Chapter 297: Entering the Netherworld

Ning Changjiu, Lu Jiajia: "..."

Siming calmly turned her head to look at her stunned companions standing rooted to the spot. "What's wrong?" she asked with a smile. "You've come to my sect, and you still haven't paid your respects to the Sect Master?"

Ning Changjiu, who had traveled through wind and snow, looked at Siming's beautiful, unparalleled face. After a moment of silence, he asked, "When did you take office? What happened to the previous sect master?"

"The former sect master intended to sacrifice all living beings in the sect to establish a nether kingdom. His virtue was insufficient for his position, and he was unfit to govern the Nine Nether Hall," Siming said calmly.

Ning Changjiu asked, "What about the elders in the sect? Did the older generation accept you? Or did you..."

Siming said lightly, "How could I commit such a massacre within the sect? You must not judge a goddess with mortal thoughts."

Lu Jiajia said skeptically, "Then why... is it so quiet?"

Siming replied, "Before I arrived, the elders and martial uncles of the Nine Nether Hall and several surrounding great halls had already been killed by the Netherworld. Their bodies were shattered, their authority seized, and they became sustenance for the Netherworld. That Netherworld is like a glutton; it will not stop until it is full."

Ning Changjiu asked, "What about Xiaoling?"

"Ning Xiaoling..." Siming paused slightly, her smile fading. She sighed softly, "Come with me."

The formation of the Ancient Spirit Sect was still active. Unlike the blizzard-ridden, icy landscape outside, within the sprawling peaks, under the lingering evening sun, the ground was covered in grasses turning from green to yellow. The world at dusk was vast and desolate. The mountains near the Nine Nether Hall were barren, but on the cliffs, dense spiritual energy hung high, transforming into liquid streams that cascaded downwards.

The colorful mist between the mountains and the sky resembled a great fog.

Ning Changjiu and Lu Jiajia had discussed many possible scenarios on their journey.

But it was only upon their arrival, gazing from the cliff's edge, that they realized how expansive and quiet this divine sect truly was.

"This is the Spirit Control Lineage," Siming introduced. "The Ancient Spirit Sect has ten lineages, with each lineage occupying a peak. To my knowledge, Ning Xiaoling cultivated here, in the Spirit Control Lineage, back then."

"Back then?" Ning Changjiu's heart jolted.

Siming nodded gently. She waved her hand, and the twilight mist shrouding the immortal rope bridge lifted like a curtain. Below the peaks, the vast sea of clouds churned, now entirely stained by the dusk, appearing like a blood-colored abyss.

Siming stated plainly, "Ning Xiaoling has suppressed the Netherworld."

Ning Changjiu and Lu Jiajia exchanged glances; their ominous premonitions and thoughts were now confirmed.

Standing on the suspension bridge, Siming said, "It's almost a month since Ning Xiaoling fell into the Netherworld. If she were truly dead, it would be a foregone conclusion, and hurrying wouldn't help."

Ning Changjiu softly hummed in acknowledgment.

Siming said, "I have sorted out all the records concerning the Netherworld; they are in the Nine Nether Hall. If you're interested, you can come with me."

Ning Changjiu said, "Just tell me the conclusion directly."

Siming asked, "Aren't you afraid I might deliberately harm you?"

Lu Jiajia replied, "If Sister wanted to harm us, why would she have saved us so many times on the way? The first time I saw you wake up, I knew Sister had a kind heart."

Siming's beautiful eyes were serene. She stretched out a finger and gently poked Lu Jiajia's forehead, saying, "When you need me, it's 'Sister' every time, but when you don't, I become 'My Lady Mistress'? When I first met you, I thought you were a kind, naive girl. I didn't expect you to learn such cunning ways now."

"I... have always admired Sister," Lu Jiajia said, her eyes sparkling and her words sincere. "Sister also saved Xiaoling's life; I imagine you're quite fond of her, too, aren't you?"

Siming thought to herself, 'If I hadn't been bullied by you two before, I might actually believe this pitiful act of yours.'

But Lu Jiajia's repeated calls of "Sister" were quite effective...

She said coolly, "Follow this Sect Master."

They did not go to the Nine Nether Hall but instead went to the wooden hall of the Spirit Control Lineage.

