and the Buddhist Bone Zen Heart, when combined into one, could break through the barrier beyond this realm and truly ascend.”
He understood now… The Dao Lord wanted to keep Nan Rao by Ying Zewei’s side, so if one day he decided to kill for ascension, he could do so at any time.
No wonder the Dao Lord wanted him dead, no wonder…
“This Six Harmonies Dao Heart belongs to the Dao Lord, but it’s incomplete. Although I know that among the Buddhist cultivators in the world, Master should have cultivated a Buddhist Bone Zen Heart, this path seems hopeless. So, I’ve been hesitating for years. Therefore… please guide me, Master. Should I choose to combine the three hearts to ascend myself, or…”
…Nan Rao would die.
“Alright, promise me you won’t harm her life,” Ji Ming said hoarsely.
…
Outside the temple, Nan Rao had just finished setting up the formation. She tried to keep herself busy to suppress the surging hatred in her heart.
She thought of Nan Yi, Ao Guanghan, and many others… She also knew what a behemoth Daosheng Tian was, which meant she had to learn to control her emotions.
If only Ji Ming could guide her.
With these thoughts, Nan Rao put on a smile she knew looked forced and pushed open the door.
“Why did you close the door? It’s not like we haven’t—”
Under the dark, demon-like statues of the Three Pure Ones, Ying Zewei had been waiting for her for a long time.
“Nao Niang, will you come back with me?”