620: Chapter 610 Imperial Tutor (10)

"When I was young, I said that Immortals should descend the mountain."

"But I have descended the mountain."

"I have saved people, and I have killed people."

"I have avenged my grievances, only to incur new ones."

"I thought the sword could clear a path, but the further I walked, the more paths there were to take, and the more wrong paths I encountered."

He stopped in front of Qin Yun.

The sound of rain pressed down on the night outside the temple.

"Sir, am I wrong?"

Qin Yun did not answer immediately.

Lu Xingzhou raised his hand, looking at the old scars on his palms.

"I saved a whole city of people."

"But I could not save the person I wanted to save the most."

His voice was very low, yet every word was spoken with great difficulty.

"I drew my sword, but the hatred only grew."

"I killed the wicked, and the kin of the wicked came to kill me."

"I blocked the Demonic Path Sect, but Wanying died on the road home."

"I protected the people of a whole city, but I could not protect her."

He paused here, his voice faltering.

After uttering that name, his whole demeanor dimmed slightly.

Song Wanying.

The physician who would scold him for being reckless while bandaging his wounds.

The person who lit a lamp for him in the medicine hut on rainy nights.

The person who, before she died, still told him to keep moving forward.

Lu Xingzhou closed his eyes.

"Sir."

"If Immortals are heartless, why cultivate?"

"If Immortals have feelings, why stand by and watch people die?"

The dilapidated temple became even quieter.

A small child wanted to speak, but was pulled back by the child beside him.

Qin Yun put down the book in his hand.

"Do you want me to tell you that the sword can save everyone?"

Lu Xingzhou shook his head.

"I know it cannot."

"But if I cannot save everyone, and cannot save the one I want to save the most, then what does this journey of mine actually amount to?"

Qin Yun looked at him.

"The sword is not for ending life and death."

"Nor is it for ending hatred."

Lu Xingzhou looked up.

Qin Yun pointed to the rain outside the temple.

"When the rain falls, you cannot block the entire sky."

"But you can hold an umbrella for a child."

"You cannot block all evil."

"But the moment you draw your sword, at least someone sees that evil is not impossible to cut down."

"You cannot save everyone."

"But every time you draw your sword, you let some people see the hope that they can survive."

Lu Xingzhou stood where he was, his fingers slowly clenching tight.

Qin Yun continued, "You think you are protecting the outcome."

"So when Song Wanying died, you felt you had lost."

"But you never protected just the outcome."

"You protected a principle."

"There are people in this world willing to draw their swords for the weak."

"There are people willing to offer half a bowl of porridge in the wind and snow."

"There are people willing to go save others, even knowing they cannot save everyone."

Lu Xingzhou's eyes turned red.

Qin Yun looked at the character for 'Immortal' on the wooden board.

"An Immortal is not one who stands on a mountain to be looked up to."

"An Immortal is the path he has walked, which allows those at the foot of the mountain to dare to look up."

"You were right back then."

"If a person ascends the mountain but forgets the people at the foot of the mountain, then the 'person' on the left side of the character 'Immortal' is gone."

"If the person is gone, no matter how high the mountain is, it is just a dead mountain."

Lu Xingzhou's body trembled.

He suddenly remembered a snowy night from many years ago when he was young.

He remembered handing half a bowl of porridge to an old man who was about to freeze to death, even though he himself was starving.

At that time, he did not think about the Dao.

Nor did he think about Immortals.

He just felt that as long as the person wasn't dead, he couldn't pretend not to see.

It turned out the initial answer had been in that half bowl of porridge all along.

Lu Xingzhou lowered his head.

"But Wanying is dead."

Qin Yun's voice softened slightly.

"She is dead."

"So you should continue walking the path she hoped you would take."

"Do not let her become your shackles."

"And do not let her death become a reason for you to avoid drawing your sword."

The campfire made a soft sound.

Lu Xingzhou was silent for a long time.

Rainwater dripped down from the broken tiles, landing by his feet.

His shoulders and back slowly straightened.

A spark of light reignited in his eyes that had previously gone dim.

"The sword does not protect the outcome."

"It protects hope."

He repeated in a low voice.

Qin Yun did not speak.

Lu Xingzhou stepped back, wanting to kneel.

