Chapter 184: The Reason the Forbidden Land Was Pierced
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
“I find it hard to believe!” In the Divine Temple, a white-clothed woman stood gracefully. Her flowing black hair and the white sash tied around her slender waist swayed gently in the air.
The scriptures engraved on the walls held no secrets for her; she had studied them for a long time. Yet, she had never been able to practice them successfully.
Qin Ming spoke calmly, “When I sparred with Senior earlier, I relied on the principles of these scriptures to unify various techniques.”
The woman was taken aback. More than anyone, she understood the difficulty of mastering the scriptures. Even with her extraordinary talent, she had been unable to make progress. She knew that this scripture had been purposefully crafted as a trap by an eccentric old man a long time ago.
She had heard stories about it.
But this linen-clothed youth before her had already demonstrated its use in actual combat?
Her captivating face beneath her dark hair showed a complex mix of emotions.
“The Silk Script Method is indeed extremely difficult to practice. I started learning it as a child and spent over ten years just to get started,” Qin Ming said with a sincere tone, as if reminiscing.
For some reason, the woman felt an urge to hit him.
When she thought about it carefully, she realized she had spent no less than ten years herself, but had never succeeded.
Of course, she was well aware of the dangers involved. Practicing this method often led to an explosive backlash. She had only persisted out of a refusal to admit defeat, hoping to explore the initial stages further.
“How did you master it?” she asked, unable to let go of the mystery.
“Two words: diligent practice,” Qin Ming replied earnestly.
Her gaze became sharp and dangerous. This scripture was not something that could be mastered merely through persistence. Besides, what were ten years in the grand scheme of things?
Sensing her mood, Qin Ming quickly added, “There is another way: guidance from a master. With their help, they can pave the way and form the initial circulation of the method.”
The woman stared at him. “So, you’re suggesting I should find a master? Or perhaps you want me to acknowledge you as my master?”
“That’s not what I meant at all,” Qin Ming said, shaking his head immediately.
He knew the Divine Temple was no ordinary place. Only the founder of the Silk Script Method, who had foreseen their own eventual demise, would have dared to act recklessly here. Qin Ming was far from ready to take such risks.
“This path isn’t worth pursuing!” she concluded, abandoning the idea altogether.
Out of goodwill, she reminded him of the method’s fatal flaw. “In the end, it will leave you empty-handed, returning everything to the heavens. This scripture has serious issues.”
“Thank you for the warning, Senior,” Qin Ming said, his eyes shining with determination. He had some confidence in eventually resolving this problem completely.
“You’re quite confident and proud, aren’t you?” she said, stepping forward with an intense gleam in her eyes. It was the same fiery determination Qin Ming had shown earlier, and she began to clench her fists as if preparing to strike.
Was she planning to take revenge?
Qin Ming felt uneasy. This senior had a surprisingly petty temperament for someone so accomplished.
“Master, your tea is ready,” a black-robed figure interrupted at that moment, their voice hoarse and indistinct, making it impossible to determine their gender. They had descended from the cold moon above, walking along a path of blue stone that stretched into the night sky before entering the temple’s main hall.
The white-clothed woman halted her approach and refrained from confronting Qin Ming further.
“You’ve passed the trial of life and death. Do you wish to challenge another path? Some trials involve enhancing your talent, prolonging your lifespan, or discovering the secrets of the Forbidden Land’s ultimate destination. Surely, something here must interest you,” she said.
After a moment of thought, Qin Ming declined. He knew when to stop. This place wasn’t somewhere he could linger safely.
Had it not been for the timely arrival of tea, he might have been in serious trouble!
The black-robed figure entered the main hall carrying a tea tray.
With a gentle wave of her hand, the white-clothed woman transformed the entire temple. The cobwebs vanished from the walls, the bloodstains on the floor disappeared, and the old tree in the courtyard began to sprout fresh branches and buds.
A soft, shimmering light flowed through the temple like water, washing over everything. Broken windows creaked in the night wind, and cracked floors were restored, becoming smooth and pristine.
