Chapter 60
Ming Jian Su was momentarily stunned, a flicker of worry in her eyes as she searched for any hint of jest in Feng Chiyue’s expression. Could this parasol tree weave illusions? Or was it a premonition of the future? Her mind was in turmoil, but she kept her emotions in check. Meeting Feng Chiyue’s gaze, which held a faint golden glow, she forced a smile. “Would you let me get hurt, Junior Sister?” she asked.
Feng Chiyue blinked and, after a moment of silence, replied, “As long as I’m here, no.” Her gaze was evasive, but Ming Jian Su caught the underlying meaning. In the vision her junior sister had seen, she was either absent or in a perilous situation, unable to protect herself. The thought was like a knife twisting in her heart, and a wave of rage and killing intent surged within her, causing her swords to hum mournfully, like a lament for a doomed fate. She wouldn’t, couldn’t allow that to happen! Her life wouldn’t be dictated by an illusion.
“Did you find any trace of the nascent Heavenly Dao, Junior Sister?” she asked softly, her voice laced with hatred and killing intent towards the Minor Realm’s Heavenly Dao. Regardless of its form, whether it was this parasol tree or something else, it had shown her junior sister a hellish vision, causing her immense pain. It deserved to die. She stared at Feng Chiyue, her mind consumed by a single, desperate thought: kill the Heavenly Dao, then attack the Immortal Realm!
The parasol leaves, untouched by the flames, rustled in the wind, drifting down from the branches.
Feng Chiyue reached out and caught a leaf, its color a vibrant red against the firelight. She watched as it slowly transformed into a phoenix feather, shimmering with blood.
She released her grip and smiled at Ming Jian Su. “I found it,” she said. The massive phoenix totem gradually faded, its sun-like brilliance disappearing, but the sea of fire remained. Her red robes seemed to blend with the flames, her sleeves billowing like phoenix wings.
Ming Jian Su raised an eyebrow, watching as Feng Chiyue extended her hand again.
The moment the world-consuming phoenix vanished, her eyes narrowed. “Phoenix Blood Feather,” she murmured.
Beneath the parasol tree.
The feathered immortals finally recovered from their shock. They looked up at the sky, watching the phoenix soaring amidst the flames, its wings spread wide, gazing down upon them. The branches and leaves hadn’t been consumed by the fire but had grown even more vibrant. As the flames subsided, the leaves shimmered with a golden glow, radiating a sacred aura. They stared from afar, their bodies instinctively bowing in submission.
“Leader, what is…” Someone finally broke the silence.
They couldn’t discern the newcomers’ origins and had never imagined encountering a phoenix.
The phoenix leader also slowly emerged from her trance, a myriad of emotions swirling within her. Her lips moved soundlessly, then she finally spoke. “Virtuous Sound,” she said. That strange technique that had rendered them powerless earlier, it must have been the Phoenix’s Virtuous Sound. Although this newcomer was an outsider, she could resonate with the parasol tree and even summon its totem. She was the one their lineage had been waiting for.
“It’s our Sovereign! It must be our Sovereign come to save us!” an elder, her voice trembling with emotion, cried out before the leader could speak. Tears streamed down her face.
“But she… she…” A young phoenix hesitated, then whispered, “She doesn’t resemble the Sovereign we’ve been expecting, the one who will lead us on the path of revenge.” The Sovereign they had imagined was dignified, noble, and aloof. But this person who resembled their Sovereign… she was clinging to that sword cultivator, her every move full of affection, like a spoiled child.
After a moment of silence, the elder knocked the bold phoenix on the head. “Don’t speak ill of our Sovereign!” she said, clearly convinced that Feng Chiyue was the one they had been waiting for. She hesitated, then whispered to the leader. With a flap of her wings, she soared towards the branches, searching for their Sovereign. However, moments later, she fell back down. She tried again, flying upwards several times, but she couldn’t escape the same fate.
Disbelief, fear, and disappointment spread among the feathered immortals. After a long moment, the elder finally spoke, her voice dry. “Our Sovereign… she doesn’t recognize us.”