Qin Yun raised his hand and gently supported him.

Lu Xingzhou's knees could not touch the ground.

"Sir?"

"The Karma has been settled."

Qin Yun withdrew his hand.

"You and I are merely passing acquaintances."

Lu Xingzhou looked at him.

He finally understood that this old scholar before him was definitely not a Mortal.

But he did not press for answers.

He simply bowed deeply.

"I will remember your teachings, Sir."

Qin Yun waved his hand.

"Go."

"The path is outside, not in a dilapidated temple."

Lu Xingzhou turned around and walked into the rainy night.

When he left, his steps were still heavy.

But they were no longer as empty as when he arrived.

The children in the temple watched his retreating figure.

A child asked in a low voice, "Teacher, will he attain Immortal Ascension in the future?"

Qin Yun looked at the curtain of rain.

"I do not know."

"But he will descend the mountain."

...

After the discussion in the dilapidated temple, Lu Xingzhou drew his sword once again.

He did not become carefree.

Nor did he become invulnerable from then on.

But he no longer asked himself if he could save everyone.

He only asked if this sword should be drawn today.

If it should be drawn, he would draw it.

He protected a small town besieged by mountain bandits.

He also protected a group of refugees who had escaped from the ruins of the Dark Turmoil.

He began to gather those who were homeless.

His old subordinates became more numerous.

The people following him also became more numerous.

Some were children he had saved.

Some were Cultivators who had lost their Sect.

Some were collateral branches of noble families who had once looked down on him.

Others came to join him, covered in wounds, simply because they had heard his name.

Lu Xingzhou never asked about their origins.

Those willing to protect others could stay.

Those willing to bully others could get out.

This rule was brutally simple.

Yet it made more and more people respect him.

His reputation grew, and he attracted more and more hatred.

The old Imperial clans lost several cities.

He killed several evil Elders of the Ancient Sect.

Some factions that fed on flesh and blood in troubled times had their limbs hacked off by his sword, one by one.

Thus, assassinations came.

Poisonings came.

Framings came.

The schemes of the old factions stabbed at him, one after another.

Lu Xingzhou did not retreat.

He walked, he killed, and he took people in along the way.

Finally, he was about to become a Saint.

The location was chosen at an ancient battlefield.

The Evil Qi there was extremely heavy.

The ground was buried with many bones of soldiers from days of old.

If an ordinary person entered, their Divine Soul would be torn apart by the Evil Qi.

But Lu Xingzhou needed this Evil Qi.

He wanted to fuse the battlefield's Evil Qi with his own will to protect.

On the day of his sanctification, the sky was dark and heavy.

The Saint Tribulation surged.

Lightning pressed down on the battlefield like an inverted sea.

Lu Xingzhou sat cross-legged in the center of the battlefield.

His Sword Intent rose bit by bit around him.

Behind him were the old subordinates who had followed him for many years.

There were close friends.

There were good teachers.

There were brothers who had fought alongside him through the most difficult times.

They guarded the perimeter.

Everyone knew today was very dangerous.

But no one left.

As soon as the first wave of the Saint Tribulation fell, array lights lit up in the distance.

A lethal Formation instantly sealed off the heavenly secrets.

Dozens of factions came together.

They chose to strike at the most critical moment of Lu Xingzhou's Undergoing Tribulation.

The resentment deep within the battlefield was triggered by secret arts, turning into black mist that surged crazily toward the Saint Tribulation.

The original Saint Tribulation was instantly corrupted.

The lightning turned black.

The Evil Qi rolled back.

A situation of certain death was formed.

"Lu Xingzhou, today is the day of your death."

An Imperial descendant stood outside the Formation, his expression cold.

A Quasi-Emperor stood beside him.

The Quasi-Emperor looked up at Lu Xingzhou's followers.

"A bunch of ants."

"Throwing their lives away for a Loose Cultivator."

"Truly ridiculous."

Lu Xingzhou's old subordinates did not curse back.

They just walked forward.

One row.

Another row.

Forming a human wall.

The first wave of the offensive fell.

The dozen or so people in the front row were shattered on the spot.

The second wave of the offensive followed closely.

Others burned their Divine Souls, using their broken bodies to block the Formation light.

