My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 695 - 452: Better Elevate Yourself (Part 2 in 1)_2

The one-armed woman asked, "Have you seen Wu Buxu's sword?"

"I have seen it. The Sword Intent…" Chen Yi struggled to find the right words, barely managing to squeeze out two, "intense."

At the time, though he spoke irreverently, he never underestimated the Sword Intent of the former number one under heaven. The world believed that Wu Buxu's fall at Dangyang Lake to Xu Qi marked a devastating blow to his cultivation, that his Sword Heart was veiled in dust. Yet for one who cultivates the Sword Dao to witness it firsthand, it was nearly a nirvana of his Sword Heart. After Chen Yi advanced in his own mindset, he found Wu Buxu's Sword Intent even more astonishing. In the past, Wu Buxu achieved Dao through the sword; now, his sword melded with heaven and earth.

Chen Yi sighed, "He's about to ascend to Buddha-hood."

The one-armed woman was profoundly moved. "The world says Wu Buxu has gone mad, but they only know part of the story. They don't understand the rest. Yes, Xu Qi shattered Wu Buxu's Sword Momentum and Thunder Pool, but that instead awakened him to the truth—that the sword was always a part of heaven and earth. Borrowing heaven and earth to wield the sword, he has become incomparable. If Xu Qi were to witness it now, he would certainly be cautious."

Chen Yi couldn't help but ask, "If Wu Buxu returns to his peak, would the true celestial still win, or would it be Wu Buxu?"

"Xu Qi."

She answered without hesitation.

This reply was not unexpected. Chen Yi knew she had once crossed swords with Xu Qi and understood both of these number-one figures under heaven very well.

Still, Chen Yi couldn't dispel his curiosity. "How far is this so-called 'number one under heaven' above the other nine?"

The Sword Armor woman extended one finger.

Chen Yi naturally understood this was her way of judging the strength of top-grade experts. She had once forced the Broken Swordsman ten zhang back with a single strike of the sword.

He grew grave. "As expected of the number one under heaven. You forced him back just one zhang with your sword?"

Upon saying this, Chen Yi thought: Rather than saying Xu Qi was forced back one zhang, it is more shocking that Zhou Yitang managed to force even a true celestial one zhang back.

This alone was proof of the Sword Armor's swordsmanship.

However, not long after Chen Yi spoke, he saw the one-armed woman shaking her head.

"It was not forcing one zhang back."

His eyes lit up with shock: "Ten zhang?!"

Zhou Yitang looked proud and slightly contemptuous. "It was I who stepped back one zhang."

Well, so asking was a waste of time.

Compared to others on the Martial Rankings, Xu Qi had likely transcended into an immeasurable existence. Aside from the enigmatic and reclusive Bodhisattva Sword who once dueled him years ago, no one under heaven could rival him.

"Except for Xu Qi, no one could kill the Wu Buxu of today," Zhou Yitang said, as if reading Chen Yi's mind, "but instead of worrying about that, why don't you first worry about surviving yourself?"

Chen Yi lacked the audacity to speak so boldly and instead asked, "How do I survive?"

"I've spoken to you about this before."

"The state of no sword in the heart, no sword in the hand, a merging of self and object into forgetfulness?" Chen Yi squinted slightly, seeking confirmation.

Zhou Yitang did not deny it.

In those years, it was precisely through these means that she survived, by a serendipitous chance achieving the slaying of three ethereal selves. No shape, no form, no ego—she became what elders called a fearsome half-saint of the younger generation.

Now Chen Yi faced a similar predicament, and he too had grasped the Sword Intent of the Living Sword. It all bore a striking resemblance. As a mentor, even if she could not have her students surpass her, she must at least guide them down a path.

"Merge self with object, attune to the heavens, and step into the Dao that connects with heaven and earth," Zhou Yitang softly murmured, as though recalling Earthly Veil. "As back in the underworld, listen to me…"

Yet before she could finish speaking, Chen Yi raised his hand to interrupt. "With my obsession so deep, you want me to step into the realm of ego-forgetfulness—wouldn't that require severing my lower self?"

Zhou Yitang frowned. "Why not?"

Her words carried no artifice like in the past but rather flowed naturally. Moreover, severing the three corpses was nothing extraordinary. The dire situation loomed just seven days from a likely death. Why cling to old grievances at such a time?

"If I must sever my lower self, I'd rather not survive at all," Chen Yi drawled lazily.

Zhou Yitang retorted coldly, "Then what is your solution?"

Chen Yi glanced across the mountain summit and replied slowly, "I've thought of a better idea."

"Oh?"

"Instead of elevating my mental state to comprehend deeper Sword Intent, I'd rather destroy his state of mind, make him fall from the high mountain," Chen Yi said, circulating his inner breath, then calling out in a sobbing voice, "Brother Wu, you won't live much longer, and neither will I. Let's be companions in the afterlife!"