“But weren’t they targeting us?” a phoenix whispered. “Didn’t they want to bring us under their command?” They completely ignored the fact that Ming Jian Su was acting on behalf of the Heavenly Court. After all, that emissary from above had been killed by their Sovereign and her guard.
“Perhaps she finds us ugly?” a clever young one suggested. Meeting her clansmen’s angry glares, she stubbornly continued, “That sword cultivator beside our Sovereign seems to hold a high status. Perhaps she influenced our Sovereign, making her think that our true forms are ugly.”
Although this speculation hurt their pride, it was still better than being abandoned by their Sovereign. They exchanged glances, then transformed back into their human forms. The elder, rejected several times, flew towards the branches again. This time, she didn’t fall.
It was Feng Chiyue who had pushed her down.
Ming Jian Su had been curious about these phoenixes’ origins, and after witnessing her junior sister’s unusual behavior, her desire to learn the truth intensified. However, before she could ask, she saw the elder, who had been enveloped in black flames, fall from the branches. She glanced at Feng Chiyue, who appeared unconcerned, and decided not to inquire. Nothing was more important than her junior sister’s happiness.
The elder’s heart pounded. She discreetly glanced at Feng Chiyue, then quickly looked away. “My name is Feng Shuo,” she said gently. “I’m an elder of the Phoenix Clan. May I know your names, honored guests?” Her initial wariness, defensiveness, and killing intent had vanished completely. She tried to remain calm, but her eyes still held a longing for their Sovereign.
Ming Jian Su stepped in front of Feng Chiyue, blocking her from view. “Ming Jian Su from the Immortal Realm,” she said calmly. The Minor Realm’s nascent Heavenly Dao was attached to the blood feather, currently in her junior sister’s sleeve. The Heavenly Emperor’s task was complete. They could leave at any time. However, some matters remained unresolved. She didn’t intend to leave just yet. Of course, she would handle it. These phoenixes wouldn’t get their hands on her junior sister! She had noticed their change in attitude after the phoenix totem appeared. They were likely planning to latch onto her junior sister.
Feng Shuo waited for her to continue, but Ming Jian Su remained silent.
Feng Chiyue, seeing that she hadn’t introduced her, didn’t ask. Her eyes and her heart were filled only with Ming Jian Su.
She didn’t want to relive those memories. The torrent of images in her Sea of Consciousness had been compressed into a ball of light, isolated and forgotten.
Sensing their indifference, Feng Shuo felt a sharp pang of pain. She forced a smile and changed the subject. “If you have anything to say, honored guests, please come to our settlement,” she said.
Ming Jian Su turned to Feng Chiyue, who nodded. “Alright,” she said to Feng Shuo.
Not only the phoenixes but also the other feathered lineages in this region lived in those cage-like houses hanging from the parasol tree. Fortunately, their settlement, a place to worship their ancestors, was open-air, located beneath the tree. Leaves swayed, and sunlight streamed through the branches, like scattered gold. In the center of the settlement stood a ten-foot tall statue. It was a woman with no face, a phoenix rising behind her, its feathers shimmering, lifelike.
Nearby was a large stone table, laden with various spiritual fruits. The anxious phoenixes stood behind it, their gazes filled with anticipation, occasionally glancing at Feng Chiyue. These were their most precious fruits.
Feng Chiyue hadn’t intended to pay them any attention, but then she noticed the fruits on the table, and her eye twitched. “Is this all you eat?” she asked. Even the birds in Dong’e Mountain wouldn’t deign to eat these fruits.
Feng Shuo blushed. She knew that there was a significant gap between the Immortal Realm and the lower realms. “You… you…” she stammered.
Before she could finish her sentence, Undefeated, under Ming Jian Su’s command, shot forward, sweeping the plates off the table and onto the grassy ground. Ming Jian Su calmly took out the spiritual fruits grown in Dong’e Mountain from her Qiankun bag. She knew that these phoenixes meant well, but she wouldn’t let her junior sister suffer through those sour and astringent fruits out of politeness. If they wanted to blame someone, they could blame her. She was the rude and inconsiderate one.
