“Dust, you really won’t return to the Hell Realm with me?” Gong Nanfeng said, visibly disappointed.
After all, he had waited a thousand years.
Zhang Ruochen’s mind was in turmoil, his thoughts elsewhere. He shook his head gently, saying, “I’m now in the Thousand Questions Realm. I need to return to the Kunlun Realm, to the Heavenly Court, to mend the flaws in my heart. The day my heart is complete is the day I’ll return to the Hell Realm.”
Gong Nanfeng understood. After all, Zhang Ruochen grew up in the Kunlun Realm.
To pass the Thousand Questions Realm, he had to return and face his past.
“Shall I send a message to the Blood Absolute Clan? You’ve been silent for a thousand years, isolated in the Xumi Temple, impossible to trace. They might think you died a millennium ago and are likely very worried,” Gong Nanfeng said.
Zhang Ruochen nodded, “Thank you.”
“Dust, with our bond, no need for thanks.”
Now at the Life-and-Death Realm’s peak, Gong Nanfeng was powerful, unafraid of having his divine weapon stolen, confident to travel alone, believing no place in the universe was off-limits.
“My return to the Kunlun Realm must only be told to my mother. Otherwise, you’ll get me killed,” Zhang Ruochen said gravely.
Gong Nanfeng patted his chest, “Understood. My lips are sealed. I won’t let slip that you’re going to the Kunlun Realm or the Heavenly Court.”
As a Hell Realm cultivator, sneaking into the Kunlun Realm and Heavenly Court was risky.
If word spread that Zhang Ruochen was alive and in those places, the consequences would be dire.
After parting with Gong Nanfeng, Zhang Ruochen hurried to the Kunlun Realm.
He had come to terms with many things. Though he returned to the original timeline, time did not wait. It kept flowing.
Time spares no one, as it always has.
Venturing to the past inevitably meant missing the present.
One cannot always gain without loss.
Gains and losses are always balanced.
A thousand years is but a fleeting moment for gods, who may retreat for longer.
For Great Sages, a thousand years is neither long nor short. Those pursuing the divine path often spend millennia in the Hundred Shackles and Life-and-Death Realms, refining their holy intent and accumulating rules.
For instance, Bai Qing’er and Yan Yu spent over a thousand years in the Hundred Shackles Realm.
The stronger the holy intent, the more time it takes.
To achieve great heights in the Divine Realm, one must invest significant time in the Saint Realm. Even Bai Qing’er took nearly three thousand years to become a god.
Chi Yao reached divinity in eight hundred years, aided by the time-space treasure “Heavenly Wheel Seal,” but her actual cultivation time was not much less than three thousand years.
Da Sikong and Er Sikong reached demigod status in a millennium. First, as Buddhist cultivators, they could break through the Thousand Questions Realm quickly. Second, in the Origin Temple, they harvested numerous primordial holy medicines with pure origin power, piling up rules to easily complete the Life-and-Death Realm.
In the Hundred Shackles Realm, they spent centuries forging high-grade holy intents.
But for Saint Realm cultivators, a thousand years is a lifetime.
Most human Saints do not live that long.
As for mortals…
Zhang Ruochen dared not think further, knowing some could wait a thousand years, but others could not.
Thus, he rushed to the Kunlun Realm.
The War of Merits ended a thousand years ago. The Kunlun Realm’s spatial rifts were repaired, and a protective array was set up outside, using stars, ruin realms, star fortresses, and ancient holy cities as its foundation. Entering the Kunlun Realm freely was now impossible.
Fortunately, with Da Sikong and Er Sikong, two Buddhist demigods of the Kunlun Realm, Zhang Ruochen slipped through the array, quietly returning.
He did not immediately visit the Death God Island Master, unsure if his Grandmaster was in the Kunlun Realm. Instead, he sped to Tiantai Prefecture in the Central Region.
The Kunlun Realm had fully revived, its lands vast, mountains and rivers vibrant, and prefectures thriving.
A prosperous era, as the Holy Monk Xumi had wished.
The Blood God Sect, one of the seven ancient sects since the Middle Ages, had its headquarters in northern Tiantai Prefecture’s “Ten Thousand Saints Land,” near the Juegu Snow Mountain.
Zhang Ruochen did not visit the Blood God Sect to meet Blood Spirit Immortal or old friends. He went straight to the Juegu Snow Mountain, crossing a thousand miles of ice and snow to the edge of the Endless Abyss.
The Endless Abyss, one of the Kunlun Realm’s most mysterious places.