Even the mysterious small town outside was astonished. Many residents noticed the Divine Temple glowing in the night fog, with golden rays piercing the darkness.
Now, the once-dilapidated temple stood majestic, with its grey tiles gleaming faintly gold. The grand hall became sacred, with crimson pillars carved with divine creatures, white mist swirling through the air, and moonlight pooling on the stone floor like a flowing stream.
Qin Ming felt as if he were in a dream. Everything seemed transformed. What’s more, he had been elevated to the status of an honored guest. The glowing inscriptions on the walls no longer oppressed him.
In the courtyard, the old, withered tree extended its branches into the temple and bloomed with lotus flowers, creating a throne-like seat for him.
He sat cross-legged on the lotus platform as tea was served. The white-clothed woman took her seat across from him.
However, when Qin Ming looked into the cup handed to him by the black-robed figure, he found it empty.
With a single motion from the woman, smoke rose from the incense burner in the depths of the hall near a hazy statue. The smoke coiled into threads and flowed into their tea cups.
“What is this?” Qin Ming was stunned. Were they drinking tea or consuming smoke?
He watched the white-clothed woman take a sip before cautiously following suit.
In an instant, he felt his mind clear, as if his spirit were about to ascend. His whole body seemed purified.
“Excellent tea!” he exclaimed. In this state, he could study the scriptures with half the effort and twice the results.
Looking at the glowing inscriptions on the wall, he began to comprehend their meaning faster. He dared not yet resonate with them, fearing his consciousness might collapse under the overwhelming emotions of the scripture’s founder.
“Do you know the ingredients of the incense in that bronze burner?” the white-clothed woman asked. “It’s made from a tiny fragment of the horn of a Northern Sea Purple-Gold Whale, rich with divine patterns. Mixed with the Tears of Heaven’s Vault from the depths of the Night Fog World and the sap of an Undying Tree from the Kun Lun Abyss, it’s further enhanced with…”
Qin Ming was dumbfounded. Each material she listed was a priceless rarity, yet they had all been used to make incense. Such extravagance!
The woman sighed. “Someone else gave it to me. Unfortunately, they’re dead now. I’ll never taste tea like this again.”
“But isn’t this it?” Qin Ming asked, glancing at the cup in his hand.
“It’s just re-burned ash,” she replied.
Qin Ming choked. Was he consuming ash?
The woman gave him a sidelong glance. “The fragrance may be faint, but tell me, hasn’t it had some effect?”
“Thank you, Senior!” Qin Ming said earnestly and returned to studying the scriptures with renewed focus.
Qin Ming had meticulously memorized the entirety of the Refined Sutra, achieving some profound new insights in the process. This version of the ancient scripture could lead one to the Fourth Realm’s completion. However, it abruptly stopped midway through the Fifth Realm.
The Ancestor who authored this sutra had evidently deemed the continuation too dangerous, a path wrought with calamity. Even so, it offered significantly more than the Silk Script Sutra passed down in Qin Ming’s family, as much of his family’s version had been deliberately torn away. The Ancestor had judged the latter half of the scripture perilous, with fatal consequences for those who dared practice it.
For Qin Ming, retrieving the Silk Script Sutra from the Cui Family had always been a persistent desire, as it might help him resonate with the entirety of this sutra.
Determined to explore the Wall Sutra Resonance, he cautiously attempted to establish a connection with the inscriptions. His experiments, though tentative, were met with an overwhelming reaction. A single attempt left him reeling as if struck by lightning, his mind blank and buzzing.
“This Ancestor’s power is terrifying!” he thought, barely holding himself together.
From afar, the Black-Robed Figure sensed this disturbance, his expression briefly betraying surprise. He quietly observed Qin Ming.
Meanwhile, the White-Clothed Woman, seated nearby with her tea, noticed Qin Ming’s struggles and quipped, “Is this some kind of devil scripture? Others achieve serenity and insight through their meditations, yet here you are, looking like you’re fighting for your life.”
