What flowed in the Sea of Beiming was not so much water as it was a whole world, where the clear and turbid were in stark divide.
When boats were on the waterâs surface, they could still float. Once a human got inside it, there would seem to be a relentless palm pressing down on the top of their head.
Almighty cultivators were still not tortoise spirits. They could endure for about half a month, but if pressed under the water for years, even gold inlaid with jade would get soggy, to say nothing of flesh and blood bodies.
The water surrounding them was as silent as death, seemingly unmoving. Only when one presumptuously attempted to fight the might of Beiming would they be met with a lesson as heavy as a mountain.
Yan Zhengming had repeatedly tried to use his sword qi to forcibly break away from the pressure on their heads, but it felt like he was an ant trying to shake a tree.
As a mortal â even on that had already entered Sword Spirit Realm â he was still just an ant before the Sea of Beiming.
Cheng Qianâs confrontation with Tang Zhen appeared to have used up all of his mental energy. Right now, there was some listlessness in his eyes that had nowhere to settle. Even though he was allowed to do what he wanted and pull him wherever he wanted to go, Yan Zhengming got the general feeling that⌠if he let go, Cheng Qian would eventually dissolve in the seawater, offering no objection even if he drowned and became a floating corpse.
Having been scared half to death by him before this, and unclear on if that soul-painting had been cleared out, Yan Zhengming dared not excite him any further, nor expect him to have any suggestions of use. Still, their environs were too quiet; he couldnât resist breaking the silence by cautiously teasing Cheng Qian. âBeing a love martyr really sounds fancy, but Iâm the prodigy of a generation! I canât be quietly martyred like this!â
Hearing this, Cheng Qian finally had something of a response. His eyes slightly moved, the corners of his mouth slightly upticking.
Catching that slight reaction, Yan Zhengming quickly followed up. âHey, you said that Tang Zhen is the Soul-Devouring Lamp, so doesnât that mean that all the ghosts in the world are dispatched by him alone, and as long as he wants to, he can attach himself to whoever, then travel a thousand li in the blink of an eye?â
He had just been casually lamenting, but as soon as he said as much, he abruptly became aware of the seriousness of this situation. Frowning, he started talking to himself before Cheng Qian could answer. âI just remembered⌠so, when he was in front of the Ten-Party Array, his constant attempts to get Han Yuan locked up on Fuyao Mountain wasnât to flaunt my reputation, but out of concern that Han Yuan actually would have a change of heart and tidy up the chaos of Nanjiangâs Nightmare Travelers, right? He just said that he was hustling a million resentful ghosts over. Where there is chaos, there will be death; he only fears a world not in chaos.â
In the wake of his voice, Cheng Qianâs unfocused eyes slightly honed in.
âTell me. Since he couldnât get the Golden Lotus Leaf from here, would his next step be to find Han Yuan and them to cause trouble? Copper Coin, whatâs wrong with you? Are you just going to ignore me? Youâre giving me heart problems!â
Cheng Qian slightly shut his eyes, bowed his head to press his forehead against the otherâs shoulder, then hugged him tight with both arms, as if he was a frozen beast that wanted to draw out some warmth from him.
He was cold by nature, not too willing to be intimate with others. Every once in a while, Yan Zhengming would want to try being icky-sticky, but after not even three sentences of stickiness, the other would inevitably get annoyed. Rarely was he ever like this.
Yan Zhengming was overwhelmed with this favor at first, after which he carefully softened up her voice. âWhatâs wrong? Do⌠you feel upset because of Tang Zhen? Or are there aftereffects of the soul-paintingââ
âItâs not because of him. Senior, do you know anything about Hear the Universe?â With his face buried in his shoulder, Cheng Qianâs voice sounded muffled. âThe Third Prince had said âYouâve all been swindled by Hear the Universeâ. The thing he was talking about⌠is in me.â
That ear-like mark?
Yan Zhengming was taken aback. âWhatâs Hear the Universe?â
âAn inheritance. AâŚâ Cheng Qianâs latter words trailed off on their own. He opened his mouth several times in an attempt to use different terms to expose some clues, but he was bound by a power he could not resist, originating from somewhere unseen, that prevented him from saying a single word. His fingers fiercely wrung Yan Zhengmingâs clothes, as he felt like those words were about to explode out of his chest.
