Chapter 60:

Soft light fell upon his eyelids, and a faint voice drifted closer and gradually entered his ears.

“Zhao Ming, the Holy Monarch…”

“Zhao Ming, the Holy Monarch…”

—Who was calling him?

His eyelashes fluttered lightly, and his phoenix eyes opened slightly. Everything before him seemed veiled in a halo of light, hazy and indistinct. Within this blurred vision, a particular glow caught his attention. Fixing his gaze on a single point before him, he felt the mist and radiance slowly dissipate. The warm, gentle glow gradually became clearer.

A small orb, about the size of a palm, floated midair. Inside the orb swirled chaotic energy, rhythmically absorbing and releasing spiritual essence, radiating a comforting and gentle light.

It gently landed in his palm and rolled back and forth affectionately, as if trying to please him. A slightly young and charming female voice emerged from the orb.

“Zhao Ming, the Holy Monarch, you’re unhappy today,” she said with certainty. “Why?”

The man smiled faintly, closed his fingers around the orb, and gently caressed it with his warm, rough fingertips, replying softly, “Just some trivial matters.”

He was unwilling to elaborate.

The orb enjoyed being held by his steady and strong hand. She allowed his long fingers to stroke her, and through their physical contact, she could sense his emotions. She liked him and didn’t want him to be sad. However, she was still a chaotic orb recovering from severe injuries and didn’t know what she could do for him. All she could do was cuddle and please him in his palm.

Warm energy enveloped his hand as he nourished her with his spiritual power. This nurturing had continued for a thousand days. Thanks to his meticulous care, the injuries she sustained during the sky-repairing incident had mostly healed, and her consciousness gradually clarified. He often told her about events in the outside world. He was the Human Emperor and Holy Monarch, the first naturally born god-channel human in history, revered and beloved by all people. Yet, he rarely experienced happiness. Every time she was in his palm, she could feel boundless sorrow and heaviness in his heart.

But this day was different from the past. He extended his index finger and drew a bloodline across his forehead. A drop of crimson blood, wrapped in golden light, was drawn out from his brow. His handsome face instantly turned pale, as if enduring intense pain. His slightly trembling fingertip guided the drop of blood into the chaotic orb. The orb flashed with golden-red light, seeming stronger and more solid.

That single drop contained a fragment of his soul—his lifeblood. He had forcibly separated a part of his soul, drawing out most of its power to complete the chaotic orb’s revival ritual. The cracks in the orb were gradually filled by his soul essence, forming faint golden patterns—these were the power and aura of Zhao Ming, the Holy Monarch.

The orb released a comfortable sigh. Its dazzling glow softened once more, as if wrapped in countless layers of gauze. Beneath those layers of light, a slender and graceful figure gradually emerged. Her raven-black hair cascaded down her back, and the layers of radiant light transformed into silken garments, covering her smooth, delicate body. She knelt on the ground with her legs together, her skin as soft and warm as jade, emitting a sweet fragrance. She curiously looked down at her pale, soft fingers before fluttering her thick, long lashes and slowly lifting her eyes to gaze at the man standing before her, allowing him to see her clearly.

Her face was breathtakingly beautiful, yet her eyes were filled with innocent naivety.

He looked at her, momentarily entranced, as she smiled brightly, slightly parted her red lips, and called out, “Zhao Ming, the Holy Monarch!”

The mist completely dissipated. She stretched out her delicate arms, wrapped them around his neck, and leaned affectionately against his chest.

He was slightly startled, lowered his eyes, and concealed the complex emotions in his gaze. His right hand gently stroked the smooth, silky hair at the back of her head.

—Holy Monarch, the three thousand boys and girls have been sacrificed, and finally, rain has come to the East.

He stood atop the high platform, his phoenix eyes staring blankly at the heavy rain before him. His subjects were cheering joyously, celebrating the long-awaited rain after years of drought. Yet, he alone felt deep sorrow.

On this land ruled by the gods, he, as their ruler, was merely a puppet. The gods decreed his rule, and he obeyed their will. He personally sent those three thousand children into the mist-veiled Temple of Xihe, turned his back, and dared not listen to the children’s desperate cries.

His subjects believed the gods were protecting the land, completely unaware that it was the gods who had sent the three-year drought, leaving the East barren, filled with famine and corpses, even to the point where people resorted to cannibalism.

The gods fed on faith. They created fear and then offered blessings, ruling the Three Realms with absolute power, making all beings bow and worship them, thus gaining faith energy.

