Chapter 369: Lotus Pond Silhouettes

The moonlight passed the corner of the eaves, casting bright squares on the window. The somewhat simple bed was tucked in a corner. Without mosquito netting or bed curtains, the woman and the young girl lay pressed against each other under a thin cotton quilt, the faint moonlight serving as a delicate veil for their bed.

Ning Changjiu finished speaking and stared intently at Siming.

They were very close, their skin almost touching. The warm air between the covers mingled. They could feel each other's breath and heartbeats, which even synchronized to the same frequency, as if they were one. Ning Changjiu quietly watched her eyelashes, her silver hair, and her exquisitely sculpted features. Beyond the cold beauty bestowed by her divinity, a gentle charm now emanated from her.

Siming froze. Her body, slightly bent as she lay on her side, tensed. Her gaze instinctively darted away, but Ning Changjiu kept watching her. After a brief moment of fluster, she met his gaze again—his eyes were so clear and bright. This feeling was familiar to her, like the night sky she had long gazed upon when she was still a divine official.

They needed no words; their gazes alone revealed their feelings for each other.

Since their reunion in Duanjie City, the barrier built between them during their past confrontations, when they had been at odds, suddenly vanished. The only distance remaining between them was that from lip to lip.

In an instant, the scenes her Senior Sister had made her witness stormed through Siming's mind like a tempest of light and shadow, engulfing her. The boy's murmurs as he climbed the moon pillar intertwined in her heart. Under his gaze, these emotions suddenly intensified, blazing through her body like wildfire, leaving her flushed and burning.

She dared not even breathe, for her breath too had grown hot, and this sudden warmth threatened to expose the tumult in her heart.

They gazed at each other for a long time, motionless.

Siming had originally intended to use Lu Jiajia and Zhao Xianger as excuses to deflect the situation, but the words caught in her throat.

"I... I like you too."

Siming said this, her voice very soft, as if it had slipped through her teeth. She felt it was the tone of a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl, but she did not want to shy away from her true feelings, and she could think of no better answer.

Ning Changjiu smiled.

And so, the distance between their lips vanished.

Everything felt utterly natural, like a petal gently kissing dew in early spring, like sea spray soaking the beach at high tide, like the white mist veiled in the valley before dawn, or the fiery black of twilight burning between dusk and dark.

They drew closer, the last remaining barrier between their bodies warmed away.

This should have been the moment for baring their souls, for all emotions to culminate in a physical climax, but due to Ning Changjiu's current physical condition, they only kissed for a while before shyly parting.

The moonlight by the window brightened once more.

Meanwhile, in the deepest part of the Unseeable Temple's Daoist Hall, the large doors slowly opened. Senior Sister and Second Senior Brother, looking solemn, entered the hall and knelt gently on the ground, one on each side.

From behind the white gauze curtains, the faint coughs of Ye Chan Palace could be heard.

Her figure trembled within the white gauze, like a candle flame in the wind.

After a long fit of coughing, Ye Chan Palace's voice finally subsided.

After much hesitation, Senior Sister could not help but ask, "Master, given your condition, why force the opening of Kunlun?"

Second Senior Brother also said, "If it's merely to temper our Junior Brother, the cost might be too great."

Ye Chan Palace's tone remained calm: "We will inevitably battle the Twelve Divine Kingdoms sooner or later. The opening of Kunlun marks the day of war, and there is no better time than now."

Senior Sister said with concern, "But Master, your health is poor, and you've been using your authority so frequently lately, I fear..."

As Senior Sister spoke, she suddenly recalled something and said, "Master lacks the authority of infinity, because a part of it, specifically time, was lost during the twelve years of reversal. But Junior Brother and Junior Sister Xueci possess time. If their authorities were merged, could infinity be restored and Master's injuries healed?"

"No," Ye Chan Palace replied. "In my previous life, my choice of Ning Changjiu had profound meaning. Besides, what good is holding infinity? It would only mean eternal existence here, a mere state of invincibility."

To be unbeatable is still to be defeated.

Senior Sister sighed softly, remaining silent.

She was already among the most powerful people in the world, yet at this moment, she still felt powerless to change the course of events.

A moment later, the great doors opened again, and Fifth Senior Brother arrived, late. His Daoist robe still bore black scorch marks from an explosion during a test.

He bowed respectfully to his Master and senior siblings in apology, then knelt and sat down beside them.

"Alright, everyone is here. Let's discuss serious matters," Ye Chan Palace said.

Fifth Senior Brother asked, "Is it about Evil?"

Ye Chan Palace hummed in affirmation, then parted her thin lips and recounted the story Ning Changjiu had told them.