"Master, continue the Tribulation!"

"Don't worry about us!"

"If you become a Saint, our deaths today will not be in vain!"

Lu Xingzhou's eyes were bloodshot.

The Saint Tribulation pressed down on his head; the corrupted lightning almost tore his Dao Heart to pieces.

He watched familiar people fall one by one.

He watched the people he had shared drinks with be slapped into blood mist by the Quasi-Emperor.

He watched the old man who had once taught him to practice the sword use his last breath to block a soul blade for him.

His chest felt tight, and he could barely breathe.

The Imperial descendant looked at the human wall, and his expression changed.

He did not understand.

"Why?"

"You clearly know you will die."

"Is it worth it for him?"

A one-armed Cultivator smiled.

"Someone like you wouldn't understand."

The Imperial descendant's expression was ugly.

Because he didn't understand, he was even more jealous.

He came from an Imperial clan and was used to the schemes within his clan.

He had never seen so many people willing to die for one person.

This kind of thing made his heart grow cold.

It also made him want to destroy Lu Xingzhou even more.

"Kill."

The Quasi-Emperor struck.

With one palm strike, heaven and earth changed color.

The human wall was torn open.

Lu Xingzhou's close friend rushed up, his chest pierced by the palm print.

He turned back, looking at Lu Xingzhou, his mouth full of blood.

"Don't stop."

"Become a Saint."

"Walk on for us."

As the words fell, he collapsed.

Lu Xingzhou could finally no longer hold on.

He roared at the sky.

But it was not to beg for mercy from the heavens.

It was to seize power from the heavens.

The Law of the Saint Dao that was about to flow into his body was forcibly reversed by him.

He gave up Undergoing Tribulation.

He gave up becoming a Saint.

He blasted the power of the Saint Dao, which was about to take shape, in the opposite direction.

Boom!

The Quasi-Emperor was repelled.

The lethal Formation cracked open a gap.

Lu Xingzhou himself suffered a backlash.

His chest exploded, bones shattered, and cracks appeared in his dao foundation.

But he stood up.

He raised his sword, blocking in front of the remaining people.

"I don't want to become a Saint anymore."

"I only want to protect them."

When these words fell, the entire ancient battlefield suddenly shook.

It was not the Saint Tribulation.

It was not the Formation.

It was deep in the battlefield.

A will that had been buried for countless years was awakened by his choice.

The earth cracked open.

There was no treasure light shooting into the sky from the crack.

Only a broken jade piece rose slowly.

The jade piece was very old.

An ancient character was carved on it.

Zhao.

It ignored the Quasi-Emperor's blockade.

It ignored the Saint Tribulation.

It ignored all Formations and killing intent.

It turned into a stream of light and went straight into the center of Lu Xingzhou's eyebrows.

Lu Xingzhou's body trembled.

Within his Sea of Consciousness, a Supreme Scripture unfolded.

Supreme Scripture.

The scripture encompassed everything.

Physique, space, time, life and death, fate, Dao, Luck...

All power seemed to have its root in this scripture.

Lu Xingzhou's dao wounds stopped expanding.

His Sword Intent re-condensed.

The will of "I would rather not be a Saint, I must protect" completely merged with the residual thought in the Supreme Scripture of opening up peace for all generations.

He raised his head.

There was no more confusion in his eyes.

The Saint Tribulation fell again.

But this time, the resentment was forcibly ground away by the Supreme Scripture.

The lightning brightened again.

Lu Xingzhou took a step forward.

He no longer sought an outcome.

He only gripped his sword tightly.

"Today, not one of the people I protect shall die again."

...

Far, far away.

In the dilapidated temple.

Qin Yun was repairing the roof.

The rain leaked in from the hole again.

He stood on a wooden ladder, holding a new tile in his hand.

Suddenly, his movements paused.

From the direction of the Yuanhuang Heavenly Continent, a long-lost aura gently brushed past his mind.

Zhao.

Supreme Scripture.

Qin Yun looked up and gazed into the distance.

A trace of deep reminiscence flashed in his eyes.

That memory had been sealed for too long.

Long enough that he thought he had already forgotten it.

But when the character "Zhao" appeared, the memories of the past were stirred up once again.