Chapter 127: Heavenly Tribulation

(I desperately need a monthly ticket to stop the bleeding!)

A mere trifle...

Chen Jianchen said these words with such lightness that to him, inviting a heart-demon into his body—a matter of grave significance—was as trivial as eating or drinking, and seemingly even quite delicious.

Master Huangfu and Jiaona exchanged a glance, both filled with astonishment. They knew that for cultivators, the heart-demon is the most troublesome and difficult obstacle to overcome. The higher one's cultivation, the more formidable the heart-demon; it is a proportional rule. In other words, the heart-demon that would emerge during Jiaona’s tribulation would be incredibly powerful. If it were to enter the soul and spirit of an ordinary person, that person’s mind would likely collapse instantly, leading to the loss of their soul, turning them into a lunatic, an idiot, a fool... or even causing direct death!

Heart-demons are formless and intangible; unlike external malevolent spirits, they arise from the practitioner’s own heart. This is the primary reason why they are so difficult to eradicate completely—as long as the heart remains, the heart-demon will persist.

When a heart-demon enters the body, it is not merely an external invasion. Once it enters, it can instantly trigger various evil thoughts and twisted impulses buried deep within the subject's mind, creating a resonance that fuses into a single entity, transforming in the blink of an eye into the host's own heart-demon.

Chen Jianchen possessed a righteous spirit and firm resolve, which suggested that the heart-demon suppressed deep within his own heart was also an extremely powerful entity. If these two forces were to combine, the resulting state was truly unimaginable.

"Sir, you..."

Jiaona’s words were immediately cut off by Chen Jianchen: "What I have decided, I will not change."

Master Huangfu looked intently at the young man before him, recalling his past actions. Nothing matched his somewhat youthful age, but upon considering his ability to condense the legendary righteous spirit, everything else suddenly seemed reasonable and acceptable. He bowed deeply: "Liuxian..."

Chen Jianchen did not need to interrupt; the Master himself did not know what else to say.

Great kindness cannot be repaid with mere words, nor could any material gift measure up to it. Chen Jianchen was neither kin nor kind to them, and was of a different species altogether; to be treated with such equality and peace was already rare, let alone being saved repeatedly.

Thus, Master Huangfu’s words ultimately turned into a deep, silent bow.

Chen Jianchen smiled and said, "Since Miss Huangfu is to undergo the tribulation, let us make preparations as soon as possible."

Years ago, Master Huangfu had used secret techniques, sparing no effort to conceal his daughter's aura in hopes of buying time and making thorough preparations to increase the success rate of her tribulation. Today, even though it had been delayed by nearly five years, the fact that the heavenly tribulation arrived this very night was unexpected. Many things were not ready, especially the mental preparation. Hearing Chen Jianchen’s words, the father and daughter immediately took action.

First, to avoid causing a public spectacle, Master Huangfu cast a spell to send the dozen or so servants in the manor into a deep sleep, from which they would not wake until morning. Then, he took a sword from his study and handed it to Chen Jianchen.

The sword was about three feet long, three fingers wide, and three inches thick, belonging to the heavy sword category. The blade featured precise patterns, and a straight red line ran down the center of the spine—slender yet clearly visible, like a blood groove, slightly recessed.

The hilt was pitch-black, made of an unknown material, and inscribed with the characters "Devil-Drawing." This was evidently the sword's name: the Devil-Drawing Sword.

This sword was clearly a magical artifact.

Chen Jianchen held it in his hand, feeling it quite heavy, likely weighing no less than twenty or thirty catties.

The place for Jiaona’s formal tribulation was arranged in the courtyard where Chen Jianchen resided, in a clearing amidst the bamboo grove. A millstone-sized rock was brought over for her to sit upon. Chen Jianchen stood upright behind her, gripping the Devil-Drawing Sword.

Snow continued to fall, and thunder rumbled intermittently.

Master Huangfu had already explained all the precautions to his daughter and Chen Jianchen. The rest was up to the two of them; he would take charge of guarding the area to ensure no outsiders intruded and disrupted Jiaona’s tribulation process.

Jiaona suddenly turned, looking at Chen Jianchen with glistening eyes. After a long moment, she whispered, "Sir, be careful."

Chen Jianchen returned a gentle smile: "After your Yin-spirit leaves your body, you must be even more careful."

Jiaona nodded heavily, said "Mmm," and sat with dignified composure. Closing her eyes, she began to prepare for her Yin-spirit to exit her body.

Crack!

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the brows of Chen Jianchen and Jiaona. This was Chen Jianchen’s first time doing such a thing, and he could not help but feel a bit anxious. However, as he stood with his sword, he remained as steady as a rock, possessing the demeanor of someone who "would not change his expression even if Mount Tai collapsed before him."

In the southeast corner, Master Huangfu watched closely with a face full of worry, ready to charge forward without regard for his own life should anything go wrong.

The wind grew stronger unnoticed, and the snow fell more heavily. High above, dense, dark clouds swirled and stacked upon each other, pressing down like a giant black cauldron intended to cap the vast Hu Manor. In the center of this "cauldron," the wind and clouds shifted to form a bottomless vortex, dizzying to behold.

