238: Chapter 238 Shen Yuan's Illness

After the communication talisman dimmed, Shen Zhao knelt in the Void Realm for a long time.

He lowered his head, looking at the two gently pulsating points of light in his palm, their cyan and white glows intertwining like the hands of a father and mother tightly clasped together.

His father's Origin was cyan, carrying the biting chill of Sword Intent, like an unsheathed longsword.

His mother's Origin was white, carrying the gentle warmth of a Formation, like an unfurled Formation diagram.

Sword and Formation, hardness and softness, were inherently one.

He gently touched the cyan point of light with his fingertips, feeling a warm power surge out from it and flow into his body through his fingertips.

That was his father's power—not spiritual power, nor magical power, but something indescribable.

It felt like a certain belief, yet also like a certain persistence.

Shen Zhao closed his eyes, feeling that power flow within his body.

He "saw" his father's back standing before the Monument of Heroes.

That was many years ago; his father was still young, wearing the cyan robe of a Guardian Academy Disciple, with that cyan longsword hanging at his waist, its tassel gently fluttering in the wind.

He stood before the monument, bowing deeply to the names inscribed upon it.

Some of those names on the monument he recognized, and some he did not.

But every single name was a fallen hero who had sacrificed themselves to protect the starry sea.

Shen Tianxing stood before the monument for a long time, until the setting sun dipped below the horizon and the moon rose.

"I will protect the starry sea," he said softly, his voice very light, yet carrying an unquestionable firmness.

"I will protect the starry sea, protect Ruoxue, and protect Zhaoer."

This was his oath, and also his destiny.

Shen Zhao's tears silently slid down in the darkness.

His father spent his entire Life protecting—protecting the starry sea, protecting his mother, and protecting him.

He protected much, but failed to protect himself.

In the battle of the abyss, he and his mother fell in pools of blood, their Origins taken in by the Spirit of the Gate, trapping them there for twenty years.

He did not regret it.

Because his son was still alive.

Shen Zhao opened his eyes, wiped away his tears, lowered his head to look at the cyan point of light, and then gently pressed it against his chest.

"Father, this Disciple will protect the starry sea for you."

"Protect Mother for you, and protect myself for you."

The cyan point of light flashed once, like his father nodding.

He returned the point of light to his palm and looked at the white point of light.

His mother's Origin.

He reached out to touch it, feeling a cool power surge over, like his mother's hand gently stroking his forehead.

He "saw" what his mother looked like sitting inside the Array Hall.

At that time, she was already the Chief Disciple of the Array Hall, teaching newly entered Disciples how to set up basic defensive Formations.

Her voice was very soft and gentle, like the spring breeze.

"Formations are not lifeless objects; they have Life. You must feel their breathing, their pulsation, and their will."

"The foundation is the skeleton, the Formation patterns are the flesh and blood, and the core is the heart."

"The skeleton must be steady, the flesh and blood must be active, and the heart must be strong."

"Only in this way can a Formation truly protect you."

The young Disciples understood somewhat, but she did not get angry, only explaining it over and over again.

Just like when she taught him Formations back then.

Shen Zhao looked at his mother's figure, an indescribable warmth welling up in his heart.

His mother spent her entire Life imparting knowledge—imparting the Profound Truth of Formations, the concept of protection, and the principles of being a person.

She taught countless outstanding Disciples; some became Elders of the Array Hall, some became Formation Masters of various domains, and some used Formations to block enemy attacks on the battlefield.

She failed to see them grow up or become successful.

But she did not regret it.

Because her son was still alive.

Shen Zhao pressed that white point of light against his chest as well and closed his eyes.

"Mother, this Disciple will teach them Formations for you."

"Protect the Array Hall and the Legacy of the Guardian Academy for you."

The white point of light also flashed once, like his mother smiling.

He sat in the Void Realm for a long time, until the points of light in his palm grew warm.

Then, he took out the communication talisman and injected a wisp of seven-colored power into it.