Standing there, Zhang Ruochen looked up. Thick clouds hung just dozens of metres above, oppressively close.
Looking out, there was endless void.
This cliff felt like the world’s end.
Zhang Ruochen recalled his first time here, feeling the sky might collapse, the clouds too low, too dark, as if they could swallow him.
Back then, he came to find the missing Saint Book Maiden.
The past was unbearable to recall.
His heart tightened with a trace of fear as he leapt into the abyss.
Soon, he passed the first gradient, reaching the second.
Before him stood a blood-red mountain, adorned with numerous palaces and pavilions. Blood-red water cascaded from the peak as a majestic waterfall.
Whoosh.
Zhang Ruochen sensed several powerful presences on the mountain but did not disturb them, heading straight to a courtyard on the mountainside.
His steps were heavy, his heart gripped by growing fear.
Like a wanderer returning home.
Imagining the courtyard’s scene, Zhang Ruochen froze before reaching the gate, petrified.
Standing on the cliff’s edge, dozens of metres from the courtyard, his eyes fixed on a solitary grave under a barren blood maple tree. Tears streamed down as he collapsed to his knees, his voice choked with sobs, “Mother, I’ve returned too late. Your Dust… returned too late!”
The grave was desolate, covered in blood-red maple leaves.
The tombstone bore four words: “Tomb of Lin Lan.”
Lin Lan was the name of Zhang Ruochen’s mother, Consort Lin.
The Blood Empress had sent someone to bring her to the Endless Abyss, where she lived in this courtyard. Before Zhang Ruochen left for the Hell Realm, he saw her here for the last time.
Knowing a thousand years had passed, he had prepared himself, yet clung to a faint hope.
He imagined pushing open the door to find his mother overjoyed, taking his hand, repeating warm words, urging him to stay safe and avoid risks.
She would prepare a feast, piling food into his bowl, smiling, watching him eat, as if she could never see enough, filled with doting love.
But the tombstone and grave shattered his fantasies.
Zhang Ruochen thought his countless brushes with death, witnessing monks turn to bones, and journeying to the Primeval Beginning had hardened his heart.
Yet, a small grave instantly broke his emotional defences.
Now, he was as fragile as a child, unable to stem his tears.
Crawling to Consort Lin’s grave, he wailed, “Mother… Mother… Your Dust returned too late… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
“It’s all my fault. I was wrong. I should’ve stayed with you. I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
Unable to control his emotions, Zhang Ruochen let out a long, anguished cry.
Creak!
The courtyard gate opened, and Kong Xuan hurried out.
Seeing Zhang Ruochen weeping uncontrollably before the grave, she froze for a moment before tentatively asking, “Young Master… is it you?”
Zhang Ruochen’s appearance differed slightly from his days as the Ninth Prince of Yunwu Commandery, and after the Primeval Beginning, even his aura had changed.
After a thousand years, Kong Xuan hesitated to recognise the man before her.
After all, the world believed Zhang Ruochen died a thousand years ago in the Origin Temple of Jiannan Realm, possibly killed by a Heavenly Realm god or Xiuchen Tianshen.
Whoosh.
Several figures arrived, landing on the mountain path, standing at the cliff’s edge, watching Zhang Ruochen.
Among them were the Blood Empress’s disciples, Qiu Yichi and Chi Linyuan, and Kong Lanyou.
Seeing the figure kneeling before the grave, Kong Lanyou’s eyes reddened, tears streaming as she trembled, “Cousin, you’ve finally returned!”
Qiu Yichi and Chi Linyuan were stunned, exchanging glances.
Zhang Ruochen ignored everyone, lost in grief, slumped among the blood maple leaves, too weak to stand, muttering softly.
After a long while, when his emotions stabilised, Kong Lanyou approached, saying softly, “Cousin, please grieve. Aunt Lin was only mortal, unable to escape life’s cycle.”
“She, a mortal, must have been lonely in the Endless Abyss all those years,” Zhang Ruochen said.
Kong Lanyou replied, “I had Kong Xuan take Aunt Lin to Wang Mountain in the Eastern Region, where the Lin family, Fourth Prince, and Ninth Princess were. With family, she wasn’t alone.”
“In her later years, Aunt Lin insisted on returning to the Endless Abyss to wait for you, to see you one last time. Your cousin from the Lin family also came, accompanying her in her final days.”
“I tried to extend her life to fulfil her wish, but at two hundred thirty, she was exhausted, her life’s flame extinguished. Even a Great Sage couldn’t save her.”