"This is where Xiaoling used to study," Siming said, leading them to a wooden table and pointing with a slender finger to the character 'Ning' carved into its surface. "These are her books, and this is her notebook. The handwriting in the later sections is very messy; it doesn't look like it was written by one person."

Ning Changjiu asked, "Why did you bring me here?"

Siming said, "Don't worry, I know you're eager to save her, but if you don't understand your junior sister, how can you retrieve her soul from the Netherworld?"

Ning Changjiu replied, "I understand Xiaoling."

"Is that so?" Siming smiled slightly. "How long have you known each other?"

Ning Changjiu was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "Six months."

Siming then asked, "And how long have you been separated?"

Ning Changjiu replied, "Two years and eight months."

Siming asked no further questions; everything was understood.

Lu Jiajia looked at the childish handwriting in the books and couldn't help but recall the image of Ning Xiaoling in her white dress. During the two years she waited by the Southern Wilderness Abyss, Xiaoling often came to visit her. She would frequently tell her stories of what happened on the Four Peaks, and every day she would inform her how many buildings had been repaired on the peaks, and which one was currently undergoing repairs...

Later, all the buildings were repaired, and Xiaoling's words grew fewer. Her face remained innocent, but her eyes seemed to hold unspoken worries.

Lu Jiajia had never asked, and Xiaoling had never volunteered to speak of them.

Madam Bai's authority had actually been within Xiaoling's body all this time... Did Xiaoling herself know about this?

A feeling of guilt arose in Lu Jiajia's heart.

Ning Changjiu sat down in Ning Xiaoling's seat and closed his eyes.

Siming said, "I have sent the people of the Spirit Control Lineage to other peaks. It is very quiet here now, suitable for contemplation. When you've figured things out, come find me at the Nine Nether Hall."

Ning Changjiu nodded.

Lu Jiajia smoothed her skirt along her legs and sat down on a nearby chair.

Siming, however, grasped her wrist and said, "You come out too."

"Why?" Lu Jiajia asked softly.

Siming said, "Although you possess the body of a divine weapon, you don't have true authority. Even if you cultivate to the Fifth Path, entering the Netherworld would be extremely perilous. Don't take risks, and certainly don't act foolishly."

Lu Jiajia believed her words. She nodded gently, clasped her hands on the wooden table, pursed her lips, bowed her head, and whispered, "Then I'll... sit for a bit."

Siming did not insist, turning silently and pushing the door open to leave.

Ning Changjiu and Lu Jiajia sat in the empty wooden hall, bathed in dim, yellow light that filled their clothes. They were like classmates sitting side by side, both with closed eyes, silent, as if guarding a secret in their hearts.

Ning Changjiu's mind slowly sank.

His spiritual perception gradually unfurled within his sea of consciousness.

The entire wooden hall was clearly reflected in his spiritual world.

Since the incident with the Luo Scroll, his understanding of spiritual power had reached a new level. Spirit was like another pair of eyes; the world it perceived was incredibly real, even allowing him to see himself within that world.

Ning Changjiu sensed the lingering aura in the wooden hall.

Half a year ago, Ning Xiaoling first arrived at the sect. She was assigned to the Wood Spirit Lineage and sat in this window-side seat. She always focused intently on the lecture table; no matter how beautiful the view outside the window, it couldn't compare to Mr. Shuoling's lessons.

Her hand rested on the wooden table like this, her notebook pressed under her left wrist. Her right hand held a brush.

Today, the stack of books to her left was piled high, as if to conceal something.

She... opened her notebook to the first page and began to draw...

The drawing... Ning Changjiu's spiritual perception turned the pages of the notebook, his gaze landing on the first page.

Though he couldn't quite make it out, she had definitely drawn herself.

He flipped further back.

Notes and diary entries were interspersed, some sections with neat and delicate handwriting, others messy, as if deliberately made illegible. He could barely recognize some of the characters.

As he flipped to the back, his spiritual perception paused.

The latter part consisted of self-questioning and answers concerning the swordsmanship of the Sword Enlightenment Heavenly Sect and the spiritual arts of the Ancient Spirit Sect.

These two types of techniques were like puzzle pieces.

Ning Changjiu sensed where their edges fit together and gradually became absorbed.

He felt as if he were the girl sitting there, looking at the notes, deep in thought.

Ning Changjiu pondered for a while, just beginning to grasp a clue, when the messy, ugly characters from the later pages swirled into his sea of consciousness.

