Chapter 262: Just Let Me Go Through the Tribulation

Vast black clouds loomed over the Magic Capital, looking from afar like endless mountain ranges; even the sky seemed unable to bear the weight, giving a feeling that it might collapse at any moment.

The heavens were lowered a bit, causing passersby below to feel a tremor of fear, worrying that this world might truly be crushed by the storm clouds.

Heavens, these rainclouds keep growing larger—it's truly frightening to look at.

I clearly remember it wasn't this big before.

Upon reflection, this rain has been intermittent, as if it's been falling for over a month; continuing like this, it'll soon exceed the plum‑rain season.

Even the plum‑rain season isn't this extreme—it feels a bit terrifying; if it keeps going, the Magic Capital might end up flooded.

Although no disaster signs have appeared yet, many citizens worry, chatting anxiously about the huge storm clouds overhead.

At first the clouds were unremarkable, but day after day they built up; nobody paid attention, yet who would have thought they'd silently grow to this scale—it truly exceeded everyone's expectations.

The Magic Capital's high officials had already reported the situation upward, but the Greater Xia High Officials were busy studying the landing of several creatures from the Divine Illumination Kingdom and trying to arrange talks with Longyuan Mountain, so they hadn't yet paid much attention to the Magic Capital.

Though the city seemed calm, underneath surged dark currents; the Magic Capital's officials, from top to bottom, had their hearts in their throats, anxiously preparing for the imminent downpour.

Even the air was thick with tension; passersby hurried along, occasionally glancing up at the overcast sky, their faces grave.

Unlike most people's unease, Longling's avatar remained unworldly, living a perfectly ordinary life, and Ye Qin thus continually tempered himself, experiencing the mortal realm.

Each day the avatar went out to tell fortunes, setting out in the morning and returning at dusk; after his reputation spread, more and more people came seeking him, even famous merchants and officials from near and far.

The bustling fortune‑telling line still stretched like a long dragon, when suddenly cries of alarm rang out.

Not far away, several Rolls‑Royces had stopped at some point; their deep‑black bodies prowled like jungle panthers, and from them stepped several tall, broad‑shouldered black‑clad bodyguards.

Their steps were agile, their breathing steady—at a glance they were clearly trained martial artists.

Behind those black‑clad guards stood a middle‑aged man; though his features were ordinary, he bore a special aura, his attire all haute couture, revealing his extraordinary wealth and status.

Such a entourage drew many sideways glances; a few guards produced a stack of red bills, seemingly trying to bribe their way to the front, but the man shook his head to stop them, instead taking his place honestly at the back of the queue.

Seeing this scene, many in line's eyes lit up; they couldn't help whispering, and soon began taking photos with their phones.

Even many hesitated a moment, then decided to step forward to greet the man, shake his hand, and leave the queue; from the side it was clear his status was not ordinary.

However, most people didn't leave; they kept waiting in line until the sun set, when finally it was the man's turn.

He looked at the person before the fortune‑telling stall, his expression showing a bit of curiosity and inquiry, and spoke openly:

"I've long heard that a divine calculator has appeared under the great bridge, his divinations uncannily accurate—fame doesn't compare to seeing him in person, and now I finally have."

In fact, the man had already inquired about him, but the person before him was extremely mysterious—appearing and disappearing without trace, suddenly showing up under the great bridge as if out of nowhere; no one knew his origins.

Even he could find no information about him; it could only be two possibilities: either his background is deep, or his own strength is formidable.

The person before him must be the latter; without some genuine talent, how could he have risen so quickly to prominence, even drawing famous merchants and dignitaries?

The man was clearly a superior, yet his words and demeanor put on no airs; ordinary people facing his praise felt only startled gratitude.

Longling's avatar merely gave a faint smile, his expression hardly changing; it seemed the man before him was no different from any ordinary citizen.

"What would you like to have divined, sir?"

The man pondered a moment, then said: "Let's have my fortunes read regarding my career."

"Then please tell me what's happened recently—anything will do."

The man blinked slightly; this way of fortune‑telling was new to him, and he hesitated: "Don't you need my birth date and time?"

The avatar shook his head slightly, merely studying the man's features.

Although he wore large black sunglasses, the man still felt a cool, piercing gaze upon him, imbued with the power to see into hearts—as if nothing could remain hidden.

His inner self trembled involuntarily, his soul shuddering with warning that the person before him was not simple; it had been ages since anyone gave him such a feeling.

The man drifted into a moment of absent‑mindedness, then subconsciously began to recount recent events, though most of what he said were trivial details from which no useful information could be distilled.

