Chapter 325: Human and Heaven

A majestic sword's silhouette hung high above the clouds, invisible to those on the ground.

Ning Changjiu, just as he had arrived, traveled day and night, enduring the elements. The sword beneath his feet hummed continuously, excited by the long-awaited journey.

From his vantage point on the sword, Ning Changjiu surveyed the landscape as wilderness, forests, and cities sped by. The world's scenery, amidst mountain ranges that undulated like dragons, shifted and changed. Three days later, a cluster of somewhat familiar towns appeared in his sight.

Ning Changjiu had never actually visited this particular town, having only glimpsed it in passing during his previous travels between Luoshu Tower and the Ancient Spirit Sect.

As his spiritual power began to wane, a strange tremor suddenly stirred in his heart. After a moment of hesitation, he turned his sword back and flew towards the town.

The ethereal glow in the sky diminished, and he silently landed on a dilapidated bridge outside the town, without disturbing a single speck of dust.

Ning Changjiu observed the town shrouded in the night. Like others he had seen, this town had tall, thick walls, watchtowers, and guard posts. It suggested a populace with a formidable character, where villagers could pick up a hoe and be ready to fight monsters.

Ning Changjiu watched intently for a while but found nothing unusual.

The midday sun fell behind him, and the water beneath the bridge shimmered with ripples.

Ning Changjiu took a step, instantly appearing at the town's entrance. He took out a document bearing the Ancient Spirit Sect's emblem and handed it to the town guards. The guards had never seen such a high-level fire pattern, but their duty was to defend against demons and evil spirits, so they rarely obstructed humans.

Ning Changjiu, clad in a green robe, entered the town.

Limestone walls were visible everywhere in the town, and rubble littered the ground. A strong, salty, meaty smell permeated the air, coming from the animal meat hung by residents outside their homes. This place was vastly different from the poetic charm of Lotus Field Town; here, a sense of wildness prevailed.

The young man in the green robe drew many gazes as he walked through the town. Even a small monkey on a rooftop, helping an old farmer repair his house, cast a curious look his way.

Ning Changjiu paid no mind, simply following his intuition forward.

Gradually, the figures around him thinned out.

Beyond the town, Ning Changjiu saw a slowly flowing river, covered with duckweed and algae. The water's surface glittered with fragmented gold, and among the swaying water plants, the incomplete reflection of a Buddhist temple was outlined.

Ning Changjiu looked up and saw the ancient Buddhist temple.

The temple was a two-story building, with wooden doors and posts made of neatly fitted rectangular pieces. Its exterior wooden structures were delicate and intricate, long weathered by time, their paint faded, resembling the trunks of ancient eucalyptus trees.

Ning Changjiu observed it quietly for a moment. There was no aura of demons or recluses inside, only the serene sound of chanting, devoid of sorrow or joy.

Ning Changjiu crossed the bridge and entered the temple, just like any ordinary worshipper.

Inside the temple, he paused. His gaze involuntarily drifted to a corner—there sat an old man with disheveled hair and dirty clothes.

At first glance, Ning Changjiu knew the old man was insane.

The old man looked up, his eyes remarkably clear, unlike those of a madman.

Just then, a monk emerged from within the temple. Ning Changjiu asked him about the old man.

The monk told him that the old man had come from the west, leaning on a rotting wooden staff, his feet terribly worn by the time he arrived. No one else was willing to take him in, so out of compassion, the temple had given him shelter.

Ning Changjiu asked, "From the west? How far west?"

The monk thought for a moment and said, "Someone did come looking for him, his son, I believe, to take him back."

Ning Changjiu asked, "He didn't leave?"

"No," the monk replied. "He said he didn't recognize the son and insisted on staying here, refusing to go back. So, his son gave the temple some money for his upkeep and left alone."

"Where was his son from?" Ning Changjiu asked.

The monk replied, "Somewhere near the Dizzying Cosmos Sect, it seemed."

Ning Changjiu nodded slightly and said, "Thank you, Master, for clarifying."

The monk asked, "Do you know him?"

Ning Changjiu said, "No, I don't. I came to offer incense and seek good fortune. I just became curious when I saw the old man."

"Seeking fortune, hmm..." The monk nodded, looking at Ning Changjiu's empty hands. "Incense is sold at the entrance. Be sure not to burn incense from elsewhere; the Buddha won't recognize it, and it won't be effective."

Ning Changjiu smiled and nodded.

