My Husband’s Ascension C63
Chapter 63 Madness
Zhao Zhao could more or less guess why she had been drawn into this place.
“It’s you, little girl…”
“It hurts… it hurts… I’m going to vanish…”
“White Citadel of Jade…Twelve Towers… I see it, I see it…”
(TLN: White Citadel of Jade, also known as White Jade Capital (Bai Yujing; 白玉京), is one of the Nine Heavens Immortal Domains and traditionally symbolizes the celestial palace of immortals. It is organized under the structure of Five Cities and Twelve Towers (十二楼五城).)
“The body and its parts dissolved; perceptive organs discarded…leaving my material form, bidding farewell to my knowledge…farewell…”
(TLN: This verse comes from the ‘Zhuangzi (莊子)’, specifically the chapter ‘The Great and Most Honoured Master (大宗師)’. It refers to a state achieved in quiet sitting where one forgets both self and external things, dissolving the distinction between subject and object, and merging with the Dao.)
Within the human pillar, familiar and deranged voices were tangled together. Merely hearing them was enough to make one’s skin crawl.
Yet Zhao Zhao knew they were not madmen.
They were innocent souls, deceived by Mount Ling, trapped within this prison for tens of thousands of years, unable to find release. And with that understanding, fear did not take root in her heart, only a quiet sympathy.
“Why did you pull me in?” she demanded. “Give me a reason.”
She should have been able to leave without alerting Wu-Shaman Xian. But now she had been dragged into this place, with Wu-Shaman Xian cultivating through the human pillar, she would certainly sense Zhao Zhao’s presence.
Were the souls inside simply lost to madness…
Or did they want something from her?
“Finally… finally… the Heavenly Dao has tipped…last chance…”
A streak of white light darted close, almost pressing against Zhao Zhao’s face as it spoke those broken, indistinct words.
At first, Zhao Zhao could still grasp what it meant. But as more and more drifting souls within the human pillar gathered around her, as the surging spiritual power rushed in with a force that threatened to swallow her whole, she suddenly understood.
The Heavenly Dao has tipped from balance.
Was it because Wu-Shaman Xian was cultivating through the human pillar, and thus the pillar received the Heavenly Dao’s sanction, allowing a fleeting moment of clarity to seek help?
No… it was not merely help.
“Don’t… all at once…”
Since awakening, Zhao Zhao had lacked sufficient qi to cultivate. Day after day, she struggled to draw in only the barest trickle of spiritual energy, just enough to survive.
But now, the power flooding toward her was so abundant she could not possibly absorb it in one breath.
She was forced to resist with her very soul, fighting the torrent within her, lest she die on the spot.
Was this meant to transfer spiritual energy to her, or to send her to her death?!
“Faster…faster… Three Thousand Million World…you must save him… or else become like us…”
Who is ‘him’?
She herself was on the verge of death, how could she spare a thought for anyone else?
Suspended within the golden human pillar, Zhao Zhao’s consciousness blurred, sinking ever deeper into darkness. And so she did not see the faint outlines of four figures appearing at the very top, watching her from afar, sending her off with one final look.
…
Time passed; how long, she could not tell.
The chaotic spiritual power rampaging through her body finally began to settle. Zhao Zhao’s mind cleared somewhat, and she turned her attention to her surroundings.
It was a space of utter darkness.
Not the darkness of blindness, but a void where darkness itself was all that existed.
With the understanding that the elders inside the human pillar, even in madness, truly wished her harm, Zhao Zhao remained relatively calm. Moreover—
She reached inward, sensing her own soul.
After enduring that agony that had nearly torn her apart, an unprecedented, vast reservoir of spiritual power now brimmed within her spirit. Zhao Zhao could not even begin to estimate what great realm she had reached.
Only now did she understand why true powerhouses could face anything with such tranquil composure.
With sufficient strength to rely upon, one really could become fearless.
Zhao Zhao steadied herself and carefully recalled the fragmented words those seniors had spoken.
What, precisely, does ‘Three Thousand Million World’ mean…?
Who were they asking her to save?
Who was destined to become like them?
Zhao Zhao pondered for a long while, and the very first name that sprang to mind was:
Could it be Yao Ling?!
(TLN: Pronouns (her;她 / him;地 / it;它) in Chinese are all pronounced the same, just written differently. In other words, they are homophones, same as ‘there’, ‘their’, and ‘they’re’. Which is why there is a misunderstanding here.)
Just now, she had been forcibly flooded with immense spiritual power, brought to the brink of death. Who knew what state her physical body was in now? Yao Ling would surely have sensed something.
