We Agreed On Experiencing Life, So Why Did You Immortals Become Real? - Chapter 445: A Person Your Master Has Missed for a Very, Very Long Time

Jiang Qingyi returned to the National Preceptor’s residence.

The moment she stepped into the courtyard, she noticed two brocade boxes sitting on the stone table.

“Someone come here.” Jiang Qingyi called out toward the entrance.

“National Preceptor.”

Shortly after, a maidservant walked out with great deference and bowed before Jiang Qingyi.

“Who sent these two gift boxes?” Jiang Qingyi asked.

“In reply to the National Preceptor,” the maidservant answered, “these two gift boxes were sent over on behalf of Noble Consort Xue of Ning Xue Palace and Noble Consort Mu of Han Jiu Palace.”

“The two noble consorts also asked your servant to convey a message, saying that everything the National Preceptor has done for His Majesty has not gone unnoticed by them, and that these two items are meant as a gesture of recompense to the National Preceptor.”

“They also said that in the future, the pills can be refined by them as well, and there would be no need to trouble the National Preceptor further.”

Hearing the maidservant’s answer, Jiang Qingyi’s brow furrowed, and at last she gave a wave of her hand. “I understand. You may withdraw.”

“Yes, National Preceptor.”

After the maidservant withdrew, Jiang Qingyi opened the gift boxes that Noble Consort Xue and Noble Consort Mu had sent.

What Yan Ruxue had sent was a ten-thousand-year sea spirit mushroom, which held remarkable properties for replenishing qi and blood.

What Qin Siyao had sent was a bottle of ten-thousand-year hundred-flower brew, with effects similar to the sea spirit mushroom.

“Hmph!”

Jiang Qingyi let out a cold snort and closed the boxes.

How could she not understand what Yan Ruxue and Qin Siyao were thinking?

They had already learned that she had refined the Heaven-Stealing Pill for Xiao Mo and the Heaven-Stealing Pill consumed one’s vital blood essence in the refining.

By sending over these items to replenish qi and blood, they were simply trying to ensure that Xiao Mo would not owe her a personal debt of gratitude but what she had done for Xiao Mo, what did that have to do with either of them?

“Do they truly think they have become my master’s wives?”

Jiang Qingyi put the lid back on the box, let out a cold snort, turned, and walked back into her room.

The following morning.

Xiao Mo rose early.

Today, Xiao Mo was going to attempt Foundation Building.

Xiao Mo boarded a carriage and set out for the secluded plain he had chosen and planned for long in advance.

Wei Xun had wanted to accompany Xiao Mo, but was turned away.

Of course, Xiao Mo had not brought Sili either.

It was not that Xiao Mo did not trust Wei Xun or Sili.

It was simply that both Yan Ruxue and Qin Siyao would be going along, and they would help him set up the altar and formations.

The fact that Yan Ruxue and Qin Siyao were cultivators of the Middle Three Realms was something they did not wish others to know.

Before long, Xiao Mo, dressed in a simple blue robe, stood on this stretch of uninhabited earth.

This first tribulation crossing was, in truth, a matter that filled him with a measure of tension.

Although Xiao Mo had crossed heavenly tribulations many times within the Book of a Hundred Lives, those had ultimately been nothing more than simulated lives within its pages.

Dying in the Book of a Hundred Lives was not a true death.

Dying in reality, however, would truly mean the end of him and so, on this small plain, Xiao Mo carefully and earnestly arranged the altar.

Before attempting to cross the tribulation, he intended to first pay his respects to heaven and earth, in hopes that when the lightning tribulation descended, it might fall with a little less force.

At this behavior of Xiao Mo’s, Jiang Qingyi let out a dismissive “hmph” and turned her head away, muttering under her breath, “What is there to bow to? Are we cultivators supposed to depend on the Heavenly Dao’s mood?”

Xiao Mo acted as though he had not heard her.

It was not that he could not understand her way of thinking.

He had previously asked Jiang Qingyi what precautions to take when crossing a tribulation.

Jiang Qingyi had said there was nothing worth noting. When she crossed tribulations, she always started by cursing the heavens out thoroughly and treating the sky as something lower than an ant beneath her feet.

