Chapter 255: A Dialogue Across Hundreds of Thousands of Years
Subsequently, the group arrived before the tomb of "Kunlun Mountain Guardian, Lu Ming".
"Father..."
Xiao Luo knelt before the tomb, her fingertips gently stroking the cold surface of the stele.
She murmured in a low voice, the sound so light it was almost inaudible.
The soil layer was carefully pushed aside, revealing a box slightly smaller than the other jade boxes.
The body of the box had no gorgeous decorations, only a few simple cloud patterns, glowing with a warm luster as if it had been frequently stroked by someone.
The instant the lid was lifted, a wisp of fresh breeze suddenly overflowed from the box, carrying a faint scent of pine ink.
—A three-foot green blade lay quietly in the box. The sword body was as clear as autumn water, and a small piece of Kunlun Jade was inlaid at the guard, with starlight seemingly flowing within the jade. Beside the sword was a green jade slip, but most surprisingly, a yellowed letter was pressed under the jade slip.
Xiao Luo took a deep breath, then slowly picked up the letter paper, seeing written on it—
To My Daughter.
Her hand trembled violently.
After a long time, she finally held the letter up with trembling hands. She immediately felt that the touch of the paper was incredibly soft, as if protected by some kind of Immortal power, remaining undamaged despite the passage of ten thousand years.
The moment the envelope was opened, a wisp of spiritual light drifted out, transforming into specks of starlight in the air.
The handwriting on the letter was clear, steep, and upright, yet it revealed an indescribable tenderness:
My Daughter:
When you read this letter, your father must have long since passed away.
The Great Calamity is approaching, Kunlun is about to collapse, and heaven and earth are about to be overturned.
As the Mountain Guardian, I could have evacuated this realm with the multitude of Immortals. However, thinking of the thousands of living beings remaining in the mountain, I ultimately could not bear to save only myself.
Your mother was seven months pregnant with you. I persuaded her to leave with the people of Jade Void Palace, but she insisted on staying...
She always said she wanted the first thing you saw to be the snow of Kunlun.
The ink marks on the letter paper were slightly smudged in one place, as if the writer had paused there for a long time.
I know you must have resentment in your heart—why did your parents leave you alone in such a world?
But I want to tell you, this was not abandonment, but the deepest expectation.
Although Kunlun falls, the Great Dao is eternal.
The blood of both Immortal and mortal flows within you; this is both a shackle and a key.
If you have the destiny to find this place, the "Mountain Guarding Sword" in the box and the "Kunlun Qi Nourishing Art" in the jade slip are everything your father leaves for you.
There is no need to pursue divine abilities that move mountains and overturn seas; only seek to understand your mind and see your nature, keeping your spiritual platform clear and bright.
Xiao Luo's vision began to blur. Large teardrops smashed onto the letter paper but were held up by a gentle spiritual light, not smudging the handwriting.
Finally, Father wants you to remember three things:
First, that song "Gathering Vetches" your mother loved to sing most when the snow stopped; if you learn it, it will count as inheriting her legacy;
Second, there is a cedar tree I planted personally in the back mountain of Kunlun. Buried under the tree is a jar of Hundred Flowers Wine, originally intended for when you get married... Never mind. If you find it, drink a cup yourself, then pour a cup to pay tribute to the mountains and rivers;
Third—
The letter paper suddenly began to burn at this point; it was not a destructive fire, but brilliant golden Dao patterns. The last few lines became increasingly clear in the firelight:
No matter what path you choose, remember that the love of your parents is not cut off by life or death.
If you look up and see the moon, that is the lamp your father lit for you beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens.
Father: Lu Ming, last words written on the eve of Kunlun's collapse.
"Patter—"
A tear finally penetrated the spiritual light and landed on the signature.
Xiao Luo suddenly curled up her body, clutching the letter tightly to her chest.
Low sobbing sounds echoed in the cemetery, startling a few wisps of drifting mist in the distance.