Hiss!

Lightning snakes danced within the vortex. Suddenly, one bolt struck a cluster of bamboo in the courtyard, instantly reducing the green stalks to charcoal and releasing a scorched, acrid stench.

Seeing this, Scholar Chen couldn't help but feel his heart thumping. Such is the might of heaven and earth—the tyranny of nature—that anyone facing it should feel a sense of awe.

But awe does not equal fear.

Chen Jianchen took a long breath, thinking that by now, Jiaona’s soul and spirit must have left her body to face the thunder from above.

Under normal circumstances, when an ordinary Yin-spirit first coalesces, it cannot even bear to hear the thunder, let alone accept its baptism. The moment the thunder roared, it would likely be shattered into oblivion. Therefore, those at the Yin-spirit stage dare not let their spirits leave their bodies during thunderstorms; it is tantamount to suicide. Only by elevating one's cultivation, strengthening the Yin-spirit, forming a Golden Core, and stabilizing the soul can one dare to roam by day, manipulate objects, and even endure the heavenly tribulation to absorb the Yang energy of the lightning and comprehend the mysteries of Yin and Yang.

To face the power of the lightning head-on with an Yin-spirit body required immense courage and grit. Cultivation, while seeking freedom, requires even more of that resolute spirit to hack through thorns and brambles.

The road is long and rugged, and I shall seek the truth throughout.

Whoosh!

Another flash of electricity streaked before his eyes.

The light was so dazzling that he could not look directly at it; instinctively, Chen Jianchen closed his eyes.

Zap!

In an instant, he felt a current flow from the tip of the Devil-Drawing Sword into his palm, leaving a numb, tingling sensation. Before he could react, the scene before him underwent a drastic, mystical transformation. The courtyard with its bamboo grove was gone.

Black clouds converged, dark as ink. Looking out, he saw dense, countless tombs scattered about like Mongol tents.

Chen Jianchen was surrounded by this vast expanse of graves, with no exit to be found in any direction. Around him came the wailing of ghosts and the howling of wolves, leaving the heart in turmoil, lost and uncertain of where to go.

This environment seemed familiar...

With a thunderous crash, the earth shook. A sudden, violent rainstorm descended, and the old trees growing among the graves were uprooted, crashing to the ground.

Ghostly wails rose up. With a series of sharp cracks, every tomb began to emit a teeth-grinding sound. Then, the soil split open, and countless spurts of blood surged forth, flowing into rivulets—a red so gruesome and maddening. Following the gushing blood, skeletal claws began to climb out from the earth.

This was no dream; this was the realm of the soul and spirit. Could it be that Jiaona’s heart-demon consisted of these thousands of tombs, the endless blood, and the ghastly white skeletons?

Chen Jianchen stood in the wind and rain, a surge of heroism rising in his heart. He shouted loudly: "Sword, come!"

In his hand appeared a three-foot blade, sharp as water and shimmering with brilliance—it was an enlarged version of his Haoran Yangwu Sword.

Grasping the long sword, he stepped forward boldly and began to sing: "Seeking the path, searching ahead, the path of freedom in the human world; how many mountains and rivers have I crossed, countless..."

As he sang and advanced, the terrifying skeletons climbed out of the graves, baring their fangs and claws as they surrounded him.

Chen Jianchen felt no fear, continuing his song: "...With fierce winds and violent thunder, heaven and earth wail; how could the old landscapes of the world become a surging sea of blood? The road home has become a road of no return. Dare I ask the world, why is there nothing but lawlessness..."

The hideous skeletons were now upon him.

Swish, swish, swish!

Chen Jianchen brandished his sword. The blade light swirled; there was no need for form or technique, just the rhythmic swing of his arm. Under the sword light, not a single one of the thousands of skeletons could approach him. Upon the slightest contact, they were shredded into pieces, turning into piles of white bones that scattered on the ground.

The sword light was like lightning, his singing like thunder. Chen Jianchen seemed tireless. Behind him, a path paved with white bones became visible, white as snow—strangely reminiscent of the white ribbon Nie Xiaoqian threw to guide Ning Caichen out of Lanruo Temple.

But why would I think of Xiaoqian?

The thought flashed through his mind, but Chen Jianchen’s resolve grew firmer and his steps steadier. He continued to hack his way along his chosen path, and any skeleton that dared to block his way was reduced to bone fragments under his blade.

Boom!

Another thunderclap shook the entire soul-world. The ground before Chen Jianchen suddenly collapsed, forming a vast, deep abyss from which howling, ghostly winds erupted.

With the appearance of the abyss, not only the skeletons but even the scattered bones began to fly up of their own accord, plunging into the bottomless pit.

"Ghostly wails and divine cries, all is lawless; under the Yangwu Sword, all shall be slain."

Chen Jianchen stood sternly at the edge of the abyss, waiting to see what would emerge.

Crack!

With a strange noise, a demonic entity lunged out from the abyss. It was as large as a tiger, with a sharp beak and long claws, rushing straight toward Chen Jianchen...