He was born extraordinary, unlike ordinary people, able to absorb spiritual energy from heaven and earth. His soul and body were far stronger than normal people’s. At the age of eighteen, he was revered as Zhao Ming, the Holy Monarch, worshipped by all people. But the longer he remained in this position, the more clearly he saw the truth. The people were ignorant, unknowingly enslaved and manipulated by the gods. They burned incense and prayed, offering their sincere faith, even sacrificing their own family members, to please the gods. The gods, well aware of human greed and fear, tightly controlled the hearts of millions, forcing him to watch helplessly as countless of his kin lost themselves in the abyss, living like ants, their lives as worthless as grass, arbitrarily decided by others.

To the gods, all under Xihe were but ants.

But even ants could possess unyielding hearts and the will to slay gods!

If there is no torch in this long night, then let him be the first ray of light.

No one knew exactly when Zhao Ming, the Holy Monarch, gained the company of a cheerful young girl. She wore a plain silk robe, her face was delicate and beautiful, and her every movement exuded a radiant charm that often made people lose themselves in her presence.

Zhao Ming was always especially patient with her. Whether cultivating or handling official duties, she followed him closely, her little mouth constantly asking endless questions. When he was busy with affairs, she would curl up in his arms, listening as he patiently read each word to her and earnestly answered her innocent and childish questions. She learned quickly, with a remarkable memory and the ability to draw inferences from one instance to another. Like a child, she would proudly seek his praise. Seeing this, he would smile faintly and extend his hand to gently stroke her head, as if she were still that round, little orb.

His deep voice would softly call her “A Zhu,” and his usually stern and cold face would only show a smile for her. Yet behind that smile lay bitterness unknown to others.

In the depths of the night at Chang Ming Palace, she ran barefoot to his sleeping quarters, unwilling to be separated from him. He told her that men and women should be separate, but she stubbornly insisted she was just a bead. As she spoke, she rolled back and forth on the bed until she reached his arms.

Just like the past thousand days and nights, she loved the warmth of his palm and the rough touch of his fingers upon her. But she no longer wanted to return to being a bead. She loved being held in his hands, but she preferred taking human form, using her arms to embrace him in return.

“Zhao Ming…” she gently nuzzled her head against his chest, feeling him sigh softly before tightening his arms around her, pulling her closer.

Occasionally, Zhao Ming would take her out of the palace to play. They changed their appearances and he held her hand, guiding her to see bustling temples filled with incense, devout yet numb citizens, girls with straw stuck in their hair, and elderly people dying by the roadside.

Her eyes, black and pure, looked on half-understanding. She held his hand, sensing only his inner sorrow and restrained anger.

“Zhao Ming, why aren’t you happy?” she only cared about him.

Zhao Ming lowered his head, gazing into her clear, mirror-like eyes. He did not answer her question but instead softly asked, “A Zhu, why did you mend the sky back then?”

Back then, during the great battle among the gods, the sky cracked and the earth sank. The Three Realms were on the brink of collapse. It was the Chaos Pearl that transformed into a sky-mending stone, filling the crack in the sky, and thus suffered severe injuries and fell into silence for ten thousand years, until she met Zhao Ming and regained consciousness.

Zhao Ming believed that perhaps deep down, she was kind-hearted and compassionate, which led her to sacrifice herself to mend the sky.

However, she said, “It was the will of Heaven that made me do it.”

Zhao Ming was slightly taken aback: “The will of Heaven?”

She nodded: “Back then, I didn’t have my own consciousness. It was because of you that I began to become human, gaining a human appearance and emotions.”

Zhao Ming was silent for a while before asking, “A Zhu, if it were you now, would you be willing to sacrifice yourself to save the world?”

“Hmm?” A Zhu was a little surprised but did not hesitate to refuse, “No way! Why should I sacrifice myself to save people who have nothing to do with me?”

“To you, are all these beings unrelated to you?” Zhao Ming asked.

A Zhu smiled and said, “Of course. Whether it’s the gods or the humans, we all come from chaos. My existence, along with the Book of Heavenly Mandate, is merely to maintain the order of this world. As for the lives and deaths of beings in this world, they have nothing to do with us.”

The Chaos Pearl and the Book of Heavenly Mandate were formed from the primordial chaos and were embodiments of the Heavenly Dao, existing beyond the Three Realms and belonging to no faction. He selfishly wanted her to understand the human world, to feel compassion for humanity, and even hoped she could be willing to fight and sacrifice herself for the suffering humans, just as he did.

