Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 509: The Ancient Sun and Moon

“Hey, blind woman.”

Zhao Changhe really did not want to consult the blind woman on every single matter. He knew that aside from things related to the Heavenly Tome, she generally would not divulge anything, and he would likely just end up hitting a wall, perhaps even receiving some sarcastic remarks in return.

However, this idea of a body transforming into an entire realm was so unsettling that he felt that something might be different this time.

Sure enough, a languid “Hmm?” echoed in his mind.

Zhao Changhe exhaled with relief. “Since you’ve responded, does that mean my guess is on the right track?”

The blind woman replied lazily, “More or less.”

“Isn’t that way too ridiculous, though? I mean, as far as I can see, Old Cui, Ying Five, and the others on the Ranking of Heaven are at least still just martial artists... If this entire secret realm really came about from someone’s body transforming into a world, then that’s no longer just in the realm of xianxia but high immortals.”

“The disconnect between the two eras is severe to begin with. Didn’t you come to the Spirit Tribe seeking the bridge that connects the two?”

“But even if I’ve made the right guess, is there any point?” Zhao Changhe pressed on, “The phrase ‘Vermillion Bird and White Tiger converge in the southwestern wilderness’—surely it doesn’t mean that they have to come all the way here, does it?”

“Those two? They merely call themselves Vermillion Bird and White Tiger. Do you really think that they even hold a candle to the Vermillion Bird and White Tiger as described by the ancient shaman? Are they even worthy of carrying those titles right now?”

Zhao Changhe keenly picked up on the words... Since she said “right now,” doesn’t that mean that in the blind woman’s view, there’s still a chance that, in the future, they could truly become the true Vermillion Bird and White Tiger?

He did not comment on this and instead asked, “But the issue is, the Spirit Tribe’s shaman shouldn’t have been familiar with celestial phenomena associated with the Vermillion Bird and White Tiger. It would have made more sense for him to refer to Western constellations. Did he know the Night Emperor?”

The blind woman sounded somewhat perplexed. “Why shouldn’t the Spirit Tribe’s shaman recognize the Vermillion Bird and White Tiger?”

Zhao Changhe scratched his head, unsure of how to explain. After a long pause, he finally said, “So it really refers to the stars? Under certain celestial conditions, could this person be resurrected?”

The blind woman responded irritably, “Please, how should I know?”

Zhao Changhe tilted his head in confusion.

“I’m not some omniscient god. A shaman capable of transforming himself into a world—what level of being is that? Why should I be able to discern the intent behind the words he left behind?”

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“You’re losing your mystique, blind woman.”

The blind woman could not be bothered to respond.

Do you really see me to have any mystique when you apply that so-called beauty elixir of yours?

Zhao Changhe said evenly, “Why bother hiding anything from me? At the very least, you should know two things.”

“Oh?”

“First, if this individual truly has become the land, is it still possible for him to be resurrected?”

The blind woman remained silent for a moment before responding, “To the best of my knowledge, their body can never revert back to flesh and blood, but as for their soul... Who knows? At the very least, the earth-shattering catastrophe that you’re worried about, where your little maid gets pulverized, won’t happen.”

Zhao Changhe sneered, “That’s not my only concern. I’m also worried that the so-called collapse of your previous era happened precisely in this manner.”

The blind woman seemed rather impressed, then chuckled and replied, “That’s not the case.”

“Very well. Then second, you should at least know when exactly the celestial phenomenon in question will occur?”

“It’s simply a day around the transition between summer and autumn—most likely the autumnal equinox, at sunset, when the sun and moon coexist in the sky.”

“...That’s it? Why make it sound so mysterious?”

“Because the convergence of Vermillion Bird and White Tiger in the southwest refers to the transition between summer and autumn, but not every transition is worthy of that designation. Which specific year it pertains to, whether it requires the genuine Vermillion Bird and White Tiger to facilitate something, or what the shaman intended to convey to future generations—all of that is uncertain. And, once again, I’m not omniscient.”

Zhao Changhe nodded and looked up at the sky.

It was already late summer, and the summer-autumn transition was almost upon them. Theoretically, any day from now could qualify as the transition, so there was no need to overthink it. He might as well stay and cultivate here for a while, then see what unfolds when the time comes.

Moreover, based on the shape of the map, this part of the land seemed to represent the “head,” and this stone platform they occupied was very likely the corresponding spiritual platform.

If this was truly the spiritual platform of a grand shaman, then it was bound to have some benefits. Cultivating here was already advantageous, so instead of getting tangled up in uncertainties, it was best to cultivate with a clear mind—perhaps it may even allow him to stumble upon an opportunity to break through the second layer of the Profound Mysteries.

* * *

Zhao Changhe had not expected that the day would come so quickly.

Perhaps it was not meant to signify any specific date after all, but rather to instruct future generations to perform ancestral rites during the transition from summer to autumn... so that they may receive blessings.

The Spirit Tribe of the previous era had probably experienced these benefits, which was why, even in death, they had chosen to be buried here, embodying the significance of the “abyss of the setting sun,” making this place a final resting ground.