Chen Xingcai's eyes were red and she wanted to go forward, but she was stopped by Han Yu.
The three silently retreated a few steps, allowing that thin and small figure to tremble violently while crying in front of the tombstone.
Dewdrops on the silver grass fell one after another, as if the entire cemetery were shedding tears with her.
Where the wind passed, the Dao patterns on the letter paper turned into specks of golden radiance, gently dancing around Xiao Luo, and finally condensed into a small spot of light, softly imprinting on the center of her eyebrows.
—That was the last embrace across ten thousand years.
Subsequently, the Mountain Guarding Sword seemed to sense something and emitted a clear and melodious sword hum. The jade slip also glowed with a faint light, transferring a stream of gentle spiritual power into Xiao Luo's body.
"Ah—!"
Xiao Luo suddenly let out a heart-rending scream, and her entire body convulsed as she collapsed kneeling on the ground.
Densely packed black patterns suddenly emerged under her skin, like countless poisonous snakes swimming crazily in her blood vessels.
Even more terrifying was that these black lines seemed to twist and struggle like living things, fiercely confronting the clear light surging out from the jade slip.
The humming of the Mountain Guarding Sword abruptly became urgent, and the Kunlun Jade on the sword body burst forth with blinding green light.
At the same time, the jade slip cracked with a "click", revealing a fine fissure, and boundless spiritual power poured into Xiao Luo's body like water from a burst dam.
"Step back!" Han Yu grabbed Chen Xingcai who wanted to go forward, his sword fingers already condensing True Essence. "Those are not patterns!"
Green light and black lines engaged in a seesaw battle under Xiao Luo's pale skin.
Every time the clear light advanced an inch, the black lines would churn violently like boiling oil.
Xiao Luo's fingernails dug deeply into the cracks of the green bricks; her knuckles turned white from the intense pain, and scarlet streaks of blood seeped from the corners of her mouth.
Suddenly, the clothes on her back tore open with a "rip"—
Three black roots as thick as thumbs burst out of her body!
"What... what plant's roots are these?!" Jiang Che sucked in a breath of cold air.
The surface of those roots was covered with sucker-like protrusions, and at this moment, they were twisting crazily, wanting to drill back into Xiao Luo's body.
The Mountain Guarding Sword suddenly flew into the air; the sword edge, wrapped in the last bit of spiritual power from the jade slip, slashed ruthlessly at the roots!
"Chi—!"
Black fluid splashed, and the broken ends of the roots actually emitted sharp shrieks like babies crying.
The main root that fell to the ground was still twitching, and the crowd finally saw its true appearance clearly—that was not a common plant root system at all, but a bizarre structure formed by countless tiny human faces twisted and entwined together, with every face maintaining a painful expression from before death.
Xiao Luo finally went limp, and the residual black lines on her body dissipated like a receding tide.
She weakly lifted her eyelids, her pupils restoring their long-lost clarity. "So... the so-called blessing... was always..."
Before she finished speaking, she fainted.
The Mountain Guarding Sword embedded itself in the ground beside her with a "clang", and bursts of green smoke rose where the green light on the sword body contacted the residual black fluid.
Han Yu stared at that segment of bizarre root that was still wriggling. Subsequently, his gaze suddenly condensed, revealing a look of sudden realization—then he stared fixedly at a certain corner in the depths of the cemetery.
"I probably know the origin of the so-called Holy Tree of Kunlun Mountain."
Chen Xingcai and Jiang Che looked in the direction of his line of sight and saw a low tombstone standing solitarily at the edge of the cemetery.
Compared to the other solemn and respectful Immortal tombs, this tombstone appeared exceptionally crude—crookedly carved on the blue-gray stele face was:
Kunlun Mountain Crooked Neck Tree, Tomb of Daoist Kurong.
Even more hair-raising was that the sealing soil in front of this tomb had long since been lifted, revealing the empty grave pit below.
There was no jade box, no relics, only a few dried and blackened tree roots coiling at the bottom of the grave like dead snakes...
...
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