237: Chapter 237 Conversations with Parents

The moment the black crystal merged into his body, Shen Zhao felt his consciousness split into two halves.

One half remained within the gate, sitting cross-legged in the grayish-white Void Realm, guarding those two ceaselessly pulsing spots of light.

The other half, following the power of the realm-breaking stone, plunged into an incomparably deep dark space.

In that space, there was no light, no sound, and nothing that could be perceived.

There was only endless void and boundless silence.

Along with countless tiny fragments of memories floating like fireflies.

Shen Zhao's consciousness wandered among them for I know not how long—perhaps a moment, perhaps eternity.

Then, he "saw" the first memory fragment.

That was the sword of his father, Shen Tianxing.

A cyan longsword, its blade engraved with fine patterns, a sword tassel tied at the hilt.

The sword tassel was white and had already faded somewhat, clearly having been used for many years.

He "saw" his father holding that sword, standing in the Martial Arts Arena of the Guardian Academy, facing one hundred opponents.

One hundred elite Disciple of the Guardian Academy, with the lowest cultivation being at the Late Stage Golden Core.

His father swept across with a single sword, the sword light like a rainbow, and a hundred people retreated simultaneously.

Shen Zhao was stunned.

He had never seen his father make a Move.

His uncle had said that his father's swordsmanship was very good, a Genius of the Guardian Academy.

But the word "Genius" was too abstract; only at this moment did he truly understand.

That sword strike was not just fast, not just fierce, but carried an indescribable Concept.

It was as if sword and man had merged into one, the sword was the man, and the man was the sword.

He thought of the Green Lotus Sword Intent of the progenitor Bai Yunzhou—pure, noble, untainted by dust.

His father's Sword Intent was different.

It was sharper, more domineering, carrying a kind of indomitable resolution.

Just like his name—Tianxing.

As heaven maintains its vigor through movement, a gentleman should strive unceasingly.

Shen Zhao's consciousness approached that memory fragment, wanting to see more clearly.

The fragment lit up, then exploded, transforming into countless tiny specks of light that enveloped him.

More memories surged over.

He "saw" what his father looked like in his youth.

Early twenties, delicate features, sharp gaze, wearing the green robes of a Guardian Academy Disciple.

Long hair tied behind his head, that cyan longsword hanging at his waist, the sword tassel gently fluttering in the wind.

His father stood before the Scripture Pavilion, holding a Jade Slip in his hands, brows tightly locked, seemingly pondering some profound question.

Shen Zhao wanted to approach, wanted to call out "Father", but his consciousness was merely a wisp of a wandering soul, unable to touch anything.

He could only "see" and only "hear".

He "heard" his father's voice.

It was a gentle yet firm voice, carrying a trace of imperceptible laughter.

"Ruoxue, you won't understand this Jade Slip. Formations and the Dao of the Sword are not the same thing."

In the vision, another figure walked over.

That was a young woman wearing a long white dress, her long hair draped over her shoulders.

She also held a Jade Slip in her hand. Hearing Shen Tianxing's words, she raised her head, the corners of her lips curving slightly upward.

"Senior Brother Shen, are you questioning my attainments in the Dao of Formations?"

Shen Zhao's heart leaped violently.

Mother.

Young Mother.

Lin Ruoxue.

Her features were gentle, her gaze clear, and a hint of playful smile lingered at the corners of her lips.

Like someone stepping out of a painting.

Shen Tianxing was made somewhat embarrassed by her gaze and quickly explained: "No, I don't mean that."

"I only meant... Formations and the Dao of the Sword are different... You can't understand my Jade Slip, and I can't understand yours..."

Lin Ruoxue laughed, her laughter as crisp as silver bells.

"Senior Brother Shen, you speak so amusingly."

"If you don't understand, just learn. You teach me the Dao of the Sword, and I'll teach you Formations, wouldn't that work?"

Shen Tianxing was stunned for a moment, then also laughed.

"Alright. It's a deal."

The moment the two Jade Slips were exchanged, two pairs of fingers lightly brushed against each other.

