Chapter 30: Journey Together to the Yellow Springs

When the sky grew increasingly dim, Li Qingcao already knew that Upper Jade Capital was in danger.

Once the dark clouds covered the sun, Upper Jade Capital would become a land devoid of light, a carnival ground for demons and monsters.

Before he had time to think carefully, his body was already moving.

Silent sword intent dispersed outward, and the scenery by the Lake of Retained Affection suddenly blurred.

The grass at the lakeshore transformed into one short sword after another.

To be like a blade of grass amidst the meadow.

Newly sprouted grass could lift up stones; the path of overcoming strength with weakness through unity was precisely found here.

Li Qingcao threw his sword into the air.

“Condense!”

Immediately, every short sword of grass upon the ground grew against the wind.

This place turned into a graveyard of swords, each blade of grass carrying sharp sword intent.

This was Daoist magic, not swordsmanship.

Though Li Qingcao had comprehended the Dao, he had yet to truly enter it.

Not yet in the Fifth Realm, yet already able to use Daoist magic—the extent of his talent was evident.

“Master once said, borrowing a sword must come from sincerity.”

The sword gave birth to two energies.

Li Qingcao unleashed a life-risking technique at the very start.

He sought to preserve even the faintest ray of light with one sword, becoming a guiding lamp and a lone boat upon the black night.

“Rise!”

Blood spilled from the corner of his lips.

His mana was utterly drained as he rose into the air.

The grass at the shore of the Lake of Retained Affection all condensed their life force into one sword, following at his side.

The lake howled with eerie winds.

Its waters turned into pitch-black sludge, finally converging into a gigantic egg, as though something was about to be born from within.

“With me here, you shall not run rampant!”

All the grass swords ultimately merged into light, gathering at the tip of Li Qingcao’s sword.

Today, he would use one sword to open the Heavenly Gate!

Thus, he advanced, sacrificing himself, gathering his sword toward the sun.

Bang!

Pain pierced his bones, his organs burning with agony.

That sword, along with his “will,” was devoured by the clouds and the egg!

Falling.

This time he was surely doomed.

As he plummeted, just when he thought he would fall into the waters, someone pulled him up.

It was a woman as graceful and pure as a lotus flower.

The woman said: “Thank you, little cultivator. But what comes next is the sin I created, and I should repay it myself.”

The woman gently pushed Li Qingcao away, and a gust of wind carried him to a noodle shop.

Someone said: “Brother Li, come, have a bowl of noodles first. Su Luo Qiu, go cook.”

If his eyes did not deceive him, the Fourth Prince of the Glazed Dynasty had cheerfully tied on an apron and gone to cook noodles for him.

A prince cooking noodles—how could he dream such a thing?

Looking up again, there was a handsome youth about his age.

Strangely, the youth gazed at him with an odd look.

Li Qingcao swallowed, the taste of blood in his mouth.

He rasped: “Brother Lu.”

“Mm.”

“My sword just now—was it dashing?”

Lu Changyuan replied seriously: “Dashing.”

Li Qingcao grinned, then lay down on his back.

He picked up a wine gourd, only to realize it was empty, so he let it be.

“That’s good. A man can die, but he mustn’t be undashing.”

Lu Changyuan held his tea, still gazing at the streak of white across the sky.

Xia Lianxue asked softly: “Young Master, will she win?”

“I don’t know.”

“There are actually things Young Master does not know?”

Lu Changyuan sighed: “If she sees through, she can win. But if she truly saw through, she would never have released the great demon.”

Luan Rumeng held her sword in one hand, sorrowful eyes watching as the Lake of Retained Affection exploded and torrents of rain poured down.

“Junior Brother.”  

Countless black columns of water surged skyward.

At last came a deafening explosion, as the forcibly suppressed fish from the lake bottom floated up dead, filling the air with the stench of rot.

Something had emerged.

It was a grotesque creature resembling an octopus.

Its bloodstained maw gaped wide, devouring everything in sight, its foul stench sweeping like a storm.

On its body lingered the aura of Jade Radiance, though only barely so.

Suppressed by Lu Changyuan for a thousand years, it had long since fallen in realm; now, it could hardly even maintain the Sixth Realm.

Holding back tears, Luan Rumeng whispered: “Junior Brother, back then I should have stopped you. I should have listened to Brother Lu and stopped you.”  

