Chapter 114: Five Realms Beyond the Five Realms, Watching the Bodhisattva’s Hair Fall Amidst the Flow of Time

Ten thousand voices roared in unison, their sound shattering the curtain of rain. Each cold droplet was pulverized into a fine mist, obscuring the landscape along the mountain path.

The horses neighed in terror. The Generals of the Left and Right Jinwu Guards, seated atop their steeds, saw their expressions shift drastically. They had never expected such a turn of events. Were the Supreme Pillar of State, the General who Guards the State, and the General who Assists the State not dispatched to cooperate with them in capturing the young man who had acted so audaciously on the White Jade Plaza—the youth who dared to raise his sword and sever the palm of the Great Zhao Emperor?

A young man who had fallen from the triumphant heights of a top scholar to a rebel.

A carriage approached, swaying as it moved. It was the Lin family’s carriage. Atop its roof sat an old man in plain robes, holding a blade. The sword energy radiated from the golden blade, and for a moment, the wind and rain across the mountains seemed to freeze, ceasing their descent upon the world.

Admiration flickered across the face of the Supreme Pillar of State, Liu Guanshi. As an official who had lived through the Southern Migration of Great Zhao, he knew all too well the price paid by the Lin family and the old Imperial Uncle standing before him. Five centuries of time had passed, bringing with it the cooling of passionate blood, yet those glorious deeds would not fade. They were like a heavy history book, recording a past that could still make one’s blood boil. Even though many had been hollowed out by the prosperity of Lin'an, their spirits worn down, and their former grandeur and fervor forgotten, there would always be those who kept the long-lost, smoldering heat contained within their blood.

Liu Guanshi was such a man.

In the carriage, as the evening rain slanted down, the old Imperial Uncle, Zhao Huangting, held his blade upright. He watched as Liu Guanshi, the Supreme Pillar of State, planted his own sword into the ground, raised a fist, and struck his chest, sending water splashing into the air. A smile touched the corners of Zhao Huangting’s lips.

He remembered when Liu Guanshi was just a young official with wisps of fuzz on his lips aboard a ship during the migration. In the blink of an eye, he had become a decorated Supreme Pillar of State commanding an entire region. It was a pity that the Great Zhao of today could no longer tolerate even a shred of spirit. For a person like Liu Guanshi, his blood could only be chilled, his brilliance buried.

The ten thousand armored soldiers behind him—some did not recognize the long-dormant Zhao Huangting, but they knew the Lin family’s carriage. How could a soldier not have heard of the unwavering loyalty of the Lin household? With the Supreme Pillar of State as their example, a residual warmth of blood began to stir in these soldiers.

The massive army shifted, yielding a stern, empty road washed clean by the torrential rain. The swaying Lin family carriage traveled down this path, disappearing slowly into the rain-streaked horizon under the silent salute of ten thousand armored men beating their chests. They were bidding farewell to a legend, and witnessing the withering of Great Zhao’s final flicker of spirit.

...

Lin'an Prefecture.
Inside the Imperial City, shrouded in rain.
Within the Imperial Study.

A cup filled with wine was smashed violently against the floor, shattering into pieces. The rich, spirit-infused wine, "Drunken Flowing Clouds," spilled across the ground, rising in a misty haze.

"I ordered him to capture the man, not to let him go!"

Upon hearing the situation outside the Sixth Mountain, the Zhao Emperor’s rage was like thick ink dropped into a clear pool, instantly spreading and staining everything. The eunuch Tong stood silently in a corner of the study, saying nothing; this was a time when it was best to remain quiet.

After a long time, the Zhao Emperor calmed down, sat back in his chair, pondered for a while, and picked up his brush to write on a sheet of white paper.

...

The carriage jolted incessantly, but within the cabin, An Le’s heart was surging. Gazing at the deafening roar, An Le, who had prepared for a great battle, found that things were not turning for the worse. With the old Imperial Uncle sitting atop the carriage holding a blade that could "Settle the Waves," ten thousand men had cast aside their weapons and stepped aside to grant them a smooth path.

An Le’s heart was filled with complex emotions. It was not that the armies of Great Zhao lacked spirit; they simply lacked the catalyst to ignite it. The powerful figures huddled in Lin'an had long ago eroded that catalyst, leaving the soldiers’ blood to return to silence. Great Zhao’s ability to rely on the Canglang River to hold back the invasions of the Yuan-Mongol Empire for five hundred years did not depend on natural barriers, nor on the royal family, but on the soldiers on the battlefield who carried fire in their hearts.