Shen Tianxing's earlobes turned red.

Lin Ruoxue's face turned red as well.

Shen Zhao watched this scene, the corners of his lips curving up slightly.

This was the beginning of his father and mother.

It was not a grand and stirring encounter, nor vows of life and death.

Just a Jade Slip, a touch, a blush.

He remembered what his uncle had said— "Not fighting doesn't make acquaintances. They fought for an hour, tied in the end. Then Shen Tianxing conceded defeat."

As it turned out, conceding defeat wasn't because he couldn't win.

But because he couldn't bear to.

Shen Zhao's consciousness immersed in those memory fragments, "seeing" them one piece after another.

He "saw" his father and mother Cultivate together.

Father taught Mother swordsmanship, and Mother taught Father Formations.

Father's swordsmanship was sharp, and Mother's Formations were exquisite.

The two cooperated seamlessly.

He "saw" Father confessing his feelings to Mother for the first time.

Standing in front of the Monument of Heroes, holding a bouquet of spiritual flowers from Qingmang Mountain.

"Ruoxue, I like you."

Mother lowered her head, her voice very soft: "I know."

"Then... are you willing to be together with me?"

Mother raised her head, her eyes filled with smiles.

"Aren't we already together?"

Father's earlobes turned red again.

Mother's laughter was as crisp as silver bells.

Shen Zhao's tears silently fell in the darkness.

Love could actually be this simple.

It didn't need flowery words or grand, stirring vows.

It only needed a Jade Slip, a bouquet of spiritual flowers, and the phrase "I like you".

He "saw" the wedding of his father and mother in the Guardian Academy.

That was the grandest wedding of the 473rd generation of the Guardian Academy.

All twelve hundred Disciples were present, and even several Elders who had been in closed-door cultivation for many years came out of seclusion.

Shen Yuan stood beside Father as the best man.

He was very young back then, his hair pitch-black and his gaze clear.

Shen Zhao looked at his uncle's appearance in his youth, and a nameless ache welled up in his heart.

His uncle never married in his life, placing all his energy into the Guardian Academy and the Sea of Stars.

And placing it on him, this nephew.

He "saw" what Mother looked like when she was pregnant.

Her belly was huge, yet she still insisted on teaching classes at the Array Hall.

Father picked her up and dropped her off every day, supporting her carefully for fear that she might fall.

Mother said: "It's not like I can't walk, why are you following me around all day?"

Father said: "I'm worried."

Mother laughed: "What is there to worry about? It's not my first time being pregnant."

Father said: "Every time, I worry."

Mother's eye sockets turned red, and she turned her head away so he wouldn't see.

Shen Zhao watched this scene, the ache in his heart growing thicker.

His parents loved each other so deeply and cherished each other so much.

They should have watched their child grow up together, grown old together, and sat together before the Monument of Heroes to watch the sunset.

But they didn't.

They went to the Abyss and died at the hands of the Abyss Clan.

Their Origin was trapped within the gate for twenty years, waiting for him to save them.

He didn't blame them.

Because they went to the Abyss for his sake.

They wanted to find a safe home for him in the New Universe.

They wanted him to live on.

This was what parents were.

No matter how difficult or dangerous it was, as long as their child could survive, they were willing to do it.

Shen Zhao's consciousness continued to wander, "seeing" more memory fragments.

He "saw" the day he was born.

Father stood outside the delivery room, pacing back and forth, his palms full of sweat.

Shen Yuan stood to the side, smiling as he said: "Brother, stop pacing, my eyes are getting dizzy."

Father stopped his steps, looking at his younger brother, his voice trembling slightly.

"Yuan Di, you say... who do you think it's better for the child to resemble?"

Shen Yuan thought for a moment: "Resemble Brother, Brother is handsome."

Father shook his head: "No, it's better to resemble Ruoxue. Ruoxue is good-looking."

Shen Yuan laughed: "Both are good-looking."

The crying of an infant came from inside the delivery room, loud and powerful.

Father rushed in.

