Chapter 805: Still a Youth

Chapter 805: Still a Youth

Zhao Changhe sat cross-legged in what had once been the bridal chamber, gazing at the introductory cultivation method given by Ying Wu, lost in thought.

As for the secret realm Ying Wu had invited him to fight in, it was merely a battle—no need to study space before setting out. Yet Ying Wu insisted he learn this first, not for this fight, but clearly to help him later deal with the Nine Nether.

Because the space around the Nine Nether was bound to be chaotic; without mastering the Way of Space, forget a month—a hundred years wouldn’t be enough to find anyone.

But the place Ying Wu wanted to fight had nothing to do with the Nine Nether. These were two separate matters. Why teach him this first, instead of waiting until after helping him with his own battle?

Only one possibility: Ying Wu wasn’t sure he’d come out alive. He feared he might die inside, so he settled all his affairs beforehand.

If that was the case, it meant Ying Wu knew exactly what he was facing in this fight—and seemed prepared to die.

Was it worth it…? With his own current strength as the top of the Heavenly Ranking, plus the unfathomable Ying Wu himself, who was the opponent that made him ready for death? If it was so difficult, why not wait until he cultivated further? What was the rush? And if it was that hard, why not call more reinforcements—once his wives arrived, they could swarm anyone without fear.

Could it be that, like himself, Ying Wu had a reason he had to go now, and someone had agreed to meet him alone, or only bring one helper?

Ying Wu must have his own story…

Whatever his story, since he was so loyal, Zhao Changhe would give his life to ensure he didn’t repeat the tragedy of Yu Xu and Li Shen Tong.

Zhao Changhe pondered a moment, then his mind entered the Star River Sword again.

Inside, two little girls were fighting. Zhao Changhe, used to this, stepped forward and grabbed them both by the scruff, pulling them apart: “If you’re idle, sparring is fine, but with a fierce battle ahead, save your strength.”

Long Que crossed her arms, floating cross-legged in the air, fuming: “Fighting doesn’t drain our strength. You only come to see Star River, ignoring me. You’re so biased, you stinking scumbag.”

Zhao Changhe: “?”

Where did you learn that word?

Wait, can that word even describe our relationship? Zhao Changhe, amused and exasperated, said: “I really have important business with Star River. Why are you jealous over nothing? When the battle’s over, Dad will play with you, okay?”

Long Que retorted: “You have battles every day, with only tiny gaps in between, and you spend those with a bunch of women, rushing around like you’re on a schedule. When do you ever have time for us?”

Zhao Changhe sighed helplessly: “There will be an end to the fighting… Hey, wait—aren’t you supposed to be the most excited about battle? Before, you’d jump out to chop people even when I didn’t want to, and I couldn’t stop you. Have you gone soft after killing Temur?”

Long Que paused: “That’s true. Who do we chop?”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

The blade spirit and sword spirit were one with their master. It seemed they were heavily influenced by him. When he was eager for battle, the blade spirit was eager too. Now that he was a bit weary and just wanted to spend time with family, the blade spirit seemed less keen on fighting and began to envy companionship.

Or maybe it was because he kept seeking out Star River and ignoring Long Que, finally making the neglected child snap. Without comparison, a lone blade lying in a shrine for a decade wouldn’t care. But with comparison came hurt.

Zhao Changhe ruffled her head: “This time, we only drink the blood of ancient gods. What’s Temur? My Long Que’s journey of conquest is far from over. One day, you’ll split the heavens themselves.”

Long Que tilted her head and stared at him for a long moment: “You… are so old now.”

Zhao Changhe: “Wasn’t what I said inspiring? How am I old?”

“Before, you’d argue with me, like a kid. Now you speak so gently it feels like a bug. And the annoying thing is, I can tell you mean it.”

“If you can’t make a good analogy, don’t.” Zhao Changhe tossed her back into his blade: “Never seen anyone who doesn’t like gentleness and asks to be scolded. Is this better?”

Long Que’s blade began to shake: “Stinking scumbag!”

Zhao Changhe couldn’t bother with the troubled blade. He turned to look at his left hand. Star River, with eyes black as ink, hung quietly in his grip, neither struggling nor speaking.

Now this was a good girl.

Zhao Changhe set her down and rubbed her cheeks with both hands: “Why aren’t you talking? Last time you were quite chatty.”

“Because I only talk a lot when Dad asks me things. Who wants to argue like that broken blade?” Star River said directly: “Dad seems to be able to perceive space now.”

“Yes, I got some introductory methods. I wanted to see if I could study more applications from the sword’s essence.”

“I am a sword. My abilities don’t include spatial bridging like that Ying Wu’s. I am meant to kill.”