Longling's avatar listened attentively; as the man spoke, a faint connection began to spread, extending along the horizon.

Moments later, almost as soon as the man finished speaking, the divination symbols on the stall appeared.

"Sir, your business should be doing well lately; last month a major event occurred that dealt a heavy blow to your competitors, even destroying some."

"Yet you're also quite wise, staying clear of the controversy; it proves that non‑action brings heavenly reward."

The man's face changed slightly; he struggled to keep his expression calm, but inside a tremendous surge rose—though he had come out of curiosity, he was actually half‑believing, half‑doubting.

He had merely wanted to try it casually, never expecting the person before him to actually get it right!

Aside from him and a few confidants, nobody else knew about this; afterward he even sealed the information, making it impossible for outsiders to learn—how could this fortune‑teller have known?!

The man before him was no one else—he was Song Nan, the head of one of the Magic Capital's top conglomerates.

A month or so ago, the Divine Illumination Kingdom had sent agents infiltrating Greater Xia to facilitate their operations; they contacted several powerful forces in the Magic Capital, hoping for aid, and Song Nan was among them.

However, Song Nan had never held any fondness for the Divine Illumination Kingdom; though a businessman seeks profit, he also knows which money to earn and which to avoid.

Faced with the temptation of billions, he hesitated a bit but ultimately refused; little did he know that this very decision would save his own life and that of his entire conglomerate!

Word had it that another force later took on the task, aiding the Divine Illumination Kingdom, but on the very night they received their reward, that force was destroyed by a mysterious power!

That force was also quite sizable—otherwise it wouldn't have held sway in the Magic Capital for years—yet overnight its buildings collapsed; afterward no one knew who was responsible, showing just how terrifying this power was, far beyond their imagination.

Thinking of this, Song Nan still feels lingering dread, cold sweat breaking out on his back; he had come close to brushing shoulders with death.

Had he been greedy for wealth back then, he would likely already be separated head from body!

Although Song Nan later grew curious and wanted to investigate who possessed such ability, thinking of that force's fate deterred him; thereafter he kept the matter tightly sealed.

Who would have thought that today's mere encounter would actually be divined correctly?

While Song Nan was shocked, Ye Qin also felt a bit puzzled, for in the divination he sensed a faint thread connecting to him.

Although not explicit, it certainly existed.

However, these connections soon faded, involving little entanglement; later divinations showed little overlap, and Ye Qin didn't take it to heart.

Originally half‑believing, half‑doubting, Song Nan now stood reverent, his gaze toward the avatar filled with awe: "May I ask, exalted one, will I still be involved in this hereafter?"

"Rest easy; the divination shows the karmic debt is settled."

Hearing this, Song Nan finally relaxed, wiping the sweat from his forehead: "Exalted one, could you point me toward the right path? What should I do next?"

"Keep a kind heart, stride forward, and heaven will surely protect you."

His words were ambiguous; Song Nan pondered them repeatedly, showing a thoughtful look. He glanced at Longling's avatar, hesitated, and said, "I don't know if this exalted one would come to my consortium? I will certainly treat you with the highest courtesy."

Longling's avatar shook its head.

This answer was within Song Nan's expectations; given this person's abilities, if they wanted to leave, it would be utterly easy, and they wouldn't be lingering under the bridge.

Although he was a bit disappointed, he quickly came to terms with it, after all, the information he gained here today was not in vain.

Song Nan rose, bowed deeply to the avatar, then set down a thick wad of cash before turning and leaving.

The youth selling roasted sweet potatoes nearby couldn't help but gape, his eyes nearly popping out.

He looked at the thick stack of old man bills on the divination stall, couldn't help rubbing his eyes, and exclaimed, "Holy shit! What did you just say to him? In such a short time, you've given him this much money!"

Longling's avatar revealed a mysterious smile: "Heaven's secrets must not be divulged."

The youth couldn't help smacking his lips, his expression full of envy.

"Don't you know who that person just was? His name is Song Nan, the most powerful financial magnate in the Magic Capital. I'd only seen him on TV or in newspapers and magazines before, but thanks to you, I actually got to see him in person."

Actually, it wasn't just Song Nan; many who witnessed Longling's avatar's accurate divinations wanted to invite him, but the avatar refused them all.

The youth buying roasted sweet potatoes was utterly bewildered: "I thought I heard him invite you just now—why didn't you accept? This is an opportunity countless people with lanterns could never find."

