Chapter 115: Obtaining the Fruit of Time, the Blood Guanyin; The Old Imperial Uncle Laughs Aloud, "My Lady, Come Forth"

Within the blood-stained city, corpses lay scattered everywhere.

A woman in white, her garments drenched in blood until they turned crimson, possessed an ethereal and devastating beauty. Her sleeves dripped with gore, yet her bare feet remained as white as snow, unstained by blood or dust. She walked out of the city step by step, and with every step, a lock of her dark hair withered and fell. Behind her followed countless twisted souls.

Wavering and swaying, the heavens began to sob.
Sinking and drifting, the aggrieved spirits walked in procession.

Her bare feet touched the ground, yet they never truly seemed to land. Her blood-colored robes billowed in the ghostly wind, accompanied by the withering and burning of her dark hair. With each strand that fell, a wandering soul was consumed by fire.

A bone-chilling cold swept over them, so profound that even across the span of time, it made An Le’s soul tremble with terror.

He looked toward the city. Its ancient name was obscured, yet he could feel the lingering obsession of the wronged souls within. Through the burning smoke and the endless sea of corpses, one could see the forest of weapons and piles of armor. A flag inscribed with the characters "Yuan Meng" was suddenly shredded and brought down by a surge of sword intent.

This was a city that had been slaughtered.

An Le’s heart sank. He seemed to understand why this Master Su Zhu, who had not yet shed her thirty-three thousand strands of worldly troubles, had come to be draped in blood-stained robes.

It was killing to end killing; the blood splashed by the slaughter had dyed her clothes red.

The culprits who had butchered the city were slain by the woman, their blood staining the Bodhisattva’s white robes.

The Bodhisattva guided the souls out of the city.
One strand of hair for one departed soul.
There were thirty-three thousand innocent souls in the city, so she shed all thirty-three thousand strands of her hair!

This scene left An Le deeply shaken.

As the woman walked out of the city, she took thirty-three thousand steps, and by the end, her hair was completely gone. The dense, migratory procession of souls behind her was led to their rest, carrying their lingering attachments to the world.

They entered the River of Oblivion and crossed the Bridge of Helplessness.
But in this world, where could there be any true reincarnation or rebirth?

One after another, surges of sword intent rose within the city, like mandalas blooming in hell.

The Bodhisattva stood thirty-three thousand steps outside the city, her blood-dried sleeves fluttering. The woman, with her snow-white skin and peerless beauty, stood upon the desolate road under the dim, twilight clouds, facing the blood-red city.

Two trails of blood-tears flowed from the corners of her eyes.
Her brow split open, and an overwhelming wave of sword intent descended; each thread of intent seemed to carry a departed soul. Finally, the countless strands of sword intent converged within her Niwan Palace, forging a seven-colored Heart Sword.

In that moment, An Le felt as if he saw countless figures smiling upon that Heart Sword.

The vision faded, like a hazy painting dissolving into golden mist.

...

Inside the bumpy carriage.
The sound of rain tapping on the roof remained rhythmic and soft.

An Le slowly opened his eyes. A complex mixture of emotions flickered in his gaze, with lingering traces of bewilderment and shock.

Unlike the sheer boldness he had witnessed during the Old Imperial Uncle’s battle across the Canglang River, this vision of the past left An Le feeling stifled. The many innocent dead he had seen through the vision—the old, the young, the pregnant, the maidens—all walking hand-in-hand in a daze behind Master Su Zhu—the cruelty was palpable.

Every drop of blood gathered into a stream contained the weight of sin. Even though the Bodhisattva had slain the butchers, she could not save those many innocents who had already perished.

An Le remained silent. As the Great Zhao moved southward, it was impossible to evacuate every city. In the abandoned cities, trampled by the Yuan Meng cavalry, the innocent populace faced a boundless nightmare.

[Acquired Timeline Dao Fruit: Blood Guanyin]
[Note 1: Blood Guanyin: When the Guanyin is stained with blood, there is grievance in the world; when the Guanyin has tears, there is suffering in the world; summon the Blood Guanyin, and all sentient beings shall return to the earth.]
[Note 2: Blood Guanyin: When in a place of departed souls, one may borrow the momentum of the spirits to bolster combat power.]

A wisp of golden time-energy had condensed into a Timeline Dao Fruit. Before his eyes, the light blue interface appeared, displaying the descriptions for the [Blood Guanyin] Dao Fruit.

What surprised An Le was that this Dao Fruit had two separate entries. He felt little joy, observing the effects of the fruit calmly. According to his analysis, the first was an active trigger, while the second was a passive buff. Regardless, An Le was not particularly eager to use this Dao Fruit.

With a thought, his long-absent interface fully manifested.

