The Tianhai Divine Empress's soul was tens of thousands of li away, her Daoist techniques in Luoyang, her body amidst the thunderclouds, fighting one against three, three Saints.
What remained at the peak of the Mausoleum of Books was her real body.
Even if she was the strongest person in the world, it could be believed that if she were to simultaneously fight against three Saints, she would not be able to spare any strength to deal with other foes.
To put it another way, at the peak of the Mausoleum of Books, she was in a defenseless state. As long as someone could attack her body, they could injure her.
Tonight, many experts had come to the Mausoleum of Books.
They had not yet entered the Divine Domain. In normal times, they could not pose any threat to the Tianhai Divine Empress, but now was different.
Of course, they first had to pass through the Divine Path and reach the peak of the Mausoleum of Books.
But Han Qing sat at the base of the Divine Path, just as he had for the past six hundred years.
Han Qing was very old.
He was a Divine General of the same generation as Qin Zhong and Yu Gong. He had sat in the Mausoleum of Books for more than six hundred years, his body covered in dust and covered in rust. Could he still stand against the encirclement of these experts?
This was a question worth considering, but it was clear that he was not thinking about it, because he was eating.
Green peppers stir-fried with cured meat were all produced in that garden. He quietly and earnestly ate, perhaps thinking of Xun Mei from two years ago who had walked up the Divine Path.
Based on what he had said earlier, it was precisely Xun Mei's attempt at the Divine Path that night, seeking the truth, that made him finally let go of everything and break into the Divine. Then, was this food a reminiscence?
No, this reminiscence should have fallen even further into the past, because that elderly face was filled with even deeper sorrow.
Experts of the world had gathered, yet he was quietly eating. Did this sort of disregard represent absolute confidence or something else?
Two years ago, when Xun Mei stepped onto the Divine Path to meet his death, Mao Qiuyu was outside the Mausoleum of Books. He personally watched his junior brother die, but he showed no emotion.
The girl called Mu Jiushi, on the other hand, revealed a hint of anger. As for those hidden experts of the noble clans and sects that had appeared in the darkness, they also began to grow angry.
The Qi of those experts, suffused with anger, gathered at the end of the Divine Path.
Han Qing did not react. He still calmly and silently ate, as if those already cold dishes were the most precious things in the world.
In the river outside the Mausoleum of Books, the stone monoliths had been broken into several pieces and scattered on the ground.
Wuqiong Bi stood between the broken monoliths, the hatred on her face gradually transforming into wariness and unease, ultimately into fear.
Of the Storms of the Eight Directions that had come to the Mausoleum of Books tonight, Zhu Luo and Guan Xingke were already dead and Bie Yanghong was heavily injured. Only she still had a complete battle strength.
At that moment, because of her husband's heavy injuries, she was indeed furious to the extreme and wanted to attack. Even though Han Qing had displayed unfathomable strength, with the help of those strong cultivators in the darkness, she believed that she could defeat him. However … no matter how bitter and cold her gaze was, Han Qing did not even spare her a glance.
Han Qing ate quietly.
The iron spear lay quietly beside him.
Therefore, she began to fear.
"Help me up."
Bie Yanghong lay amidst the broken monoliths, his face extremely pale and his Qi extremely weak. However, his voice was still as calm as usual, imbued with a power that could make one's heart tremble.
He gazed up at the peak of the Mausoleum of Books, his gaze resting on the Tianhai Divine Empress's figure, tinged with confusion and pain.
On the Tianhai Divine Empress's sleeve was a slightly wet red petal. On her sleeve were ten-some holes that had been pierced by a meteor.
He had been one of the participants in that bitter battle. He clearly understood that this was Guan Xingke's death and his own heavy injuries as a reward for the Tianhai Divine Empress.
He also noticed another problem.
Wuqiong Bi helped him up, the horsetail whisk in her hand trembling, just like her voice. "Let's go."
"Since I came here tonight, I did not think that I would leave alive."
Bie Yanghong calmly said, and then his finger trembled.
The string hanging from his pinkie finger hissed through the air, passing through the mouth between his thumb and forefinger and coiling around it several times.
His body was so heavily injured that he could not even clench his fist. Thus, he twisted his fingers together, forming a fist.
He punched the dried-up riverbed.