Behind the characters, there was also a distinct half-cat footprint.

A cat? Ning Changjiu was slightly surprised, thinking that given the vastness of the Ancient Spirit Sect, it wouldn't be strange if a great cat demon was lurking in seclusion there.

If it truly was a great cat demon, it must be a kind and adorable one. After all, not all cat demons in this world were as ferocious as the Fish King.

As the notebook slowly turned, Ning Xiaoling's flowing thoughts also passed through his sea of consciousness.

The dusk sunlight consistently shone on his side profile.

Ning Changjiu closed the notebook, his sea of consciousness acting as his eyes, slowly gazing around.

In his spiritual world, the remaining fragments of the surrounding disciples coalesced into complete images. His sea of consciousness simulated their everyday appearance: they moved back and forth, chatting, and the surroundings were no longer desolate.

At the very back of the wooden hall, there was a solitary table. It looked quite out of place, covered with scattered cat fur and lingering traces of demonic aura... Hmm, somewhat familiar.

Do cats also attend classes with the disciples?

Ning Changjiu's gaze shifted, and he looked to his side.

Beside him, a girl in a valuable apricot silk dress sat with her elbow propped, observing the diligently writing Ning Xiaoling, and speaking softly. Ning Xiaoling occasionally responded, a charming small smile appearing on her pretty face from time to time.

She must be Xiaoling's friend.

The clues within the wooden hall were slowly drawn out. Ning Changjiu watched the coming and going scenes, his spirit gradually peeling away from the surface, reaching deeper, and examining Ning Xiaoling, who sat there, from a new perspective.

They were originally destined to be eternally united.

After a long time, in the unchanging twilight of day and night, Ning Changjiu finally opened his eyes.

When he opened his eyes, Lu Jiajia was still sitting beside him, gazing at him with tender eyes.

There were only two people in the wooden hall. They gazed at each other silently, neither looking away.

"Are you ready?" Lu Jiajia asked.

"Yes," Ning Changjiu replied.

Next, they went to Ning Xiaoling's room.

The room's structure was very familiar, largely similar to those of the Sword Enlightenment Heavenly Sect.

Ning Changjiu perceived her daily routines and movements, and the lingering fragments slowly pieced together in his mind, sketching out the image of Ning Xiaoling after two years of separation.

"Let's go, it's time to bring Xiaoling home," Ning Changjiu said, turning and walking out of the room.

In the Nine Nether Hall, Siming sat before the Netherworld, a dark, lacquered table in front of her, and beside it, an ancient ox lay prone, holding an hourglass in its mouth.

As Ning Changjiu and Lu Jiajia approached, Siming was pouring tea.

She knelt on a bamboo mat, her bare, slender, beautiful legs tucked beneath her.

"Are you ready?" Siming asked softly, guiding water into a cup.

Ning Changjiu replied, "Yes."

Siming finished pouring the tea, rested her sleeves against her knees, and slowly began, "The Netherworld is the remains of the Nether Sovereign. Its depths are also a spiritual world, but it differs from the Luo Scroll Tower. After the Nether Sovereign's death, it became a purgatory. All beings who fall into purgatory must endure endless calamities and suffering. Those with weaker wills will be lost there forever."

Ning Changjiu listened quietly. He asked, "What should I do?"

Siming gestured for him to sit opposite her.

Ning Changjiu sat down, picked up the tea, and took a sip.

Siming said, "The process isn't difficult. You need to bear the authority of the Nether Sovereign, then enter the depths of hell and awaken her from purgatory."

"The Nether Sovereign's authority?" Ning Changjiu was slightly stunned. He took out the Scroll of the Nether Immortal from his robe and gently unfurled it.

Siming said, "There is only one copy of this immortal scroll, and only you can enter the Nether Hall."

Ning Changjiu hummed in acknowledgment.

Siming stroked the fox fur on her neck and chuckled softly, "Of course, you must also be mentally prepared. A month has already passed, and your junior sister might have been devoured by the Netherworld, transformed into a ghost, or perhaps lost in purgatory, becoming a lone spirit unable to return to her body. In any case, if it's truly impossible, don't force it. Otherwise, if you don't return, Jiajia will misunderstand that I harmed you."

Ning Changjiu's expression was calm. He drank all the tea Siming had poured and said, "Don't worry, I know my limits."