[Name: An Le]
[Time-Energy: 0 Wisps]
[Timeline Dao Fruits: Eternal Prodigy, Born Swordsman, Crushing Sword, Fearless Heart, Bold Spirit, Five-Kill Melody, Blood Guanyin]
[Mastered Techniques: "Sword Waterfall Map," "Breath-Guiding Meditation"]
[Mastered Skills: "Ancient Demon Five-Animal Sutra," "Zhao Ancestor Long Fist"]

The interface had not changed much. The time-energy absorbed before and after the Palace Examination had all been added to the [Born Swordsman] entry. He was now twenty-two wisps short of completion; if he encountered enough cultivators, he could easily gather them. After all, he could now absorb twenty-five wisps of time-energy per day.

Additionally, his original Crushing Sword strength had been upgraded to [Crushing Sword] with ten wisps of time-energy, making it more powerful and explosive. As for other changes, there were none, as most Dao Fruits did not require time-energy to be augmented.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against the carriage wall, and the interface vanished. An Le focused his mind.

He stilled his breath and cast aside the emotional influence brought by the golden time-energy. Once his mood stabilized, he grasped the Qingshan sword, gently stroking it. He sank his consciousness into the blade, meditating on the Future Sword Intent and the mountain.

However, without the help of the Imperial Academy’s top-tier ink painting, "Mountain and River Map," visualizing the Future Sword Intent and the mountain became more difficult. He struggled to break through the surface fog to observe the ancient scriptures revealed within.

The ancient scripture he was meditating upon was not yet complete. He had to ponder it, meditate on it slowly, and break through its mysteries bit by bit to fill in the missing pieces. This scripture could forge both the body and the spirit—it was highly practical. Most importantly, its effects were potent, and it could even be integrated with the "Sword Waterfall Map" and the "Ancient Demon Five-Animal Sutra."

The carriage grew quieter. An Le’s breathing synchronized with his meditation. His focus wove through the air, creating a sense of pressure within the carriage.

The Old Imperial Uncle, Zhao Huangting, slowly opened his eyes and glanced at An Le. Then, his gaze fell upon Lin Qingyin. The girl’s spiritual cultivation was only at the Mortal-Transcending stage, so the pressure from An Le’s Fourth-Realm primordial spirit affected her significantly.

The Old Imperial Uncle intended to shield her from the pressure, but Lin Qingyin shook her head stubbornly, continuing to sketch while enduring An Le’s aura. She was using this pressure to temper her spirit!

A look of admiration appeared on Zhao Huangting’s face, and he slowly closed his eyes again. The carriage sped onward. Outside, wind and rain lashed at them, but inside, the atmosphere was peaceful and serene: some cultivated, some painted, and some slept.

...

What had happened in Lin’an Prefecture had already swept through the Great Zhao Dynasty like a hurricane. However, the Emperor of the Zhao family, concerned with saving face, dismissed it with a fabricated explanation for the world.

He claimed that An Le had won the top honors in both civil and military examinations, but because of his involvement in the incident at the Heavenly Mystery Palace, his titles were stripped, he was exiled from Lin’an, and forbidden from ever holding office.

Once the news broke, Lin’an was in an uproar. Scholars and literati were shocked that the renowned Master An, famous for his "Ink Bamboo" and "Galloping Horse," had fallen so low. Of course, those who knew the secrets remained silent, while the ignorant mostly gloated.

But for a dream-like, bustling place like Lin’an, the rise and fall of names was common. Master An was just one of many talents swept away by the tides. If one master fell, others would rise to the crest.

There was, however, one other piece of news that shocked the scholarly world: Wang Banshan, the Third Master of the Imperial Academy, had voluntarily resigned his position. People saw the elderly scholar, dressed in simple grey robes, walking out of Lin’an in cloth shoes, without even a carriage.

Besides that, everything in Lin’an remained as usual.

No matter how much the news was covered up, traces still leaked out. Rumors spread of the Zhao Emperor seeking the Heart Sword of Lin Qingyin’s sister to extend his life by five hundred years, of the new Scholar-in-Chief drawing his sword against the Emperor, of the Old Imperial Uncle igniting the Fire of Nirvana and scaring the Holy Monk of Lianhua Temple into fleeing overnight with the Buddha statue...

Each anecdote, true or false, flowed out of Lin’an and into the Jianghu.

On the West Lake, where the water shimmered, flower boats still swayed and music played night after night. Lin’an Prefecture remained the most prosperous, dream-like place in the Great Zhao Dynasty after the southward migration.

...

From Lin’an to Shu, many towns were passed along the way. Although the path to Shu was notoriously difficult, generations of people had worn a wide road through the mountains.

The Sword Pool Palace of Shu, a famous sect in the Western Shu region, stood as a dominant power that lesser factions could not compare to.