All Xiao Mo could say was that this method suited geniuses of exceptional talent, but it did not suit him.

After all, cursing the heavens in the middle of a tribulation crossing was very likely to invite swift retribution.

Unless one possessed the kind of breathtaking natural talent that defied all expectation, an ordinary person, especially someone like himself who was also a mortal emperor, was better off following the proper procedure like a sensible human being.

Compared to Jiang Qingyi’s view that all the preparations Xiao Mo was making were unnecessary,

Yan Ruxue wore a gentle smile and helped Xiao Mo build the altar, personally arranging the offerings on it with her own hands.

Xiao Mo felt that Yan Ruxue’s attitude toward the tribulation crossing was exactly right.

Look at her. She showed proper respect to the Heavenly Dao. That was exactly how a proper cultivator ought to behave.

After finishing the altar, Yan Ruxue reached out and tidied Xiao Mo’s collar, then smiled and said,

“When husband crosses the tribulation, do not rush. Simply keep your focus. We have already shown the Heavenly Dao proper face. If that wretched Heavenly Dao does not know how to appreciate the gesture and dares to give husband a hard time, your servant will tear a piece right out of it.”

Hearing Yan Ruxue’s words, Xiao Mo did not quite know what to say.

It seemed that for Ruxue, her respect for the Heavenly Dao was entirely contingent on whether the Heavenly Dao “knew how to appreciate the gesture” or not.

“Brother Emperor, the auspicious hour has arrived. It is just about time.” After finishing the arrangement of the formation for Xiao Mo, Qin Siyao came running up to him with a bright and cheerful manner. “Brother Emperor, do not worry. Foundation Building is very simple. It is over in the blink of an eye.”

“Many thanks to all three of you.”

Xiao Mo clasped his hands and bowed.

Even though Ruxue and Mu Jiu’s identities remained a mystery, it seemed that with them here, this tribulation crossing was not quite such an impossible undertaking.

Half a stick of incense later, Yan Ruxue and the other two moved to a distance of one li from Xiao Mo.

Xiao Mo took a long, deep breath, released the seal he had placed on his own realm, and made his attempt at Foundation Building.

Thunder clouds began gathering ceaselessly in the sky above him.

Within a radius of five li with Xiao Mo at the center, the air grew dim and heavy, as though a torrential downpour might break loose at any moment.

“BOOM!”

A flash of lightning split across the sky, followed by the low, heavy roll of thunder.

Xiao Mo drew a deep breath, swallowed the Heaven-Stealing Pill, and prepared himself to face the lightning tribulation.

In the days leading up to this, Xiao Mo had read a great many texts on Foundation Building.

Under ordinary circumstances, the Foundation Building tribulation consisted of nothing more than two bolts of lightning.

If one passed through them, Foundation Building was complete.

If one did not, the lighter outcome was severe bodily injury, while the heavier outcome was the complete destruction of both body and soul, leaving nothing behind.

In a rare one-in-ten-thousand case, the cultivator might survive to attempt Foundation Building again another time but based on what Xiao Mo had learned, fewer than one in a thousand cultivators who had failed their first attempt ever succeeded the second time.

“BOOM!”

The instant the thunder crashed, a bolt of violet light came hurtling down from the distant sky.

Xiao Mo did not dodge.

There was simply no way to dodge heavenly lightning.

He stood where he was and bore the first bolt head-on.

As the lightning faded, he lowered his head and coughed twice. A scorched, acrid taste surged up in his throat, which felt as though it had been smoked through with hot fumes.

Xiao Mo’s face, hands, and the skin visible through the tears in his collar were all marked with the dark burns of lightning.

He blinked and shook his head. Tiny sparks of gold still drifted across his vision, and his ears rang with a persistent hum.

Xiao Mo looked toward the three figures in the distance. His sight was blurred, and he could make out only their vague outlines.

Before Xiao Mo could even catch his breath, the second bolt was already upon him.

This time, the lightning did not come crashing straight down from above. Instead, it suddenly contracted and condensed in midair, taking the shape of a long sword, its tip pointed directly at Xiao Mo.

“The tribulation lightning has taken form?”