Once your primordial spirit is fixed, and the inheritance Iâve sealed is accepted, you will understand that the inheritance has restrictions, and no one will be able to speak of the secrets of Hear the Universe⌠including the dead.
He hated that he could not let out a loud roar. He had finally been elucidated on how the Demon Elimination Seal that let the Celestial Divination Bureau control the major sects came to be, finally learned what that âTen-Party Pledgeâ was, finally understood why Shang Wanânian had to make him fully fix his primordial spirit before he could accept the inheritance, and finally understood why the majestic White Tiger Estate Lord had constantly avoided the people of the world, living his life as an old madmanâŚ
Yet, those secrets were within Hear the Universeâs prohibition, all shut up within his mind. He would have to protect them, in fear and solitude, for the rest of his life.
Yan Zhengming couldnât understand at first, but then suddenly seemed to sense something. Reaching out to place his hand on Cheng Qianâs chest, he proceeded to furrow his brow. âThis is⌠a silencing prohibition?â
What actually was that ear-shaped sigil? Why had it been able to undo soul-painting? And why had it let Cheng Qian pluck the Leaf without consequence?
Uncountable suspicions rolled about in Yan Zhengmingâs heart, but since Cheng Qian couldnât talk, he had to swallow the total sum of his questions back down, then gently pat him on the back, fearing that he would add to his suffocation.
Taking a deep breath, Cheng Qian managed to settle himself and feign relaxation. âSince it wonât let me talk, I wonât bring it up. Tang Zhen⌠Iâm guessing heâs not going to give up. Since he said that the millions of resentful souls will react to him, he must had something set up. Han Yuan might not be able to beat him, but he also might not lose to him.â
âRegardless, we need to get out of here, first. Beiming is like a sea of death. If we keep sinking like this, we might actually sink to the eighteenth layer of the netherworld.â
âSea of deathâŚâ Cheng Qian quietly repeated. Suddenly, he recalled something, placing his hand on Shuang Ren from where it was on his waist. After shutting his eyes in contemplation for a moment, he let Yan Zhengming go, sending out a band of swordwill with a wave of his hand.
Yan Zhengmingâs eyes brightened. That was a move out of Return to Trueness in Fuyao Wooden Sword, âA Withered Tree Meets Springâ.
This move created life in dead places, making it extremely fitting for this place. Before Yan Zhengming could praise that response for being very witty, though, he saw faint sword qi float out from Shuang Ren; it was gentle, but its wielderâs mood was unfortunately unsteady. The swordwill failed to fully integrate, quickly dissolving into the seawater, then quickly dying, not a trace left behind of it.
Cheng Qian tchâed, lightly frowning. Right when he was about to try again, Yan Zhengming caught his wrist.
âA Withered Tree Meets Spring says that the path of Heaven leaves behind a ray of vitality for all living things. With this one, two can be made. Two can then bear three, and after the three, comes all.â
Cheng Qian couldnât speak, but the frustration and stagnation in his swordwill couldnât deceive anyone, especially not sword cultivators.
Yan Zhengming watched him sternly for a time. âBut why does the will in your sword only have deadness and desolation? What were you thinking of just now?â
The other stared blankly, unable to explain.
With a heavy look, Yan Zhengming grabbed Cheng Qianâs hand that held Shuang Ren. âTake a look.â
Unfamiliar sword qi passed through their overlapping hands and went into Shuang Ren. Yan Zhengmingâs entirely distinct true essence instantly wiped away practically all of that thin frost on the vicious sword that never melted, revealing its originally-shiny body.
Soon after, elongated sword qi curled out from it, rotating in circles to stir up the seawater in front of them. Shuang Ren hummed as it vibrated violently. The formerly-stagnant Beiming water rushed forth in a huge splash â first forming a straight line, then exploding right there, shooting out in every direction.