Preposterous… Zhou Yitang thought.

As she watched Chen Yi prepare to ascend further up the mountain, deep gouges suddenly appeared in the ground as sword qi erupted in all directions.

"Try taking another step!" A voice boomed across the mountain like the toll of a great bell.

Chen Yi glanced back at Zhou Yitang, shrugged, and said helplessly, "See? Lonely old men care too much about appearances."

The one-armed woman's pupils slightly contracted.

Chen Yi shook his head with a faint smile. "In the end, it's one stray thought of dust that births infinite desires. The six senses impure, the seven emotions unyielding."

If Wu Buxu had truly achieved a nirvanic state, he would not confine himself within self-made prisons. He would have long surrendered everything, becoming one with the earth.

In truth, this former number one under heaven had not yet let go.

The one-armed woman offered no response to Chen Yi's words but instead contemplated something else. Over the past few days, this group's path had played out under Min Ning's observations. Apart from Yin Weiyin, all seemed to have made some sort of gain. Yet the earlier divination pointing them to this place was supposed to be Lu Ying's destined opportunity, though its signs had yet to manifest. Could it merely be the heart state of self-and-object forgetfulness?

All at once, Zhou Yitang's gaze sharpened.

It was as if she had sensed something.

Chen Yi, still in the dark, watched as she suddenly turned, her gaze piercing through layers of obstruction to fix upon the Ancestor Master Tablet Tower of the Chongyang Temple.

...…

Heavy clouds loomed overhead, a dense blackness descending upon the lifeless structure.

Since the Daoists of Chongyang Temple met their self-inflicted doom at the Sword Pool, this shadowed tower that enshrined the ancestral tablets of past masters had fallen silent. And yet, as the Sword Pool teetered on collapse, this place exuded a sliver of transcendent aura.

Lu Ying brushed past the threshold, stepping over countless corpses scattered on the ground.

Even after several days, the corpses showed no signs of decay. Their skin, though drained of color, remained luminous and intact, as if they were merely asleep rather than dead.

Chongyang Temple's six hundred years of foundation meant that those left at the Sword Pool were all at the Golden Core Realm, with one foot already across the threshold of ascension. Their bodies were unblemished, uncorrupted, possessing the countenance of immortals, much like the fleshly relics of high monks from the Buddhist Sect who entered nirvana naturally.

Lu Ying found herself unknowingly standing before the ancestral tablets of Chongyang Temple.

She didn't quite know why, but there was an inexplicable sense guiding her here, to this very tower.

It felt like the voice of heaven and earth—something she could hear but not make out, see but not comprehend. What the Daoist texts described as "the greatest sound is rarely heard; the grandest form is without shape" seemed to encapsulate it.

Dozens of spiritual tablet plaques stood solemnly on the altar, representing real immortals from Chongyang Temple's past who ascended. Previously, the Daoists of Chongyang Temple had pleaded for immortals with their blood, only to be answered by two. Both had their spirit tablets placed at the lowest rank. Yet now, as Lu Ying stepped into the tower, the numerous spiritual tablets swayed without wind, humming softly.

It felt as if the immortals were bestowing incredible blessings.

Lu Ying rubbed her eyes and looked again, seeing countless strands of golden radiance naturally flowing out from the spirit tablets. Among the golden brilliance, the highest tablet seemed to depict an immortal standing alone, gently raising a willow branch as drops of sweet dew seemed to scatter downward.

Glimmering golden dew fell from above, washing all in a pure white light. Lu Ying hesitated, unsure whether to reach out and accept this gift, yet the voices grew increasingly urgent, urging her to take it.

On the highest spirit tablet, characters were inscribed: "Wuling Shouzhen True Monarch."

This was the name of Chongyang Temple's opening ancestor master revered for six centuries.

As her mind refocused, the figure of the immortal grew clearer.

In faint whispers, he opened his golden mouth and uttered words:

"The Dao of Heaven and Earth… in the past, I opened the Heavenly Gate to establish unparalleled merit. Now, the Heavenly Gate has crumbled, severing Heaven and Earth. Today, I take on a disciple on behalf of my master. Let this disciple unite with the Dao, merge with the Heavenly Dao, and carry Chongyang Temple's fortune for another six centuries, repaying the debt owed for a twelve-hundred-year calamity..."

Atop Sword Pond Mountain.

Amidst the black clouds that pressed against the city, a single rift began to crack open. A ray of celestial light tore forth, rippling streams of violet qi throughout the heavens and earth.

The immortal formed a hand seal and stretched one hand toward the crown of his head, his eyes cast downward in a sorrowful, compassionate expression as he spoke:

"Please."

The celestial light pierced through the clouds, thunder roared, and lightning crackled, like dragons and serpents clashing in the sky.