“And I want to kill.”

Star River’s small hand grabbed Zhao Changhe’s big one that was still rubbing her face, and she mumbled indistinctly: “I am a sword, not dough.”

Zhao Changhe was about to reply when Star River before him “vanished,” leaving only the vast night sky—boundless, heavy.

These adjectives were all about space.

Hmm… if kneading dough could be seen as a transformation of space, why not…

Zhao Changhe closed his eyes, his mind merging with the night sky, and threads of insight surfaced in his heart.

…

When he emerged from seclusion, he saw Ying Wu standing at the edge of this space, stepping on the lake water, hands behind his back, staring at the gray barrier outside, lost in thought.

Zhao Changhe’s exit seemed to stir Ying Wu, who turned his head: “So fast? Any questions you need to ask?”

“No, I’ve basically mastered it.”

Ying Wu was dumbfounded: “Basically mastered?”

“Well, obviously I’m far from your level, Fifth Brother.”

“No, what did you master?” Ying Wu said. “You’ve only been in seclusion for less than half an hour. This is space—space, not basic blade techniques.”

“More is useless. I need practical experience.”

Ying Wu: “?”

Did what I teach involve practical combat?

“You said this was your bridal chamber?”

“Yes.”

“So is it because your bridal chamber was that fast?”

Zhao Changhe’s face went blank: “If it were bridal chamber speed, half an hour would be enough to kill the bride. You’ve never tried it; ignorance isn’t your fault.”

Ying Wu’s expression also went blank.

“Alright.” Zhao Changhe slung an arm around Ying Wu’s shoulder: “I had help, not just my own effort. Let’s go?”

Ying Wu, dragged along stumbling, was pushed forward into another spatial bridge, and Zhao Changhe followed him in.

“You really figured it out?” This move truly baffled Ying Wu. “What kind of help can assist in comprehending space?”

“My daughter.”

Ying Wu: “???”

“Tell me, who’s your opponent? Should we wait for my wives to arrive and gang up on them?”

“No need. Sometimes more people aren’t better.” Ying Wu composed himself and said slowly: “There’s danger ahead. If you stop here, I won’t blame you.”

Zhao Changhe smiled faintly and said nothing.

They passed through several spaces in silence until they reached the last edge. Ying Wu pressed his hand against the void and said in a low voice: “I told you before, I have a secret method to find another adjacent piece of space from an existing one and build a passage. But these two adjacent pieces can’t be too far apart, or they exceed my perception… So I need to search many known secret realms to explore more.”

Zhao Changhe hummed in acknowledgment.

“Among the secret realms I know, none contain the Nine Nether. So I can’t find it for you. This piece I haven’t entered yet is the last adjacent one I can find based on known realms. Once I master this, I can use it to explore more new ones, and maybe help you find the Nine Nether.”

“You’ve said this before. Why repeat it?”

“If I say this, do you believe me? What if I’m trying to harm you?”

“As long as you, Ying Wu, are willing to say it, I am willing to believe.”

Ying Wu laughed: "Then come in, and let me be murdered by you."

With that, he stepped forward and entered the space bridge.

It seemed the process of speaking had been the act of building the bridge—of course, it couldn't have been pre-constructed, or else the enemy might counter-invade, which would be ridiculous.

Zhao Changhe admired this ability greatly; his own so-called "basic mastery" was far from being able to construct a dimensional passage across such a vast distance with such effortless, smoke-and-fire-less conversation.

Passing through the channel to a new place, Zhao Changhe immediately shuddered, his hairs standing on end.

This was a world of ice and snow, the entire environment pure white and icy blue. At first glance, it was almost blinding, with nothing clear to see. The temperature was extremely low, so low that Zhao Changhe couldn't remember the last time he had felt cold. Yet now, with his level of cultivation, he felt bitterly cold—so cold that his flesh and blood seemed to freeze, and his very soul felt on the verge of congealing.

At the same time, his spirit was overwhelmed by a profound sense of oppression, as if ancient gods whispered in his ears. All kinds of mental assaults threatened to drive him mad—countless illusions, endless negative sensations, growing and spreading endlessly in his heart, nearly driving him to frenzy.

This was just the moment of entry, merely the edge of the space!

If the edge was like this, what would the center be like?

No wonder Ying Wu had said that a large group might not be a good thing. Since he could perceive the space, he naturally sensed its general properties. This was a problem of the entire region, not of specific enemies. No matter how many people came, each had to endure on their own, with little chance to help each other. If anyone were to falter and be lost, regret would be too late.

But theoretically, this place was most suited for San Niang.

Ice was a form of water, but more importantly, the Cthulhu-like mental assault here was exactly the same as what they had experienced at sea back then—the Sea Emperor was like that.

