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INE Chapter 112: Life and Death
🕑 Added 2025-06-24 08:22:13 +0000 UTCA red kasaya swept over a field of blooming green lotuses, vivid as cinnabar.
The newcomer had a gentle expression, a string of bodhi beads wrapped around his wrist, it was Kongji.
Several young novice monks followed behind him, each holding a wooden mallet, rhythmically striking circular wooden fish.
The resulting sound was clear and lingering.
The lotus petals that formed a canopy over their heads began to slowly close in, drawn by the resonance.
Gu Baiyi frowned slightly at the sight of the novices striking the wooden fish and whispered to Ji Rong, “Senior Sister, it’s the Brahma Sound Formation.”
The Brahma Sound Formation was an ancient array created by the ancestors of the Bodhi Sect. It was originally used as the great mountain-guarding formation of Zhou Mountain.
Although the array laid by Kongji today lacked the limitless might of its ancient predecessor, the setup alone made it clear that it was arranged by someone well-versed in formation arts.
Ji Rong understood this and nodded. “It must have taken considerable effort to set this up. Kongji came prepared.”
Judging by the Dharma patterns etched into the Chixiao Sword, she guessed that when Kongji placed the sword into the chessboard, he must have cast a spell capable of tracking whoever came into contact with it.
That explained why, on that night, she had seen a Dharma seal on the bracelet containing the Chixiao Sword.
That Kongji had tracked them here was within expectations. But the figure standing beside him caught Ji Rong off guard.
The woman was clad in ceremonial robes woven with golden and silver threads, a strange, old-fashioned pocket watch hanging from her neck, an item no one in the cultivation world could quite understand.
The watch’s dark gold casing was slightly rusted, but against her pitch-black robes, it gave her an oddly solemn and enigmatic air.
Separated by the barrier of lotus petals, Mei Lixue gazed coldly at Ji Rong and Gu Baiyi.
“You cannot escape the Heavenly Dao." she said.
So edgy.
Ji Rong nearly laughed aloud.
That statement made it sound like she and the Heavenly Dao were old friends.
Lifting the Cangming Sword, Ji Rong looked at Mei Lixue and said calmly, “Saintess, everyone walks their own path. What gives you the right to invoke the Heavenly Dao to kill others?”
“I don’t have that right." Mei Lixue replied coolly. “But the Heavenly Dao has decreed her death.”
Ji Rong smiled. “Then let me rephrase. What right does the Heavenly Dao have to kill her?”
Mei Lixue’s expression did not change. “If the Heavenly Dao wishes to strike her down, it naturally has its reasons. Where does your confidence come from, that you dare defy the Heavenly Dao?”
Ji Rong hadn’t expected to change Mei Lixue’s mind. She turned to Kongji and asked, “Master, you’re a venerable monk who long ago withdrew from worldly affairs. Why have you come here today?”
Kongji sighed. “Laywoman, I have indeed stayed out of worldly matters for many years. But a century ago, I accepted the Shanhe Chessboard at the secret request of Sect Leader Mei.”
“At that time, I worked with Benefactor Gong to lay the Brahma Sound Formation, barely managing to seal the sword. The array is intricate and powerful, even cultivators in the Infinite Realm would find it difficult to break and retrieve the Chixiao Sword.”
“But the person beside you could summon the Chixiao Sword as if the array didn’t exist…”
Mei Lixue picked up where he left off, her voice frosty. “Which means she is the sword’s next wielder, just like Chu Changli, destined to bring chaos to the world.”
Gu Baiyi said nothing, but met her gaze steadily.
The accusation of being a “Heavenly Demon Seed” had already been pinned on her twice by the Divine Sect.
If the Divine Sect truly spoke for the Heavenly Dao, then she truly could not understand why the Dao was so determined to see her dead.
Ji Rong’s brow twitched. “Destined to bring chaos? That hasn’t happened. Who can say what the future holds?”
Mei Lixue retorted, “The Heavenly Dao sees the past and foresees the future. All things lie within its grasp, what can it not know?”