He bought several bundles of incense, lit them for Xiang'er, Jiajia, and Xiaoling, and paid his respects to the deity without kneeling. Seeing his generosity, the monk approached again to promote newly released incense. Ning Changjiu politely declined with a smile, then left the temple and approached the old man.

He looked at the old man, and the old man looked back at him.

Ning Changjiu was certain he had never met the man, yet for some reason, he felt a strange sense of familiarity.

"Am I right?" the old man asked, staring at him intently.

Ning Changjiu didn't understand, but after a moment's thought, he humored him and replied, "You are right."

The old man's madness seemed to be provoked: "If I am right, then the world is false! The world is wrong!"

Ning Changjiu frowned, puzzled by the cryptic words, and mused, "What if you are wrong?"

The light in the old man's eyes immediately dimmed. He remained in a daze for a long time, then asked in a hoarse voice, "If I am wrong, then where is this place? How did I get here?"

The old man looked up at the sky, directly at the sun, his pupils showing no aversion to the light.

Ning Changjiu vaguely felt there was something hidden in his words and asked again, "Where do you come from?"

The old man stared blankly for a long time, then, after much deliberation, raised his hand and pointed north, saying, "I came from there."

Ning Changjiu gently shook his head, pointing in another direction. "Your son said you came from the west."

The old man's words were unshakeably firm as he pointed north: "I came from there."

Ning Changjiu asked, "Then what did you come here for?"

The old man said, "I forgot something very important, and I want to... find it back."

"Where did you lose it?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"In the darkness!" the old man declared emphatically, his face filled with genuine pride. "There's a secret in the darkness that only I know!"

Ning Changjiu asked, "What is it? I can help you look for it."

The old man laughed foolishly, then suddenly burst into tears. "I can't remember. I feel like I can get it back, but... there's no more time."

He looked up at the sky.

Ning Changjiu suddenly sensed a wisp of aura from the old man, an ineffably profound presence, like a dandelion floating to the highest heavens or a white cloud sinking into the deep ocean.

This mysterious and stirring aura was far beyond the Purple Court realm...

Peak Fifth Realm?!

Ning Changjiu's mind reeled.

But... no matter how he looked at it, the man before him was just an ordinary old man, without a trace of spiritual power, appearing to be only seventy or eighty years old.

But what was this Dao realm about?

The old man himself seemed unaware of any abnormality.

He stared at the sky, murmuring to himself in a mad frenzy: "If I'm wrong... if I'm right, if I'm right, if I'm wrong... if I..."

Ning Changjiu stood beside him, silent.

At one point, the old man seemed to awaken from a dream, his eyes suddenly flaring with brilliance: "I'm right! I must be right!"

*Boom!*

A bolt from the blue.

The previously bright sky suddenly unleashed a torrential downpour. Monks came in from outside, complaining about the erratic weather. They glanced at Ning Changjiu and asked, "Benefactor, don't stand out in the rain. The Buddha's light doesn't reach outside, and you might catch a cold from the rain. Er... Benefactor?"

Ning Changjiu, clad in his green robe, stood rooted to the spot.

His shoulders were wet with rain.

The monk approached, about to speak, but suddenly froze.

Before the young man, the old man lay motionless on the ground.

"He's dead," Ning Changjiu said.

The monk, recovering from his shock, sighed, "Alas, death might be a release for him. I haven't studied Zen long enough to recite profound scriptures, but I'll ask my master to come and chant a complete sutra to help him transcend and secure a better afterlife."

Ning Changjiu looked at him, and after confirming several times that he hadn't seen wrong, calmly stated, "He died three months ago."

The monk froze. The spring rain lashed at his back, and a sudden chill raised goosebumps all over him. He quickly clasped his palms, uttered "Amitabha," and stammered, "This is sacred Buddhist ground, Benefactor. Please don't scare people."

Ning Changjiu stood in the rain, silent.

The monk felt increasingly uneasy, thinking, *Could madness be contagious?* He immediately hunched over and ran back into the temple.

Ning Changjiu looked at the old man.

He hadn't been able to prevent the old man's death just now.

Because he really had been dead for a long time... But if he had been dead for so long, then who had been inhabiting his body for the past three months? And who was the madman who had just spoken to him?

Ning Changjiu reached out and touched his chest.

The sense of spiritual connection had vanished without a trace.

The rain came as quickly as it left.

When the monk emerged from the temple again, the green-robed benefactor had vanished without a trace, leaving only the old man lying cold and lonely on the ground.