However, the Spirit Tribe of this era had completely lost touch with that heritage, and now lacked every bit of that knowledge.

With a maid as impassioned as Sisi accompanying him during cultivation, maintaining inner calm proved difficult, particularly with all the other maids sent away. The two of them lived their days with shameless abandon.

On the platform, Zhao Changhe sat cross-legged, eating, while the little maid knelt before him, her delicate hair moving up and down as she, too, was “eating.”

This was the usual post-cultivation routine after having trained to exhaustion, taking a momentary break. Even Zhao Changhe himself was not sure how it had come about—one day, he had simply been sitting here eating dinner, and Sisi had teased him, flirting in her usual way, and somehow, quite naturally, it had led to this...

The little enchantress of a foreign tribe was completely devoid of restraint at this time. Only a man as formidable as Zhao Changhe could handle her; anyone else would have been drained dry.

But for Zhao Changhe, it was just right—he truly needed this.

He gently caressed Sisi’s silken hair, the blood-red tint in his eyes gradually fading until his gaze was calm once more.

This was the seventh day Zhao Changhe had spent cultivating here.

To be fair, the results of these past days were nothing short of remarkable. Zhao Changhe could feel the spiraling energy within him had fully formed—his blood and qi and his inner breath had become steady, like the deep sea, tranquil yet holding boundless potential for eruption.

He was incredibly close to a breakthrough.

“Is the setting sun illuminating a solitary bird, or is a goshawk challenging the blazing sun?”

As Yue Hongling had said, it was when her intent had shifted from that of a solitary bird illuminated by the setting sun to a goshawk that challenged that very sun that she broke through to the second layer of the Profound Mysteries.

This transformation was not so easily translated for Zhao Changhe. He lacked such vivid imagery. His intent was abstract, an expansive concept like the heavens and stars. In battle, it may manifest as the river of stars cascading down, but how could he just have it reverse and flow back upward? Such imagery lacked purpose. At its core, Yue Hongling’s experience implied a shift—from merging with the forces of nature to beginning to master them.

For Zhao Changhe, this meant going from simply harnessing the surrounding vicious blood qi to becoming its master. Becoming a true master might still be distant, but breaking it down or assimilating it, making it so that there was no distinction between it and himself, no longer being overwhelmed, was likely the key step.

Thus, Zhao Changhe’s cultivation focused deliberately on stirring up his own vicious qi and evoking a response from the surrounding vicious qi. It was particularly apparent atop the burial ground. Each day, he ended up with eyes bloodshot, filled with an unrelenting ferocity, seeking an outlet.

And then, the little maid offered herself, allowing him to vent every last bit of that ferocity, restoring himself to his natural state.

As the sun set in the west and the evening breeze rolled in, the sun had yet to fully descend, while in the east, the moon had already peeked over the horizon. The sun and moon coexisted; twilight loomed, yet darkness had not fully arrived.

The vicious qi was spent, and his clarity returned.

An indescribable feeling emerged from deep within him, as though his spirit had traveled back to ancient times. He envisioned a towering shaman grasping both sun and moon, dragons and phoenixes soaring at his side, beasts roaring in unison. With one step, fissures split across the earth.

Sisi, sensing something profound, raised her eyes in awe.

In that moment, she, too, experienced insights into the primal magic of life. Witchcraft, or shamanic magic, of the highest order that had once seemed incomprehensible in the ancient texts suddenly made sense.

The meaning of the shaman’s message was almost painfully simple: “It is the time to honor your ancestors, you fools.”

Sisi beheld a world teeming with beasts, while Zhao Changhe gazed upon the sun and moon in his hands.

If the saber embodies yang, the sword embodies yin.

Vicious blood qi is yang, true qi is yin.

I am yang, Sisi is yin.

At the transition between summer and autumn, the sun and moon shone together.

The first page of the Heavenly Tome began to reveal faint words: “Unnamed Insight of the Two Polarities, awaiting completion.”

For the first time since Zhao Changhe had acquired the Heavenly Tome, it was not displaying someone else’s cultivation technique or martial arts technique but his own enlightenment.

A realization concerning his cultivation, the fusion of sword and saber...

Yue Hongling had once told him to seek guidance from other sects of the Central Plains, but it seemed that was no longer necessary. A supreme saber-and-sword combination divine art was beginning to take shape within his mind.

This was Zhao Changhe’s first original creation.

Although it was merely a secret art for harmonizing forces and a technique for coordinating the sword and saber, it marked a most crucial step in his martial arts journey: transitioning from learning the techniques of others to drawing upon the essence of the ancient sun and moon to create his own.

While there were still hints drawn from others’ insights, they were vague. This truly was his own creation.

He had yet to actually break through to the second layer of the Profound Mysteries, but his expression was perfectly calm. He now knew the exact way to do it.

“Your Majesty, Your Majesty!” A young maid came running urgently from a distance together with a few other maids. “We’ve received military reports from Taoyuan Town! Di Muzhi’s forces are advancing into Miaojiang, and Lei Zhentang has recovered and come out of seclusion!”