Chapter 1037

·

·

·

Protagonist:

Xu Zhangqing

The air was permeated with a faint, elusive chill — not the damp cold of moisture, but a bone-penetrating, soul-deep yin cold, as if something unseen were slowly flowing through the air.

"They've been scattered."

Xu Zhangqing murmured to himself, his expression showing no surprise.

He had long anticipated this situation; since the Night Crying Secret Realm was alive, it would inevitably separate people when scrutinizing each entrant.

From the moment they stepped into the secret realm, everyone's trial had already begun.

However, all necessary preparations had been made; the rest depended on their respective fortunes.

Xu Zhangqing released his Divine Sense, spreading it out in all directions.

By rights, a Spirit Transformation Third Layer Divine Sense should cover a range exceeding a thousand li.

But on this Grey Plain, his Divine Sense seemed to be suppressed by something, its detection range shortened to less than ten li.

That faint, elusive yin cold in the air appeared to have a natural isolating effect on Divine Sense.

Seeing this, Xu Zhangqing withdrew his Divine Sense, then strode forward.

The Gray White Land beneath his feet emitted a fine rustling sound with each step, leaving a shallow footprint on the ground.

The plain was dead silent — no wind, no insect cries, no life activity whatsoever.

This absolute quiet was more unsettling than any clamor, silently warning him that this was no place for the living.

After walking for about an incense stick's time, a change finally appeared ahead.

It was a mirror.

Not on a wall, not on a table, but suspended in midair at a height of three feet above the ground.

The mirror stood roughly one person tall, its entire body composed of some kind of silver liquid; its edges flowed and deformed continuously, yet its center remained exceptionally calm.

When Xu Zhangqing reached a distance of about three zhang from the mirror surface, the mirror's surface suddenly rippled with layer upon layer of ripples; after the ripples dispersed, a person exactly like him walked out from within.

To say "exactly the same" is not entirely accurate.

The one who walked out had a face completely identical to Xu Zhangqing's, every feature as if cast from the same mold.

Daoist Robe, Jade Pendant, even the jade hairpin atop his head — all were exactly alike.

But upon careful observation, subtle differences could be discovered.

This "Xu Zhangqing" possessed only a single Wood Spirit Root.

Even his Golden Core was merely an Earth Grade Golden Core.

There was no fluctuation of the Dao Heart Lotus Embryo at his brow, no heaviness of the Xuanhuang Mother Qi Cauldron around him, and no yin cold of the Primordial Heavy Water.

His cultivation was only Spirit Transformation First Layer, his Physical Body merely at the level of an ordinary Spirit Transformation cultivator — paper-thin before Xu Zhangqing at Spirit Transformation Third Layer.

Only that pair of eyes made Xu Zhangqing's pupils contract sharply.

Those eyes held no pupils, only a mass of constantly surging Dark Gray Mist.

Deep within the mist, countless tiny shadows struggled, howled, twisted — as if all of a person's unwillingness, regret, remorse, and pain had been compressed into an infinitesimal space.

That gaze held no killing intent, yet it chilled the spine more than any killing intent could.

"You've come."

The mirror image spoke, its voice identical to Xu Zhangqing's, but its tone carried an indescribable heaviness, like an echo rising from the bottom of the Abyss.

Xu Zhangqing did not answer, merely watching this other version of himself in silence.

From the moment he saw the mirror, he had guessed what would follow.

Since the Night Crying Secret Realm was a Karma Realm, its trials from the very start were not aimed at the flesh body and techniques, but at the Divine Soul and Dao Heart.

Moreover, what this mirror reflected was not appearance, but himself in another timeline — without the System Buff.

All talents ordinary, all opportunities unrelated to him — just an ordinary spirit farmer who silently planted spirit rice in the Spirit Field for half a life, unknown to the world.

The mirror image stepped forward, each step leaving a charred black footprint on the Gray White Land.

His pace was not fast, yet each step carried a heavy, oppressive feeling.

With every step, the Gray Mist in his eyes surged more violently; those struggling shadows grew more frantic, as if silently screaming something.

When he stopped three zhang from Xu Zhangqing, the mirror image halted.

He lifted his head, those Gray Mist-churning eyes staring straight at Xu Zhangqing, then spoke again, demanding: "Why didn't you help Brother Zhu Shi cross his tribulation?"

"You!"

This one sentence struck like a ten-thousand-jun giant hammer, smashing heavily upon Xu Zhangqing's Dao Heart.

Even his consciousness and Divine Soul followed with a momentary trance.

Brother Zhu Shi.

This name — it had been a long time since anyone mentioned it before him.

He was the only one who willingly took him under his wing when Xu Zhangqing had just been promoted.

Brother Zhu Shi's cultivation was not high, his aptitude not outstanding, but he was witty and detached.

Later, Brother Zhu Shi failed his tribulation crossing, ultimately perishing in body and Dao.

This matter became one of the regrets in Xu Zhangqing's heart.

Yet before he could steady his mind, the mirror image spoke again: "Why didn't you leave a Protective Talisman for Hu Bugui?"

"I!!"

At these words, Xu Zhangqing's body shuddered violently.

The name Hu Bugui was like a rusted dagger, stabbing into the softest spot of his heart; every time he thought of it, it brought a dull yet deep agony.

That Lao Hu who spent all day grinning and joking died.

He died in the Yanguang Sect's internal strife, died in a place where he should not have died.

At that time, if he had left behind a protective talisman, perhaps Lao Hu would not have died.

Seeing it had an effect, the mirror image gave him no chance to catch his breath.

In those eyes where gray mist surged, the light became even more dazzling, the voice even more sharp, unpleasant and grating: "Why did you not go assist Bei Qingtang?"

"Ugh!!!"

The third heavy hammer blow forced Xu Zhangqing's Dao heart to the cliff edge, precarious.

Bei Qingtang.

She was both the eldest senior sister who had shown him much care in the sect, and the Dao companion who had brought a trace of warmth during those complex years.

The manner of her death would occasionally still appear in his distracting thoughts during meditation.

If only his cultivation had been higher at that time.

If only he had had other means at that time.

If at that time... if... if...

These assumptions were like countless needles, stabbing Xu Zhangqing full of holes.

Three questions, three names, three regrets that can never be made up for.

Each name was like a hand reaching out from the past, tightly throttling Xu Zhangqing's Dao heart.

His aura began to fluctuate, his magical power seeming to be disrupted by something, its flow becoming stagnant and chaotic.

Even more terrifying, Xu Zhangqing's cultivation was plummeting.

When the first question fell, it dropped to the Second Stage of Spirit Transformation.

When the second question fell, it fell to the First Stage of Spirit Transformation.

When the third question fell, Xu Zhangqing only felt his Qi sea as if grasped by an invisible hand and violently twisted, his magical power compressed to the limit, law power collapsing layer by layer, the comprehended Dao rhyme becoming blurred and indistinct.

His cultivation thoroughly broke through Spirit Transformation, stopping at Nascent Soul!