The monk looked up; a rainbow arched over the temple.

Ning Changjiu had already departed on his sword. He had used a soul-searching mystic art to examine the old man's body but found no useful information.

He was an ordinary man, an ordinary man who had died three months ago.

He believed his encounter with the old man was no accident.

He even felt he had seen or heard of him somewhere before.

But he couldn't recall anything.

Ning Changjiu rode his sword back; the Ancient Spirit Sect was no longer far.

Ancient Spirit Sect.

The trees on the mountain mist had sprouted new buds. The setting sun illuminated the mountain, bathing everything in its quiet glow, like warm, red screens.

Siming stood on the iron chain bridge leading to the Hall of Nine Netherworld, a chasm of ten thousand feet silent beneath her. Her dark, silhouetted robes caught the warm sunlight. Gone was her usual smile; her demeanor was calm and reserved, as if she had withdrawn from the mundane world, shedding all earthly dust and donning the banner of a departed divine realm as her dress.

Lu Jiajia emerged from the Hall of Nine Netherworld, with Ning Xiaoling skipping behind her.

Lu Jiajia crossed the suspension bridge spanning the perilous peak and softly asked, "Are you leaving, Sister?"

Siming gently nodded her elegant head.

Lu Jiajia said, "You are the Sect Master of the Ancient Spirit Sect. How can a Sect Master simply leave without permission?"

Siming said, "Ultimately, I have my own destination."

Lu Jiajia asked, "The Divine Realm?"

Siming said, "I'm not sure, but I always feel that somewhere in this world, an unknown mission awaits me."

Her words were ethereal, leaving Lu Jiajia feeling lost in the clouds. With a slight pout, she ventured, "Are you afraid of my husband returning?"

Siming smiled faintly and said, "What's wrong? Is it that my sister cannot bear the whipping and wishes for me to stay and share your burdens?"

Lu Jiajia was always helpless against many of Siming's remarks.

Siming said, "It's the last day. Walk with me for a while."

Lu Jiajia quietly followed.

Ning Xiaoling leaped onto Siming's shoulder, intimately wrapping herself around her neck.

Siming gently rubbed Ning Xiaoling's head and said, "After I leave, no one will bully you anymore."

Ning Xiaoling complained aggrievedly, "Why are you leaving, Sister? Is Xiaoling's tail no longer fun to pinch?"

Siming caressed her ear and said, "Xiaoling, don't you actually turn into a vixen."

Lu Jiajia walked gently beside her and said, "Are you really not going to wait for Changjiu? Don't worry, I'll just say that you treated me very well these past few months."

"Oh? Did I treat you badly?" Siming retorted.

Lu Jiajia conceded, "Of course... you treated me very well."

Siming said, "I hope that the next time we meet, you, my sister, will already be a Fifth Realm Sword Immortal."

"Yes, I won't slack off," Lu Jiajia said, though she couldn't hide the disappointment in her heart.

The two women and one fox crossed the suspension bridge, gazed at the ten surrounding peaks, and then, passing through the vast twilight, watched the sunset together.

The sun set in the west, yet still required one to look up.

The whole world seemed to shrink.

Lu Jiajia's white robes were like snow, her dark hair cascaded past her waist and hips. Siming's black dress was like night, her silver hair flowed down her shoulders and jade-like back, swaying to her ankles. On their faces, the light dimmed, and night enveloped their unparalleled features, leaving only their eyes reflecting a starlike glimmer.

"In Luoshu Tower, learning that you were not merely a character in a book but a real existence was one of the happiest things for me in a hundred years," Siming suddenly said.

"Me too," Lu Jiajia blinked, sincerely asking, "What were the other happiest things?"

Siming said, "When the Era of the Sinful Sovereign passed, the first time I left Breakboundary City and saw the starlight like water filling the sky, and on New Year's Eve, when we watched fireworks together..."

Unconcealed emotion flowed in Siming's cold, icy eyes, like emeralds crystallized within a glacier. She stood still, facing the night-covered mountains, then suddenly gave a soft laugh: "Of course, the only drawback is that Ning Changjiu was present for all these things; otherwise, they would truly be wonderful memories worth cherishing."

Lu Jiajia looked at Siming's pale crimson lips, thinking that if her husband were there to back her up, she would dare to scold her for being stubborn.

Lu Jiajia asked, "After you leave, what will happen to the Sect Master position of the Ancient Spirit Sect?"