Those tainted by Desire Demons would ultimately transform into monsters devoid of humanity.

Once at that stage, even Daoist Chang’an could not reverse it.

For that meant the cultivator’s heart was filled with “desire.” There would no longer be even the slightest chance of turning back.

Restrain the self, and one remains human.

Let desire fill the heart, and one becomes a demon.

Su Wu Xiang knew this, but he wished to gamble.

He cultivated demonic arts, comprehended the path of slaughter, already at the Sixth Realm Dawning Sun, the Seventh Realm just before him—how could he resign himself?  

A seeker of the Dao must pursue the Dao with single-mindedness, unafraid of death.

He sought to transcend tribulation.

He believed in himself.

Since he had guarded his spirit clear for decades, surely he could continue.

Thus, Su Wu Xiang drew lightning into his body, tempered himself for thirty-six days, and performed the method of breaking through.

He succeeded.

He saw the fleeting scenery of the Seventh Realm Jade Radiance—but only for an instant.

In the next, Desire Demons seized his mind entirely.

This backlash of demonic arts was more severe than any before.

Unable to overcome it, he fell into demonhood.

Tears welled in Luan Rumeng’s eyes.

She thought back to long, long ago, when her junior brother had been simple and pure, trailing after her for cakes.

“Junior Brother, cultivation is cultivation of the Dao, not merely realms.”  

Cultivation of the Dao was not breaking through realms, but tempering the heart.

To persist in the Dao and to persist in power were two entirely different paths.

The former could bring one to the mountaintop to see the view.

The latter would sink one into Desire Demons, ending only in death and annihilation of the Dao.

Luan Rumeng could say no more.

Her sword was unsheathed.

Her heart had flaws, and she had not entered Jade Radiance.

Yet it also proved that beneath the Seventh Realm Jade Radiance, her sword could still connect with the divine.

Su Wu Xiang stretched out massive tentacles.

He had no consciousness, only the stubborn instinct to devour everything.

From that hideous mouth lined with spikes came a murky syllable: “Yao… Guang.”  

Luan Rumeng’s sword slashed through Su Wu Xiang’s tentacles with extreme speed.

Each wave of sword force grew higher than the last, until it tore through the heavens, illuminating the night sky.

At some point night had fallen.

The moon hung upside down.

Yet now, everyone who looked saw that moon tainted in blood.

The entire Lake of Retained Affection was cleaved apart.

A colossal pit yawned within, and eerie blue flames rose from the waters, spreading instantly in all directions.

Su Wu Xiang’s cultivation surged swiftly, in a blink reaching the peak of the Sixth Realm.

Voices of countless souls wandered through the air, as though lost spirits unable to find their way home.

Luan Rumeng looked on in disbelief: “You absorbed the resentment of those drowned here through the years? No—all the resentment of everyone who has died in Upper Jade Capital, you took it all!?”  

The great demon had accumulated a thousand years of hatred and resentment.

Once freed, it digested these chaotic wills and sought to ascend.

Luan Rumeng knew she could not delay.

She pointed her sword at the demon’s body.

It was an extremely swift strike.

The full power of her Sixth Realm Dawning Sun burst forth.

The sword Dao she cultivated was the Supreme Profound Sword, its mysterious techniques pouring into the demon’s body before violently exploding.

Su Wu Xiang’s black flesh burst apart across the skies.

Shriek!  

The great demon howled in agony.

Within its chest cavity were haphazardly assembled white bones, and countless beating hearts.

Soon, one by one, those hearts exploded as well.

The stench of rot nearly filled the entire Lake of Retained Affection.

“Yao… Guang!!!”  

Two enormous tentacles fused like a lizard regrowing its tail, countless flesh and blood knitting together, before lashing viciously toward Luan Rumeng.

The massive suction-cupped tentacles nearly severed space itself, exposing the black void within.

Luan Rumeng hurled her iron sword.

Very soon, Su Wu Xiang’s demonic body was riddled with holes.

Rotten, pus-dripping flesh tumbled forth in clumps.

Under her exquisite techniques, every one of the demon’s hearts was destroyed.

From Su Wu Xiang’s gaping maw came the faint sound of wailing.

The cry of a child in the night.

The herald of death arrived.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.