But she said she wouldn’t…

Later, he never brought it up again, but he suddenly left for a period of time and returned from the abyss with a divine artifact, naming it Jun Tian. In the following decade, Jun Tian became a terrifying weapon feared by the gods. The lofty deities never imagined that a mere mortal could become such a powerful and terrifying existence. Alone, with just one sword, he stormed the Temple of Xihe, shattered countless temples, crushed every god statue, and deprived the gods of their foundation of faith.

How could mortals dare to defy heaven and slay gods!

But was he truly just a mortal? He was the first and only naturally born god-channel human in the human race, born with a heavy destiny, shouldering the rise and fall of his people, tearing open the dark curtain that obscured the sky. He was the destined child of heaven, Zhao Ming the Holy Monarch, a threat the gods could not easily deal with.

In the end, the enraged gods had no choice but to summon the Book of Heavenly Mandate to suppress the child of fate.

That day, a bamboo scroll appeared above the Temple of Xihe. Two black characters, written with powerful strokes and a sorrowful style, emerged. The aura of chaos surged forth, making even the gods kneel in trembling fear.

—Heavenly Mandate!

A long, strong hand extended from the void, gently grasping the bamboo scroll. A figure gradually appeared along with it.

Dressed in a green robe like a tall pine or jade, tall and straight, his eyebrows like distant green mountains, his eyes like a calm autumn lake, neither sorrowful nor joyful, neither angry nor resentful, he stepped forth like a figure from a painting, completely out of place with this world.

“Who summoned the Heavenly Mandate?” His thin lips parted slightly, his deep voice without any emotion.

The gods lowered their proud heads, their eyes filled with malice: “We, the gods, summon the Heavenly Mandate to slay the evil monarch!”

The Heavenly Mandate’s gaze fell upon the handsome man holding Jun Tian, his pitch-black, deep eyes pausing slightly.

“The child of the Heavenly Dao, can be subdued but not killed,” the man said indifferently.

The gods spoke again: “We summon the Heavenly Mandate to subdue the evil monarch! Let him be sealed forever, and let the human race never have such a ruler again!”

They wanted to erase the existence of Zhao Ming the Holy Monarch, to obliterate the disgrace of the gods’ defeat, thus restoring the unquestionable glory of the gods. They would make all beings once again kneel before them, devoutly worship, and offer their lifelong faith!

The Heavenly Mandate slightly nodded: “Okay.”

The bamboo scroll flew from his hand, expanding into a massive scroll that covered the sky and blocked the light of the sun and moon.

The Heavenly Mandate’s voice echoed in the darkness: “Zhao Ming, the evil monarch, defied heaven and slaughtered gods, and is now sealed in the Molten Abyss.”

There was no force in this world that could resist the Book of Heavenly Mandate. The Book of Heavenly Mandate, the power of chaos, wrote the karmic threads and redefined the world.

What the Heavenly Mandate declared was the truth.

The Heavenly Mandate, holding the decree of heaven, bound Zhao Ming the Holy Monarch with the power of law. A gloomy aura arose from his heart, and a dark red spot appeared on his left chest. The dark color kept spreading, staining his golden armor into a deep crimson. His jade crown cracked, his black hair flew, and Zhao Ming, the Holy Monarch, slightly trembled as he held his sword, resisting the erosion of the law’s power. He struggled to lift his head, his handsome face no longer dignified and pure. His phoenix eyes swirled with crimson killing intent.

The Holy Monarch had finally fallen into demonhood.

At that moment, the cognition of all living beings was altered. No one in the world knew of Zhao Ming the Holy Monarch anymore. They only knew of a fallen god sealed beneath the Molten Abyss.

The man who had given everything for the human race left nothing behind.

No, he left many things.

In his final moments, he scattered all his cultivation, and meteors fell from the sky into the sea of humanity. From then on, the human race began their path of cultivation, no longer living like ants, at the mercy of the gods’ tyranny.

He did not become a torch, a single light went out, but countless sparks were left behind.

One could say he had no regrets…

If there was any, it was her…

His phoenix eyes closed for ten thousand years.

When his phoenix eyes opened, ten thousand years had passed…

Before him was a sea of molten lava, and raging flames burned within his phoenix eyes.

He was Zhao Ming the Holy Monarch.

He was the fallen god.

He was also Xie Xuechen.

But now, he was no one. He was the Demon Sovereign!

Bright red robes like fire, phoenix eyes burning like torches. A torrent of demonic energy surged into his body, billowing his robes as terrifying changes unfolded beneath the Molten Abyss.

The crimson moon shone brilliantly, and the entire Demon Realm trembled. The void sea churned with demonic energy, and countless demons looked on in horror at the catastrophe unfolding.