Yan Ruxue’s voice dropped very low, but her feet had already shifted forward half a step.

Jiang Qingyi and Qin Siyao at her side each moved forward by half a step as well, and the expressions of all three women changed at nearly the same instant.

The so-called manifestation of tribulation lightning into form was a phenomenon that occurred only when cultivators at the Dragon Gate realm crossed their tribulations.

At the Dragon Gate realm and above, once spiritual energy had condensed to a sufficient degree, the lightning tribulation sent down by the Heavenly Dao would take on different forms according to the primary cultivation technique of the one crossing the tribulation but Xiao Mo was only attempting Foundation Building.

The Foundation Building tribulation had two bolts at most. Why would there be a manifestation tribulation on top of that?

Standing out on the plain, Xiao Mo had no time to think through any of this.

The long sword formed from tribulation lightning was already right before his eyes.

He raised his hand, and the spirit sword Jiang Qingyi had given him earlier fell into his palm.

Xiao Mo gathered his sword qi into a single edge and swung it to meet the lightning sword.

The two forces collided, and a muffled explosion burst outward.

The shockwave spread in all directions, sending shards of rock flying across the ground and kicking up a column of dust three zhang high.

When the dust and smoke cleared, Xiao Mo’s knees buckled, and he dropped onto one knee, driving the sword in his hand into the earth to keep himself upright.

He lowered his head. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and dripped onto the scorched black earth before him. His arms, his neck, and the skin showing through the tears at his collar had split open in several thin lines. Blood seeped out, mixing with the dark gray sweat on his skin.

Yan Ruxue gripped the cuff of her sleeve so tightly that her knuckles went white.

The second bolt of tribulation lightning had passed but the sky did not clear.

The dark clouds pressed down even lower instead, and within the churning layers of cloud, something was dimly moving.

A moment later, a head pushed through.

It was an ancient tribulation beast born of lightning.

The creature’s entire body was a deep, ghostly blue. Its eyes had no pupils, only two masses of even brighter lightning-light.

It made no sound. It simply lowered its head and fixed its gaze unwaveringly on Xiao Mo below.

“A third bolt???”

Xiao Mo raised his head, stared at the lightning beast, and wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

He began to question whether the tribulation he was crossing was actually just a Foundation Building one.

Lightning taking form, three bolts descending in succession, that was barely what a Dragon Gate realm cultivator would face.

Xiao Mo felt a quiet, helpless resignation settle in his chest.

He had the Primordial Emperor Bone, and on top of that he had consumed the Heaven-Stealing Pill refined by National Preceptor Jiang. What had he done to deserve being so “generously honored” by the heavens?

At the same time, Yan Ruxue had already moved.

The spiritual energy within her sleeve was on the verge of taking on a physical form, and within her peach-blossom eyes, the pupils that were normally black had turned a golden vertical slit.

Jiang Qingyi tightened her grip on the long sword in her hand.

At some point, Qin Siyao had produced a Ten-Calamity Spear in her hand.

All three of them understood that if they intervened at this moment, Xiao Mo’s Foundation Building attempt would be ruined. Failing Foundation Building on the first try meant that ever stepping through that threshold again in the future would be near impossible but if they did not intervene, Xiao Mo would die right here.

Yet just as the three of them were on the verge of moving,

Xiao Mo stood up.

His knee lifted from the ground, and his spine straightened once more. Blood was still flowing, but he no longer bent forward.

A faint, soft light began to glow around him.

“What is this?”

The three women looked at Xiao Mo in astonishment.

The light was not blinding, nor was it sharp. It was gentle, like illumination arriving from somewhere very far away.

It was not the radiance of spiritual energy, nor the protection of a magical artifact.

It looked instead like the accumulated merit and fortune of ten thousand lit hearthfires, gathered into one.

Xiao Mo took a long, deep breath. The sword intent around him grew stronger.

He had once walked the streets and alleys of this world, treating the common people struck down by plague, personally tasting medicines to test their effects.

He had once watched the cooking smoke rise from stoves, lent support to poor and struggling families, and listened to the cries of children in the night.

He had once braved torrential rains to reach the riverbanks, working day and night to control the floods.