“Those years, she stood daily with a cane, with Kong Xuan and Lin Lingshan, by this cliff, under this blood maple, gazing into the distance, murmuring, ‘Why hasn’t my Dust returned? Why hasn’t my Dust returned? I fear I won’t see him…’”
“Before she died, Lin Lingshan wanted to take her body to Wang Mountain to bury with the Commandery Prince. But she insisted on staying here, waiting for you. She said she’d wait at this cliff, to see you the moment you returned.”
Tears surged again in Zhang Ruochen, his guilt and self-blame overwhelming.
Memories flooded back.
He recalled arriving eight hundred years in the past, haunted by nightmares of being killed by Chi Yao, comforted in Consort Lin’s arms.
He recalled her kneeling before her brother at the Lin Mansion to secure cultivation techniques for him.
He recalled her secretly selling her golden hairpin to buy blood pills when he began cultivating.
For Consort Lin, Zhang Ruochen was her everything.
But he spent too little time with her, often disappearing for long periods, leaving her worried.
When captured by the First Central Empire, he faked his death with Sword Saint Xuanji’s help, changing his identity. Huang Yanchen cared for her then.
Later, in the Heavenly Court, Fourth Prince Zhang Shaochu, Ninth Princess Zhang Yuxi, and Lin Lingshan looked after her.
Following the Blood Empress to the Hell Realm, Zhang Ruochen thought he’d soon rescue Kong Le and Kunlun. But upon returning, a thousand years had passed, and his mother never saw him again.
Zhang Ruochen reflected, even without the millennium in the Xumi Temple, how much time could he have spent with her?
Less than Huang Yanchen, likely.
There were always too many constraints, always on the path of cultivation, always teetering on life and death.
But without striving, without fighting, how could he protect those he loved?
Was companionship or protection more important?
Zhang Ruochen no longer wanted to ponder this. His mind was filled with his mother waiting here daily, only to die in despair.
“Soul Summoning.”
Zhang Ruochen’s eyes blazed, palms pressing to the ground, unleashing powerful mental energy.
Transparent figures formed from his mental thoughts, swiftly carving a soul-summoning array, intricate patterns emerging.
Kong Lanyou, knowing Zhang Ruochen’s deep emotions, urged, “It’s futile, Cousin. Aunt Lin was mortal, her soul too fragile, long dissipated.”
Kong Lanyou had tried preserving Consort Lin’s soul, but it was useless. A mortal’s soul loses consciousness soon after death, becoming a mindless ghost.
What was the point of preserving that?
Better to let her pass peacefully.
Moreover, Consort Lin’s soul was exhausted at her death.
Qiu Yichi said, “Your Highness, Lady Lin passed centuries ago. All souls are gone. Even if summoned, it’s just a shadow without consciousness. Summoning will only bring you backlash, no meaning.”
Zhang Ruochen ignored them, resolute.
Soon, the soul-summoning array was complete. Under his mental urging, the sky churned, thunder roared, rain fell, and a deep soul-summoning channel slowly opened.
“Mother, where are you? Return!”
Zhang Ruochen strained to control the channel, gathering Consort Lin’s soul fragments.
After an unknown time, even his formidable mental strength faltered, blood tears streaming, and the channel collapsed, the sky’s phenomena vanishing.
Only rain remained, soaking his hair and robes.
“Again.”
Zhang Ruochen pressed a palm to his chest, spitting blood.
Using his blood, he activated the array again.
Kong Lanyou, Qiu Yichi, Chi Linyuan, and Kong Xuan could no longer stand by. They poured their mental strength into the array, regardless of its effect.
This time, through the array, Zhang Ruochen saw a faint, flickering elderly figure in the distant depths.
“Mother!”
He roared with all his strength.
The figure walked on, deaf to his call.
The array collapsed again. Kong Lanyou, Qiu Yichi, Chi Linyuan, and Kong Xuan, exhausted, fell to the ground.
Zhang Ruochen, eyes wild, cut his wrists, using the faint blood connection with Consort Lin to summon again.
After a long time, he saw that elderly figure again in the distant depths.
“Mother, come back, it’s your Dust!”
“Mother!”
“Mother!”
He called out desperately, his voice tearing.
Just as he could no longer hold on, at the channel’s end, the elderly figure seemed to hear him, turning back with a faint smile before vanishing completely.
Zhang Ruochen’s vision darkened, his mental strength depleted, collapsing in the rain.