The three knelt and sat, listening quietly.

A short while later, Ye Chan Palace finished the simple story.

The story was very simple, sounding like a fable meant to lull children to sleep.

"What are your thoughts?" Ye Chan Palace asked.

All three lowered their heads, deep in thought.

Senior Sister was the first to offer her opinion, thoughtfully saying, "'Land of Perpetual Day' should refer to this world. As for 'Lash Platform'... perhaps it refers to the eyes."

"No," Fifth Senior Brother shook his head. "Lash Platform definitely refers to the Dark Lord. This is crucial and very clear. What's more, even with such clarity, Evil still provided us with a hint. The term 'Lash Platform' might be derived from the idiom 'zhu tai an jie,' which implies something hidden or secretly conceived."

Senior Sister nodded slightly, understanding dawning. "Zhu tai an jie" (珠胎暗结) — remove the characters for 'knot' and 'fetus', and you get 'dark' and 'pearl'.

Fifth Senior Brother said, "First, we need to figure out what 'Painting Wood' represents."

It was something that ran throughout the entire story.

In the Land of Perpetual Day, the world was originally colorless. Painting Wood brought colors, and colors, like swords, also gave them power.

Second Senior Brother said, "The reference for Painting Wood is also quite obvious."

Senior Sister and Fifth Senior Brother both looked at him.

"It's spiritual energy," Second Senior Brother said. "The Painting Wood was retrieved from the abyss of the Sea of Hope, which the young man described as the lowest point in the world where spiritual energy gathers and sinks. All the spiritual energy in the Land of Perpetual Day must have been in that abyss. In the story, spiritual energy was likened to Painting Wood and then extracted."

Senior Sister hummed in acknowledgment and said, "The six sections of rope perhaps refer to the six great cultivation realms."

Fifth Senior Brother agreed with this view. He asked, "Then why was the young man severely injured after emerging from the deep well?"

Second Senior Brother said, "Perhaps the well repelled him, or it could be..."

Senior Sister interjected, "It could also be that when the Princess lifted her axe to chop the 'tree,' she wasn't actually chopping a tree... those axes might have landed on him instead, and the initial spiritual energy was taken from his body."

This explanation was chilling.

"Spiritual energy, cultivators..." Fifth Senior Brother mused. "There's no doubt. In the story, people could only live for ten years originally, but they gained longevity by acquiring colors, which is consistent with spiritual energy."

Senior Sister said, "But at the end of the story, this young man represents darkness. If colors can overcome darkness, why would he want people to gain colors to defeat himself?"

Fifth Senior Brother gently shook his head; he couldn't yet extract that meaning from the many clues.

Second Senior Brother said, "There's another question: what would happen if the Princess truly painted night for that world?"

Fifth Senior Brother said, "Perhaps people would then gain the power to resist darkness."

Second Senior Brother grew more puzzled: "What then does black represent?"

Everyone fell silent.

Senior Sister recalled the story and suddenly said, "The young man painted the king's eyes."

Second Senior Brother and Fifth Senior Brother immediately understood—the king's colorblindness might also be related to him.

"Mistaking purple for black... Right, when the young man introduced the various colors earlier, he seemed to deliberately omit purple." Many thoughts flashed through Fifth Senior Brother's mind. He seized one and said, "In this story, does purple equal black?"

Second Senior Brother countered, "Then what does purple refer to?"

"It's the Purple Palace," Senior Sister stated coldly, providing the answer.

The Purple Palace...

Everyone understood instantly and exclaimed in unison:

"Innate Spirits?!"

After a brief moment of astonishment, everyone fell silent once more.

No one knew when Innate Spirits originated.

Nor did anyone know why some possessed them while others did not.

They resided in the Purple Palace from a cultivator's birth, aiding them in their practice and even serving as their weapons.

But if the Purple Palace symbolized darkness, did that imply that Innate Spirits would betray them?

Powerful cultivators didn't necessarily possess Innate Spirits, but anyone who did was certainly an elite on the path of cultivation. If one day all Innate Spirits were to betray them, and cultivators' lives were intimately tied to them, who could resist such a betrayal from within their own bodies?

Senior Sister said calmly, "There's no need to be alarmed. Suspicions about Innate Spirits have existed since ancient times."

"Mmm," Second Senior Brother and Fifth Senior Brother replied, unable to hide their anxiety.

They continued to analyze other references in the story.

"The demon that devoured the seven colors..."

"That should be those outer gods from the Great Beginning. They came here to seize the spiritual energy of this realm," Fifth Senior Brother said.