The communication talisman lit up, and Director Su Yun's voice came through: "Shen Zhao, what is it?"

Shen Zhao fell silent for a moment: "Director Su, how is... my uncle's body actually doing?"

Director Su Yun fell silent as well.

Shen Zhao waited for a long time, so long that he thought the communication talisman was broken.

Then, Director Su Yun's voice came: "Shen Zhao, are you sure you want to hear it?"

"This Disciple is sure."

Director Su Yun took a deep breath and slowly spoke.

"Your uncle's health has been going downhill since three years ago. The Pill Hall Elder said that this is a relapse of old injuries, coupled with his advanced age, causing his Origin to wither."

"When he was young, he followed your father onto the battlefield many times. Every single time he escaped death by a hair's breadth, and every time he left behind hidden injuries."

"Those hidden injuries accumulated over hundreds of years, and now they have all erupted at once."

Shen Zhao's hands were trembling slightly.

Old injuries.

When his father went to the battlefield back then, his uncle went as well.

When his father was injured, his uncle was injured too.

His father died, but his uncle survived.

Yet within his body, he bore the exact same scars as his father.

"The Pill Hall Elder said he can hold on for at most three years," Director Su Yun's voice grew lower and lower, "but looking at his current state... perhaps even shorter."

Shen Zhao knelt in the Void Realm, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white.

Three years.

The flow of time within the gate was slower than the outside world; one year inside the gate was only thirty-six days in the outside world.

But his uncle could not hold on until he returned.

How long had he stayed inside the gate?

He closed his eyes and carefully calculated.

He spent a year touching runes inside the gate, over half a year comprehending time runes, and a few months communicating with his parents' points of light.

Adding the perceived time together, it had been about two years.

Yet in the outside world, only a little over two months had passed.

That meant he still had ten months (perceived time) before he could go out.

Ten months was neither long nor short.

But could his uncle hold on for another ten months?

He did not know.

"Director Su, this Disciple wishes to speak with Uncle."

The communication talisman lit up and dimmed, dimmed and lit up again.

Then, Shen Yuan's voice came through, weaker than last time: "Zhaoer."

Shen Zhao's tears burst from his eyes: "Uncle, this Disciple is here."

Shen Yuan smiled, his laughter very soft, as light as the wind blowing through withered branches: "How much longer will you stay inside the gate?"

Shen Zhao was silent for a moment, answering truthfully: "Ten months. Ten months of perceived time."

The outside world is... about ten days.

Shen Yuan gave a soft acknowledgement: "Ten days is not long. Uncle will wait for you."

Shen Zhao knew his uncle was comforting him, but he did not expose it, only nodding forcefully as if his uncle could see him: "Uncle, you must wait for this Disciple."

Shen Yuan did not answer, only letting out a gentle sigh.

"Zhaoer, Uncle has something to tell you."

"What is it?"

Shen Yuan was silent for a long time, so long that Shen Zhao thought the communication talisman was broken again.

"That Jade Slip your grandfather gave Uncle before his death—Uncle has never been willing to use it."

Shen Zhao was stunned.

That Jade Slip recorded Mo Chen's Origin imprint.

It was something traded with his grandfather's Life, and Uncle had always carried it on his person.

"Uncle, you..."

Shen Yuan interrupted him: "Zhaoer, Uncle is not going to waste it. Uncle is going to use it to investigate something for you."

"What is it?"

"The person behind Mo Chen."

Shen Zhao's hand suddenly froze.

The person behind Mo Chen.

That existence older and more powerful than Mo Chen.

That existence related to the "Beginning".

"Uncle, what have you found out?"

Shen Yuan coughed a few times, his voice growing weaker: "Uncle found out that that person has a stronghold deep within the starry sea. Many secrets are hidden there."

"Perhaps... perhaps there is a method to deal with 'The Designers'."

"Uncle has already sent people to investigate. But that stronghold is very hidden and difficult to find."

Shen Zhao's heart suddenly sank.

Dragging his diseased body, his uncle was still investigating these matters for him.