The surrounding water was getting consistently whisked up, one revolution turning into ten, ten revolutions turning to a hundred as it boiled in their wake. A puff of flowers from withered wood, bloomed out of nothing, appeared to grow themselves out of a crack, its life force exuberant, spreading to the seaâs domain in a wink.
The next instant, the buoyancy they had lost beneath Beiming congregated once again, and they quickly stopped sinking.
Yan Zhengming still didnât let go of Cheng Qianâs hand, staring him dead in the eyes. âThis is A Withered Tree Meets Spring. Do you need me to teach you it again on our Masterâs behalf? Youâre going to half-kill me by being a stubborn mule again! Just wait for me to sort you out!â
Cheng Qian didnât get the time to admit his fault, shouting, âWatch out!â
A loud noise was heard. The stirred-up water swelled, as if to crush them to death within itself â in danger, Cheng Qianâs general lack of energy finally disappeared, and he set off body-protecting true essence as quick as he possibly could. Even with it, they got knocked around.
They then floated upwards at an extremely abnormal rate, picking up speed. The water around them was already a ball of chaos. For a second, neither dared to open their eyes.
It was unknown how long they were âflyingâ through the water. What was around them suddenly lightened up. After a sharp buzz, they pierced right out of Beimingâs surface using the sword qi, breaking free of the water.
Yan Zhengming had had quite enough of the Seaâs hardships. The second he got out, he brought out the wooden sword, not wanting to remain in this evil ocean at all. After pulling Cheng Qian out, he flew out like a lightning bolt. âCome on! Weâre leaving!â
That abyss and sea walls, once raised to the surface due to the Mystic Site, had been flattened from the blow-up. Neither of them dared to take a boat as relaxedly as they had come, flying on their swords a thousand li out in one breath.
Only then did Cheng Qian find a chance to speak. âWait until this is all over to sort me out, okay? â Do you think Tang Zhen is going to go straight for Han Yuan?â
âWhen we just entered the Site, I felt Li Yun touch the primordial spirit sword I had left for him before we left. You know how he is; he would never touch anything life-saving unless on the brink of death⌠once we leave the sea, Iâll probably be able to sense the direction that sword is in. Youâre coming with me to look, right?â
After all that stimulation, Cheng Qian was finally incrementally recovering his lost vitality, just like how he had when leaving the ice pool back in the day.
âWhere are you going to find the time for that, then?â he asked. âYou canât be like Tang Zhen. As long as ghosts exist, his primordial spirit can dart from horizon to horizon at any time. By the time we fly over there, weâll probably be too late. On top of that, if we kill a bunch of ghosts, heâll just be able to make new ones. Thatâs useless.â
âWhat youâre saying is that weâre just going to knock the pot over by directly going for the Soul-Devouring Lamp? Do you have an idea, then?â
âIâm thinking. Donât rush me.â
âHold on, careful!â Yan Zhengming made his sword do a sharp turn in the air without warning, grabbing Cheng Qianâs shoulder. Shuang Ren let out a shriek, the two of them coming to a halt at the same time.
Following his line of sight, Cheng Qian saw that there was a gray ghost floating not far from them. He was gripping a milky-white halo, waiting for them while suspended in midair.
âIs that one of Tang Zhenâs ghosts?â Yan Zhengming asked. âIs he waiting here to see whether weâre dead or not for his Master?â
Cheng Qian didnât say anything, going towards the halo on his sword.
Yan Zhengming swiftly caught up. âSlow down, slow down! These ghosts self-destructing is no lesser in value than normal cultivators self-destructing their primordial spirits⌠what? How is it him?â
Cheng Qian looked solemn. âLiu Lang?â
This ghost was the youth that had always been following Tang Zhen, Liu Lang!
Back when Liu Lang had been possessed by Jiang Peng and about to die, Cheng Qian had used his own true essence to nail his three hun and seven po to his corporeal form, and had also entrusted Nian Dada with bringing him to Tang Zhen, who was proficient in the path of the soul, to save his life.
Tang Zhen had given him a life of struggling at deathâs door, and Liu Lang, out of gratitude for his life-saving grace, had been at his beck and call this whole time devoted serving him, acting as his Daoling, all despite the fact that he had actually had the same chance to remain on Fuyao Mountain as Nian Dada didâŚ
âIsnât this kidâŚ? Tang Zhen is beyond cruel!â Yan Zhengming shouted, losing his voice.
