Chapter 658

– I Can Still Eat, No?
Translated by: Hypersheep325
Edited by: Michyrr
The Tianhai Divine Empress’s soul was tens of thousands of li away, her Daoist technique was in Luoyang, and her body was in the thunderclouds. One against three, three Saints.
What remained on the peak of the Mausoleum of Books was her original body.
Even if she was the strongest person in the world, it could be presumed that under the condition where she was fighting three Saints, she had no means of producing any more strength to deal with any other enemies.
In other words, the her on the peak of the Mausoleum of Books was currently in the most defenseless state. If someone were to attack her original body, there was a chance of wounding her.
Tonight, many experts had come to the Mausoleum of Books.
They had still not entered the Divine Domain, and normally, they could not pose the slightest threat to the Tianhai Divine Empress, but now was different.
Of course, they first needed to ascend the Divine Path to the peak of the Mausoleum of Books.
But Han Qing sat below the Divine Path, just as he had for the past six hundred years.
Han Qing was very old.
He was a Divine General of the same generation as Qin Zhong and Yu Gong. He had sat in the Mausoleum of Books for six hundred years, his body covered in dust and speckled with rust, but could he still possibly withstand the collective attacks of these experts of the present era?
This was a question worth pondering, but he was clearly not considering it, because he was eating.
The green peppers fried with dried meat all come from that yard. He quietly ate, seriously ate, perhaps thinking about how two years ago, Xun Mei had stepped upon the Divine Path.
Based on what he had said earlier, it was precisely because Xun Mei had attempted to intrude upon the Divine Path on that night in pursuit of the truth that he had finally put down everything and broken into the Divine. Then, was this food a recollection?
No, this recollection fell in the even more distant past, because that elderly face had even deeper emotions.
The experts of the world had gathered, but he was quietly eating. Did this sort of disregard signify absolute self-confidence or something else?
Two years ago, when Xun Mei had stepped upon the Divine Path to meet his death, Mao Qiuyu had been outside the Mausoleum of Books. He had personally seen his junior brother die, but now, there was no emotion on his face.
The girl called Mu Jiushi, on the other hand, had a few hints of anger on her face. As for those concealed experts belonging to the noble clans and sects, who were now coming out of the darkness, they also began to grow angry.
The Qis of these experts, carrying their rage, gathered in front of the Divine Path.
Han Qing had no reaction. He was still calmly, silently eating as if this cold food was the world’s most precious object.
In the river outside the Mausoleum of Books, the monoliths were shattered into pieces and scattered about the ground.
Wuqiong Bi stood amongst these broken monoliths, the resentment on her face gradually transforming into vigilance and unease, and ultimately, fear.
Tonight, of the Storms of the Eight Directions that had come to the Mausoleum of Books, Zhu Luo and Guan Xingke had died while Bie Yanghong was heavily injured. Only she still had her complete strength.
Earlier, when her husband had been heavily injured, she truly had been furious to the extreme and wished to attack. Even if Han Qing displayed an incomprehensible strength, with the assistance of those experts in the darkness, she believed that she could defeat him. However…no matter how hateful and harsh her gaze, Han Qing did not even glance at her.
Han Qing quietly ate.
The spear quietly rested by his side.
Thus, she began to fear.

Help me up.

Bie Yanghong lay amidst the broken monoliths, his face extremely pale, his breathing extremely weak, but his voice was still as calm as usual, containing an admirable strength.
He gazed up at the peak of the Mausoleum of Books, his gaze resting on the Tianhai Divine Empress’s figure, tinged with confusion and pain.
On the Tianhai Divine Empress’s clothes was a slightly moist red petal. On her sleeve were several small holes made by ten-odd shooting stars.
In that bitter battle in the span of a single breath, he was one of the participants, and he clearly understood that these were the gifts left behind by Guan Xingke’s death and his heavy injuries.
He also noticed one other problem.
Wuqiong Bi helped him up, the horsetail whisk in her hands faintly shaking, just like her voice.
Let’s just go.


Tonight, since I’ve already come here, I had no thoughts of leaving alive.