The old Imperial Uncle returned to the cabin, handed the "Settle the Waves" blade to An Le with a sense of listlessness, and leaned back against the wall, lost in thought. An Le sheathed the blade, saying nothing. The cabin was quiet, save for the faint sound of rain drumming on the carriage roof.

Lin Qingyin was a naturally quiet girl; facing An Le, who was now her teacher, she was obedient and composed. She felt a heartfelt respect for the old Imperial Uncle and thus remained silent. An Le did not speak either, merely stroking the hilt of the blade, as if he could still feel the lingering ripples of the sword energy surging within.

Finally, the ten thousand soldiers were no longer in sight. Only the horses pulled the carriage, racing through the storm, the wheels rolling over puddles and splashing water into arcs.

They had traveled quite a distance. Lin Zhuifeng drove with a certain dominance, the reins lashing out, perhaps venting the stifling frustration he had felt in Lin'an. Suddenly, Lin Zhuifeng pulled on the reins, and the horses reared up, spraying mud and water.

An Le, sitting in the cabin, slowly opened his eyes.

"An old friend has come to see us off; you should go and meet him."
"There may not be another chance to meet again."
The old Imperial Uncle sighed in the cabin and spoke to An Le.

An Le nodded, rose, and lifted the curtain. Dressed in white, with the "Green Mountain" and "Ink Pool" at his waist, and the "Settle the Waves" hidden in its peach-wood scabbard, he stepped out.

Off to the side of the mountain road stood a long pavilion. An ancient path, a long pavilion—the atmosphere of a parting. A figure, appearing as if radiating a hazy glow, like an immortal descended from the heavens, stood in the pavilion, gazing blankly at the rain. The man was incredibly handsome, ethereal, wearing wide-sleeved robes and carrying two wine jars.

As An Le stepped into the pavilion, Zhao Jiu withdrew his gaze.

"Fortunately, I hurried. Any slower, and I would have missed you. This pavilion is the furthest I can go," Zhao Jiu said with a smile.

He then handed a wine jar to An Le; inside was aged yellow rice wine from Yanchunli. The two stood under the idle pavilion, clinked their jars, and began to drink. Zhao Jiu did not say much, as if this trip was merely to share a drink with An Le. A jar of turbid wine could celebrate a reunion, or it could mourn a departure.

Zhao Jiu simply waved his hand, his robes fluttering, and walked off into the endless curtain of rain, his movements distorting the downpour like an immortal drifting away.

Inside the carriage, Zhao Huangting watched the graceful Zhao Xianyou and couldn't help but sigh. To be a bird in a cage was the greatest tragedy. The royal family was heartless, but he never expected that the disgraceful emperor in the Tianxuan Palace could be heartless to this extent. At this thought, the old Imperial Uncle’s eyes grew even sadder, as if he had gained some insight into the "tiny spark" Li You'an had spoken of.

If there were a fire that could burn everything to ash, and then allow for a fresh start... that would not be so bad.

The carriage continued on. This time, there were no further obstructions. It swayed and bumped through the wind and rain, disappearing along the official road.

Inside the carriage, Zhao Huangting smacked his lips, drinking the aged yellow wine from Yanchunli that Zhao Xianyou had brought. As the cold liquid slid down his throat, it brought the old man immense enjoyment and intoxication.

"Ordinary wine, better than the 'Drunken Flowing Clouds' of the imperial palace," Zhao Huangting laughed with a sense of wonder. An Le had not taken the jar back, so the wine was gifted to the old Imperial Uncle. Zhao Huangting did not stand on ceremony; he knew there would be few opportunities to drink on this journey, so every sip was precious.

"Senior, are we heading to Shu?" Lin Qingyin asked, her voice gentle and elegant, as if she knew something.

Zhao Huangting took a precious sip of wine: "Did the fourth master of the Lin family tell you? Have you heard of the Sword Pool Palace in Shu? That is where we are heading."

Lin Qingyin smiled lightly: "Since ancient times, apart from the dynasties, the Central Plains have been home to many Jianghu sects. These sects carry the legacy of thousands of years, their roots running deep. Even the current Yuan-Mongol Emperor, who occupies the vast territory north of the Canglang River, defaults to their existence."