Xie Lanshu could protect himself, but he would not have the leisure to shield Yao Ling and Rong Yu. Those two children were the ones truly in danger.
Zhao Zhao paced back and forth within this space.
Yao Ling had revealed astonishing talent, and she carried the bloodline of Mount Ling. Mount Ling would certainly have taken notice of her. If something had truly happened to her—
Zhao Zhao would never forgive Mount Ling!
Her surging spiritual power burst outward in all directions.
Simultaneously, a crack echoed as the confined space fractured.
Zhao Zhao snapped back to herself and sprinted toward the fissure. With every step she took, the pitch-black void fractured inch by inch, until at last it collapsed with a thunderous roar.
Beyond the shattered space stood a familiar figure.
On the golden altar, Wu-Shaman Xian opened her eyes, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face.
…
Xie Lanshu could no longer remember how many small worlds he had passed through.
In no more than the time it took an incense stick to burn, he had already lived through at least three hundred and seventy-two different deaths of Xie Tanzhao, five hundred and seventy-nine paths in which she had never even met him—
and among them, there was even one branch where he had personally crippled her cultivation.
His mind was force-fed an infinitely compressed torrent of Three Thousand Million World. Each world churned with emotions so violent they nearly suffocated him, wrenching his sanity to the brink of collapse, hanging by a single thread.
It was through experiencing these Three Thousand Million Worlds that had driven those great powers into madness.
The only thing still anchoring Xie Lanshu’s faltering consciousness was the spirit-storing pouch in his hand.
Within it, the spiritual tree had already turned to dust, lying quietly in his palm.
…He could not go mad.
There was still someone, someone he had to save.
But…
Who was it?
Who was it he had to save?
Standing upon a mountain ridge bathed in moonlight, the tall figure bent slightly forward. Those clear, crystal-glazed eyes had lost all focus, resting emptily on the far distance. He seemed like a jade-carved divine statue: flawless, yet utterly without a soul.
It was at that moment that Zhao Zhao found him.
At first, she meant to slip directly into the spirit-storing pouch in his hand. Yet she quickly realized that within this small world, she could not use spiritual power to mend her true body, already shattered into drifting dust.
With no better choice, Zhao Zhao wandered through the void, searching for the version of herself that existed here, hoping she might take refuge within her own form.
Only then did she discover this world was, by some cruel coincidence, the very ‘future’ Zhongli Lanruo had once shown her.
Tonight should have been her wedding night with that newly appointed jìnshì.
After possessing this Zhao Zhao, she hurriedly drove the groom out. She did not even have time to change her clothes before rushing straight into the night to find him.
Breathless, Zhao Zhao stepped forward and caught hold of his arm.
“This ‘Three Thousand Million World’ was set up by Wu-Shaman Xian. I suspect those great powers who were only a single step from ascension were imprisoned here at the moment their minds were weakest. Their sanity was worn away, and only then were they made into human pillars. If we don’t leave at once, you’ll end up the same…”
She tugged at him, yet he did not move an inch.
Only then did Zhao Zhao realize in this small world, she was nothing more than an ordinary mortal of Yunmeng Pier. Without cultivation, without spiritual power, of course she could not possibly pull Xie Lanshu away.
The next instant, her hand was seized instead, gripped so tightly it almost hurt.
His voice was low, hollow. “Who am I?”
Zhao Zhao’s heart lurched. She stared into his eyes, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. “What did you say?”
“Do you know…” His gaze fixed on her, searching. “Who I am?”
A cold shock ran through Zhao Zhao.
He had already begun to lose himself.
Though Zhao Zhao had no idea what he had endured in this world, remembering the mad, rambling voices within the human pillar made her think: at the very least, he was not beyond saving yet.
Recalling the identity he held in this small world, she ventured carefully, “You are Dao Lord Tianshu of the Cultivation Realm. Don’t you remember?”
His unfocused gaze settled on her.
The young woman before him wore a vivid bridal gown, brilliant against the night like a phoenix tree (royal poinciana) in full bloom, splendid, radiant, almost painfully bright.
“...Who are you?” he asked.
“No one, just an ordinary person from Yunmeng Pier.”
He released her hand at once, turning aside as though her touch had never been there. “You are not the one I am waiting for. Leave.”
Zhao Zhao’s eyes widened, disbelief flashing across her face at his sudden withdrawal at such a critical moment.
Did he even understand what he was doing?
She was about to speak again, to force some sense into him, when she saw a mass of black mist begin to gather.
