Chapter 897: The Sword Emperor's Hidden Karma

Chapter 897: The Hidden Karma of the Sword Emperor

On the summit of the snow-capped peak, an unnamed desolate grave.

No one came to pay respects; snow covered the tombstone.

Zhao Changhe and Sisi stood hand in hand before the grave, silently gazing for a while. In their hearts, there was indeed no ill will toward the Sword Emperor, for his appearance had been like a shooting star, fleeting and leaving no mark. On the contrary, his sword techniques had been of great help in the early stages, and that method of gathering qi in layered waves had laid the foundation for the unstoppable momentum of Zhao Changhe’s blade.

Rolling through the martial world, one could say he had learned from a hundred schools, and there were always ties of gratitude, while the grudges grew fainter.

That said, the Sword Emperor himself had little presence in Zhao Changhe’s mind, but his lineage had become an old acquaintance on Zhao Changhe’s path of cultivation. The Listening Snow Pavilion, which had been entangled with Zhao Changhe since his debut, had never harmed him, but he had fled from them many times, causing no small trouble, and his early trials were closely tied to them.

Now buried in the snowy peak, it seemed to fulfill the name “Listening Snow.”

This lineage’s cultivation was very peculiar—from Han Wubing to Shi Wuding to Xue Xiao to the Sword Emperor, layer upon layer of control and plunder, like a swarm of insects, nothing like swordsmen. By inference, the Heavenly Dao in this immortal cultivation world must be a demonic cultivator; such a path was definitely not righteous.

Zhao Changhe crouched down, brushed the snow off the tombstone, and reached out to carve two lines on the nameless stone: “Tomb of the Ancient Sword Emperor. Fate of Changhe and Sisi.”

He said aloud, “Since it’s a memento for us, let it be inscribed. They won’t be upset over this; there’s not so much hostility among us now.”

Sisi happily examined the words, her face blooming like a flower: “As you say.”

Zhao Changhe stood up and took Sisi’s hand again. Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly let out a surprised “Eh?”

Sisi also froze. In both their minds, ancient images surfaced, like what they had once seen in the Heavenly Book—a vast land, an old man swinging his sword.

One horizontal stroke, one vertical stroke.

The horizontal split heaven and earth; the vertical cut through the cosmos.

Was this the lingering will of the Sword Emperor at his death, revealing itself after sensing their goodwill?

This vision was more direct than the VR of the Heavenly Book back then. The Heavenly Book had only simulated it, requiring one to learn on their own, but this time it seemed to pierce straight into the sea of consciousness, like a direct transmission of teachings.

Sisi’s insight was unknown, but Zhao Changhe felt this was immensely significant for him.

What had he been doing just a few hours ago? Forging Longque, using Void-Breaking Star Iron, the intent to cut through emptiness. But that was Longque’s attribute; Zhao Changhe himself had no such move, unable to synergize with Longque for the best effect.

He had been seeking a way to break through to the Other Shore, yet felt that Jiuyou’s path didn’t suit him, because deep down he sought the way of destruction, not creation… And now, wasn’t this a gift delivered to his doorstep?

That horizontal and vertical might not be limited to the sword—they could be the blade!

Zhao Changhe’s heart stirred violently. He reached for Longque but grasped empty air. Only then did he remember that he had sent Ling Ruoyu off on an errand, and she was holding Longque…

Zhao Changhe shook his head with a wry smile, then suddenly formed his palm into a blade and slashed into the distance.

An invisible blade qi burst forth, crossing who knew how many thousands of miles, striking at the edge of heaven and earth.

“Swoosh!” A distant mountain peak was severed, yet it still stood on the mountain body, seemingly unchanged.

Slowly, the summit crumbled into dust, scattering into the void.

Sisi stared at Zhao Changhe in shock. He hadn’t even used a blade… Was his strength already this terrifying?

Zhao Changhe shook his head slightly, looking down at the edge of his palm: “It’s only a skill improvement, helpful for finding my final slash… But in terms of realm, I still haven’t found the key… Though I have a faint feeling…”

Sisi scratched her head, but her hand caught on the dazzling bead crown typical of Miaojiang.