Siming said, "Isn't there a descendant of the Underworld Lord under the Netherworld? If not, there's always Xiaoling. You can have Xiaoling put on airs out front while you rule from behind the curtain."

Lu Jiajia frowned. "Why does that make me sound like an old hag?"

Ning Xiaoling chimed in, "Xiaoling also thinks it sounds like she's an old monster!"

Siming smiled faintly. "Then you two, big and small fox spirits, just wait for the great villain Ning to return and subdue you."

Lu Jiajia thought, *It's a pity the great demon king is getting away.*

She glanced at the steadily darkening sky, knowing Ning Changjiu wouldn't be back anytime soon.

All feasts must end, but upon sudden realization, looking back, one only feels how fleeting the time was.

"Let's go back," Siming suddenly turned and walked towards the Hall of Nine Netherworld.

Lu Jiajia asked curiously, "What are we going back for?"

Siming said, "Naturally, it's for you to remove the slave tattoo for me. What? Did you think I would truly let you break through to the Fifth Realm and avenge yourself?"

Lu Jiajia struggled, "It won't look good if it's asymmetrical."

Siming said coldly, "Then perhaps I should tattoo two symmetrical ones for you, sister?"

Lu Jiajia reluctantly followed.

Inside the room, Lu Jiajia and Siming performed a ritual to remove the fire pattern from the inner side of Lu Jiajia's left thigh.

Siming smoothed her skirt, her bare, tender jade-like feet stepping into the cool night.

Ning Xiaoling was perched on the windowsill, wagging her tail, gazing longingly.

Siming stepped out of the house, treading on the jade-like petals of pear blossoms scattered across the courtyard.

Lu Jiajia also stepped out and suddenly asked, "Sister Xueci... do you like my husband?"

These words reached Ning Xiaoling's ears, startling her so much that she nearly fell off the windowsill.

She sat stiffly, pretending not to have heard anything.

Siming, however, showed no change in expression. She walked slowly forward, her silver hair swaying like the wind sweeping through the courtyard.

"I am a divine official, but I do not love mortals," Siming said, her expression serious.

She walked towards the door.

Ning Xiaoling hopped up, offering her tail, and said, "Don't go, Sister."

Siming chuckled, gently picked her up by the scruff of her neck, and placed her on the ground.

Ning Xiaoling watched her longingly.

Siming walked out the door.

Sword Pavilion.

Liu Xihuan sat in the floating grotto-heaven, wearing a light blue pleated skirt, her snowy feet swaying in the ethereal ripples, her gaze fixed on the setting sun.

Liu Junzhuo walked behind her and asked, "Wan'er, are you coming along?"

Liu Xihuan said, "No, I'll stay here in the pavilion and quietly cultivate my swordplay."

Liu Junzhuo sighed, "Whether you go or not, always remember that you are now a disciple of the Sword Pavilion, not anyone's sword. You are your own master, understand?"

Liu Xihuan nodded gently. "I understand all the principles."

"Is it that you can't do it? Or has your affection for him grown imperceptibly?" Liu Junzhuo asked with a faint smile.

Liu Xihuan stated firmly, "Although my senior sister tricked me into choosing a female body, my Dao heart remains steadfast. I merely regard him as a lifelong adversary."

Liu Junzhuo didn't press further, saying, "That's for the best."

Liu Xihuan asked, "Senior Sister, how do you plan to win back the sword?"

Liu Junzhuo said, "If he's reasonable, I'm willing to offer him guidance in swordsmanship as an exchange. If not, then we'll just have to gamble again."

Liu Xihuan frowned, lacking confidence. "Gamble again? When gamblers get desperate, they can easily lose everything."

Liu Junzhuo said, "Don't worry, this time your senior sister knows her limits."

Liu Xihuan nodded. "Yes, Ning Changjiu is full of tricks, Senior Sister, be very careful!"

Liu Junzhuo calmly nodded, her gaze fixed on the water's hue.

Liu Xihuan asked, "By the way, Senior Sister, what exactly are our enemies? In this world, who is worthy of being an enemy of the Sword Pavilion?"

Liu Junzhuo said, "I haven't seen them either, and I'm not even sure if they exist."

"They might not even exist?" Liu Xihuan was even more confused.

Liu Junzhuo said, "Yes, there are fourteen of us in the Sword Pavilion. If that war truly breaks out, then at that time, every two disciples of the Sword Pavilion will be responsible for containing one enemy... This is also why a total of fourteen disciples were chosen for the Sword Pavilion."