“How did you intrude upon this place?” Wu-Shaman Xian cut straight to the point, her gaze sharp and hostile as it swept over Zhao Zhao. Plainly, she was utterly astonished that Zhao Zhao had managed to break into this place.
This ‘Three Thousand Million World’ was a secret treasure of the Buddhist Kingdom in the west, something that could only be opened once every thousand years.
It was meant to be used only when victory was assured, reserved for the fifth human pillar. But Xie Lanshu was far too powerful, his pursuit far too relentless. Left with no choice, she had activated this millennial mechanism early, intending to eliminate the greatest threat before it was too late.
Yet she had never imagined that a second person could enter as well.
Wu-Shaman Xian’s instincts screamed that this was a dangerous variable.
Zhao Zhao shared her sentiments exactly.
To face Wu-Shaman Xian alone was hardly a wise decision. Who knew what other strange methods she might still possess?
“Refusing to speak? Very well, Xie Tanzhao. Then take your secrets with you, and be tormented to death within the Three Thousand Million World…”
A sweep of sword light tore through the boundless night, flashing like lightning as it cleaved toward Wu-Shaman Xian.
Wu-Shaman Xian’s expression tightened. Whether she had not expected Xie Lanshu to strike so suddenly, or whether her control of the art was imperfect, she failed to withdraw in time.
The sword light sliced through her sleeve.
Blood immediately welled, winding down her arm in a thin, crimson trail.
Zhao Zhao exhaled, tension easing slightly.
Thankfully, he had not lost himself entirely.
“You’re Xie Tanzhao?” The youth blocking her path suddenly turned, his previously unfocused gaze snapping to a fixed point, anchoring itself on her face with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.
Zhao Zhao, however, kept her eyes on the figure behind him: Wu-Shaman Xian.
Wu-Shaman Xian had a tangible body; he could have seized this moment to strike. Perhaps when she weakens, even this Three Thousand Million World might fracture, creating a way out.
“Don’t look at me, look at her! Hurry, she’s trying to escape!”
Zhao Zhao’s heart ached to dash forward, but Wu-Shaman Xian had long anticipated her thoughts.
She did not relish battle, nor would she ever allow Xie Lanshu a second chance to strike. In the blink of an eye, she transformed into a swirl of black mist, vanishing before Zhao Zhao’s eyes.
Disappointment flooded Zhao Zhao.
How were they to leave this place now?
“Found you—”
A soft voice drifted from behind and the scent of sarcodactylis and acronychia pedunculata enveloped her from all directions.
It took her a long moment to realize: this was an embrace.
“I’ve been waiting… always waiting for you to find me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… everything in the pouch… it’s all gone. How can I save you? How can I restore you?” His words repeated like a dreadful nightmare, each syllable trembling on the edge of collapse. His unfocused eyes quivered as if they might shatter into pieces that could never be mended.
Zhao Zhao lowered her gaze to the spirit-storing pouch clutched tightly in his hands.
The spiritual tree had not turned to powder because she had died, it was the torrent of spiritual energy poured into her body that had nearly torn her soul apart. Her body could not possibly withstand such force.
“It’s alright. I can restore myself.” She turned to face him. Being a head shorter than Xie Lanshu, she had to cup his face in her hands to make him bow his head, meeting her gaze directly. “You must find yourself again. Only then can we leave, only then can I truly return to life. Do you understand?”
His eyes, clear and translucent as polished glass, held her gaze unwaveringly.
Her figure burned in his sight like a slowly kindling flame.
“Xie Lanshu, no matter what you have seen in the Three Thousand Million World, no matter what you have endured, even if those far mightier than you have gone mad here, you cannot go mad. I will not allow it, understand?”
His arms wrapped around her like harmless serpents, coiling with careful precision, echoing her every word. “I will not go mad.”
“Yes.”
“Because… you forbid me from going mad.”
“Exactly.”
“Is the name ‘Xie Lanshu’… bestowed to me by you?”
Zhao Zhao paused for a heartbeat, then nodded.
“I understand now…” A smile, gentle and like spring’s first breeze, unfurled across his refined, elegant features, yet his embrace tightened incrementally. Akin to a water snake curling around its prey, restrained, trembling slightly, unwilling to crush something so precious.
“Then hold me fast, Master.”
.
.
.
Author’s Note:
Zhao Zhao: Has he really not lost his mind? Only time will tell.
TL Note: Again, in this context, ‘Master’ refers to ‘owner/mistress’, not ‘teacher’.