There was a loud bang.
This seemingly powerless fist punched a massive hole in the riverbed, so deep that the bottom could not be seen. Beneath it, one could faintly hear the gurgling of water.
The Imperial Design moved, the river dried up, and the stones appeared. The Imperial Design was now broken, its awe-inspiring array intent gone, no longer able to maintain the current scene.
With the gurgling of water, countless springs surged up from the riverbed. In an instant, they submerged the riverbed once more, soaking his and Wuqiong Bi's shoes.
Wuqiong Bi knew what he wanted to do. Her face paled even more, but she could not say anything to stop him.
The springs surged and the water level of the river rose at a visible rate. Accompanied by thunder and lightning high up in the sky, the scene seemed extremely bizarre.
A shrill cry of despair burst from Wuqiong Bi's lips.
She and Bie Yanghong stood on the surface of the water, two streams of Qi spreading out, instantly enveloping the entire river.
The Qi exuded from her body was still and silent, like a blue wave devoid of life.
Yet the Qi exuded from Bie Yanghong's body was incomparably fresh, like a boundless vitality.
The river water finally overflowed the stone embankment and flowed back into the Mausoleum of Books, slowly but inexorably surging towards the Divine Path.
As the waves flowed, green leaves gradually sprouted. In a few seconds, they densely covered the entire surface of the water, a boundless sea of lotuses.
Soon after, this sea of lotuses gave birth to countless beautiful lotus flowers.
The lotus sea swayed in the night wind, the lotus flowers dazzling in the lightning.
Lotus leaves that received the Heavens, Wuqiong Bi.
Lotus flowers that reflected the sun, Bie Yanghong.
Water was everywhere in the Mausoleum of Books.
Mao Qiuyu stood on one side of the water, his expression solemn and respectful, his two sleeves dancing in the wind.
His two sleeves were like a cool breeze, passing through the world.
Lotus leaves incessantly flew, lotus flowers lightly swayed, lightning illuminated the world, the moisture condensed into mist, creating an extremely unreal and beautiful scene, like a fairyland.
The fairyland had arrived before the Divine Path.
Han Qing was still eating, eating with extreme seriousness.
Cooking was a matter of the human world, and he was going from the Mausoleum of Books to the human world.
Bie Yanghong wanted him to return to that fairyland where he paid no attention to the affairs of the world. He had no intention of preventing the people of the world from stepping onto the Divine Path.
The sky full of lotus leaves and lotus flowers attacked his Dao heart.
What would Han Qing choose?
Finally, he put down the lunchbox in his hand.
It was not because he could not deal with Bie Yanghong's challenge, but because he had finished eating.
He gripped his spear and gazed into the depths of the lotus sea.
Bie Yanghong was in the depths of the lotus sea, his body covered in blood, his face pale, but very calm.
He wanted to kill Tianhai, the people of the world wanted to kill Tianhai, so they had to ascend the Divine Path.
He was currently burning his true essence and cultivation. Even if he could defeat Han Qing, he would probably not be able to continue living.
He did not care, because he had always been walking to his death.
The path of death was his path. This was his righteous path.
Walking according to the Dao, he would naturally not get lost in the lotus sea, would naturally not shrink back. His blood-covered body was so bright in the darkness, like those red flowers among the green leaves.
But he did not strike. He was waiting for the final opportunity.
He was waiting by the stream near Xining Village's old temple, waiting for the old monastery in Luoyang, waiting for the dark clouds above the earth to disperse.
He raised his head and calmly gazed at the dark clouds.
Everyone looked in that direction.
Thunder roared without end, lightning connected, the dark clouds twisted, the winds howled.
That place was not the human world.
… …
… …
(In these last two days, I should have been in Saipan … the annual meeting is being held, and many of my author friends are there watching the sea. I couldn't hold on any longer, so I asked for leave the day before I set off. When I returned home to Hubei, not only did I not get better, it got even worse. This problem of the soil and water requires me to adjust it far too many times a year. Fortunately, I've always been taking medicine, and I'm starting to get better today. In addition, although the Mausoleum of Books is filled with water, it can't be said that my writing is water. My writing is very good … when I was recuperating recently, I reread Nightfall and felt the same way. I'm really not bad. I hope that it will be even better in the future.)
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