Right. And I suppose the Heavenly Dao handed you a chicken feather and called it a divine decree.
Ji Rong couldn’t be bothered to argue with Mei Lixue and her endless chants of “Heavenly Dao.” But Gu Baiyi unexpectedly asked, “If the Heavenly Dao knows all, then where is it?”
Her tone was earnest, but her eyes were cold, tinged with scorn.
For once, Mei Lixue fell silent.
Though she was the Heavenly Dao’s chosen emissary, she did not know where it resided.
To her, the Heavenly Dao was a lofty, unknowable presence.
Her mother, Mei Shu, had spoken to her of the Heavenly Dao while she was still an infant.
The Heavenly Dao, she said, governed all things, granted life and spiritual power. Because of it, cultivators could ride the wind and soar through the heavens.
She had once asked: Where does the Heavenly Dao dwell?
Her mother had only handed her a round, dark-gold object and said, I don’t know where the Dao resides either. But this is the token it left us. Only open it when absolutely necessary.
As the next Saintess of the Divine Sect, Mei Lixue had watched the stars night after night.
Wearing that cold, golden object, she had once imagined: Perhaps the Heavenly Dao is a star, one that stands high above, watching the world in silence.
Later, when she grew older, she’d heard the legends of the Immortal Scattering Flowers and scoffed at them on the surface, though secretly she believed a little.
Perhaps the Heavenly Dao lived beyond the known world, in that vast tower where all mortals raised their eyes in reverence.
Recalling all this, Mei Lixue hesitated, then finally answered, “The Heavenly Dao is beyond this world… but also within my heart.”
Well then. Deep in the heart, what a poetic way to avoid the question.
Ji Rong, already sensing Mei Lixue’s devotion, turned to Gu Baiyi and said, “She’s been brainwashed. Let’s ignore her and break the formation.”
Gu Baiyi didn’t quite understand what “brainwashed” meant, but she had a rough idea of what Ji Rong was implying.
Mei Lixue didn’t catch the exact meaning of the term either, but she could tell it wasn’t something flattering.
Hearing them talk so brazenly about breaking the formation, she let out a mocking smile.
The Brahma Sound Formation was created through the combined efforts of Kongji and Gong Yu, even Infinite Realm cultivators would be hard-pressed to escape it. Did they really think it could be broken so easily?
Yes, the two before her were indeed exceptionally gifted, having reached the Stepping on the Moon Realm at such a young age.
But so what? Their cultivation was right there for all to see.
The Heavenly Demon Seed would die here today.
But just as Mei Lixue came to that conclusion, Gu Baiyi pulled out a jade flute.
Its surface was engraved with thirty-two lotus petals, undeniably the Lotus Flute crafted by Madam Mo three hundred years ago.
Kongji’s eyes widened at the sight.
That flute had belonged to Bai Yushuang, the Left Guardian of the Demon Sect, why would it be in Gu Baiyi’s hands?
His astonishment only deepened a moment later.
Gu Baiyi raised the flute to her lips and began to play.
Mei Lixue might not have recognized the melody, but Kongji had once fought in the War to Destroy Evil, he would never forget this song for the rest of his life.
It was “Jinse.”
“Jinse” was a composition written by the former head of the Tianyin Division, Yan Haiyao. It was also the final piece Chu Changli played in her last battle.
Kongji looked at Gu Baiyi, his expression dazed.
He had always cherished talent. Ever since Chu Changli fell, he often lamented how truly gifted she had been.
Yet when war loomed on the horizon, he was the one who led the charge to eliminate evil.
Because if the fall of one person could bring peace to the world, then no matter how extraordinary they were, the world would still hunt them down without mercy.
Kongji stood in the distance, staring intently at Gu Baiyi.
If this person really had a connection to Chu Changli, then he would have no choice but to act.
The mournful sound of the xiao drifted across the heavens, lingering for a long time.
The piece “Jinse” was heart-wrenching, its sorrow so deep it stirred the spirits of the dead. Even the ghostly jiao beneath the netherworld wept, circling the drifting clouds in a sorrowful dance.