Bie Yanghong calmly said, and then his fingers began to tremble.
The string hanging from his pinkie finger swished into the air, wrapping several times around his fingers.
He was so heavily injured that he didn’t even have the strength to make a fist, so he tied all his fingers, binding them into a sort of fist.
This fist struck at the dried-up river bed.
Boom.
This seemingly feeble fist punched a massive hole in the river bed, so deep that its bottom couldn’t be seen, and the rushing of water came from below.
When the Imperial Design moved, the river dried up and the stones appeared. Now, with the breaking of the Imperial Design and the departure of the awe-inspiring array energy, there was no more strength to maintain the current sight.
With a gurgling of water, countless springs bubbled out of the ground. In an instant, the riverbed was drowned once more, soaking the shoes of him and Wuqiong Bi.
Wuqiong Bi knew what he wanted to do. Her face grew even paler, yet she could speak no words of objection.
The springs madly surged, causing the river level to rise with visible speed. Accompanied by the thunder and lightning from high up in the sky, the sight seemed extremely bizarre.
A somewhat despairing shriek burst from Wuqiong Bi’s lips.
She and Bie Yanghong stood atop the water, two Qis exuding from their bodies and instantly enveloping the entire river.
The Qi exuded from her body was of silent extinction, blue-green ripples in which no life existed.
The Qi exuded from Bie Yanghong’s body, however, was incomparably fresh and clean, containing the infinite and boundless energy of life.
The waters of the river finally poured over its stone embankments and flowed into the Mausoleum of Books, slowly and inexorably surging towards the Divine Path.
As the water flowed, green leaves began to sprout. In the span of a few breaths, they completely covered the surface of the water, a limitless stretch of lotuses.
Soon after, this green lotus sea began to bloom with countless delicate lotus blossoms.
The lotus sea seemed to flaunt itself in the breeze, the lotus blossoms dazzling amidst the thunder and lightning.
Lotus leaves that span to heaven, Wuqiong Bi.
The red sun of lotus blossoms, Bie Yanghong.
(TN: This is actually a line from a poem by Song Dynasty poet Yang Wanli called 晓出净慈寺送林子方, which can be translated as ‘Dawn at Jingci Temple, Sent to Lin Zifang’. The translation of the line is ‘Lotus leaves that span to heaven, endless green. The red sun of lotus blossoms, a special shade of red.’ Wuqiong Bi’s and Bie Yanghong’s names are the ends of their respective lines.)
The Mausoleum of Books was covered in water.
Mao Qiuyu stood to one side in the water, his expression solemn, his two sleeves dancing.
Two sleeves of breeze stirred up and blew across.
Lotus leaves were constantly flying, lotus blossoms lightly swaying. Lightning illuminated the world, moisture condensed into mist. All this combined into a scene so beautiful as to seem unreal, a fairyland.
The fairyland had come to the Divine Path.
Han Qing was still eating, eating with great seriousness.
Cooking food was a matter of the human world, and he went from the Mausoleum of Books to the human world of the past.
Bie Yanghong wanted him to return to a fairyland that paid no mind to mundane matters, leaving him with no heart to prevent anyone stepping upon the Divine Path.
The sky of lotus leaves and lotus blossoms attacked his Dao heart.
What would Han Qing choose?
Finally, he placed down the lunchbox.
Not because he had no means of dealing with Bie Yanghong’s challenge, but because he had finished the food.
He extended his hand to grip the spear and then gazed into the depths of the lotus sea.
Bie Yanghong was in the depths of the lotus sea. His body was drenched in blood and his face was pale, yet he was very calm.
He wanted to kill Tianhai, the people of the world wanted to kill Tianhai, so they had to ascend the Divine Path.
At this moment, he was burning up his true essence and cultivation. Even if he could defeat Han Qing, he would probably have no means of continuing to live.
He did not care, because he had originally come to meet his death.
The path of meeting death was his Dao, his straight Dao.
To walk according to one’s Dao meant that one would never get lost in the lotus sea, would never shrink back in fear. His blood-drenched self was clear-cut in the darkness, just like the red flowers amidst the green leaves.
But he did not attack, because he was waiting for the final opportunity.
Waiting for the stream bank near Xining Village’s old temple, waiting for the old monastery in Luoyang, waiting for the dark clouds above the earth to scatter.
He raised his head, calmly gazing at the dark clouds.
Everyone gazed up there.
Thunder constantly rumbled, lightning crackled, the dark clouds twisted, the winds erupted.
That place was really not a part of the human world.