"Fame, rank, and wealth are not what I seek; what use are high office and emoluments? These things may seem easily obtained, but they are merely gifts from others—fleeting clouds that vanish in an instant."

"Only this little divination—heaven's secrets are self-determined, not controlled by mortals."

Hearing the avatar's words, the youth showed a confused expression and couldn't help muttering, "You're spouting incomprehensible nonsense again. Forget it—different folks, different strokes; why should I worry about what you do?"

After his words fell, he grabbed several plump sweet potatoes and tossed them into the iron stove; the firewood crackled, thin white smoke curled, and the air filled with the unique sweet aroma of roasted sweet potatoes—ordinary yet comforting.

In the following time, Longling's avatar continued setting up his divination stall under the bridge.

Occasionally, during leisure, he would wander the streets and alleys of the Magic Capital, blending with the myriad masses, indistinguishable from the busy folk scrambling for a livelihood.

From the moment Ye Qin set foot on the path of cultivation, he was either cultivating or seeking opportunity, his spirit constantly taut, never relaxing.

Even during closed-door retreat, he never relaxed; Longyuan Mountain's seemingly unworldly, leisurely life was actually not so—rather, during this period of living incognito in the Magic Capital, Ye Qin, through his avatar, experienced the long-missed warmth of mortal life.

In a daze, he recalled his previous life as an ordinary mortal—no rebirth, no transmigration, no Cosmic Cultivation Civilization; just like any commoner, needing little knowledge, he simply scraped together meals, an unremarkable existence that is, in fact, the life of most people.

But this tranquil life was soon shattered.

After returning, Song Nan repeatedly pondered the avatar's words, including the phrase "Cherish good intentions, stride forward." Finding it reasonable, he began implementing sweeping reforms within his consortium.

Originally Song Nan leaned conservative; though he hadn't achieved great success, he was still respectable, his power considerable—otherwise the Divine Illumination Kingdom would not have come knocking.

Now this colossus decided to forge ahead, inevitably infringing on others' interests, but Song Nan's strength was formidable, leaving them powerless.

Eventually the investigation revealed that the root cause was actually a tiny divination stall, and thereafter all fingers pointed at Longling's avatar.

They tried to seize him and bring him back, but every one of them came away empty-handed.

Afterward they even fainted at the roadside; a good Samaritan called an ambulance and took them to the hospital, where the diagnosis turned out to be fright-induced faint—truly bewildering.

During this period, Song Nan also frequently visited the divination stall to ask various questions, each time bringing a large sum of money as tribute.

Longling's avatar neither accepted nor refused it; to him, such worldly wealth was ultimately just a few sheets of paper.

Originally he thought things would continue as usual, but the avatar noticed that the youth selling roasted sweet potatoes nearby had not shown up for a long time for some unknown reason.

Only toward evening did he finally appear, tardy, which was utterly unlike his usual demeanor.

The avatar couldn't help asking, "What's wrong?"

The youth, normally full of vigor and enthusiastic about everything, now hung his head like a frost‑bitten eggplant, murmuring, "Nothing."

The avatar, not one to meddle, seeing the youth unwilling to elaborate, did not press further.

In the following time, the youth's visits grew increasingly infrequent; sometimes he didn't come at all, and when he did appear, his expression was utterly listless, with dark circles and eye bags worsening day by day.

Beside the tiny divination stall, the faint scent of sweet potato was gone; even those who came for divination would ask, "Where has that young sweet‑potato seller gone?"

Finally, one day a torrential downpour fell; as Longling's avatar was packing up his stall to head home, the youth approached and laid down some cash.

"I'd like a divination."

He seemed exhausted; his voice was hoarse, faintly tinged with sobs.

The avatar put things back, nodded, and asked, "What would you like to have divined?"

Amid the pouring rain, the youth spoke heavily: "Help me divine—how much time does my mother have left?"

The youth came out of the great mountains; his gravely ill mother is why he came to the Magic Capital to make his way, for here the prosperous medical facilities could give her good treatment.

His dream was that his mother would no longer toil and could see the outside world, yet he never imagined things would turn out contrary to his wishes.

In a few words the youth recounted the bitter half‑life of a mountain child: beneath a cheerful, optimistic façade lay stagnant waters of existence, disaster crushing mercilessly, offering no chance to catch a breath.

Now his mother's condition suddenly worsened; in the hospital, land is worth its weight in gold, his savings are nowhere near enough, and setbacks and hardships always erupt when least expected, plunging his days of promise back into the mire.