"Uncle, you must not go. Once this Disciple returns, I will investigate it myself."

Shen Yuan smiled, his laughter carrying a trace of stubbornness: "Zhaoer, Uncle is not yet so old that he cannot walk."

"Just focus on guarding the gate; Uncle will keep an eye on matters outside."

Shen Zhao wanted to persuade him further, but the communication talisman had already dimmed.

Director Su Yun's voice came through for the last time: "Shen Zhao, your uncle... has fallen asleep."

"You should rest early as well."

The communication talisman went completely dark.

Shen Zhao knelt in the Void Realm, holding that Talisman which no longer had any light, remaining motionless for a long time.

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

The cyan point of light pulsed hurriedly, like his father urging: "Stop crying, stand up."

The white point of light pulsed gently, like his mother stroking gently: "Child, be stronger."

Shen Zhao wiped away his tears, took a deep breath, and tucked the communication talisman into his bosom.

Then, he closed his eyes and continued to nourish his parents' Origins.

The seven-colored power surged out from his palm, splitting into two streams—one injected into the cyan point of light, and the other injected into the white point of light.

The cyan point of light grew brighter and brighter, and the white point of light also grew brighter and brighter.

Their pulsation frequency was also growing more and more synchronized.

Like a pair of dancers gracefully dancing in the darkness.

Shen Zhao looked at these two points of light, an unspeakable emotion welling up in his heart.

Father and Mother, even inside the gate, even as mere fragments of Origin, were still so tacitly coordinated.

Their Sword and Formation, hardness and softness, perfectly fused together at this moment.

Just like when they were alive.

Time inside the gate continued to flow.

Every day he would contact Director Su Yun to understand his uncle's condition.

"Your uncle coughed up blood today, but he wouldn't let us tell you."

Director Su Yun's voice was very soft, carrying a choke in her throat.

Shen Zhao clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms: "This Disciple understands."

The next day.

"Your uncle got out of bed today and took a walk around the courtyard. He sat before the Monument of Heroes for a long time, talking to your grandfather."

Shen Zhao's eye rims turned red: "What did he say?"

Director Su Yun was silent for a moment: "He said, 'Father, Zhaoer is doing very well. Please rest assured.'"

Shen Zhao's tears burst from his eyes.

The third day.

"Your uncle's spirits were a bit better today, and he even ate half a bowl of congee. He said he wanted to eat the dishes you cook."

Shen Zhao smiled, but his tears flowed uncontrollably: "This Disciple will go back and cook for him."

The fourth day.

"Your uncle coughed up blood again today, but he wouldn't let the people from the Pill Hall come close. He said he was fine."

Shen Zhao clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms.

The fifth day.

Director Su Yun's voice carried a trace of joy: "Shen Zhao, your uncle was able to sit up today. He also said not to worry."

Shen Zhao nodded, even though Director Su Yun could not see: "This Disciple is not worried."

But he could not fool himself.

He was worried, worried to the extreme.

He feared losing his uncle, feared never again seeing that white-haired old man leaning on a cane.

He feared not hearing his hoarse voice, feared not seeing his trembling figure.

He feared the sight of him sitting before the Monument of Heroes, feared him saying "Zhaoer, Uncle is waiting for you".

He was afraid.

But he could not show it.

Because he was the Guardian, the gatekeeper within the gate, the hope of everyone.

He could not even shed tears—at least not while the communication talisman was lit.

The sixth day, the seventh day, the eighth day.

Every day, Director Su Yun would send news.

Sometimes it was good news—Uncle ate half a bowl more congee today.

Sometimes it was bad news—Uncle coughed up blood again today.

Shen Zhao listened, and could only listen.

He could not return; he could not keep watch by his uncle's bedside.

What he could do was pray inside the gate.

Praying that his uncle could hold on until he returned, praying that his uncle could see the day he completed his mission.

On this day, the communication talisman lit up, and Shen Yuan's voice came through.

This time, his voice was a bit clearer than before, carrying a rare hint of a smile.

