The dawn light rose, the sword pierced through the sky, and white clouds drifted like a sea of snow.
Jiang Zhiwei seemed utterly uninterested in the gray-robed monk Meng Qi’s appearance, his current condition, or his ten-year disappearance, and flew with him toward Jiangdong.
Her voice was soft and clear, neither fast nor slow, as she spoke: “Yushu’s heart is devoted entirely to the zither, becoming more ethereal and refined, exuding a serene and transcendent aura—except when eating. Hehe.”
She encountered a rare stroke of luck within the cycle task, obtaining a fragment of the *Dragon-Turtle Longevity Score*. In the real world, after continuous integration, she was finally acknowledged by the Zither of Salvation and became its new master. Though unused in the cycle, it brought her immense benefits. She ascended to the Ninth Heaven last year, becoming a peak Outer Scene expert—a renowned zither immortal in the martial world, depicted as extraordinarily enchanting.
“They all said Master Ruan would pass away earlier than Elder Shoujing and Grandma Matriarch of the Xiahou Clan, but with the aid of the Eastern Longevity Pill, his lifespan remains sufficient. He has ample time to calmly pursue the path of a Dharma Body without haste, creating favorable conditions for Yushu to master the Zither of Salvation. Unfortunately, Elder Shoujing, who had great hope of breaking through, still failed. The Dharma Body, indeed, is the dividing line of immortals—the path to ascension, truly arduous.”
Meng Qi listened silently, neither speaking nor interrupting.
Jiang Zhiwei’s voice remained melodious as she continued: “In recent years, Yushu has completed many divine tasks, accumulating good karma. Recently, she finally gathered enough to complete the《Dragon-Turtle Longevity Score》, combining it with her own《Sky-Shattering Earth-Changing Melody》, uniting life and death, seemingly reflecting the ancient path of Emperor Fu, shrouded in deep mystery…”
She has also gathered numerous zither scores and recipes within the cycle of reincarnation, even teaching herself to cook. Her culinary skills far surpass mine. However, in her early attempts, she frequently failed—chicken wings burnt on the outside yet raw inside, fish chunks turned into charcoal, soups as salty as seawater…
Her voice carried a smile, and the scenes seemed to unfold vividly before Meng Qi’s eyes.
“…Zhao Heng has reigned for over a decade, currently wielding the Emperor’s Sword. He has become much more composed and dignified, but the Jin Dynasty is constantly being eroded by the Northern Zhou. Without a Dharma Body, it will eventually face Gao Lan directly, so he grows increasingly silent outwardly, concealing his inner worries.”
“Restricted thus, after becoming a Grandmaster, the enhancement from the power of the masses began to slow. He remains in the Ninth Heaven, unable to see hope of crossing the third heavenly ladder.”
He has experienced numerous destinies within the cycle of reincarnation, all connected to emperors. The “Book of Prophecy” and the refinement and application of collective power have profoundly shaped these corresponding fates.
“Four years ago, Senior Qi finally escaped from the Ninth Hell, suppressing the Demon Emperor’s claw with his own cultivation method. He did not lose his nature or become cruel and insane, but his philosophy—well, it was not popular. He was regarded as an enemy by major sects and families, and the organization he founded was called the ‘Red Demon Sect,’ listed among the Nine Heresies.”
“I have focused on the sword path, neither opposing nor agreeing with Senior Qi’s views, so I could only stand aside for now.”
“With Elder Yan Wuxiao of the ‘Flying Night Mara’ reaching the Half-Step realm, and the Immortal Trace deliberately maintaining a low profile over the past decade, we have managed to endure—though many members still fell in Samsara, such as Pure Yangzi, Chi Jingzi, and the Old Mother of Lishan. After several replacements, we now have twenty-nine members.”
“Doumu Yuanjun remains unchanged, taking on only one or two reincarnation tasks every decade. With her divine weapon, she can manage on her own, yet the distance to attaining a Dharma Body does not appear to have shortened.”
“Now, Yushu and Zhao Heng have also survived their third death task, and we can once again experience reincarnation together.”
Her voice was pleasant, recounting things slowly, and Meng Qi’s ten-year absence, his decade-long void, was gradually soothed, as if he had never left. The invisible estrangement had not even formed before it vanished.
“And you?” Meng Qi finally spoke, his voice low, his eyelids drooping, concealing his eyes.
“Me?” Jiang Zhiwei chuckled lightly. “In these ten years, I had two tasks, one to the Shu Mountain World and another to a fragment of the Demon Realm. I witnessed many different cultivation methods and gained new insights into the myriad paths leading to the same truth.”
“Six years ago, it was a death task, and I’ve been resting ever since.”
“When I crossed the third heavenly ladder, I suppressed my realm slightly, mastering ‘Severing the Dao to See the Self’ and ‘The Dao Spans the Universe’ based on the general principles of the ‘Seven Sword Cuts to Heaven’ before breaking through, experiencing one more task than usual.”