“The Molten Abyss is collapsing—”

Demons fled in all directions, panic-stricken, yet there was nowhere to escape. Terrifying auras surged from the depths of the Molten Abyss, and the pressure from the soul made their legs weak and unable to flee. They could only tremble in fear and watch.

Watching a red figure slowly emerge from beneath the collapsing molten abyss, all the crimson moonlight gathered upon him, illuminating his handsome yet cold countenance.

— Xie Xuechen?

— No!

— I am the Demon Sovereign!

On this day, the Two Worlds Mountain trembled violently. Demon energy arrived from the west, causing panic among the people of the world.

The old Demon Sovereign was dead, and a new one had risen.

The birth of the new Demon Sovereign was unprecedentedly powerful, even surpassing Sang Qi. Yet Xie Xuechen resigned as Sect Leader and vanished without a trace, his fate unknown.

Only Nan Xuyue knew that Xie Xuechen was dead—the life star that belonged to him had extinguished completely. And on that very same day, Mu Xuanling awoke.

She opened her lifeless eyes, as if realizing something. Her mind was still in chaos, yet tears had already begun to fall on their own.

For three days after awakening, she neither ate nor drank, spoke nor uttered a single word. Primordial chaos energy gradually returned to her body, and day by day her physical form recovered, but her heart remained utterly still. No matter what Nan Xuyue and Abao said, she showed no reaction at all.

The Immortal Alliance was thrown into chaos due to the disturbance from the Demon Realm. Elder Xuanxin had been closely observing the changes in Yongxue City. Upon learning of Mu Xuanling’s revival, a strong sense of unease surged within him, and he immediately rushed to Yongxue City.

“Lord Nan, now that Mu Xuanling has revived, has Xie Xuechen already met with misfortune?” Elder Xuanxin asked gravely.

Nan Xuyue, dressed in a simple green robe, solemnly nodded.

Xuanxin lowered his gaze slightly, then pondered, “So it’s true then—Mu Xuanling is indeed the reincarnation of the Chaos Pearl…”

Nan Xuyue looked at him, instantly seeing through his thoughts: “Elder Xuanxin, you want to use the power of the Chaos Pearl to confront the Demon Sovereign.”

Xuanxin nodded and said, “With Xie Xuechen gone, no one can rival the Demon Sovereign. We can only rely on the Chaos Pearl’s power to protect the Ten-Thousand Immortals Formation. In recent days, the demonic energy has surged, and the breach in the Ten-Thousand Immortals Formation has grown increasingly larger. I fear we won’t be able to stop the Demon Sovereign. I intend to appoint Mu Xuanling as the new leader of the Immortal Alliance, and He Xianwo agrees with this decision.”

Nan Xuyue gave a faint mocking smile and said, “It’s better not to accept that position at all. Once they treated her as the Holy Maiden of the Demon Clan, scorning and tormenting her endlessly. Now that they have a need for her, they merely see her as a weapon for the Immortal Alliance.”

Elder Xuanxin sighed, “The past cannot be undone; it was the Immortal Alliance’s failure to see clearly. But if Xie Xuechen were here, he would also wish to protect this mortal world.”

“That’s because he was a fool, defending a world that wasn’t worth it,” Nan Xuyue said indifferently. “Xuanling is the Chaos Pearl; she doesn’t belong to this world. Why should she sacrifice her life for it?”

His protective tone was obvious. Elder Xuanxin frowned slightly and said, “I would like to speak with her in person.”

Nan Xuyue closed his folding fan and replied coldly, “Elder Xuanxin, you are a wise man. I believe no further words are needed for you to understand.”

Xuanxin said, “One must do what must be done when duty demands it. I believe Mu Xuanling will understand and be willing.”

Nan Xuyue replied unhappily, “She is unwilling.”

Xuanxin countered, “Then why did she invite me here?”

Nan Xuyue was startled.

At Snow-asking Cliff, Nan Xuyue found Mu Xuanling alone. She stood beneath an ever-snow-covered pine tree, gazing at the majestic yet desolate snow-covered peaks stretching for miles.

“Xuanling, you’re really here…” Nan Xuyue slowly approached her from behind, his expression complex as he looked at her back. “Elder Xuanxin said you volunteered to go to the Two Worlds Mountain, to kill the Demon Sovereign and defend the Ten-Thousand Immortals Formation.”

Mu Xuanling neither turned around nor answered. Instead, she asked, “Nan Xuyue, do you still wish to cultivate the Jade Palace Sutra and restore your divine aperture?”

Nan Xuyue was taken aback.

Mu Xuanling turned her head slightly to look at him. Her clear, alluring eyes, once filled with deep affection for someone else, now showed only indifference toward him.