"What?" Liu Xihuan's face showed shock. "Senior Disciple Sister is the second strongest in the world, and you, Sister, are the seventh strongest. Which sect's main disciple would require the two of you to join forces to contain?"

Liu Junzhuo sighed with a faint smile. "We... might not even be enough, but it doesn't matter."

She paused, revealing a secret: "When the divine oracle descends, we will all be imbued with true divinity. You, and all the disciples of the Sword Pavilion, only need to cultivate to the peak of the Purple Court realm as quickly as possible, and then slowly await that day."

Liu Xihuan gently lowered her head. She didn't know who the enemies her senior sister spoke of were, nor who she would have to contain in the future.

Silver Snow Palace.

On a throne cast from pure silver, a young girl sat, like snow-colored amber.

She was entirely clad in pure white, exuding an awe-inspiring majesty and unattainable beauty that all beings would have to revere.

She seemed to have slept for countless years, her face serene, devoid of any emotion.

But today, this supreme being of the Silver Snow Palace slowly opened her eyes.

Her eyes were also pure white, like a thin layer of jade, behind which was silver, on the verge of melting but not yet.

She rose from the throne, her slender, snow-white body leaping down.

The silver gown covering her body instantly disintegrated, its fabric scattering and reassembling, transforming in an instant into a perfectly tailored divine robe that made her appear utterly majestic.

Baizang emerged from the Snow Palace's divine hall. The divine officials and heavenly lords, who had been waiting beneath the Milky Way for a long time, bowed respectfully.

"Beneath the Milky Way, nothing and no one can hide," the divine official whispered. "Everything is as the Divine Lord said; the final location has been confirmed. It was there that the Sinful Sovereign returned without success."

Baizang said, "If not for the Sinful Sovereign, this matter might have remained hidden indefinitely."

They were referring to Breakboundary City. The existence of Breakboundary City was an insult and contempt for the Divine Lord's omniscience and omnipotence.

"The strongest and final power attainable by mortals is hidden within Breakboundary City. When does the Divine Lord plan to depart?" the Heavenly Lord respectfully asked.

Baizang said, "When Kunlun emerges and the Moon Kingdom appears, I will project myself into the mortal realm and personally unveil this heaven-shrouding secret."

Lu Jiajia looked at the courtyard outside the door.

Pear blossoms lay like snow in the courtyard, and Siming was no longer to be seen.

Ning Xiaoling also watched quietly.

Suddenly, her ears twitched and perked up.

Then, her paws immediately clutched her stomach, and her body fell from the balcony, rolling on the ground in pain, whimpering incessantly.

Lu Jiajia was startled and immediately ran to Ning Xiaoling's side, injecting spiritual energy and anxiously asking, "Xiaoling, what's wrong?"

"The... authority... ah." Ning Xiaoling trembled all over, her expression utterly pained, as if currents of air were raging inside her, tearing her body apart. "The power of authority... I can't control it... ah!"

Hearing the young girl's screams, Lu Jiajia was burning with anxiety. She transferred spiritual power, trying to protect Ning Xiaoling's body, but Ning Xiaoling only writhed in pain on the ground, and her protective spiritual power seemed completely useless.

"Ah... Master, ugh..." Ning Xiaoling's nine tails thrashed wildly as she continuously rolled around the courtyard.

Amidst the screams, a familiar figure reappeared in the otherwise empty courtyard.

"What's wrong?" Siming emerged from the night, anxiety etched on her brow.

She hadn't gone far, having paused at a distant eaves to gaze for a while, and upon seeing Ning Xiaoling suddenly rolling around in pain, she didn't think twice and immediately returned.

Ning Xiaoling clutched her belly and whimpered, "Sister Siming... it hurts... wuwu."

Siming placed her hand on Xiaoling's body and probed with her spiritual sense, detecting no abnormality.

Siming felt a twinge of suspicion.

"Xiaoling, what exactly is wrong?" Siming asked.

Ning Xiaoling's voice was broken. "Sister, I promised you... I promised that when Senior Brother returns... I, I would remind you. See, I didn't break my word, did I?"

The pained expression on Ning Xiaoling's face was replaced by slyness.

She blinked at Siming.

Siming's expression hardened. She raised her hand and angrily exclaimed, "You wicked fox spirit! How dare you trick your sister? I'll wring your tail off today!"

Lu Jiajia was slightly stunned, still processing what had happened.

Outside the door, a familiar voice rang out:

"Who is bullying my junior sister?"