“This Minor Realm’s spiritual energy is nascent, only a thousand years old,” Ming Jian Su said, peeling a fruit for Feng Chiyue, addressing the stunned phoenixes. “Logically, it would take a long time, many trials and errors, for living beings to grasp its Dao and develop cultivation techniques. But your techniques are complete, not as crude as one would expect from a newly born realm.”
“The divine tree carries the Dao,” Feng Shuo replied. “After we hatch, we can find a leaf bearing cultivation techniques on the tree.”
“Where does your hatred for the Heavenly Court come from?” Ming Jian Su asked. “Was it also passed down by your divine tree?”
Feng Shuo nodded solemnly. “We’ve been waiting for our Sovereign to appear and lead us on the path of revenge,” she said. When she mentioned “Sovereign,” all the feathered immortals’ gazes turned to Feng Chiyue. But their Sovereign…
Ming Jian Su frowned, annoyed by those phoenixes. But with their gazes fixed on Feng Chiyue from all directions, she couldn’t subtly block them. Lost in thought, she felt a sharp nip on her finger. Her eyelids twitched, but she continued picking fruits. “May I see it?” she asked, distracted.
Feng Shuo hesitated, glancing at the phoenix leader, Feng Mu. Their Sovereign hadn’t spoken a word since arriving at their settlement. She was leaning lazily against that sword cultivator, their interaction intimate, leaving everything to her companion. Who was that sword cultivator? How annoying. Feng Mu hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “You may,” she said.
Ming Jian Su nodded, a smile appearing on her face. “Thank you,” she said. Her junior sister wanted to return to Dong’e Mountain, so she had to hurry. It would be best to finish everything today.
“Elder Sister,” a soft, muffled voice whispered in her ear. Ming Jian Su immediately responded.
Feng Chiyue yawned, her eyes glistening with tears, like mist over a river.
“We’ve prepared accommodations for you,” Feng Shuo said quickly.
Ming Jian Su glanced at her, thinking, “They’re quick. These phoenixes definitely have ulterior motives.”
She helped Feng Chiyue up, but after a few steps, she simply scooped her up and, following the phoenix leading the way, flew towards the highest cage-house. It looked small, but its interior was spacious, comparable to her Dharma Hall in Dong’e Mountain. Ming Jian Su waved her hand, nudging the incense burner, and flicked her finger, sending an incense pellet into its golden depths. She walked past the landscape screen and placed the drowsy Feng Chiyue on the bed.
“Your accommodations are…” The phoenix followed her inside and, seeing her sit down, started to speak, but before she could finish her sentence, she was silenced by Ming Jian Su’s icy glare. She retreated from the room, trembling. As soon as she left, Ming Jian Su cast several spells, blocking any potential surveillance.
“We can’t even use the Chaos Mirror in this Minor Realm,” Feng Chiyue said listlessly, her hand resting on Ming Jian Su’s arm.
“We’ll go back soon after we’ve gathered some information,” Ming Jian Su said, trying to soothe her.
Feng Chiyue hummed and, pulling Ming Jian Su down, lay beside her. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, her voice low. “There’s something unusual about this place.”
Ming Jian Su nodded, then, remembering something, said softly, “Junior Sister, let me into your Sea of Consciousness.”
A strange look flashed in Feng Chiyue’s eyes. She smiled. “Elder Sister, we’re in someone else’s home,” she said.
Ming Jian Su’s face flushed. She opened her mouth to explain, but Feng Chiyue had already rolled over, lying flat on her back, her gaze inviting, her lips moving silently, forming the words “Come on.” Her blush deepened. She had important matters to attend to. But hearing her junior sister’s words, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire. “I…”
“Oh, come on,” Feng Chiyue said, covering her lips with her hand. “You wouldn’t say a word when I wanted you to, and now you have so much to say?”