"Zhaoer, Uncle went to see the new Guardian Academy today."

Shen Zhao was startled: "Uncle, you... how did you go?"

Shen Yuan smiled: "Director Su Yun sent people to carry me there. Uncle sat in a chair, watching those children practice swordplay."

"They practice very well. Better than you did back then."

Shen Zhao smiled: "This Disciple didn't practice properly back then."

"You did practice properly," Shen Yuan's voice was very soft, "you were just too anxious, afraid that you weren't strong enough, afraid you couldn't protect the starry sea."

"But you didn't know, you were already very strong. Not strength in power, but strength in your Dao Heart."

"The thing Uncle is most proud of in this Life is not becoming the Guardian Patriarch, but raising you up."

Shen Zhao's tears silently slid down.

"Uncle..."

Shen Yuan interrupted him: "Don't cry. Uncle is not dead yet."

Shen Zhao smiled, but his tears would not stop.

Shen Yuan continued speaking, his voice growing lighter and lighter.

"Zhaoer, Uncle has something to tell you."

"What is it?"

Shen Yuan was silent for a long time.

"Before your grandfather passed away, he also told Uncle one more thing."

"Mo Chen's Shadow Society is not just his individual force. There is someone behind him."

Shen Zhao's hand paused slightly: "This Disciple knows. That person is related to the 'Beginning'."

Shen Yuan gave a soft acknowledgement: "Not just related to the 'Beginning'. That person... is the other half of the 'Beginning's consciousness."

Shen Zhao's hands were trembling slightly.

He had already seen that figure inside the gate.

A black figure with crimson eyes, standing behind the "Beginning".

That was the other half of the Beginning's consciousness.

"Uncle, this Disciple has seen him."

Shen Yuan's voice carried a trace of surprise: "You've seen him?"

"Seen him. Inside the gate, at the end of time."

"He gave this Disciple the realm-breaking stone. He said he wants to save everything, not destroy everything."

Shen Yuan was silent for a long time.

"Zhaoer, do you believe him?"

Shen Zhao thought for a moment and answered honestly: "This Disciple does not know. But he has not harmed this Disciple."

Shen Yuan sighed: "Be careful. That person is even more dangerous than Mo Chen."

Shen Zhao nodded: "This Disciple will remember."

Shen Yuan's voice grew weaker and weaker.

"Zhaoer, Uncle is tired. Uncle is going to rest."

"Take care."

The communication talisman dimmed.

Shen Zhao knelt in the Void Realm, remaining motionless for a long time.

The two points of light in his palm pulsed gently, their cyan and white glows intertwining.

He lowered his head, looking at the two points of light, and said softly.

"Father, Mother, Uncle is failing. This Disciple cannot return to see him."

"This Disciple can only pray for him here."

"Is this Disciple being unfilial?"

The cyan point of light pulsed hurriedly, as if his father were saying: "No."

The white point of light pulsed gently, as if his mother were saying: "You have already done very well."

Shen Zhao's tears gushed out once more, but this time he did not wipe them away.

Let them flow.

No one inside the gate would see.

He was the Guardian, but he was also human.

He would shed tears, feel fear, and experience helplessness.

He was not a god; he was simply a person.

An ordinary person who wanted to stay by his uncle's side, yet could only keep watch inside the gate.

An ordinary person who wanted to save his parents, yet could only nourish their Origins.

An ordinary person who wanted to protect everyone, yet could not even protect his dearest family.

He was tired.

Not physical fatigue, but spiritual fatigue.

But he cannot fall.

Because behind him were tens of billions of common people.

There were his parents, his uncle, Director Su Yun, and the Disciples of the Guardian Academy.

There were countless people who believed in him, supported him, and cherished him.

He took a deep breath and wiped away his tears.

Then, he closed his eyes and continued to nourish his parents' Origins.

The cyan and white points of light pulsed gently in his palm, like two stars.

Illuminating the grayish-white Void Realm, and also illuminating his heart.