"The Sword Pool Palace in Shu, the three Buddhist temples, the Daoist True Martial and Celestial Master sects, the Kunpeng Mountain of the demon race, the Star-Plucking Sect controlled by the peerless National Preceptor of the Dali Kingdom, and the Hell Mansion, which has been established as the state religion by the Western Liang Kingdom..."

"These are the Jianghu forces that have stood firm and passed down through the long ages on the land of the Central Plains. No matter how dynasties change or how the winds blow and rains beat, they remain standing."

Lin Qingyin was, after all, a direct descendant of the Lin family; her knowledge was vast, far beyond that of An Le, who had started his cultivation halfway through life. An Le, who was just about to observe the wisp of "Gold-Flowing Years" energy he had absorbed from the Master of the Plain Beads, opened his eyes and leaned in, listening curiously.

Zhao Huangting narrowed his eyes, clearly appreciative: "Jianghu, Jianghu... once you leave the imperial court, everything is Jianghu... In fact, the court can also be called Jianghu; it just takes a more elegant name."

"Wherever there are people, there is Jianghu."

"The Sword Pool Palace in Shu has a long heritage. Although it has been interrupted a few times, it has stumbled along to the present day. It is naturally extraordinary and is the most famous place for sword forging in the world today."

"The 'Green Mountain' needs to be sharpened; a visit to the Sword Pool Palace is mandatory."

Zhao Huangting said, then looked at An Le, his expression solemn: "The Sword Pool Palace has a holy land called Sword Pool Lake. For the sword cultivators of the world, it is a supreme treasure land. This is one of the reasons I am taking you there."

"The foundation of a cultivator is of the utmost importance. I have high expectations for you, and I hope that one day, you will be able to break through the tenth realm that blocks the path of countless cultivators, and achieve true great freedom and great style in this world."

Zhao Huangting’s words were filled with emotion. He saw his own young self in An Le, and it was precisely because of this that he wanted to cultivate An Le and help him build a solid foundation. An Le was moved, never expecting the old Imperial Uncle to have such high expectations of him.

"Since you have gained the favor of 'Green Mountain,' I must naturally raise my expectations for you."

Zhao Huangting drank some wine and smiled: "If 'Green Mountain' can be sharpened, the significance is absolute; it is the key to breaking the tenth realm. In my life, I have been to the Sword Pool Palace four times, wanting to sharpen 'Green Mountain,' but all in vain. I know it must be that I lack the destiny for it, but now, for the fifth time, I am taking you into Shu."

"In this world, only the Sword Pool Palace can sharpen 'Green Mountain.'"

"If it cannot be sharpened this time, then in the future, you will have to enter Shu on your own."

Zhao Huangting’s words left An Le silent.

"Kid An, you are currently at the double fourth realm, and you will soon reach the fifth realm and charge toward the sixth. Today, I will tell you about the Refining of Spirit and Forging of Body after the sixth realm."

Outside the carriage, rain beat against the roof, the mist swirling. Inside, Zhao Huangting found a lazy posture and spoke softly.

An Le’s expression sharpened, and he sat upright. Lin Qingyin also straightened up, her face solemn. Even Lin Zhuifeng, who was driving the carriage on the shafts, pricked up his ears.

"The five realms after the fifth realm—that is the overall structure of cultivation in this world."

"The five realms of Refining Spirit are: Sitting in Oblivion, followed by... Cloud-Rising, Carefree, Spirit-Wandering, and Immortal Platform."

"The tenth realm of Refining Spirit is called Nirvana—a realm all cultivators in the world dream of but cannot attain."

After Zhao Huangting finished, he took a sip of wine.

"The five realms of Body Forging after Innate are: Observing the Qi Sea, Moving the Blood Mountain, Divine Arrival, and Extreme Peak."

"The tenth realm of Body Forging is the Land Immortal."

"The ten realms of Refining Spirit and Body Forging complement each other. Why did that emperor who unified the four seas want to coordinate cultivation so that talented practitioners would choose to cultivate both simultaneously?"

"That is because after the sixth realm, the complementary effect is greatly amplified. If you reach the 'Cloud-Rising' stage in Refining Spirit, you can greatly increase the possibility of entering the sixth realm in Body Forging."