Zhao Changhe laughed, cupping her face in his hands and rubbing: “Why are you acting cute again?”

Sisi snorted, “I can’t keep up with your cultivation anymore. Forget it, I don’t care. My Imperial Realm is enough; I’m not needed in battle anyway. I just need to be pretty.”

Unlike Yangyang back then, who didn’t even know what she was imperial over, Sisi was very clear that she was a Wind Rider, though her cultivation progressed step by step, and she was still at a normal Imperial Realm.

“My little maid naturally just needs to be pretty.” Zhao Changhe held her face and kissed her gently, then laughed: “By the way, after the Spirit Clan’s secret realm disappeared, can those exotic beasts still be raised?”

“The environment is different; they can’t be raised anymore… Now the world truly only has ordinary beasts. Also, the spirit-controlling arts we used to practice, drawing beast power into the body, have all been abandoned. But the beast-taming methods are still being cultivated; they’re quite useful. Additionally, the gu worms are gone, but we still practice witchcraft curses and the like.”

Zhao Changhe nodded: “That’s as it should be. It’s a unique feature different from the Central Plains; it would be a pity to abandon it.”

Sisi asked, “So what was that sword intent just now?”

Zhao Changhe’s gaze fell back on the tombstone. He pondered for a moment, then said in a low voice: “The Sword Emperor was not a demon god born from this world itself; he was an extra creation of the Heavenly Dao, with a different origin from everyone else. But in the end, he was an independent being, not a clone of the Heavenly Dao. He had his own thoughts and cultivation. That horizontal and vertical were not the Heavenly Dao’s skills; they were the Sword Emperor’s own. In his final moments, he too had glimpsed the origin.”

Sisi turned her head to look at his profile. For her level of cultivation, she couldn’t really understand the significance of what Zhao Changhe was saying, but it didn’t matter. As long as she was by his side, listening to him speak, her heart was at peace.

Zhao Changhe, of course, wasn’t discussing cultivation with her; he was just sorting out his own thoughts: “If the Heavenly Dao hadn’t interfered, the Sword Emperor’s sword would have ultimately turned to rebellion. That artistic conception of setting sun and lingering clouds—was it because he knew the enemy was Ye Wuming? I think not. He left his ordinary legacy in the decoy tomb, but kept his final intent outside, hoping in his heart to avoid the Heavenly Dao’s knowledge, so that someone in the future could inherit it. Very fortunately, the one who inherited that intent was Hongling. Back then at Kunlun, when I saw Hongling, his sword test must have come from the heart.”

Sisi said, “Are you saying that his death thirty years ago was a deliberate self-removal from the world?”

“Possibly… In that battle back then, no one felt his destructive power had reached that level, so it’s very likely he held back… If so, the inheritance we’ve received now is a nail the Sword Emperor planted against the Heavenly Dao.” Zhao Changhe sighed softly: “Indeed, to have been ranked third among the demon gods, higher than Piaomiao, he was no easy opponent. The Heavenly Dao always tries to control these heroes, but in the end, it will suffer backlash.”

Sisi said, “So if I hadn’t tidied his cenotaph, would this not have happened?”

“This is the fate you earned through your kindness… Though it seems I’ve benefited?”

“You were the one who carved the words…” Sisi was in a good mood and giggled: “Do we still distinguish between yours and mine?”

Zhao Changhe smiled slightly and bowed once more to the tombstone.

Sisi bowed with him, following her husband.

A breeze swept over the tombstone, as if returning the salute.

The karma of the Sword Emperor’s tomb from years past was thus concluded.

“Let’s go.” Zhao Changhe took Sisi’s arm: “Show me today’s Dali.”

…

While they were paying respects to the Sword Emperor and settling karma, the errand-running Ling Ruoyu was wandering around with Longque in her arms. The scenery, so different from the Central Plains, delighted the young girl.

She had been here as the Star River, but not only were her memories hazy, as a sword she had never paid attention to local customs. Only now did she find it fascinating.

