Chapter Ninety-Three: The Pitiful, Heartless Moon

A deep indigo true qi suddenly erupted from the universe bag, like a thunderclap breaking the stillness of the earth, attempting to shatter the palm and fingers Chen Heng had probed with. Yet it lacked sustained strength and, with just a slight press, it dissipated like crumbling clouds and melting mist, unable to block anything.

After dispelling the enchantment sealing the bag, Chen Heng peered inside. It contained only various talisman coins and artifacts, nothing extraordinary. Even the few bottles of elixirs were dimly glowing, clearly of low quality.

Shaking his head, he gathered everything up casually, then picked up another universe bag to continue breaking the remaining seals within.

On this expedition to Huaiwu Cave, four foundation-building cultivators from the Blood Lotus Sect had died, with countless qi practitioners lost beyond reckoning.

Especially Qin Xian, a foundation-building second stage cultivator whose personal wealth was exceptionally vast. A rough count of his talisman coins alone amounted to six or seven thousand.

Though these were to be split evenly between him and Yuan Yangsheng, each receiving half.

Still, this fortune quickly replenished Chen Heng’s nearly depleted universe bags from his qi training, to the point that one bag could not contain it all. He had to pull out a new bag just to barely manage.

After this back-and-forth, two hours had slipped away by the time Chen Heng finally finished counting.

“Thinking carefully, since I began cultivating, the few times my wealth flourished were always by means of conflict and killing...”

Chen Heng held a long sword that gleamed with cold brilliance and frost-like clarity in his hand, raising it to eyebrow height, crossing it before his eyes.

He stared at it intently for a long moment, his mind slightly focused, pondering:

“Who could have imagined? Probably even I, struggling to survive in the water prison back then, dared not think so... That I, Chen Heng, would come to this day...”

Since his rebirth into this world of Xu Capital Sky, after receiving the abyssal talisman edict, gifted the Little White Sun Pill by Ai Jian to extend his life, then unlocking the golden cicada stage, achieving embryonic breathing, and finally descending Little Sweet Mountain to avoid Yan Feichen and the Yan family.

From Xu Zhi, Tu Shan Ge, Yang Shan Daoist, the Rong clan... all the way to the present Floating Jade Anchorage.

Though now he remained a mere minor qi practitioner, insignificant as ants or mosquitoes in this great immortal era,

Still, he was free from the bitter cold brought by the Han Dou true qi, no longer feeling the bone-chilling cold whenever the mountain wind brushed past, no longer blood stiffening in agony.

Recalling his previous life, bedridden with chronic illness, scarcely seeing daylight outside the window, merely waiting for death day by day,

Chen Heng felt a surreal sense as if in a dream.

After a few breaths,

He let out a light chuckle, dispersing the tumultuous thoughts in his heart and settling his mind.

“This sword is quite first-rate, suitable for use. It could be gifted to senior brother Xu Zhi after returning to the mountain; he lacks a flying sword and could use one. At least as a convenient favor.”

Chen Heng placed the flying sword across his knees and thought to himself.

Among the fortune he counted today were talisman coins worth tens of thousands, countless low-grade elixirs, talismans, Daoist techniques, formation plates, and various miscellaneous items. Though some were of little value, they were still abundant and could serve as collectibles.

His current wealth and possessions, he reckoned, could be considered substantial among foundation-building cultivators.

But if the most precious item among this fortune was anything,

It was not robes, spiritual treasures, or medicinal plants, but the flying sword laid across his knees...

Named “Zhan Zhu,” about three feet four inches long and two fingers wide, its hilt adorned with seven-colored pearls and nine-colored jade, the whole sword resembling a candlelight flickering in the void, polished to a pristine shine with every detail distinct. Its material was second only to Chen Heng’s Qing Lü sword—extremely sharp and deadly, piercing flesh and bone!

With a slight stimulation of embryonic breathing, the sword’s blade would emit a high, clear, crane-like cry, as if ready to slash through the air at any moment to sever a skull, radiating a chilling murderous intent!

Refined twice, sealed with seventeen great spiritual treasures!

This Zhan Zhu sword was remarkable even among mid-grade talisman weapons.

Chen Heng had obtained it from Qin Xian’s universe bag. Judging by the various pearl and jade decorations on the hilt, it was clearly the cherished weapon of the foundation-building second stage cultivator.

However, during the duel, Qin Xian was first pinned down by Yuan Yangsheng’s Ten Directions Detachment Cleansing Eye, then blasted into a blood mist by Chen Heng’s direct punch, unable to use any sword techniques.

Since arriving in this world, Xu Zhi had helped Chen Heng more than once, not only with the embryonic breathing technique of “fearless of life and death, naturally self-possessed.”

This Zhan Zhu sword was to be a small token of gratitude.

“However, senior brother already possesses a swordsmanship nearly godlike in the mundane world, reaching the limit of ‘killing every ten steps.’ I have yet to find that path... Yet he’s only a qi practitioner, unable even to afford a low-grade flying sword, relying on an iron sword for protection.”

Thinking this, even Chen Heng was momentarily speechless.

A few months ago, when he descended the mountain escorting his clan brother Chen Ze’s coffin, he was equally penniless, not much better than Xu Zhi.

But after several bouts of fighting,

The contents of the universe bag grew vastly.

“With senior brother’s temper, fond of tranquility and averse to movement, it’s likely difficult.”