Ming Jian Su glared at her, but her gaze lacked any real threat. She decided to abandon any further explanations and, dividing her consciousness, entered Feng Chiyue’s Sea of Consciousness.
Having done this many times, she navigated it with ease. The remnants of the elixir’s poison had been completely eradicated, and she felt a surge of relief. But then, she noticed a new cluster of light, faint tendrils of brilliance leaking out, forming fleeting images. The junior sister within those images was both familiar and unfamiliar. She was clad in white robes with golden trims, standing on a hilltop, her sash billowing in the wind, her figure ethereal and aloof. Ming Jian Su easily recognized her identity: her junior sister before Nirvana.
This cluster of light contained the memories her junior sister had discarded, now stirred by external forces, resurfacing in her Sea of Consciousness, threatening to reawaken past love, hatred, and pain. Ming Jian Su’s first instinct was to erase them, but then she heard a whisper, “Elder Sister,” spoken with affection, and she dismissed the thought. Her junior sister could choose to forget, to abandon the past, but she wouldn’t forcefully erase it.
“I don’t want to see them. I’ve already sealed them,” Feng Chiyue said. She had clearly also seen those “memories.” Her consciousness, transformed into a small bird, perched on Ming Jian Su’s shoulder, covering its eyes with its wings, as if trying to hide. After a moment, she said, “Elder Sister, will you look for me?”
Ming Jian Su had heard about the Phoenix Sovereign’s past. Even the thought of that betrayal made her tremble. She struggled to maintain her composure. But no matter how hard she tried, her heart was in turmoil. She opened her mouth, a thousand words forming on her tongue, but all she could manage was a single word. “Alright.”
Even though she was also afraid to witness that cruel scene.
The moment she touched the cluster of light, she was engulfed by memories of a bygone era.
That war, lasting fifty years, had been instigated by the Heavenly Emperor himself. The battles had been fierce from the start.
Battles between immortals could drag on for ages or end in an instant. On the battlefield, there was no such thing as a fair fight. Any advantage was a valuable asset. This made battles swift and brutal. Even Star Monarchs, if surrounded by several peers, could only perish if they lacked overwhelming strength. Witnessing the deaths of their comrades, those immortals who had once been content with a life of ease and pleasure had wavered.
Within Danxue Mountain, the arguments between the Five Phoenixes and Three Feathered Birds had never ceased.
Especially after Ming Ji had proposed a vile bargain in exchange for peace.
It had been the Heavenly Emperor’s fault, but in the end, it wasn’t him who had to bear the consequences.
Ming Jian Su had once thought that those from Phoenix Mountain were simply incompetent, unable to protect their Sovereign. But now she realized that they had also been traitors, deluding themselves with their “repentance”! Or perhaps they had simply remained silent, but in those circumstances, silence was a form of violence. The feathered immortals who were supposed to be the Phoenix Sovereign’s personal guards had turned against her, and their safe haven had become a prison. They had all united for a single purpose: to force the Phoenix Sovereign to her death for their own survival.
For the sake of the “greater good,” some sacrifices were necessary.
The Phoenix Sovereign’s death was a death. Weren’t the deaths of those who had perished on the battlefield also deaths?
Why couldn’t she sacrifice herself for the greater good? Why was she considered above them?
Those who survived convinced themselves and their companions with these justifications, gradually accepting her death as a necessity.
The vile Heavenly Emperor had even given a grand speech, claiming that the Immortal Realm would forever remember her noble sacrifice.
What bullshit!
Ming Jian Su, within the memories, trembled with rage, her eyes filled with malice. But she could only watch helplessly as the heartbroken Phoenix Sovereign, her spirit broken, fell into the Demon Abyss, becoming Ming Ji’s prisoner.
Unable to control her, Ming Ji had imprisoned her in the Cold Prison.
Under a perpetually gloomy sky, the land was covered in ice and snow, and countless storms, like sharp swords, pierced her body.