Even Longque was the same. Ling Ruoyu carried the large door-plate sword, and a phantom of a twin-tailed loli appeared, blatantly lying on her back to be carried, also curiously looking around: “I’ve been here so many times, but I never noticed it was this fun.”

“Can you get off my back before you talk?”

“You’re carrying me anyway.”

“I’m carrying a sword. Carrying a person is too weird—it’s like carrying a wife. Get back into the sword, and then I’ll talk to you.”

“Ordinary people can’t see me anyway. Who knows you’re carrying a wife… Wait, I’m not your wife; you’re my wife.”

“If you don’t get back into the sword, I’ll take it as you agreeing to be my wife.”

Longque zipped back into the sword. Ling Ruoyu sighed in relief, feeling much more normal.

Though in essence, she was still carrying Longque, like carrying a wife.

Speaking of which, this pair, now more human-like, were still born from a sword and a blade. They weren’t very interested in human clothing or food, but were especially sensitive to combat and cultivation. Before long, they found an altar by the shore of Erhai Lake, surrounded by traces of witchcraft completely different from the Central Plains. The entire witchcraft range was vast, covering about ten miles.

Ling Ruoyu knew at a glance that this must be the place the aunties had mentioned for tracing the Heavenly Dao through witchcraft. The little girl immediately ran over curiously, carrying her wife.

But she was stopped at the entrance: “Witchcraft restricted area. No entry.”

Longque translated for Ling Ruoyu: “No soy sauce sold here.”

Ling Ruoyu gritted her teeth: “Shut up.”

Guard: “Oh ho, you dare tell us to shut up? Where are you from, little girl!”

“…” Ling Ruoyu retreated, circled around, and tried to climb over the wall from an unmanned spot.

But the moment she climbed over, a special alien force descended, and she couldn’t help but age rapidly.

It was a witchcraft curse that caused aging, but what Ling Ruoyu first felt was a swelling pain in her chest, and then it visibly grew a little larger.

If her master or parents were here, they might have kindly taught her that this was called development. But the little girl didn’t know that. Her face turned pale with terror, even more than when she had turned into a rabbit in the Hero Pavilion: “Queque, save me!”

Longque poked her head out, jealousy lacing her words: “Isn’t this a good thing? Who’s helping you like this? Huh, no, that’s not right…”

Ling Ruoyu felt not only her chest had grown but her height had increased a little too; the youthful maiden’s face blurred into that of a charming young matron, more and more like Ye Wuming.

Longque’s eyes widened in terror: “Help!”

Poor little things—a sword and a blade—neither knew how to handle such matters; utterly at a loss, they ended up spilling the soy sauce.

Soon, the sound of figures cutting through the air came from nearby: “Today Chancellor Tang is on patrol here, and there are spies lurking! Seize them!”

Ling Ruoyu shouted, “Chancellor Tang is my aunt!”

“I think you look older than Chancellor Tang—seize her!”

Ling Ruoyu: “…”

Actually, if you saw Chancellor Tang’s nephew, you’d think the same.

No, I don’t want to be that old… Help!

“That appearance… Could you be Ye Wuming? How did you end up here…” Tang Wanzhuang’s voice came from afar, approaching swiftly: “Stand down, all of you. You’re no match for her.”

The guards retreated, eyeing Ling Ruoyu with disbelief—this woman was almost in tears; was she really as strong as Chancellor Tang claimed?

Ling Ruoyu, tears glistening, looked at Tang Wanzhuang descending from the sky; she had never found Chancellor Tang so beautiful: “Auntie, save me.”

Tang Wanzhuang nearly stumbled: “Ruoyu?”

Yes, with that huge Longque on her back, it had to be Ruoyu. Tang Wanzhuang, half laughing and half crying, steadied her: “So it’s a sorcery curse… There are multiple layers of sorcery wards here; I didn’t expect you’d been hit by this one.”

Ling Ruoyu felt wrinkles creeping up on her and almost burst into tears: “Can it be undone?”

“Sorcery is essentially a form of energy manipulation. Before the Imperial Realm, no one could distinguish it; after the Imperial Realm, it becomes much clearer.” Tang Wanzhuang reached out and pressed her hand on Ling Ruoyu’s forehead, infusing cool, water-like true qi.