Mother was holding the infant, her complexion pale, but her eyes filled with brilliance.

"Tianxing, it's a boy. He looks like you."

Father looked at that wrinkled little face, and tears flowed down.

"Ruoxue, thank you."

Shen Zhao watched this scene, tears blurring his eyes.

That was him.

Wrinkled, tiny, knowing only how to cry—him.

He also "saw" what he looked like when he was little.

At three years old, he learned to walk and ran amok all over the house, with Mother chasing after him.

At five years old, he secretly took his father's sword and gestured with it in the courtyard, almost hurting himself.

Father picked him up, putting on a stern face to scold: "You are not allowed to mess with my sword!"

He was so frightened he didn't dare speak, tears spinning in his eye sockets.

Father sighed, his tone softening: "When you grow up, Father will teach you swordsmanship."

He broke into a smile through his tears: "Really?"

"Really."

At seven years old, he followed Mother to learn Formations, unable to remember even the simplest runes.

Mother didn't get angry, only patiently teaching him over and over again.

"Zhao'er, don't rush. Take it slow, you will eventually remember them."

He remembered them.

He remembered every single rune, every array base, every energy circuit.

Not because he was smart, but because Mother taught well.

At nine years old, he followed Father to learn swordsmanship.

Father taught starting from the most basic sword Moves, every single Move and style meticulously executed.

He learned very seriously, but always failed to grasp the essentials.

Father said: "Swordsmanship does not lie in Moves, but in Concept."

"You must feel the weight of the sword, feel the breath of the sword, feel the will of the sword."

He didn't understand, but he remembered.

Later when he grew up, he Cultivate alone and fought alone.

Every time he gripped the sword, he would recall his father's words.

Feel the weight of the sword, feel the breath of the sword, feel the will of the sword.

At ten years old, he ran into the Forbidden Ground of the Guardian Academy.

There was an ancient stone tablet there, engraved densely with runes.

He sat before the tablet, foolishly smiling at those runes.

Mother looked for him for three days and three nights, crying anxiously.

When Father found him, he was touching the runes on the stone tablet, muttering under his breath.

"Zhao'er, what are you doing?"

"Father, these runes can speak."

Father was stunned, squatting down to carefully look at those runes.

That was a remnant fragment of an ancient Sealing Formation, which even the Elders of the Array Hall couldn't understand.

Yet his son, only ten years old, said they could speak.

He didn't know whether his son truly understood them or was just talking nonsense.

But he didn't press further, only picking up his son and saying softly.

"Zhao'er, you are not allowed to run around randomly from now on. Your mother is very worried."

Shen Zhao's consciousness trembled slightly in the darkness.

He remembered that day.

He sat before the tablet for a long time, feeling as though those runes were smiling at him.

He didn't know what that was at the time, only feeling a sense of familiarity.

Later he came to know that it was the aura of the Universe Origin fragments.

His affinity with the Universe Origin had begun at the age of ten.

He "saw" himself at eleven years old.

That year, on the night before his parents were to go to the Abyss.

Father called him into the study, holding that green lotus jade talisman in his hand.

"Zhao'er, Father is going on a distant trip tomorrow. At home, listen to your uncle and Cultivate well."

"Where is Father going?"

"A very distant place. But Father will come back."

Father handed the green lotus jade talisman to him.

"This is a protective talisman left behind by the progenitor. Carry it with you, and it will bless you."

He accepted the jade talisman, feeling a warm surge of energy.

"Father, you must come back."

Father patted his head and smiled.

"Definitely."

That was the last time he saw his father.

Early the next morning, his parents left Yongning City.

He stood on the Star Port, watching their star skiff travel further and further away, finally vanishing into the horizon.

He waited for one year, two years, three years.

He did not wait for them to return.

What he waited for was the swaddling clothes his uncle carried back from the battlefield.

His uncle said: "Zhao'er, your father... your mother... they can't come back."

He didn't believe it.

He waited for twenty years.

Finally, within the gate, he waited for their Origin.