“These past few years have brought many achievements, but only a few are truly memorable: ‘Lord of the Six Oceans’ whose will penetrates martial arts, almost immune to external evils and impervious to change; ‘Living Buddha of the Wheel’ whose mental power rivals a Dharma Body, using esoteric Buddhist techniques to turn illusions into reality, trapping people in a sea of suffering; the ‘Ghost Mother’ within the Demon Realm fragment, whose malevolence is unpredictable and extremely dangerous. A slight lapse in will instantly plunges one into eternal hell…”
As she spoke of these matters, Jiang Zhiwei unconsciously elaborated, as if still savoring the memories.
…
The voice drifted, bit by bit painting the past, recounting ten years, as if time had never caused separation.
At the end, Jiang Zhiwei’s face turned serious, her brows slightly furrowed: “Do you know about this task?”
“I didn’t check,” Meng Qi sighed.
With his mindset back then, how could he have investigated the next task, though he had a vague suspicion.
The dim light had already entered Jiangdong. Jiang Zhiwei hesitated slightly before saying, “We’ll discuss the details later. The general plan is ‘Return to Lingshan.'”
Return to Lingshan?
Where countless Buddhas and Bodhisattvas perished, where the Great Sage’s roar echoed through eternity…
Where the Angler glimpsed in the Valley of Immortality resided…
Indeed so… Meng Qi remained silent, his gaze unchanged, all emotions and vitality seemingly hidden deep within.
…
The light descended, landing atop a mountain. Before them stretched iron chains across the river, with twin peaks standing in opposition.
Wang Siyuan waited inside an ancient pavilion atop the summit, having set a table and brewed tea, its fragrance gently rising, serene and tranquil.
At the sight of Meng Qi, he first froze, then began coughing violently, his coughs tearing at his soul, spitting blood like fine rain, staining the pavilion crimson.
“You’ve reached this point… no wonder my calculations were unclear,” Wang Siyuan picked up his teacup, sipped slightly, swallowing the blood in his mouth, his tone a mix of lament and madness.
Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei sat opposite him in silence. The gray monk’s robe fluttered with the mountain breeze, like a weathered statue.
Only the muscles on his chest still moved, expelling blackness, slowly healing himself.
Wang Siyuan set down his teacup, tapping his lips with his right fist: “The union of body, soul, and dharma forms the Dharma Body—the threshold of immortality, the gate of Longmen. Were I the Angler, I’d reel in the line now, lest it grow too large and wound myself.”
“This is an unavoidable calamity.”
“Since ancient times, almost no one has successfully resisted this calamity.”
He spoke abruptly, his words seemingly out of nowhere, but he believed Jiang Zhiwei understood, and Su Meng understood even more.
“If true immortality is not attained, all things share the same fate. Death is the eternal destination, differing only in timing.”
Wang Siyuan coughed twice, moistened his lips, and changed the subject: “You were always curious about the secret within the Pure Land of Shaolin’s back mountain, weren’t you?”
“Within these ten years, I’ve tested many condemned prisoners to reverse《Muscle Transformation Sutra》, but none succeeded. Duan Rui was clever, subtly altering the smallest details. However, in recent years, he has gained prominence, leaving many traces. If you wish to find him, it won’t be difficult.”
In this vast world, with the Luo Shu in hand, could the eldest Wang truly fail to locate anyone?
Jiang Zhiwei listened silently, then suddenly interjected: “Prince Wang, are you also interested in the Pure Land of Ananda?”
Her sword-heart was pure, attuned to the heavens. Wang Siyuan’s slightest emotion was sensed!
Wang Siyuan’s face paled, shaking his head with a bitter smile: “It is a knot of the Wang family.”
A knot, not a robbery.
“Where is Duan Rui?” Meng Qi asked slowly and gravely.
Wang Siyuan grasped his hand, countless tiny lights converging, each beam containing countless scenes and symbols, gradually forming into divining rods.
…
In the northern grasslands, Duan Rui plunged his hand into the chest of the man before him, pulling out his heart and crushing it slowly, feeling cruel satisfaction, his face gleaming with delight.
The “Crazy Blade” reappeared, and he was already anxious and restless, this fool had become a bandit and lost his senses, daring to intercept him!
“Hundred Flaw Demon King, the Longevity Heaven is about to return. Why not hurry back to regroup?” Elder Shao Changge of the “Brocade Weaving Hermit” frowned at the bloody scene, urging impatiently.
Ying Ning watched with a smile, indifferent yet unbothered, only worried about getting dirty.
…
The divining rods fell onto the table. As Wang Siyuan was about to pick them up for another calculation, suddenly a skeletal hand reached before him, grabbing the rods.
This hand belonged to Meng Qi!
A faint flush appeared on Wang Siyuan’s frail face as he whispered: “The cause of all consequences?”
Meng Qi did not answer. Under the gazes of Jiang Zhiwei and Wang Siyuan, he slowly took the rods, then extended his right hand holding them into the empty space beside him.
…
Duan Rui exhaled, about to speak coldly, when the space before him suddenly rippled, and a hand emerged, grasping the top of his head!
The scenery changed. Elder Shao Changge and Ying Ning vanished from sight, the grassy land with its cattle disappeared. He saw a gray-robed monk, aged and weary, his eyes expressionless, gazing at him!
The river surged, iron chains blocked the way, twin peaks stood tall, the beauty of Jiangdong!
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