However, the sea was vast; though the Sea Emperor was powerful, its spiritual fluctuations covering the entire ocean were diluted. When fighting the octopus and water-men, it was merely a puppet possessed, and the Sea Emperor's true body had never acted directly due to fear of Xia Longyuan's spying. Thus, the mental assault back then was something even Zhao Changhe, with his relatively poor resistance, could endure.

Now, this secret realm's size was unknown, but it couldn't be larger than the sea. With a smaller coverage, the intensity increased ten-thousand-fold, pressing even Zhao Changhe's current cultivation to its limits.

In short, its properties closely matched their overseas experiences. With San Niang's current status as the Sea Emperor, this place was the most suitable for her. Since Ying Wu and San Niang were of the same faction, why didn't he bring her to help?

"Are you puzzled why I didn't invite San Niang here?" came Ying Wu's voice beside him.

Zhao Changhe turned to look; even Ying Wu's face had a faint blue tinge, showing that the extreme cold was hard for his cultivation to bear, and he was enduring it with difficulty.

"This is the extreme north of the former Heavenly Realm, full of mysteries. If I'm not mistaken, the ancient Xuanwu was slain here."

Zhao Changhe's heart skipped a beat.

Ying Wu continued: "To be precise, it was gravely wounded here, and though it left, it didn't survive. So it didn't die here, but was killed by something in this place. San Niang inherited Xuanwu's power, but her cultivation is still inferior to that of the ancient Xuanwu. I suspect she might be suppressed here... Even if I'm wrong, caution is paramount. Anyone can come, but not her."

"I agree." Zhao Changhe took several deep breaths and said in a low voice: "Have you been here before?"

"No. With my past cultivation, coming here would have meant instant death—I couldn't even stand." Ying Wu said: "But many years ago, I once touched the outer barrier of this space, though not from this direction. Just that experience at the outer edge, without even entering, nearly wiped out all my brothers. San Niang's mother also wanted to retire from the martial world because of it and went to Jiangnan."

Zhao Changhe: "...Given San Niang's age, that must be at least thirty years ago. How old were you then? What cultivation level did you have to be out in the world?"

"Fair enough. Ying's talent can't compare to yours, but to ordinary people, I was considered a genius."

"Indeed."

"But still, I was young and inexperienced. Back then, I didn't know the interior was even more ferocious; I thought it was about the same as the outside. Later, when I reached the level of a Heavenly List expert, I thought I could handle it and went looking again, wanting to avenge my brothers." Ying Wu said: "We had found it in the desert before, but when I went back, it was gone—as if the space had shifted. Well... it's a good thing it shifted, or else, with my reckless arrogance back then, finding it would have just been another suicide mission."

Zhao Changhe said: "So for thirty years, you've been searching, building intelligence networks across the divine continent, scouring every secret realm in the world, all with a single goal: to find this place. Your base has always been in the Western Desert, with bandits roaming a thousand miles, all for this. Even learning the way of space was for this."

After all this time, the seemingly ever-smiling, peace-loving Ying Wu was the biggest madman.

Every single thing he had done for thirty years was for just one purpose. Searching every secret realm in the world for a single one was almost like looking for a needle in a haystack, yet he had truly done it for three decades.

"Well... that last part isn't quite right. I already had some foundation in the relevant arts, and it was precisely because I had a slight understanding of space that I conceived this insane idea and was determined to find it." Ying Wu said slowly: "Perhaps you wonder why I'm so impatient. It's because I've waited thirty years and can wait no longer."

Zhao Changhe didn't reply.

Ying Wu said: "I know this isn't rational, so I didn't tell you the truth. I was afraid that if I did, you would advise me to wait. You are now the leader, bearing many responsibilities, and it's hard for you to charge headlong into danger like in the old days. I don't want to wait, and I don't want any more delays—lest the thing here connects with the stronger demons of the Nine Abysses, and then I might never have a chance for revenge. So indeed, I deceived you."

Zhao Changhe said: "Actually, you could have told me all this after the fight. Telling me now—aren't you afraid I'll get angry and turn back?"

Ying Wu smiled: "When you said, 'As long as Ying Wu is willing to speak, I am willing to believe,' even though you already felt I wasn't being entirely truthful, I had to tell you now. If you want to turn back now, it's still not too late."

Zhao Changhe burst into laughter, pulled Longque out of his ring, slung it over his shoulder, and strode forward: "If I leave, and you go mad and die here, who will help me find Yangyang? Let's go. Judging by the properties, if I'm not mistaken, this should be the demon god Eighth Hanchi. I want to see what kind of creature could wound Xuanwu!"