Although they were merely two spots of light, although they still couldn't speak or walk.

But they were here.

In the palm of his hand.

Shen Zhao's consciousness withdrew from the memory fragments, returning to the void within the gate.

He opened his eyes, discovering that his face was covered in tears.

Looking down at the two spots of light in his palm, he said softly.

"Father, Mother, this Disciple has seen you."

"I saw what you looked like in your youth, saw you meet, fall in love, and stay together."

"I saw your joy when this Disciple was born."

"I saw your care and protection as this Disciple grew up."

"And I saw this Disciple's waiting when you left."

The spots of light pulsed gently, as if responding to him.

Shen Zhao wiped away his tears and smiled.

"Twenty years of waiting was worth it."

He closed his eyes, continuing to nurture his parents' Origin with the seven-colored power.

The spots of light grew brighter and brighter, and the frequency of their pulsing also became faster and faster.

He could sense that his parents' consciousness was awakening.

Perhaps before long, they would be able to speak their first words to him.

Time within the gate continued to flow.

Every day he would converse with his parents, telling his own stories, his uncle's stories, and the stories of the Sea of Stars.

He spoke of the Martial Arts Arena of the Guardian Academy, the names on the Monument of Heroes, and the morning bell of Yongning City.

He spoke of the Investigation Department of Director Su Yun, the protective talismans of the three chief Elders, and Shen Nian—that little Disciple of the new Guardian Academy.

He spoke a lot, very much.

The spots of light pulsed continuously, as if listening and responding.

On this day, as Shen Zhao was comprehending the runes of the gate, a communication talisman suddenly lit up.

Director Su Yun's voice came through, carrying a trace of urgency.

"Shen Zhao, your uncle... wants to speak with you."

Shen Zhao's hand paused slightly.

"Alright."

From across the communication talisman came Shen Yuan's hoarse voice.

"Zhao'er."

Shen Zhao's eye sockets turned red.

"Uncle, this Disciple is here."

Shen Yuan laughed, his laughter very soft, as light as the wind blowing past withered branches.

"Are you doing well within the gate?"

Shen Zhao wiped away his tears, striving to make his voice sound a bit calmer.

"This Disciple is doing very well. Uncle, how about you?"

Shen Yuan was silent for a moment.

"Uncle is also doing fine. It's just that I miss you a bit."

Shen Zhao's tears gushed out once more.

"Uncle, this Disciple will return very soon."

Shen Yuan laughed.

"Uncle will wait for you."

"Zhao'er, Uncle has something to tell you."

"What matter?"

Shen Yuan was silent for a very long time.

"How is your mother's Origin doing?"

Shen Zhao lowered his head to look at the white spot of light in his palm.

"This Disciple is nurturing it. It will still take some time before her Physical Body can condense."

Shen Yuan gave an acknowledging hum.

"Ruoxue she... is most afraid of the cold. Transmit a bit more Life Power to her."

Shen Zhao was slightly stunned.

Mother was afraid of the cold?

He had never heard his uncle mention this before.

"Uncle, this Disciple will remember it."

Shen Yuan coughed a few more times.

"That stubborn temper of your father's, don't learn from him. Discuss things with others more often, don't shoulder everything by yourself."

Shen Zhao nodded: "This Disciple remembers."

Shen Yuan's voice grew lower and lower.

"Zhao'er, Uncle is tired. Uncle is going to rest."

"Take care."

The communication talisman dimmed down.

Shen Zhao knelt in the void, not moving for a long time.

The two spots of light in his palm pulsed gently, as if comforting him.

He lowered his head, looking at that white spot of light belonging to his mother.

"Mother, you are afraid of the cold."

"This Disciple will transmit more Life Power to you."

The white spot of light lit up once, as if nodding.

Shen Zhao smiled, closed his eyes, and continuously injected Life Power into it.

The years within the gate continued on.

But within his heart, there was even more power.

That was the power of his parents, the power of his uncle, the power of all those who believed in him, cherished him, and supported him.

He was not alone.

He had them.

That was enough.