Chapter 2923: One Life 01

This dual cultivation is not ordinary dual cultivation; it is the fusion of souls and mutual complement of origins, therefore it is also called god cultivation.

In this process, your and Chenshu's three souls and seven spirits will, under the protection of my divine power, intertwine, fuse, and be reshaped.

Because your soul was originally nurtured by Chenshu with his divine blood, based on the Five Elements Divine Tree, sharing the same origin and coexisting with him… perhaps… with this opportunity, you can not only regain your memories as a Little God Lord in the Divine Realm, but also the affection from even earlier…

Genggu chuckled, seeing that Jin Chen seemed a bit embarrassed, and so did not continue.

In short, if this god cultivation goes smoothly, Chenshu's soul will return to its place, and even the memories you have sealed or forgotten from long ago will also return.

Upon hearing this, Jin Chen even appeared flustered before Genggu, asking about every detail, no matter how major or minor.

What needs to be prepared, how exactly the soul fusion is to be done, are there any taboos…

Questions came one after another, urgent and earnest.

Genggu patiently answered, and finally it was decided.

Make your own preparations; the barrier will reopen in seven days.

——

Over the seven days, Jin Chen meticulously healed the old wounds in his soul, basically spending the time in meditation.

Ling Gun Gun did not come to bother him; after staying a while with Bai Ze, it entered and lay quietly in Jin Chen's resting room, sometimes sleeping, sometimes watching him with eyes open.

On the third day, Bai Ze pushed the door open and placed a withered leaf in Jin Chen's palm.

That was a fallen leaf of the divine tree, which Bai Ze had collected for many years.

Jin Chen lowered his gaze and looked at it for a long time; the withered leaf slowly turned a faint green in his palm, like after a thousand years of sleep finally awaiting a spring rain.

The seventh day.

The barrier opened again.

The seven days, spent in waiting and preparation, felt extraordinarily long, yet also as if they passed in an instant.

Genggu sat cross-legged at the core of the formation, his body emanating vast vital energy of the earth's veins, like an unchanging ancient mountain.

Lu Jun, Bai Ze holding Ling Gun Gun, and the heads of the other three departments stood guard a short distance away, their expressions solemn, fixed on the direction of the barrier.

Jin Chen walked in alone.

The door closed behind him, shutting out the Quick Transmigration Bureau's eternal light that knows no day or night.

The interior of the barrier was completely different.

The sight before him was from deep in Jin Chen's memory, belonging to the Divine Realm, belonging to Chenshu's divine palace.

The vaulted ceiling was high and wide, disappearing into unseen depths; twelve sky-reaching pillars stood on either side, the spiritual patterns clinging to their shafts long since dimmed, yet he recognized them.

How could he not recognize them?

That was his former dwelling.

Jin Chen lowered his head and saw that his clothing had, at some point, been changed into the style of a divine robe, with wide sleeves hanging down.

He stepped step by step toward the inner sanctum's depths.

On the couch, a figure slowly sat up.

His Chief God, his Master, the beloved he had sought across life and death, finally about to return.

Jin Chen's steps stopped before the couch; thousands of words turned into a soft call, 'Master…'

He reached out his hand, gently touching Chenshu's cheek, tracing his brows and eyes.

I have come to find you.

Chenshu allowed him to embrace him, lowered his eyes slightly, and placed a hand on his cheek, saying, 'Why are you still so nervous?'

'So… so many lifetimes have passed.'

'I believe in you; you must also believe in me, and believe in Genggu.'

Jin Chen lifted his head in his embrace, his eye sockets warming, his nose touching Chenshu's, feeling each other's warm breath.

'Mm.' Jin Chen closed his eyes and gave a soft reply.

Jin Chen heard Chenshu's heartbeat; across reincarnation, there lay the souls that had fluttered upon their first meeting.

Outside the barrier, Genggu's earth-vein vital force was warm and enduring, continuously pouring into the barrier.

Inside the barrier, the light of the souls gradually approached, made contact, probed, and then merged like milk and water.

Countless fragments of small worlds flickered with light and shadow, joys and sorrows, separations and reunions.

In the fusion, the souls were tempered; memories were completed through retrospection.

Pain and joy, loss and gain.

The barrier's light flowed endlessly; here, time lost its meaning.

——

Jin Chen had a very long dream.

It was an age of war and chaos, with beacon fires everywhere, plague, famine, and great turmoil among mankind.

The rain had fallen for three days.

The grass shed at the alley entrance had collapsed halfway; the leaked rainwater pooled on the ground in shallow puddles, reflecting the overcast sky.

He curled up in the deepest corner of the shed, knees drawn to his chest, making himself into a tiny ball.

He had not eaten for a long time; the burning pain in his stomach had grown numb.

The rain's roar drowned out the distant hooves and faint cries, and also his increasingly ragged breathing.

This alley was too deep, too dark, hiding too much despair and corpses; no one had wanted to enter for a long time.

He knew he was about to die, but it did not make him feel especially fearful.

Death was all too common in this world.

At the far end of the alley lay several already stiff corpses; perhaps tomorrow, or the day after, he would become just like them, part of this rotten corner, then dragged away by some unknown wild dog or something even more terrible.

That would be fine.

He thought in a daze, no longer cold, no longer hungry.

But then a slow, steady footstep sounded, stepping in the standing water, and stopped before him.

He no longer had the strength to lift his head.

"Are you alright?"

He could only struggle, slowly raising his eyes.

The youth stood there, like bamboo that wind and snow cannot bend, his face gaunt, his brow bones deep.

He lowered his head to look at the person curled up under the shelter, "... Can you get up?"

The curled-up person gave no answer.

He could not speak.

No one knows when it started; perhaps he was born that way, or perhaps he lost his voice in some flight from danger.

He had not made a sound for a long time; he merely stared with his dark, deep eyes at the youth.

The youth waited a moment, receiving no answer, but the child before him was so frail that he hesitated a moment and bent down.

Rain fell onto the back of his hand, trickling down between his fingers.

The curled-up person looked at that hand and placed his own hand upon it.

"Let's go," said the young man.

He was led by that hand, walking into the rain-filled sky.

——

He later learned that the youth was called Chenshu.

Chenshu lived in the leaky old house at the end of the alley.

The house was indeed old: the window lattice was askew, the door bolt loose, several tiles broken on the roof, rain dripped through the cracks, collecting in three or four bowls and pots on the ground, drip, drip, ceaseless day and night.

But the interior was clean: the desk was stacked with worn ancient books and paper covered in writing, brush and ink put away in the corner, the inkstone's ink long dried yet still neatly placed.

Chenshu had him sit on the only chair in the house not piled with books, then went to the kitchen to light a fire.

He heard the crackle of the firewood, smelled a faint wisp of smoke, then Chenshu came out holding a bowl of hot water and placed it beside his hand.

"Drink."

He lowered his head, watching the hot water tremble slightly in the coarse pottery bowl, steam rising, scalding his fingertips red, yet he did not let go.

Chenshu sat behind the desk, using the dim light filtering in from outside, continuing to read an old scroll whose edges had frayed from being turned.

That night he slept beside the firewood pile in the kitchen.

Chenshu gave him his old robe; he curled up in the firewood pile, eyes open, lying still for a long time.

This was the first time, since he could remember, that he had slept under a roof.