Cheng Qian tore a chunk of cloth off of himself. Using Shuang Ren as a knife, he carved out a precise heart-purging charm, then slapped it onto ghost-Liu Langâs chest.
This charm could not be mentioned in the same breath as the wrong, half-finished product he had made a hundred years prior. The second it sank into Liu Langâs body, the boyâs eyes cleared up, and even the gray aura about his face cleared up by a lot, as if he had awoken from a nightmare. He stared fixedly at Cheng Qian for a short time. âSenior Cheng.â
âTang Zhen didnât let even you go?â Cheng Qian rapidly asked. âDo you know where the Lamp is? You soul shouldnât be completely refined yet. If you bring us there quickly, you might be able to be freed before itâs too lateââ
Liu Lang laughed a little. âSenior, it is too late.â
He raised up the light he held, and the ring flew to Cheng Qian like a bird returning to itsnest. Before it got close, he felt for it â this was the true essence he had affixed to Liu Lang.
âIt was solely from relying on your nail on my soul that I could escape, Senior,â Liu Lang went on, âand it led me here. I was afraid that I wouldnât be able to wait for you, but the Heavens have had mercy by allowing me to maintain myself until now so that I can return it to its former owner.â
The true essence sank right into Cheng Qianâs palm. Simultaneously, Liu Langâs soul was darkening and lightening in turn, looking like it was on the verge of scattering.
âThe Lampâs form is hidden in the piece of Ice-hearted Fire on Fuyao Mountain. He split the Fire you had taken into two; one section was placed into the snowy mountain, and the other was left in Fuyao. The Fire can isolate all spiritual consciousnesses. Even with all of Fuyao right under Sect Leader Yanâs eyes, you might not be able to feel that itâs there.â
Finished, Liu Langâs entire body had since faded into an afterimage. Cheng Qian instinctively reached out to grab it, but only caught a handful of empty air with some seabreeze, The youth silently vanished, rose up between the sky and the earth, then was no more.
The two exchanged a look, and they flew on their swords like meteors towards Fuyao Mountain.
I sealed up the mountain for him, Yan Zhengming thought to himself, but I actually did the whole family a favor.
They traversed the Extreme Northâs ice fields, once again passing Black Tortoise Hall and disturbing the bell above it as they flew. This time, though, no one came out to investigate.
The Hall was akin to an immense shadow, seated like something dead amidst infinite li of white snow, so silent, it was like no one lived there. One of its worn banners flew lonesomely in the air, shivering with the cold.
âWhatâs going on?â Yan Zhengming asked.
Cheng Qian swept his eyes over. âBian Xu is dead.â
Right after he said that, he suddenly drew Shuang Ren, then sent Gazing Tide down upon the Hall. A current of black, sky-surging qi viciously rose up, then got cut apart by Shuang Ren, twisting and writhing in midair as it seemed to scream, then dissipate into smoke unwillingly.
Yan Zhengming was dumbstruck. âWas that a heart demon given form?â
âIâm guessing that either Han Yuan killed him, or he qi deviated and did something stupid⌠either situation is a real headache.â
They practically turned into shooting stars inside this world of snow.
At that same moment, back in Shuzhong, Tang Zhen took in a deep breath. The seemingly-impervious scales of the arrogant demonic dragon were exceedingly fragile beneath his palm, looking like they couldnât withstand a single blow.
Everything before him was suffused with blood red, temporarily blurring even his line of sight.
The moment he saw blood, all of his various, carefully-considered calculations vanished like ash in the wind. He hallucinated that he held unmatched authority, felt that he had power beyond compare.
This was demonism. There was nowhere he could not waltz through in the Heavens or on the earth. No rules whatsoever could bind him. Everything alive was like ants crawling beneath his feet.
He was the perfected expert of the ghost path, all ghosts were part of his psyche, he alone headed an impressive armyâŚ
The Golden Lotus Leaf was destroyed, but couldnât he just wait for next time?
