Chapter 296: The Law of Withering and Revival (Requesting Monthly Tickets

This was an enormous garden, spanning over a hundred li in diameter, filled with flora and vegetation rarely seen beyond its borders, along with small bridges, flowing streams, pavilions, and halls.

Yet compared to the exquisite, heavenly purity of the Baitian Pavilion, this place had one distinctive feature—it was extremely ancient.

Whether the bridges or the pavilions and towers, all gave the impression of being on the verge of crumbling and decaying, as if no one had dwelled here for thousands of years, left to rot slowly in time, exuding a peculiar aura like that of an old man nearing death.

“Death energy?”

Wu Xian walked through the garden, plucked a handful of wind to his nose, frowned deeply, and faintly sensed something amiss—as if some force enveloped this area, siphoning the vital essence from all living beings within.

Wu Xian had anticipated this; instantly, a crimson glow surged over his body, flickering like flame, drawn by the pull, flowing toward the garden’s deepest core.

Simultaneously, threads of divine radiance poured down from the heavens above—essence from the countless stars and the Yin Star—like silver rain descending into the garden, appearing profoundly mystical.

With a single step, he activated the spatial-transcending technique, leaping over a hundred li in an instant, arriving at his destination.

It was a garden within the garden, surrounded by ancient stone walls, also covered in the marks of time, yet slightly better preserved than the outer areas—clean, free of dust, as if regularly tended and swept.

Wu Xian gave it a brief glance, then paid it no further attention, stepping inside. The red glow on his body flickered like a candle flame, clearly accelerating its absorption of essence—he was nearing the source.

After walking about a hundred meters, Wu Xian finally halted, his gaze reflecting endless beams of luminous rain, a scene of serene holiness.

At the point where the light rain fell, a plant stood out prominently—it was the Baitian Pavilion’s sacrificial spirit.

It was a gourd vine, only five or six meters long, with sparse leaves, its vines withered and rotten; even bathed in the luminous rain, it could not reverse its decay.

Only the green gourd beneath the yellow leaves remained mysteriously potent, wreathed in wisps of chaotic energy, radiating a sense of danger.

Wu Xian gazed silently at the vine, golden flames dancing in his eyes—he could clearly perceive its weakness and age, yet within the green gourd lay a spark of fire, still brimming with terrifying power, and carrying an aura he recognized, similar to the Rain God’s edict he had encountered in the Void Spirit Realm.

“The law of divine fire?”

Wu Xian murmured, recalling the descriptions Li Shen had given him about the Divine Fire Realm during their Dao discussions.

In essence, it was the first threshold beyond mortal limits; once divine fire ignited within the body, one’s flesh, soul, and spiritual power underwent a qualitative transformation, granting power capable of destroying heaven and earth—far beyond what ordinary Venerable Realm cultivators could resist.

Yet the Divine Fire Realm was not true divinity; its fire was unstable, so lifespan increase was limited, typically allowing one to live around ten thousand years.

Though long, if one failed to break through further, death by old age remained inevitable.

Take this gourd vine—it had existed since the founding of the Baitian Pavilion, at least tens of thousands of years old, far exceeding the usual limit of the Divine Fire Realm; it still survived only by sheer willpower.

Now seeing the sacrificial spirit with his own eyes, Wu Xian realized its condition was worse than he’d imagined—truly, the lamp was out and the oil dry. No wonder, in the original story, the Baitian Pavilion exhausted every means yet failed to revive it and grant it a second life.

It was easy to imagine that without extraordinary fortune or a miracle treasure like an Immortal Herb, this vine could not endure much longer.

“Who are you…”

A weak voice spoke, deep and hoarse like an elder’s.

“I sense no Baitian Pavilion restrictions on you. You are not a disciple of the Baitian Pavilion.”

As he spoke, the green gourd hidden beneath the yellow leaves trembled slightly, spewing more chaotic energy, which condensed and compressed into the shape of a blade.

“Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is why I’m here.”

Ignoring the threat, Wu Xian continued forward, smiling calmly: “Old Gourd—I’ll call you that. Interested in a deal?”

The withered vine twisted slightly; the green gourd’s chaotic energy flickered uncertainly, as if considering. After a long pause, it replied: “Speak.”

“I have a method to extend your lifespan. If fortune favors you, it may even stabilize your divine fire completely and help you break into a higher realm. But the success rate is low—if it fails, you’ll die faster.”

Wu Xian pointed to himself: “But I promise you—if you die because of this, I will protect the Baitian Pavilion and preserve its sacred status.”

“And if you succeed? What do you want?”

The vine asked, showing no doubt about Wu Xian’s ability to protect the Baitian Pavilion—even though in its perception, this strange child was merely a Cave Heaven cultivator.

“Simple. I want the qualification to enter the Ancient Sacred Academy. And you must serve me unconditionally three times… Oh! That green gourd looks decent too. After you break through, it’ll be useless to you—give it to me to store beast milk.”

“Store… beast milk?”

The vine’s voice betrayed astonishment, as if unable to comprehend Wu Xian’s train of thought.

The earlier demands were understandable, but this green gourd contained its divine fire seed, coveted by countless external factions—yet to this one, it seemed merely a container for beast milk.

Thinking this, the vine spirit felt both amused and exasperated; its sluggish thoughts suddenly sharpened.

“One last question: why should I believe you?”

The vine asked, its tone now slightly gentler.

“You don’t need to believe me. Believe yourself.”

Wu Xian raised his hand and touched his forehead, pulling out a blue orb of light and shooting it toward the vine. The vine extended a tendril, caught the orb, confirmed it was harmless, then examined its contents.

“The Law of Withering and Revival?”

The vine’s voice was low, laden with meaning.

“An extraordinary technique. By absorbing vast amounts of death energy, one enters a state of stillness, then transforms that death energy into vitality through a process akin to the phoenix’s rebirth, greatly enhancing the strength of flesh, soul, and spiritual power.”

Combined with one’s foundational cultivation method, this could indeed reignite divine fire, stabilize it completely, and help me reach the True One Realm.”

“Too bad… you came too late. Had you arrived ten years ago, it might have worked. But I am too old—I cannot resist the corruption of death energy. I cannot even succeed in the first step—how then can I extend my life or break through?”

“Not if you’re alone.”

Wu Xian smiled faintly, then sat cross-legged on the spot. The red glow vanished from his body as he began actively drawing in the death energy scattered around the vine.

“But with me? It’s not impossible!”

(End of Chapter)