The carriage, pulled by a horse that allegedly possessed the bloodline of a spirit beast, moved tirelessly. After passing through Jiangling Prefecture and traveling a bit further, they would enter Shu.

They decided to rest in Jiangling. Lin Zhuifeng took off his bamboo hat, excited after the long journey, and drove the carriage into the city. As the vehicle entered, the ancient city suddenly grew lively. Many people, having heard that the Old Imperial Uncle who had ignited the Fire of Nirvana was arriving, gathered around.

The Jiangju Restaurant, a world-renowned eatery in Jiangling, was famous for its chef’s ability to prepare exotic game from the surrounding gorges, making it a favorite for scholars and Jianghu travelers alike.

The carriage stopped outside the restaurant. An Le, Lin Qingyin, and the Old Imperial Uncle disembarked, the sunlight warming their faces.

"Ah, the Jiangju Restaurant of Jiangling. A fine place. Their Bamboo Leaf Green wine is the best. Little An, you and I must have a drink." The Old Imperial Uncle grinned.

"Once we pass Jiangling, we enter Shu, not far from Sword Pool Palace. Relax, have a good meal, and rest. When we reach the palace, we’ll aim to successfully sharpen the Qingshan sword in one go."

The Old Uncle laughed, leaning on Lin Qingyin as they entered. An Le, dressed in white with his swords at his waist, scanned the surroundings. The streets were bustling, but as soon as he stepped off the carriage, he felt several primordial spirit auras locking onto them.

Clearly, they had been targeted the moment they entered.

"Little An, don't worry. The only one in Jiangling who would dare to target us so openly is the Prince of Jiangling. He’s a useless brat, no better than the ones in the Heavenly Mystery Palace. Not worth the trouble. Come, let’s go drink."

The old man’s voice drifted from inside. An Le felt more relaxed. He stretched his body, his blood and energy churning like thunder. He had been meditating for days, and his spirit had grown, but his physical cultivation had stalled.

Just as he was about to step into the restaurant, his eyes narrowed. The ancient jade source of the spirit beast, gifted by the millennia-old demon suppressed under West Lake, began to tremble.

Did this mean the offspring of that great demon was here in Jiangling? An Le shook off the thought; he had no time to investigate.

He entered the restaurant. The old man clearly had a reputation here, as a plump woman hurried over and led them to the third floor. She was a cultivator herself, and An Le sensed a few wisps of time-energy from her. He took the opportunity to absorb them.

"Meiniang, bring three pots of Bamboo Leaf Green for the old man first," the old man said, sitting by the window.

The view of the large lake behind the restaurant was tranquil and pleasant. After a while, the wine arrived. An Le poured a cup and took a sip. It had a refreshing, crisp taste, reminiscent of fresh bamboo after the rain.

"This wine... is good."

The old man laughed. "Indeed. Every time I head to Shu, I stop here to drink, then go boating on the lake. Very satisfying."

Li You’an, in his scholar’s robes, appeared outside the window, floating in the air. The old man tossed the last pot of wine to him.

"Good. Protect us as far as Jiangling; I have others to take over from here. You, get back to the Canglang River and don't let the Xiliang father and son cause trouble," the old man said.

"I just received news. The Yuan Meng Emperor is pressing his army against the Xiliang border. Xiliang won't be able to hold them off and will try to cross the river. I must go," Li You’an said seriously.

"The Yuan Meng Emperor intends to unify the world. Go. I’ll be fine in Jiangling," the old man replied.

Li You’an looked at An Le with expectation, then transformed into a streak of sword light. A massive pressure erupted, forcing the prying auras to recoil in pain.

...

In the Jiangling Prince’s Mansion, the Prince of Jiangling, Zhao Xi, sat with the Second Prince, Zhao Pei, and an old Taoist priest.

"The Second Prince wants to capture An Le to please the Emperor," the Prince of Jiangling mused.

The old Taoist priest stood up. "I, Li Qingchuan of the Heavenly Master’s Mansion, would like to see this legend for myself."

He stepped into the air, his peach-wood sword whistling as it shot toward the Jiangju Restaurant. "Li Qingchuan of the Heavenly Master’s Mansion asks the Old Imperial Uncle... to receive my sword."

Purple lightning coiled around the peach-wood sword as it tore through the air, threatening to obliterate the entire restaurant.

At the restaurant, the Old Imperial Uncle stood by the window, looking at the incoming strike with a sneer.

"A mere fledgling master wants me to receive his sword? Who do you think you are?"

"My lady, come!" The old man laughed.

He smashed his wine pot on the floor. Instantly, countless swords surged into the sky from outside the city, clashing and ringing, forming a river of steel.

A valiant female Sword God stood at the head of the formation, glaring angrily.

"What kind of stray dog dares to point a sword at my husband?!"