Chapter 138 - 112: The Spirit Who Came From the Netherworld

Chapter 138: Chapter 112: The Spirit Who Came From the Netherworld

’A single-parent family, and now even the single parent is gone.’

Xia Lianxue felt a slight urge to pat her senior sister’s head, just like Lu Changyuan patted hers. But seeing the look on Qiu Yuehan’s face, she decided against it. Instead, she said gently, "It’s alright. We’ll find out eventually."

She turned her head and looked at Lan Xi, her voice cold. "What is the Holy Bead?"

Lan Xi paused for a moment before explaining, "About three thousand years ago, during one of my race’s sacrificial rituals, a Holy Bead suddenly appeared within the Jade Cauldron. Cultivating near the Holy Bead allows my people to achieve twice the results with half the effort. It must be a gift left behind by our ancestors."

And then it was stolen by Feng Xianlong.

’Seriously...’ Xia Lianxue wanted to press a hand to her forehead and wonder just what on earth her master had been doing. When she was cultivating with Feng Xianlong, she had never seen any Holy Bead.

Lan Xi continued without reservation, "Oh, right. About four hundred years ago, a man who looked like a scholar came to our clan. He also wanted to take the Holy Bead, but by that time, it had already been taken by the Palace Master’s master."

Xia Lianxue was a little surprised.

’So, that means Feng Xianlong took the Holy Bead even earlier.’

Qiu Yuehan, however, was recalling scene after scene from her memories.

The Nether Monarch’s Netherworld also appeared exactly three thousand years ago.

The Moon Fairy murmured, "Three thousand years? The Netherworld first appeared around that time, too."

DING!

A crisp sound rang out.

A spectral image of Feng Xianlong suddenly appeared from the Jade Bracelet on Qiu Yuehan’s ankle.

As the spectral image took form, Lan Xi shouted, "That’s her! She’s the one who took the Holy Bead!"

The spectral image didn’t look at Lan Xi. Instead, it turned to Qiu Yuehan at her side, its voice gentle. "My master left something for you."

Qiu Yuehan asked in confusion, "What is it?"

"I don’t know, either. My memories are incomplete. But, Yuehan, I can now tell you about the Palace Master’s origin."

The spectral image’s voice drifted out slowly.

Feng Xianlong was a cultivation prodigy. She cultivated the Life Calculation Dao to attain the level of Yao Guang. The backlash from such a feat is not something an ordinary person could withstand. The reason Feng Xianlong could endure it was because she was not, in a sense, a complete person.

Back in the Netherworld, Lu Changyuan and Su Youwan had heard a prophecy from Mei Zhaozhao.

Five hundred years of wind, five hundred years of sun, five hundred years of rain, and she shall finally return.

This totals fifteen hundred years.

But this prophecy was actually incomplete. The true story was about a man and a woman, each of whom waited for fifteen hundred years.

Two periods of fifteen hundred years add up to exactly three thousand years—the same amount of time since the Netherworld appeared.

The Netherworld is a very special place. Its Spirits devour the flesh and blood of cultivators, and from that decaying matter, new life can be born. So, has any such life ever been created and then left the Netherworld?

Yes, there has. In fact, there were two: a man and a woman, one yin and one yang.

The woman left the Netherworld three thousand years ago, the first time it opened. She took on a human form, embarked on the path of cultivation, and achieved the Dao two thousand years ago, calling herself Feng Xianlong.

After the spectral image slowly finished its explanation, Qiu Yuehan gave a difficult nod. "Then what about my father?"

"My memories are incomplete; I don’t remember. But Yuehan, your mother is definitely my master. You look very similar to her. Perhaps... you don’t have a father?"

Qiu Yuehan took a deep breath.

A thought suddenly occurred to her. ’Perhaps it isn’t that I look like Feng Xianlong, but that Feng Xianlong looks like the Nether Monarch. After all, Feng Xianlong was a new life, reborn in the Netherworld from the Nether Monarch’s own flesh and blood.’

’But whose Thought was Feng Xianlong? Whose Thought was so precious that the Nether Monarch would use his own flesh and blood to bring a new life into being?’

Qiu Yuehan couldn’t remember.

Nor did she want to.

She was afraid of those memories. She felt her life was good enough now. She had her junior sister by her side, and the Old Monster to teach her Spells.

Her circle was small, but the relationships were a tangled mess.

She was her junior sister’s senior sister, her junior sister’s husband’s disciple, and her junior sister’s master’s daughter.

Xia Lianxue noticed her senior sister was trembling. She said softly, "Senior Sister?"

Qiu Yuehan kept her head down, her long, elegant brows hiding the emotion in her eyes. "I’m fine. I was just wondering what Mother left for me here."

The spectral image indicated that it didn’t know, either. It only knew that Feng Xianlong had wanted Qiu Yuehan to make a trip back here.

So they turned to look at Lan Xi.

Lan Xi jumped in alarm. "She didn’t leave anything! That person stole the Holy Bead, then returned many years later with a little girl—this one right here. And we already returned her to you!"

Xia Lianxue’s voice was ice-cold. "Are you sure she didn’t leave anything?"

Lan Xi said hurriedly, "No, no, absolutely not!"

"Senior Sister, do you sense anything?"

Qiu Yuehan looked at Xia Lianxue’s ice-cold, pretty face and shook her head, her ink-black hair swaying gently. "No, I don’t."

What in the world did Feng Xianlong leave behind on Long Mountain?

The ever-timid Lan Xi said, "You two, if you’re not in a hurry, you could stay and observe our Spirit Race’s ritual."

The blue-haired old man smiled warmly, his aged face crinkling so much that his eyes disappeared into the wrinkles.

"After all, it only happens once every ten years. It’s quite a rare occasion." ℯ

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lu Changyuan let out a breath.

「Three more days passed.」

The rain was still falling. Lu Changyuan had grown accustomed to the feeling of being soaking wet. The only dry spot on his body was his back, because it was constantly being baked dry by the heat radiating from the Nether Monarch’s blood.

Stealing a moment of leisure amidst his toil, Lu Changyuan wondered if he should shift the Nether Monarch to his chest and carry him in front. That way, the front of his body would be dry too... ’Might as well,’ he thought.

"Hah."

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs before letting it out, and forced himself to focus again.

The fatigue that came from the mind was cumulative—what people commonly call mental exhaustion. He had reached his limit. The only reason he could still move was pure, unadulterated willpower.