Siming pressed a mechanism on the wall, and intricate mechanical gears engaged in layers. The gates of the Netherworld swung open, and ripples spread across the light curtain.

Ning Changjiu couldn't help but recall when he first arrived at Fracture City.

He put the Scroll of the Nether Immortal into his mouth, reached out his hand to touch the light curtain, and then his body sank inside.

Lu Jiajia watched Ning Changjiu's figure vanish. She remained silent, kneeling by the table, her hands clasped tightly.

Siming looked at her and smiled, "I looked through the sect's secret history, and it's quite a coincidence: over four hundred years ago, the Sect Master of the Ancient Spirit Sect and the Sect Master of the Sword Enlightenment Heavenly Sect were a pair of Dao companions. Who would have thought that after more than four centuries..."

Lu Jiajia looked up, her eyes showing a hint of resentment.

Siming poured her tea and chuckled softly, "Pray that your husband returns safely, or history might repeat itself."

Lu Jiajia took the teacup, took a bland, tasteless sip, and looked worried.

"Worried?" Siming asked.

Lu Jiajia nodded, "How could I not be worried?"

Siming's words sounded like a prophecy: "Don't worry, even if he were to die, it certainly wouldn't be here, now."

Lu Jiajia remembered him telling her about turning twenty-eight.

His previous life ended at twenty-eight. Outside Fracture City, Yechu had also said he would only live to twenty-eight. There, a destructive tribulation existed, one that surpassed his fate's light cone.

Although many years remained until that day, for cultivators, time always passed in the blink of an eye.

She put down the teacup and said, "Thank you, Sister."

Siming smiled, "Call me Sect Master."

Lu Jiajia looked at Siming's beautiful face and thought, 'This person has lived for thousands of years, why is she still like this?' As Lu Jiajia thought this, she didn't realize that Siming had, after enduring millennia, slowly transformed from an indifferent, emotionless divine official into a vibrant, living being.

"Understood, Sect Master," Lu Jiajia said. Without her husband to rely on, she was quite docile now.

Siming lifted the teapot lid, drew a stream of water with spiritual power, and then used the water as a brush to gently draw on the table.

At first, Lu Jiajia thought she was drawing a chessboard because she drew a square rectangle, then placed a dot at each of the four corners.

Then, Siming, as if placing chess pieces, drew dots in other places.

"This is the Central Divine Land?" Lu Jiajia realized.

The locations of the four dots represented the four immortal towers of the Central Divine Land.

"Yes." Siming's jade finger pointed to the Luo Scroll Tower in the southwest, then she drew a straight line from it to the right: "Along this line, there's the Dizzying Cosmos Sect, the Ancient Spirit Sect, and the Hanging Sea Tower. Isn't it strange that they form a perfect line?"

"Why is that?" Lu Jiajia asked.

Siming said, "I've discovered this recently. I've noticed that the locations of some large buildings or sects seem to follow a certain geometric pattern... very square. I don't know the exact reason. After all, the Central Divine Land is very different from how I first saw it back then."

"Different? How different?" Lu Jiajia asked, puzzled.

"Hmm," Siming said. "It's not just the Central Divine Land; this entire world seems to have undergone a... subtle change that I can't quite articulate."

Lu Jiajia said, "The Six Primal Gods fell less than four thousand years ago. In such a short time, countless rises and falls have occurred, and there are always many secrets buried beneath the surface."

"Perhaps," Siming replied.

Lu Jiajia recalled something and asked, "By the way, what exactly happened in Fracture City back then?"

Siming smiled, "What's this? Your husband isn't here, so you want to uncover his secrets?"

Lu Jiajia shook her head gently. "No, that's not it. I want to know about the deities, what Fracture City truly experienced back then, and what happened with the headless god and such?"

Siming said, "So, little sister is starting to care about these things now?"

Lu Jiajia replied, "It's something we'll have to face eventually."

Siming thought for a moment and said, "That's true."

Saying this, she wiped away the water marks on the table with her hand and said, "It's actually simple: seven hundred years ago, my divine lord's head was cut off. The process of the divine kingdom's collapse took a very long time. Five hundred years ago, Yechu and I were cast down to Fracture City, beneath the divine kingdom, where we have wandered until this year."

"Divine lord..." Even though Lu Jiajia had heard the general story, she still found it terrifying.