Ling Ruoyu soon felt herself reverting to youthful beauty and let out a long sigh.

Glancing down inadvertently, the chest she had finally grown was gone… Her heart died.

Longque also sighed—they were back to the same starting point.

Seeing the girl’s expression, Tang Wanzhuang laughed: “What, do you miss how you looked just now?”

“That was bad in other ways, but good here…”

“That’s a good thing—it proves you’re just a bit late in developing…” Tang Wanzhuang said meaningfully: “As you age, this can grow too, unlike some people who stay the same no matter how they grow.”

Some people referred to the current emperor. A loyal minister and Han chancellor couldn’t say it outright.

Ling Ruoyu beamed: “Thank you, Auntie.”

Tang Wanzhuang sighed: “But just now, you really looked like Ye Wuming. You were far away in the capital—how did you suddenly end up here?”

“Master-Grandfather brought me; he and Aunt Sisi went to pay respects to someone…”

“I see… Then why are you here?”

Ling Ruoyu’s heart stirred; she looked around, and seeing no one nearby, lowered her voice: “I actually came specifically to find you, Auntie.”

Tang Wanzhuang paused, then laughed: “What do you want from me?”

“If I said I want to bring my parents together… would you be angry?”

“Why would I be angry? That’s a good thing…” Tang Wanzhuang grew interested: “How do you plan to do it?”

Sure enough, Longque’s judgment was right—Auntie Tang would only tie women to Master-Grandfather’s bed.

“I plan to forge a love letter in Mother’s handwriting to Father… I can mimic Mother’s brush style, but I don’t know how to word the letter…”

Tang Wanzhuang rubbed her forehead in exasperation. She had thought you had some upright method, which could be spoken openly. But this kind of trick—saying it out loud ruins everything… Ye Wuming watches heaven and earth; even newbies fighting get recorded in her observations and rankings. As her daughter, half her attention is probably on spying on you. Aren’t these words a conspiracy in plain sight? No matter what you write, Ye Wuming will turn the letter to ash the next moment.

But on second thought, this could serve as a test—to see how she herself would write.

As long as she wrote something that wouldn’t make Ye Wuming feel embarrassed, if she composed a relatively normal betrothal inquiry, what would Ye Wuming’s attitude be?

Would she directly turn it to ash, or would she hesitate?

It was worth a try.

With that in mind, Tang Wanzhuang took out a graphite pen and notepad she carried for quick notes and handed them to Ling Ruoyu, whispering in her ear: “Write it like this…”

Ye Wuming had been eavesdropping all along, but at that moment, Zhao Changhe formed his palm into a blade and struck far at the junction of heaven and earth.

Ye Wuming stared fixedly at the mountain peak’s desolate form, somewhat moved.

The Sword Emperor still had remnants of sword intent, able to evade her surveillance… This karmic connection was truly strange.

Even more stirring was that Zhao Changhe had actually found here a sliver of a key to glimpse the Other Shore. The Sword Emperor himself hadn’t reached that level, yet using another’s stone, Zhao Changhe honed his blade.

This damn man’s talent was truly formidable—how had she, from Earth, picked such a perfect person…

Wait, what did Tang Wanzhuang teach Ruoyu to write?

When Ye Wuming looked again, Ling Ruoyu had already hidden a note inside the Star River Sword’s space, invisible.

Ye Wuming nearly spat blood. The trick of opening a sword’s inner space to carry clothes—I taught you that, and you use it to hide a love letter? A love letter written for me to a man!

She was about to go over and grab the child’s ear to demand it back, but saw Ling Ruoyu running joyfully toward a figure in red: “Master, Master! Yuer missed you so much…”

Watching Ling Ruoyu throw herself into Yue Hongling’s arms like a fledgling swallow, Ye Wuming bit her lower lip and finally refrained from showing herself.

Forget it… When that brat hands it to Zhao Changhe, she’ll have to take it out. The moment it’s out, it’ll turn to ash—no need to rush.