"Yes, the high cliff of the Lash Platform should refer to the path of ascension," Second Senior Brother also said.

"All those who ascended were killed," Senior Sister sighed. "Unlike the people in the story, who knew a demon lived on the Lash Platform, cultivators in the human realm believe the end of the Dao is the Immortal Court, great freedom."

But in essence, there was no difference.

Fifth Senior Brother nodded and said, "We cannot shatter the cultivators' obsession. We can only ascend to the Lash Platform faster than anyone else, kill that entity, and forge a true path for all cultivators."

By this point, the story had been mostly interpreted.

However, everyone shared a thought: what Evil intended to convey was certainly more than just these things.

Something was missing from the story, something they hadn't yet figured out! And that, perhaps, was the key to defeating the Dark Lord.

Currently, Evil was controlled by the Dark Lord, but the Dark Lord's infiltration of the world was clearly not as unfettered as he wished. So, over the years, Evil had not only created the Heaven List, attracting heroes and talents from all directions, but also countless Spirit Lists, drawing cultivators and sorcerers from various regions. He must have intended to convey something through these lists.

Inside the Daoist Hall, the three disciples each pondered their thoughts, no longer speaking.

Ye Chan Palace, who had been silently serene, now gently parted her lips and asked faintly, "What exactly is black?"

The three disciples exchanged glances.

In the story, black was the initial shroud over the world, the blood and bones of the young warrior, an indispensable color...

But what did it truly refer to?

Was it a specific type of spiritual energy?

That answer seemed a bit forced.

No one could give a definitive answer.

This marked the end of the night's discussion.

The three disciples left the main hall.

Behind the white gauze, lotus shadows swayed. The Abbot's figure was as light as a wisp of wind, and coughing sounds once again emanated from the hall, continuing through the night without pause.

As the first rays of sunlight pierced through, Siming rose early from the bed. She covered Ning Changjiu's eyes with the quilt, then began to change her clothes.

Siming put on her divine robe, which always remained spotless.

In the interplay of light and shadow at dawn, Siming stood barefoot, like a jade statue. After tying her white ribbon, her perfect figure was even more clearly outlined, like a painting with stark contrasts of light and dark.

Ning Changjiu watched her figure, regretting that his injuries had not yet healed.

Siming began tidying the room. She tied her silver hair behind her, sometimes bending, sometimes standing on tiptoe, busying herself around the room. She looked so industrious that she almost gave the illusion of gentle domesticity.

She set up a stove to boil medicine.

"Xueci," Ning Changjiu called.

"Hmm?" Siming accepted the address.

Ning Changjiu said, "When we go back, let's be honest with Jiajia."

Siming, with her back to him, said leisurely, "Be honest about what? We merely said we liked each other. I also like flowers, herbs, morning glow, and evening twilight. Do I need to report all of that to Lu Jiajia? Besides, why should I report to Lu Jiajia? Is she older than me?"

Ning Changjiu smiled helplessly. With this proud woman, whose words didn't match her heart, he had no leverage. He could only try to influence her with love, which always felt somewhat powerless.

Ning Changjiu said, "We are meant to be together in the end."

Siming said, "Who wants to be with you? I'm returning to the Divine Kingdom."

Ning Changjiu said, "Your Divine Kingdom was already destroyed by Master."

Siming thought for a moment, then said confidently, "Master probably wants to promote me to a divine official."

"Stop dreaming. How could it be your turn? How are you better than Senior Sister?" Ning Changjiu mercilessly splashed cold water on her enthusiasm.

With a *smack*, Siming slammed the table, turned around angrily, and said, "Oh, so you not only harbor improper thoughts about Master, but you don't spare even Senior Sister? Hmph, I'm not as good as her? If I'm not as good as her, then let her take care of you!"

"I..." Ning Changjiu was speechless and could only coax her gently, "I just don't want you to be someone else's divine official. I'll always have a place for you."

"Who cares..." Siming lowered her head, biting her red lip, and said, "Then explain again why you must report to Lu Jiajia. In your eyes, is she your chief Daoist companion, and are we all just expendable extras?"

Ning Changjiu said helplessly, "Are we supposed to keep it from Jiajia?"

Siming said calmly, "No need to explain. That little girl Jiajia... I'll handle her. When we get back, you're not allowed to help her. I'll show her who's boss first and see if she dares to put on any airs of a main wife."

Ning Changjiu could only give a wry smile, playing along deceptively and agreeing.

Siming's mood brightened even more at the thought of getting revenge for her dreams once they returned. Hmph, she couldn't beat Master, but she couldn't deal with this little sword immortal with black hair and white robes?

"Alright, don't move. I'll apply the medicine for you."