Undeterred by the immense strain, Qin Ming threw himself into the process. Each attempt to resonate left him physically drained and mentally shattered, yet he persisted. Over time, he managed to connect with the sutra in fragments, pushing himself to the brink.
Finally, exhausted to his very core, he sighed in frustration. The Ancestor’s lingering intent only extended to the Fifth Realm’s original framework, offering nothing beyond.
Still, Qin Ming felt satisfied. This knowledge would take him years to digest and spared him from prematurely risking his life to retrieve the family’s Silk Script Sutra. He could now proceed cautiously in his journey.
Outside in the Mysterious Small Town, rumors buzzed about Li Wanqiu. Everyone assumed he had perished in the Divine Temple, reduced to a bloody mess.
“So much for being a Young Ancestor, blessed by the Pure Yang Light! He ended up as nothing more than a splatter of blood inside the temple,” one said.
“Even someone like Cao Ganqiu would be cut down to pieces if he dared enter,” another sneered.
“Keep mocking him. If he learns your whereabouts, he’ll obliterate your entire lineage,” someone warned.
Only Wu Yaozu refused to believe his newfound friend had died. Despite others urging him to give up, he remained steadfast in his vigil.
“Why wait? He’s long gone,” someone said dismissively.
“Let’s make a wager, then,” proposed the Golden-Haired Elder, perched atop a Four-Tusked White Elephant. “If I win, can I stay at your courtyard for a night?”
Wu Yaozu nodded. “Fine, but your stakes better satisfy me.”
The wager soon drew in others, including a Golden-Horned Youth, eager to join the bet.
Meanwhile, within the Divine Temple, the Black-Robed Figure silently exited. Qin Ming turned his attention to the White-Clothed Woman, who had grown visibly irritable, still harboring her earlier frustrations. Her fists clenched, and her glare suggested she might pummel him for some perceived slight.
Sensing danger, Qin Ming scrambled to redirect her wrath. “Senior, shouldn’t you deal with those slandering the Divine Temple? Like Cao Ganqiu—always criticizing everything! He despises the heavens and scorns the earth!”
The White-Clothed Woman paused, her irritation easing into a contemplative expression. “You make a good point. Squashing you would be messy. But perhaps I could deal with those loudmouths outside instead.”
Suddenly, from the night fog emerged Li Wanqiu, his form shrouded in mist as he returned to the courtyard. The sight stunned the townsfolk into silence.
Wu Yaozu, overjoyed, turned to his companions, rubbing his hands expectantly. “Well, you all owe me!”
Before anyone could react further, Wu Yaozu’s grandmother appeared, her expression grave. “Morning journeys scatter your flesh, nighttime ones sever your soul. Only at midday, when the moon is farthest, can you leave safely. Prepare yourselves; I’ll personally escort you out.”
Within the now-decayed temple, the grandeur of earlier visions vanished. Dusty cobwebs clung to crumbling walls, and the towering halls reduced to ruin. The White-Clothed Woman stood still, lost in thought, while the Black-Robed Figure reappeared, chiding her. “You’ve done it again—pretending to be me!”
He then addressed her seriously. “The Fourth Forbidden Land is growing too dangerous. You should leave.”
“I’d rather stay with you,” she murmured.
But the Black-Robed Figure shook his head. “We don’t even know who pierced this land. Their strength is beyond imagination. This place will soon face its end.”
Reluctantly, the White-Clothed Woman agreed. Yet, before leaving, she balled her fists, her expression hardened with determination.
“What now?” the Black-Robed Figure asked.
“Those wanderers outside are too arrogant. It’s time someone taught them a lesson,” she declared. Influenced by Qin Ming’s suggestion and her own irritation, she prepared to make her move.
As the town speculated whether the Divine Temple had truly been conquered, the White-Clothed Woman emerged, a storm of suppressed fury fueling her resolve. The stage was set for an unforgettable confrontation.