Siming said, "Yes, it was one of the twelve, but this event has been an unknowable secret since it occurred; even my memories are obscured. Not just me, but even the other divine lords are unaware of it. Alas, who killed the headless god, and how they did it—that is the one thing I most want to know in this lifetime."

The divine kingdom was already the pinnacle of power; besides the elusive Heavenly Dao, what other force could suppress a divine kingdom?

Siming could not fathom the answer.

Lu Jiajia then asked, "What about the Saint from five hundred years ago? At that time, wasn't another divine lord also said to have fallen?"

"Yes, it's not the same person as the headless god. The fall of this ruler was an open secret among the high ranks of the divine kingdom. Unfortunately, my divine kingdom had already been destroyed back then..." Siming sighed, "But I did manage to guess the general idea from the records of the Luo Scroll."

Lu Jiajia looked at her with curiosity.

Siming smiled, "I know what you're curious about. After experiencing the Luo Scroll Tower, you should know that the final year of that war was the Year of Thunder Prison. Therefore, the ruler who fell five hundred years ago could only have been Thunder Prison."

Lu Jiajia nodded gently.

Siming said, "But if I'm not mistaken, Thunder Prison is still alive. The fallen divine lord was someone else."

"Why?" Lu Jiajia asked, puzzled. "The battle between the Saint and Thunder Prison was the first direct battle between divine lords, and also the last. If a deity had already died before that, then who killed them? Or was Thunder Prison a scapegoat? Or perhaps the Heavenly Dao..."

"Shhh." Siming made a shushing gesture. "Do not speak lightly of the heavens. The Heavenly Dao is not truly elusive; not only does it have eyes, but it also has enforcers who walk among mortals."

Lu Jiajia nodded her head slightly, not continuing the discussion.

Siming said, "Regarding that ruler... when Ning Changjiu returns, I'll tell you both my conjectures."

As Ning Changjiu fell into darkness, the Golden Crow within his sea of consciousness awakened and let out a long cry.

The Golden Crow symbolized the light of the sun, a divine bird residing within the sun. The Netherworld, on the other hand, represented unseen darkness.

The Golden Crow was a natural enemy in the fundamental conflict of origins.

Ning Changjiu did not suppress the Golden Crow. After he fell into darkness, the Golden Crow flew out, and wherever its figure swept, there were continuous golden afterimages. These afterimages were like golden fireflies in the darkness; they gnawed and devoured the gloom, transforming it into the light of origin.

The specters that had been shrieking in his ears now all avoided the Golden Crow's golden flames.

He was like a golden meteor streaking through the Netherworld.

He traversed the eternal night-like dark sea and arrived before the Nether Hall.

In the Nether Hall, where shattered stones floated, phosphorescent flames served as candles.

The continuous streaks of the Golden Crow were like knives, carving a massive wound in the darkness... that wound was slowly closing behind him.

Ning Changjiu looked at the floating rubble of the Netherworld, his heart skipped a beat, and after a moment of hesitation, he entered the hall.

The eternal bond, severed for many years, reconnected gently between them, like a young silkworm spinning a thin silver thread.

He knew Ning Xiaoling was ahead.

His footsteps were a bit slow.

This was not homesickness or apprehension, but rather anxiety about the unknown fate between life and death.

He walked into the Nether Hall, his gaze fixed forward.

His steps came to a complete halt.

In the dim hall, a girl in a plain white dress sat upright on the stone steps, a dark red sword resting across her lap. She sat formally, as if attending a lecture in a hall.

Her countenance was still delicate, but most of her childishness had faded, replaced by a maiden's grace and beauty.

She sat quietly, eyes closed, unaware of the arrival of an old acquaintance.

But Ning Changjiu knew that by sitting there, she was waiting for him.

This wait had spanned over a thousand cycles of day and night.

Ning Changjiu walked up to her, bent down, gently embraced her soft body, and then picked her up as one would carry a small daughter.

Her soul had been separated from her body for too long, and her body had lost its warmth.

Ning Changjiu carried her to the throne.

He pulled the beautiful corpse of the Dragon Mother Empress off the throne and threw it to the bottom of the steps. Then, he carefully wiped the throne clean and, holding the girl's delicate body, gently placed her in the immense seat.

He gazed softly at the girl in the Netherworld Throne.

Ning Xiaoling sat upright within it, like a young ruler feigning sleep, ready to awaken at any moment.