Far away atop Western Mountain, Bai Yushuang also heard the sound of the xiao.
She had been practicing swordsmanship on Phoenix Terrace. When the music reached her ears, her expression changed drastically.
Her grip faltered, and she accidentally sliced off a flower branch.
Bai Yushuang had never been sentimental about flowers, except for the phoenix blossoms Chu Changli had once planted. She cherished those.
Staring at the fallen blossom on the ground, she bent down to pick it up, her fingers trembling slightly.
She could recognize that the tune had been played with the Lotus Flute. And she had given that xiao to only one person.
The day the new Demon Lord took the throne, Bai Yushuang had personally handed over the Lotus Flute.
Because on that day, when Gu Baiyi donned that elegant, icy robe, she had gazed at her, not with any discernible emotion, but with a look so strikingly familiar.
That look was exactly like someone from her past.
As the memories surged back, Bai Yushuang's silver sword slipped from her hand.
She looked toward the dimly lit demon hall, her expression dazed. “Sister Chu… is that you?”
…
The Brahma Music Formation was constructed with the five tones and twelve rhythms, and only music could break it.
And “Jinse” was the pinnacle of Yan Haiyao’s life’s work, its power was naturally extraordinary.
A crack appeared on one of the lotus petals.
Then, dozens, hundreds, of fracture lines spread across it.
The young monks stopped striking their wooden fish and instead stared blankly at the golden bell shield, which was now on the verge of shattering into countless shards.
What should they do now?
At that moment, Mei Lixue’s expression grew very strange.
A mere cultivator at the mid-stage of Stepping on the Moon Realm could shake the Brahma Music Formation alone?
She looked at Kongji, her face expressionless. “Master Kongji, is this the formation you and Elder Gong designed together?”
Kongji’s expression was equally conflicted.
After a moment, he took off the prayer beads wrapped around his wrist and tossed them toward the cracking lotus petal.
A burst of Buddhist light shone from the lotus, erupting in a radiant golden glow that swiftly restored the crumbling bell shield.
On the other side, Gu Baiyi lowered the Lotus Flute after finishing “Jinse.”
She tilted her head slightly to look at the prayer beads suspended on the lotus petal.
One thought contains ninety ksanas. And in one ksana, there are nine hundred cycles of birth and death.
Then Gu Baiyi frowned and said softly, “That’s the divine artifact, Samsara.”
Samsara was a sacred relic of the Bodhi Sect, rarely seen in the world.
Only now did she realize it had always been on Kongji’s wrist, yet no one had noticed.
Gu Baiyi couldn’t help but chuckle.
Who would have guessed that a legendary artifact, renowned across the land, had been sitting quietly on Master Kongji’s wrist all this time?
The moment Samsara appeared, Mei Lixue’s expression once again turned cold.
She raised her sword and approached the high tower formed by lotus petals.
But just as she locked eyes with Gu Baiyi through the petals, she suddenly realized Ji Rong was gone.
Where had she gone?
A possibility struck Mei Lixue. She looked up toward the top, where the prayer beads shone with holy light.
There, at the point where the lotus petals converged, stood a figure in flowing white robes, lifting the Cangming Sword and striking down toward the prayer beads of Samsara.
She’s gone mad.
That was the only thought in Mei Lixue’s mind.
Samsara was a sacred Buddhist relic, if one failed to completely destroy it, they would suffer a terrible backlash.
Yet Ji Rong was utterly determined.
She had spent decades refining her swordsmanship within the confines of the chessboard. Her comprehension of swordsmanship had long surpassed what should be possible at the Stepping on the Moon Realm.
Mei Lixue wasn’t wrong. For a disciple of the Wanjian Sect like Ji Rong, destroying such a divine relic was nearly impossible.
But at this moment, Ji Rong raised the Cangming Sword, a faint smile playing at her lips.
But I’m not just Ji Rong.
I’m also the Sword Saint, Yue Qianqiu.
And today, you’re going down.
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