Blood dripped from her wounds, transforming into inextinguishable flames, gradually turning the Cold Prison into a sea of fire.
The Phoenix Sovereign sat motionless in the Cold Prison.
Her eyes were downcast, her figure like a white jade statue.
Blood and vitality flowed from her, and during her two hundred years of imprisonment, she had done only one thing: using her magic power, she had summoned a Minor Realm, infused it with her Dao, and nurtured its nascent Heavenly Dao with her own life force. If no one had intruded upon the Cold Prison, she might have continued indefinitely.
Ming Jian Su couldn’t see the face of the person who had suddenly entered, but she sensed a familiar, chilling sword intent.
The raging wind seemed to stop, and the world fell silent.
“You’re injured,” the Phoenix Sovereign said calmly.
“I’m sorry. I’m late,” the newcomer replied, their voice choked with emotion.
“Do me one last favor,” the Phoenix Sovereign said. “Send all my souls into the Minor Realm, initiate reincarnation, and let them be reborn.”
“Your… your life force… Nir… Nirvana…” The words were fragmented and unclear. Ming Jian Su tried to decipher them, but she could only grasp a few key words from those blurry memory fragments.
The Phoenix Sovereign chuckled.
Across a thousand years, Ming Jian Su saw her radiant smile, a smile that could eclipse the heavens and earth.
The coldness that had enveloped her during her two hundred years of imprisonment melted away like ice and snow, but a wave of sorrow washed over Ming Jian Su.
“Alright,” the newcomer said softly.
The moment those souls descended into the lower realms, a sword beam, like a shooting star, fell from the sky.
Only a faint sword shadow remained in the Cold Prison. Ming Jian Su vaguely saw the inscription on its surface: Reincarnation.
She followed the newcomer, watching as they carried the dying Phoenix Sovereign to a place she knew all too well – the Abyss of the Milky Way.
The Milky Way was a segment of the Sui River within the Immortal Realm. Pure energy formed immortals, while turbid energy formed demons, but the Sui River, separating the two realms, contained the purest primordial energy, before its division into yin and yang.
The newcomer hid the Phoenix Sovereign in the Abyss of the Milky Way, using the energy of both realms to nourish her life force and soul, helping her to undergo Nirvana, a process she could no longer initiate due to her depleted vitality.
“Wait for me,” the newcomer said, kissing her forehead. Then, they turned and left.
Ming Jian Su knew they hadn’t returned, because hundreds of years later, she had ascended to the Immortal Realm, stumbled into the Abyss of the Milky Way, and brought out the Phoenix Sovereign after her Nirvana – her junior sister.
Who was that person? Was it Suxin Jianzhu? She had been the only one from the Immortal Realm to enter the Demon Abyss. Ming Jian Su couldn’t think of anyone else.
Was it a coincidence that she had encountered Suxin Jianzhu’s swords later? Were those swords carrying out her will, protecting her junior sister?
Ming Jian Su had no time to dwell on Suxin Jianzhu’s place in the Phoenix Sovereign’s heart. She hadn’t finished watching those fragmented memories, but she didn’t dare to continue.
She now knew the origin of this Minor Realm. She had her answer.
But her mind could barely process it. A single thought consumed her:
Suxin Jianzhu had been late, had broken her promise. And she, Ming Jian Su, hadn’t been there when her junior sister needed help the most.
Why had she come so late?
Her consciousness retreated from Feng Chiyue’s Sea of Consciousness. She lay on the bed, tears streaming down her face silently.
Feng Chiyue also came to her senses. She looked at Ming Jian Su, but the smile that had been forming on her lips vanished. She had seen Ming Jian Su cry before, but those had been tears of joy, brought on by pleasure. She had never seen her cry so sorrowfully, so heart-wrenchingly.
Her own heart ached at the sight.
“Elder Sister?” she asked, her voice filled with panic.
Ming Jian Su embraced her tightly. “Why didn’t I meet you sooner?”
If she had been there, she wouldn’t have let her junior sister suffer so much.
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