Those things that cultivators high on their mountains would call “ordinary,” “trivial,” and “not worth mentioning,” those traces of life and living, now gathered and condensed around him into a thin, faint halo of light.

Xiao Mo tightened his grip on his sword.

He did not look at the lightning beast. He did not look at the surging tribulation clouds churning overhead.

He simply dropped his eyes and looked at the spirit sword in his hand then he swung a single strike.

That strike carried no retreat, no reservation.

The last thread of spiritual energy in his body, the last ounce of strength in his blood and bones, together with that faint and fragile halo of ten thousand hearthfires, were all poured into that single sword.

The blade rose upward.

The lightning beast dove downward.

At the same time, in a secluded residence of the White Deer Academy, a woman in a dark ink-colored dress sat in her room reading a book.

Suddenly, the woman set down the book she was holding and walked quickly out of the room.

Standing in the courtyard, the woman gazed toward the distant horizon, her fair and slender fingers tightening involuntarily.

“Dean, what is the matter?”

Hu Die, who had been practicing calligraphy in the courtyard, raised her head, saw her teacher staring blankly into the distance, and immediately walked to Shang Jiuli’s side.

In Hu Die’s impression, her teacher had always been graceful and poised, composed and unhurried.

This was the first time she had ever seen her teacher look so tense.

Shang Jiuli shook her head and said slowly, “It is nothing. It is just that an old acquaintance of mine… has entered Foundation Building.”

“An old acquaintance?”

Hu Die blinked, and her expression grew all the more puzzled.

By all accounts, her teacher’s old acquaintances should all be great cultivators.

Why would the words “old acquaintance” be connected to something as relatively early as Foundation Building?

“That is right.”

Shang Jiuli turned her head with a smile, looked at her own disciple, and gently ruffled her hair.

“An old acquaintance that your master has missed for a very, very long time.”

…

The Central Plains.

The Confucian Academy.

In this central heart of the Ten Thousand Laws Realm, the place that every scholar under heaven dreamed of reaching, a stream of dark, ink-black scholarly light rose from the Temple of Culture and shot straight into the sky.

Wave after wave of clear wind swept through the Confucian Academy.

The wind was pleasant, carrying with it the fragrance of ink.

Scholars who felt it found the vast and righteous qi surging through their chests.

This was the Wind of Turning Pages.

“What is happening?”

“What a dense Wind of Turning Pages!”

“Could it be that a sage has descended into the world?”

“A phenomenon in the Temple of Culture! How many years has it been since the last time this appeared?”

“A sage… how long has it been since our Confucian school last produced a sage?”

The disciples of the academy, seeing the extraordinary signs within it, murmured and speculated among themselves and with the friends at their sides, wondering what in the world could be happening.

“Master, Master, the direction of the Temple of Culture…”

A young Confucian gentleman came running into the courtyard of the Confucian Academy’s master, Kong Sheng, in a state of alarmed confusion, so flustered he was nearly tripping over his own words.

“I know, I know all of it.”

Kong Sheng, with his full head of white hair, slowly rose from the soft couch and walked to the window.

This old man, who looked no different from an ordinary village elder, folded his sleeves together and looked toward the far distance, saying nothing.

“Master, what exactly is this phenomenon in the Temple of Culture?” This Confucian gentleman came to stand beside Kong Sheng, his heart full of doubt. “Could it truly be that a sage has descended into the world?”

“Yes… a sage has descended into the world.”

Kong Sheng turned his head and looked in another direction.

That was the Confucian Temple of Culture.

Within the Temple of Culture, four sages were enshrined in total but among the four, there was one conspicuously empty space, standing out in a way that felt oddly out of place.

As though a statue had once stood there, and had at some point been moved away.

“Jin Che, do you still remember the story that this old man once told you?” Kong Sheng looked at his closing-door disciple with a smile.

Jin Che paused for a moment. “Teacher is referring to…?”

Kong Sheng smiled faintly, but his eyes were full of a deep and quiet loneliness.

“Once upon a time, there was a very, very young sage. He did a great many, many things, and he lived up to the people of this world.”

“But the people of this world did not live up to him.”