Heaven's secrets suffused the air; the divination appeared, and the youth trembled as he uttered, "One year?"

The avatar said nothing; a silent gloom spread, yet the youth seemed to grasp something, his face suddenly turning grim: "One month?"

The avatar still gave no reply.

All color drained from the youth's face, like death‑white paper, his whole body shuddering as he whispered, "One week?"

By this point the youth had grown accustomed to the avatar's divinations; upon receiving the answer, his eye sockets instantly reddened and his pupils filled with ash‑gray despair.

"I never imagined that Mother, who toiled bitterly for me, would, after finally escaping the mountains, have less than a week left!"

"Why can some enjoy life without lifting a finger, feasting on delicacies they then toss aside, while we honest folk have toiled all our lives, to the point that even scavenging scraps is a struggle?"

"This is why."

The downpour poured forth; the youth gradually collapsed, wailing heart‑rending cries, seeming to vent his inner discontent as rain mingled with sobs, huge teardrops striking the ground and instantly merging with the rain.

The storm was imminent; at this moment the road held no passersby, the empty space beneath the wide bridge held only them and the streetlamp—not even a stray dog.

Longling's avatar fell somewhat silent; any words now would seem pale and futile.

Indeed this world is full of inequity; from birth people are sorted into ranks, some born at the summit, others spending their lives striving for the peak only to labor in vain.

After a long while the rain eased; the youth dried his tears, composed himself, and said, "Sorry for my loss of composure—I've made a spectacle of myself. I fear upcoming events will prevent me from vending alongside you any longer."

"I'm taking Mother back to our hometown—leaves return to their roots; she too wishes to go back to the mountains. This cold steel‑and‑concrete city is ultimately not our home."

It's still quite a joy to meet you.

After the youth and his clone said goodbye, they prepared to leave.

The rain continued to patter down nonstop, the youth's silhouette gradually turned into a tiny black dot, disappearing into the rain curtain.

Longling's clone was packing up, his mood unusually heavy; since embarking on cultivation, rarely could anything easily sway his emotions.

People like the youth are many in the world; all beings bustle about, striving for a livelihood.

Most live ordinary lives—where would dramatic ups and downs, carefree heroism come from? Some are merely birth, aging, sickness, death, rice, firewood, oil, salt.

However, what was strange to the clone was that within this hexagram there was still a sliver of vitality, and that vitality actually concerned him.

How could this be?!

Longling's clone stared at the hexagram, his eyes flickering; he had long ago comprehended the great Dao of life and death, gaining deeper insight and understanding of life and death.

Life and death are like the yin-yang, black and white two sides of things; although they oppose each other, they also mutually depend.

Human life and death already have a fixed number, but within that fixed number there often exists a variable; this is also what is called a miracle.

The clone slowly sighed; an unimaginable aura gradually lingered around, while strands of heavenly secrets flowed, a faint green light emerged.

The pitch-black clouds above seemed to sense something; endless lightning flickered faintly, shuttling back and forth within the cloud layer.

Longling's clone stepped into the rain curtain; he held no umbrella, yet his whole body was completely dry; upon closer look, those raindrops actually all avoided him!

It was as if an invisible barrier completely isolated him from the surrounding raindrops, as if he were fearing something; truly miraculous to the extreme.

The clone had only taken a few steps when he caught up with the youth ahead; at this moment his stance was unsteady, his consciousness somewhat scattered, the fatigue of recent days had already overwhelmed him, now he was at the end of his tether.

Seeing the person approaching, the youth gaped, thinking he was hallucinating; before he could speak, the other dropped a bombshell.

I can save your mother.

The youth, somewhat incredulous, asked: 'How can you save her?'

The clone pointed upward; the youth also instinctively looked up, seeing within the huge black cloud layer a mysterious purple light radiating, as if a purple dragon had emerged, truly awe-inspiring.

When did the sky become like this?

Before he could figure out what this meant, he heard someone nearby say: 'I'm going to undergo a tribulation.'

As the words fell, a green light enveloped the clone; his figure gradually blurred, replaced by a slender, elongated shadow, the horns on his forehead stark, the green scales revealing the breath of ages.

Ye Qin's true form appears!

At the same moment, the heavenly tribulation finally accurately sensed Ye Qin's aura.

Thick lightning bolted down from the heavens, striking straight to the nine heavens!

The terrifying lightning power even vaporized all the rainwater within ten or so meters around.

In the next second, winds and clouds shifted abruptly, lightning flashed, the heavenly tribulation was upon us! (End of chapter)