Nan Xuyue smiled bitterly and said, “You only want to settle things between us and be free of debts.”

“Nan Xuyue, in my entire life, I can and will only owe one person,” Mu Xuanling lowered her gaze, hiding her sorrow. “But he’s gone now. I promised him that I would spend the rest of my life with him, guarding the Ten-Thousand Immortals Formation.”

Back then, he was still by her side. She had thought they still had a long life ahead together. But in the blink of an eye, she was left all alone in this world. She wanted to pluck the Elixir Lotus and climb the Celestial Ladder to ask the celestial official what price Xie Xuechen had paid for her revival. But even that would have to wait another two hundred years until the Elixir Lotus bloomed again…

Two hundred years… a lifetime for many, but she could wait.

“He’s gone, but your life is long. The Chaos Pearl exists as long as the heavens do. Will you guard the Ten-Thousand Immortals Formation forever?” Nan Xuyue stepped closer, his hand hesitated midair before slowly curling into a fist, restraining himself from touching her shoulder. “I don’t care about the length of life. A thousand years of solitude is worse than a hundred years of companionship. Xuanling, if you feel indebted to me, I don’t want the Jade Palace Sutra. I only ask for a hundred years of your long life. Will that be okay?”

She saw his deep affection and humility. She was moved, but only slightly, feeling merely touched and apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly, then raised her hand. Her pale, cool fingertips touched his forehead, channeling pure chaos energy into his divine orifice, which had been utterly destroyed by demonic energy.

“Mu Xuanling,” she said, “you deserve someone who will love you completely.”

Nan Xuyue closed his eyes in sorrow, “But if it’s not you, it means nothing.”

The chaotic energy surged like a warm current from his divine aperture into every limb, yet his heart remained icy cold. Nan Xuyue suddenly felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his forehead, as if old wounds had been mercilessly ripped open—bleeding invisibly yet rendering him even more awake. It was as though a faint light had ignited in his mind, abruptly awakening memories long buried in the depths of his soul.

(Note: “清醒” is retained in parentheses as it appears to carry contextual nuance. If a full translation is preferred, it can be rendered as “clear-headed” or “lucid.”)

Alternatively, for a seamless English version without annotations:

The chaotic energy flowed like a warm current from his divine aperture through every limb, yet his heart stayed frozen. Nan Xuyue was suddenly struck by a piercing pain in his forehead—as if ancient wounds had been torn open anew, bleeding invisibly yet sharpening his awareness. A faint light seemed to kindle in his mind, jolting awake memories entombed deep within his soul.

(Choose based on stylistic preference.)

Nan Xuyue’s body trembled. He abruptly opened his eyes, and a mighty force surged from his divine aperture, knocking Mu Xuanling’s hand away. Her fingers tingled slightly, and she looked at Nan Xuyue in shock. He was kneeling on the ground with his head lowered, his dark hair cascading forward, partially covering his handsome face, making it impossible to see his expression.

Thinking he was injured, Mu Xuanling hurried forward to check on him. She reached out to touch his forehead, but her wrist was caught by his cold hand.

Nan Xuyue slowly lifted his head. His eyes, meeting hers, were pitch black, deep like an endless starry sky. His usually refined and gentle face now appeared unusually cold and indifferent.

“Nan Xuyue?” Mu Xuanling called hesitantly.

Nan Xuyue’s eyes flickered, seeming to regain a bit of vitality. Yet his gaze toward her was strange.

“Nan Xuyue… hah,” Nan Xuyue tightened his grip on her wrist, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he looked at her with an unfamiliar expression, making Mu Xuanling feel uneasy.

“Do you forget me?” he asked her, as if also speaking to himself. “It must be because of the injuries… again and again, for that person…”

“You’re not Nan Xuyue!” Mu Xuanling’s eyes flashed with determination. She used her right hand to forcefully break free from his grip and struck his chest with her palm.

Nan Xuyue didn’t dodge, taking the blow head-on and staggering backward a full zhang. She had controlled her strength and didn’t intend to hurt him, yet she was even more surprised when her attack not only failed to injure him but was instead neutralized and absorbed.

Nan Xuyue smiled faintly. In an instant, his figure vanished from where he stood, reappearing behind her. He placed his hands on her thin shoulders and whispered softly and deeply in her ear.

“Forget me, it doesn’t matter.” Mu Xuanling panicked as she realized she had been restrained by him, unable to move, left only to be pulled into his embrace. His cold fingertips traced her cheek. “Let’s get to know each other again.”

“I am the Mandate of Heaven.”