Siming fetched the stone box gifted by Senior Sister to treat Ning Changjiu's injuries.

Holding the stone box, she walked to Ning Changjiu's side, turned his body, unbuttoned his clothes, and applied the medicine.

"I haven't tried this medicine myself. If it doesn't work, blame your Senior Sister, don't blame me," Siming said, applying the Xirang soil to his wounds.

Ning Changjiu sighed with a laugh, "I guess I'll just blame my bad luck."

Fortunately, the Xirang soil indeed possessed miraculous efficacy. Wherever it was applied, wounds healed completely, scars melted away, and new skin regenerated, proving even more effective than the authority of time.

Aside from a few areas, all other external injuries healed completely in a short time.

Siming also found it wondrous. She secretly put aside the remaining amount, saving it for future use.

Siming then brought over the herbal soup, gently blowing on the boiled liquid with her jade-like lips to cool it.

She took the spoon and fed Ning Changjiu the medicine.

"It's a bit bitter," Ning Changjiu said.

Siming smiled serenely and said, "Close your eyes."

Ning Changjiu closed his eyes.

The feeding continued.

After a long while, light re-entered his eyes. He saw Siming gently wiping the corners of her damp lips, smiling as she asked, "Is it still bitter?"

"Very sweet," Ning Changjiu also smiled.

The days of recovering in the Unseeable Temple were very quiet.

Siming, as usual, gently lifted him into his wheelchair and pushed him out to see the lush green mountains, beautiful waters, and the birds, fish, and insects that should have been extinct in the Unseeable Temple.

More often, they would come together to the cliff edge, gazing at the sea of clouds and listening to the whispers of the pines.

This was when Ning Changjiu felt most at peace.

His injuries were terrifyingly severe.

When he had carried Siming to the Daoist Hall earlier, what he carried was no longer his own body, but merely a wisp of obsession.

His meridians were severed, his acupoints destroyed, his bones cracked, and his sea of qi punctured.

If he hadn't been in the Unseeable Temple, he would now be a corpse or a lingering wisp of soul.

Siming was deeply aware of this. So, although she usually enjoyed bickering and teasing him, her anger was always feigned, intended to gently curb his temper. When they slept together, if Ning Changjiu felt even the slightest pain, Siming would immediately wake up, ask with concern, and treat his injuries.

Although she remained verbally defiant these days, her care for Ning Changjiu was consistently meticulous.

Ning Changjiu was also well aware of this.

Senior Sister, Second Senior Brother, and Fifth Senior Brother were still in the temple. These days, they also frequently came to visit their Junior Brother and Junior Sister.

Among them, Senior Sister was the most enthusiastic; she visited Ning Changjiu almost daily to check his progress in reading the books she had compiled.

Ning Changjiu's recovery came ten days later.

These were ten seemingly peaceful days.

In the afternoon, Siming pushed Ning Changjiu into the wheat field. Ning Changjiu placed his hands on the armrests and slowly pushed himself up. He sensed the location of his Sea of Qi, opened his long-depleted Sea of Qi, and absorbed the spiritual energy filling the surroundings.

The entire sky opened up for him.

Ning Changjiu's breathing was deep and continuous. The wheat swayed gently with the rhythm of his breaths. His mind resonated with the world, as if the world didn't contain him, but rather he enveloped the entire world. All movement and stillness in this place became extended with his every inhalation and exhalation.

Siming stood to one side, her brows, previously furrowed with worry, gradually relaxed.

She also smiled.

Spiritual energy flowed into his Sea of Qi, not provoking any pain. Instead, it filled his body, merging with him, transforming into the foundation of his being.

Ning Changjiu seemed to stand still, yet also seemed to be in some unknown dimension, observing himself dispassionately. He was both human and heaven, an unshakeable truth, and an elusive self.

Ning Changjiu was very familiar with this feeling.

During his battle with the Sin Lord, he had drawn the silver holy sword from Siming's body, and time and fate merged into infinity. In that moment, he had stood at such a profound and brilliant nexus.

Ning Changjiu reached out, as if grasping the sky.

That was the authority bestowed by heaven and earth when one entered the Fifth Dao.

He didn't know the name of this authority, but he could feel that it might be related to bows and arrows.

Before he could fully comprehend the mysteries of the authority, the Golden Crow flew out of his Purple Palace, fluttering its wings over the surging Sea of Qi, scattering golden light into every corner. It gracefully spun its figure, as if battling the wind and waves.

Ning Changjiu had officially entered the Fifth Dao.

Siming smiled genuinely.