Chen Heng shook his head, no longer pondering.

After stowing away the Zhan Zhu sword, he took out the Beidou Sword Talisman the Huaiwu Cave master had gifted him, said to be produced by the Five Lights Sect.

Legend said the Five Lights Sect possessed a great divine technique called the “Beidou Star Comet Sword Classic,” a specialized sword Dao. When perfected, merely releasing one’s sword intent could fill a realm with cutting energy, severing all beings who opposed one’s will.

Overbearingly supreme, fierce and sharp!

This sword classic drew inspiration from “the constellation of the emperor, the leader commanding myriad stars,” a profound and lofty concept, far above mundane and inferior methods.

The Beidou Sword Talisman given by the Huaiwu Cave master was forged by a sword cultivator who had mastered the Beidou Star Comet Sword Classic, embedding a sword qi within the talisman.

Once unleashed, even those at the Purple Mansion realm would be split into corpses in two—no mercy granted.

Though powerful, it was still the Huaiwu Cave master’s property, so Chen Heng remained cautious—

Only after summoning several lively targets in the One Truth Realm and using the talisman multiple times, witnessing nothing abnormal beyond pools of blood, did he feel somewhat assured.

...

“Things are inevitable now. Tomorrow at the Shen hour, when Huaiwu Cave master personally teaches the top three disciples...”

The various matters of Floating Jade Anchorage would finally reach a conclusion.

Chen Heng exhaled deeply and rose from the meditation cushion.

He paced to the window, gazing at the waning moon hung like a hook in the sky, its myriad points of clear light shining brightly.

Outside the inn, several apricot trees grew as tall as the eaves, their gnarled branches stretching before the window like the scales of an ancient purple dragon, possessing a wild and unrestrained elegance. Yet the small blossoms on them were lush and delicate, brilliantly radiant.

He opened the round window, releasing the soundproof enchantment, and the long-captured world poured inside.

The wind, river tides, insect chirps, fish leaps, mountain movements, and drifting mist—

A wondrous symphony, like pearls spilling from a jade plate.

River sounds shook his pillow, a stretch of moonlight remained, flower shadows spread across the ground, and verdant mountains filled the view.

Far away, faint music floated on the breeze, carrying a lazy, festive joy mingled with firecrackers and laughter. The zither’s melody was gentle as water, seemingly untouched by dust.

Chen Heng tapped the carved window frame with his knuckles, subconsciously keeping time with the distant zither. Suddenly, he recalled that in a few days it would be the “Fengsi Festival.”

This was a celebration observed throughout the Rong Kingdom, originally a ritual for praying for children to wash away impurities. Passed down through generations, it gradually became a day to pray for marriage matches.

In his past memories, on this day, young men and women of marriageable age would hide a flower branch in their sleeves and participate in the ritual by the water with elders. On the day of the Fengsi Festival, there would be firecrackers, fireworks, and lantern processions. If, after the evening lantern festival, the young men and women exchanged the flower branches they had concealed all day, it signified mutual affection, prompting their parents and clan leaders to select an auspicious date for formal betrothal ceremonies.

In his previous life, he never cared for such festivities. During his time with the Chen clan, he never once participated.

Later, after being abducted by Yan Zhen to the Xuan Zhen Sect,

Each Fengsi Festival, Yan Zhen would often offer him a flower branch gift, but he always received a cold face in return, sometimes even being mocked by his previous self, provoking Yan Zhen to anger repeatedly.

Thus, the Fengsi Festival was often spent in punishment and reprimand.

The day before, he had been beaten until bloodied and battered.

The next day, after Yan Zhen’s anger subsided, she would hold him crying, applying medicine with her own hands—a familiar scene.

Looking carefully back,

After leaving Huaiwu Cave, everywhere along the shore—water pavilions, palaces, and towers—was decorated with red silk and colorful ribbons, a grand and joyful scene, evidently preparations for the Fengsi Festival.

At the time, Chen Heng paid no attention, brushing it all away without thought.

Only now, hearing the music, did the memory suddenly surge back with clarity.

“Youth does not return, a day cannot have two dawns...”

Chen Heng sighed deeply.

Above, the moon shone as brightly as last night, its light eternal and unchanged, but people were like mayflies, fleeting and impermanent—born in the morning and dead by night, never able to savor this enduring and rare scene.

Up to this day,

Whether Yan Zhen, his former self, or those who once watched the moon beneath this very moonlight long ago, how many remained until today? Not merely a handful of earth?

“Human life is like morning dew; the eternal moon shines long. Time waits for no one; in a moment, hair turns white...”

Immortality.

Immortality!

Only eternal life, shining alongside the sun and moon, constant as heaven and earth!

Reborn once more, luckily arriving in this immortal world of the Nine Provinces and Four Seas.

All he sought was what he failed to attain in his previous life: immortality!

...

Chen Heng stood silently by the window for some time, motionless, his face calm and silent, revealing no joy or anger.

Only his eyes flickered dimly, like ripples spreading across a lake’s surface.

“You boy, truly like a jade mountain by my side, illuminating nearby with lofty grace...”

At this moment, the Ancestor Fu Can suddenly poked his head in, mumbling:

“At first, I thought your elder brother’s charm and demeanor marked him as a genuine immortal, unmatched across the Nine Provinces and Four Seas. But after seeing you these past few days,I'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.