Who in the world today could still be his match?
His heart swelled without bounds, finally snared by the instincts of the demonic path. With blood seen, to say nothing of him, but even Han Yuan, and Tong Ru⌠not a one of them could control themselves.
The demonic dragon was covered in bloody fog from having suffered two heavy hits, but still refused to withdraw. Tang Zhen looked down upon them. âDonât you feel yourself to be ridiculous? The effect of a million resentful souls will be heading for me now. Heavenâs will is coming back to its original owner. Even if you stop me here, it will be a futile search for death. Why bother?â
Even at a plight like this, Han Yuan still had a dirty mouth born from seeing others being smug, grinning maliciously. âI often hear the words âupholding justice on Heavenâs behalfâ hanging off the lips of people from righteous sects, and every once in a while, I get secondhand embarrassment for them. I had never expected that there would be a marvel like you in our divine demonic path, Brother Tang, that would mouth the words âHeavenâs willâ. Which seat is your ass actually on?â
Tang Zhenâs giant claw was now half-sunken into his body. Han Yuan panted a few times, stubbornly maintaining his dragon form, his mouth still unwilling to spare him. âYou⌠hh⌠new here? Iâll just have to let you know⌠that we of the wayward path saying âHeavenâ like that a-all day long⌠is whatâs ridiculous!â
Tang Zhen laughed powerlessly. âYou really wonât cry until you see your own coffin, will you?â
Han Yuan bellowed angrily, his entire dragon form pushed to its limits. His flesh and blood seemed to boiling, making him let out a pained growl, but he grit his teeth and bore it. All his life seemed to be uninhibited and fluctuating; in reality, it was all him going with the flow, not able to help himself in the least.
Whenever it came time to move forward, he would instead retreat. Whenever it came time to restrain himself, he would instead unrestrainedly advance before he should.
All these years, he had either painfully advanced on the wrong path, or painfully regretted on the wrong path.
Perhaps some only learned how to retreat and advance appropriately in desperate situations, requiring a great deal of wits and perseverance.
âThe path of HeavenâŚâ he mumbled, âOur Fuyao Sect, since ancient times, has only walked the path of humanity. What do those dogshit gods have to do with us?â
All of a sudden, Shui Keng turned into a Red Crane, then charged at Tang Zhen with no regard for her own safety. She opened her mouth, but wasnât sure what to call him; âcuckoldâ seemed to be an insult to her own self, and âdadâ was something she felt him unworthy of.
So, she simply spat out a mouthful of True Fire, burning up the ghosts that were grabbing Han Yuanâs body.
âShui Keng, get back here!â Li Yun shouted.
âGet away!â Han Yuan raged. âThis is a grudge between us devils! What do you think youâre doing, you fat mynah?!â
âYouâre fat! Your whole familyâs fat!â Shui Keng answered, crying.
Tang Zhen expressionlessly turned to her. The ghosts again congregated into a hand heavy with deathly qi, then grabbed at her wing.
She dexterously glided away in the air, cloaked in fierce flames. Like a fenghuang making her way through, the bouncing fire singing countless hovering ghosts. âIâm not a calamity born in a bath of blood!â she yelled at him. âOne day, Iâm going to be the most powerful Yao King in the world! I was born a Red Crane â with no father!â
The corner of Tang Zhenâs eye twitched. The big claw made of ghosts abruptly disappeared, then re-formed behind Shui Keng without her knowing.
âLook out!â Li Yun called.
The enormous hand nabbed the Craneâs slender neck. Shui Keng fought desperately, her fire-red feathers floating downwards as they came off. Seeing such, a moment of hesitation flashed past Tang Zhenâs indifferent face, but ice-cold murderousness concealed it soon after.
Right then, a messy-looking bird of unknown species charged forth without fear of death. A wooden tablet grasped in its beak was spat out, then fastened upon Shui Keng â Iit exploded with a dazzling white light, knocking Tang Zhen away.
That was the puppet charm that Tang Zhen himself had drawn two hundred years ago. The Yao Empress had been reluctant to use it unto her death, but now, it was returned to its original owner.