"Of course, it does not exclude those with monstrous talent who can cultivate either Refining Spirit or Body Forging to the tenth realm alone. Such figures are rare even in thousands of years. One thing is certain: with the two complementing each other, steadily reaching the double ninth realm, and with sufficient accumulation, breaking through to the tenth realm will ultimately be easier."

Zhao Huangting was so engrossed in his explanation that he couldn't help but take another drink, only to realize there wasn't much left in the jar, which left him feeling quite annoyed.

This was the first time An Le had learned about the subsequent realms. Previously, Lady Hua had lit a lamp for his cultivation path, telling him about the first five realms. Now, the old Imperial Uncle, Zhao Huangting, had added to the light, letting him understand the mysteries of the later five realms.

"That sudden outburst of yours on the White Jade Plaza was somewhat similar to the eighth realm of Body Forging, 'Divine Arrival.' However, your outburst was higher, stronger, and more invincible. The experience of that spirit will be helpful for your future Body Forging cultivation."

Zhao Huangting looked at An Le and said. The old man knew that An Le must have his own secrets; at the very least, this "Divine Arrival"-like method could not have come from "Green Mountain." Having held the Green Mountain sword for five hundred years, he could certainly deduce a thing or two. But this was not important; the more secrets An Le had, the happier the old man was.

The carriage jolted along. Inside, the charcoal stove heated water, warming the surrounding area. The old man drank wine while leisurely explaining the mysteries of the realms beyond the fifth, as well as problems to watch out for. The young people in the carriage listened intently.

The carriage plowed through the wind and rain.

...

Above the sea of clouds, the starlight was brilliant. Li You'an walked with his hands behind his back, his scholar’s robes fluttering, carrying a wisp of sword energy. It seemed he was also listening to the elder's guidance and instruction to the youth in the carriage, and a smile couldn't help but appear at the corners of his lips.

However, the smile quickly faded. He raised his hand and tapped the space in front of him. Starlight gathered into the "Thousand Turns" sword. A moment later, the sword light flashed, slashing toward the hidden void in the distance.

There were muffled groans from the void. Several powerful figures hidden within had not expected Li You'an to be so overbearing; they had merely been spying, only to be struck by his sword energy. Thus, these spying experts retreated entirely.

Li You'an sat in the void, his expression returning to indifference, but his heart was incredibly heavy. That Zhao Emperor... he truly showed no mercy. Although he had told Zhao Huangting that there was no need to worry about the Western Liang Kingdom, the truth was, the longer Li You'an delayed, the more unpredictable the strange movements of that demonic father-son pair in the Western Liang Kingdom would become.

"However, once escorted to Shu, I won't have to worry about the path ahead. The old Imperial Uncle has entered Shu and broken into the Sword Pool Lake four times without being killed; he certainly has his own confidence."

Li You'an let out a breath, and as if thinking of something, he smiled knowingly.

...

Beneath the dusk clouds.
The carriage sped on.
An Le sat cross-legged; the cabin was quiet. The old Imperial Uncle had already fallen asleep. After Lin Qingyin covered him with a thin wool blanket, she lit a candle in the cabin and picked up her drawing board and charcoal pencil to practice sketching. She did not disturb An Le; seeing him close his eyes and feeling the surge of blood and spirit energy, she knew he was cultivating.

However, An Le was not truly cultivating at this moment. His mind was focused. A wisp of golden "Years" energy suddenly rose before his eyes. It was a precious wisp of "Gold-Flowing Years" energy he had absorbed from the peerless female Bodhisattva who seemed to have walked out of a painting.

Now, deep in the night, there was only the sound of the carriage moving forward. An Le no longer hesitated, observing the spirit and charm from the years.

The energy of the years bloomed with a golden hue, like a burning stick of incense, fluttering and twisting the scene before his eyes.

...

Heaven and earth were dim and dark, birds and crows wailed.
The city flowed with blood.
An Le’s gaze tightened as he saw a stunning woman, her white clothes stained into a blood-red gown, walking barefoot out of the bleeding city, out of the endless corpses.
Behind the blood-stained clothes, a hundred ghosts walked the night.
With every step, a strand of hair withered. Three thousand and three hundred steps.
All worries were scattered with the hair.

(Ps: A bit of writer's block, writing slowly. It's a new month, requesting monthly tickets and recommendation tickets for support!)