Amidst the wheat, Ning Changjiu glanced at the wheelchair that had been his companion for more than ten days, then his gaze softly fell upon Siming.

Siming met his gaze. The breeze stirred, her silver hair clinging to her porcelain-white cheeks, her long dress smoothing over her graceful curves.

They were so close again.

They leaned in closer.

Siming rose slightly on her tiptoes and kissed him.

Ning Changjiu embraced her.

Spring had not yet passed; in the lingering breeze, everything was about to be nurtured in warmth, blooming into unique flowers.

Unfortunately, another voice untimely chimed in, interrupting them.

It was Ye Chan Palace's voice.

"Changjiu, come to my hall."

At these simple words, both immediately sensed trouble and sprang apart as if shocked.

Ning Changjiu bowed towards the Daoist Hall and acknowledged the command.

In the Divine Hall, candlelight flickered faintly.

Ning Changjiu pushed open the slightly ajar hall door, knelt before the white gauze, and said, "Thank you, Master, for sheltering and caring for me these past days. Changjiu is now well."

"Hmm," Ye Chan Palace replied without emotion, only saying faintly, "After today, when you descend the mountain again, I may not have the leisure to look after your life or death. From now on, you must face everything alone."

Ning Changjiu was slightly surprised, wondering why his Master would say such things.

He was silent for a moment, then tentatively asked, "Master... are we going to war with the Divine Kingdom?"

Ye Chan Palace said, "It shouldn't be at this time, but I can no longer afford to delay."

As she spoke, her faint coughs filtered through the gauze, like a chill, frosty wind.

"Disciple... understands," Ning Changjiu gently bowed, stating earnestly, "After leaving the temple, I will be cautious in all matters, so as not to cause Master any unnecessary worry."

"This has nothing to do with your caution," Ye Chan Palace said. "If someone truly intends to kill you, it will be futile even if you flee to the ends of the earth."

Ning Changjiu asked, "Who exactly wants to kill this disciple?"

"The Sword Pavilion," Ye Chan Palace answered. "As my disciple, you are an enemy of the Sword Pavilion. Moreover, the Sword Saint's first strike was meant to kill you. Since that strike failed, he likely won't give up."

Ning Changjiu nodded gravely.

Though he had now broken through to the Fifth Dao, he was certainly no match for the Sword Saint. If the Sword Saint truly wanted to kill him, what could he do?

Ning Changjiu said, "I will try my best to avoid trouble. But if the Sword Saint truly makes a move against this junior, I will never back down."

"Hmm," Ye Chan Palace nodded her graceful head slightly and said, "After delivering the sword, remember to go to a certain place."

"What place?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Duanjie City," Ye Chan Palace said. "Have Siming escort you there. At this moment, she can already traverse the Abyss of Time."

Ning Changjiu didn't understand why, but remembering his promise to Shao Xiaoli, he nodded slightly.

"Your disciple will remember everything," Ning Changjiu said.

Ye Chan Palace coughed for a while, then said, "Do you have any other wishes?"

Ning Changjiu was slightly stunned and did not answer.

Ye Chan Palace said, "If not, then you and Xueci may descend the mountain today."

"Yes!" Ning Changjiu took a deep breath and suddenly said.

Ye Chan Palace said, "Speak freely."

Ning Changjiu said nervously, "I... I want to see Master's appearance."

Ye Chan Palace did not feel offended; instead, she granted his request.

Suddenly, the wind within the hall grew louder.

The white gauze billowed, and the figure behind it swayed, like the wind caught in the fabric.

Layer upon layer of gauze curtains slowly parted.

Ning Changjiu held his breath and focused, feeling a momentary sense of bewilderment.

He had expected his Master to refuse or even reprimand him.

In this unexpected realization, he finally saw Ye Chan Palace's true form clearly.

It was a tranquil lotus pond, dimly lit. A dark green gown spread across the water's surface, veiled in white gauze. The countenance Ning Changjiu saw was hard to describe with mere beauty; she seemed the epitome of stillness, the peak of elegance, as if the supreme sanctity of the clouds had signed her into being.

Ning Changjiu knelt motionless, staring blankly ahead. His Dao heart was already firm, yet he was still profoundly shaken by everything he saw.

But what shocked him most was not this unprecedented beauty.

It was Master's appearance.

What Master had described as 'extremely poor condition' was now undeniably revealed before him in a visible form.

Ye Chan Palace sat gracefully within a lotus dais.

The silhouette behind the surrounding white gauze remained that of a graceful woman.

Yet, wearing this Daoist robe,

she looked like a little girl who had secretly put on adult clothes.

High-speed text: Chapters of 'Above the Divine Kingdom'