Chapter 19
Chapter 19: Broken Bridge·Rain Like Silk Threads, On Yuzhao Mountain the Manifestation Tribulation is Crossed, All Parties Stir
West Lake, Broken Bridge, rain falling like silk threads.
A woman in white stood holding an umbrella, beside her a girl in green whose lively eyes subtly betrayed a serpent's shadow.
Little Green watched the scholar in a blue robe coming toward them, head bowed and arms full of books, and couldn't help tugging at Lady White's sleeve, whispering softly.
"Elder Sister, we have already secretly ensured wealth in his home, and when he fell ill we dissolved a medicinal spring for him."
"Prosperity and safety have both been given. Is this debt of gratitude not repaid enough? It is time to leave."
Lady White raised the umbrella's brim slightly, revealing a stretch of alabaster jawline, her gaze calmly sweeping past the scholar's dampened shoulders.
"Little Green, I know where the line is. Remaining here is only to see with my own eyes that he lives out this life in peace. If I had no sense of propriety, why would I have needed a hundred years of cultivation, learning the etiquette of the mortal world, concealing my true form?"
Her repayment ended at wealth and safety—never once crossing the line by half a step.
To give herself to him? That was the most unnecessary and the most frivolous of choices.
There are many ways to repay a kindness; it need not mean giving oneself.
As for Jiang Linxian, from whom she had received grace—even he had never once raised the subject.
Let alone this scholar before them, who fell ten thousand leagues short of Jiang Linxian.
From ancient times, a demon giving herself to a human had mostly been the stuff of storytellers' mouths, fanciful tales to add a touch of romance, nothing more.
Beneath the bridge, water reflections swayed.
Jiang Linxian lay coiled behind a lakeside stone, silently watching. White scales shimmered faintly in the dark current; not a ripple stirred within his slit pupils.
That scholar must be the one called Xu Xian—or someone like him.
Lady White and Little Green had once shown him kindness in his youth, and he remembered it.
As for how they chose to repay a person's grace, that was their affair.
Jiang Linxian had misread the situation—guided by his past-life wisdom, he had simply assumed Lady White had fallen for Xu Xian.
Yet he did not know that in this world, all things hold variables.
Jiang Linxian slowly sank into deeper waters.
What mattered now was comprehending the golden scripture of the Grand Void Dragon Transformation Chapter within his divine consciousness, and... Manifestation.
For a demon beast in cultivation, once the cultivation was sufficient, one could transform into human form.
Yet not every demon either wished to or was suited to do so.
Though Jiang Linxian had only three hundred years of cultivation, he had already refined the Cross Bone; his physical body had been recast in the Alchemy Furnace and tempered by immortal pills, its strength rivaling a thousand-year great demon.
Manifestation, for him, was less a trial and more a threshold he would sooner or later step across.
With this thought, he lingered no further.
A white silhouette unfurled like ink dissolving in water and glided silently toward the depths of West Lake.
On the bridge above, fine rain fell like gauze.
Lady White tilted her umbrella slightly, just as she brushed past the scholar who walked with lowered head.
A raindrop from the umbrella's rim landed on the scholar's shoulder. He looked up in surprise, catching only a glimpse of pale white fabric turning round the bridge pillar, vanishing into the rain and mist, leaving no trace.
The debt was repaid. The fate was never tied.
How fitting.
****
Sixth month.
Hangzhou, Yuzhao Mountain.
The plum-rain season; a sky thick with dark clouds that bore no resemblance to ordinary weather.
In these recent days Jiang Linxian had gathered his intelligence clearly: compared to a hundred years ago, this was the true end of a dynasty.
At a dynasty's end, the Heavenly Way grew muddled, all moral order collapsed.
The mortal world seethed like a cauldron's boil—famines swept through the years as if hungry ghosts were collecting the harvest, the bones of wandering refugees whitened in the wild; corrupt officials prowled like jackals, harsh governance more ferocious than tigers, marrow ground, bones sucked, nine households in ten emptied from villages and hamlets.
Armed conflict broke out on all sides, smoke of war blotted the sun; where banners passed, one often heard the wailing of ghosts.
Yin and Yang fell out of balance; wicked spirits swarmed; specters haunted the night roads, human traces thinned in the desolate wilds.
Truly it was an age of chaos—deities and Buddhas shut their eyes, demons and monsters held sway.
The reason Hangzhou still managed to maintain order was that Jinshan Temple stood close by, and within the city, there were still men of principle.
One could say that aside from a few isolated places, everywhere else demons were no longer behaving like demons, and people were no longer truly human—ghosts and specters walked openly under the broad light of day, those barely surviving had faces blurred and vacant, like walking corpses.
Most critically of all, Pudu Cihang still had not let him go.
A hundred years later, Jiang Linxian had still glimpsed his own bounty notice—only the appearance and physique depicted on it were now worlds apart from what he had become.
That dead centipede was so fond of devouring him. The moment he gained sufficient power, his first order of business would be to swallow that centipede whole.
It would be the perfect opportunity to borrow for study the Buddhist scripture Pudu Cihang cultivated.
BOOM—
A low peal of thunder rolled out from deep within the clouds, interrupting his thoughts.
Above his head the Tribulation Clouds were growing ever heavier; lightning snaked through the ink-black mass of cloud; the vast might of heaven and earth pressed down in blazing fashion, causing every living creature within a hundred li to feel their hearts tremble.
The Manifestation Tribulation was drawing near.
These extraordinary gathering storm-clouds naturally also drew the attention of countless presences, some open, some concealed, scattered within several hundred li of Yuzhao Mountain—demonic energies, ghost energies, and even a few obscure and unfathomable human-world auras all seemed to send probing intentions drifting in this direction.
Jiang Linxian utterly stilled his mind, casting out every stray thought.
The white-scaled demon form coiled slightly tighter, head raised toward the sky.
The tribulation comes; then cross it.
****
Outside Yuzhao Mountain, undercurrents surged.
Those tribulation clouds, heavy as mountain ranges with lightning flashing within, were like a great stone flung into a stagnant pool.
In this world where demons ran rampant and men lived in fear, they stirred ring after ring of ripples.
30 li to the southeast, the Mass Grave Mound.
A few wisps of shadow thin as smoke seeped out from the crevices of burial mounds, condensing into a vague and hunched human shape; in its eye sockets, pale green ghost-fire flickered.
"So... so pure a demonic energy... hss... still mixed with a trace of... something righteous that makes ghosts uneasy?"
A voice, hoarse as grinding stone, muttered in secret.
50 li to the northwest, Black Grief Cave.
Fetid winds gusted through the cave.
A black leopard with sleek fur and a single horn growing from its brow slowly paced to the cave entrance, eyes locking from afar onto the direction of Yuzhao Mountain, a low rumble rising from its throat.
"Dragon-serpent lineage? This aura... even stranger than that old flood dragon's tribulation-crossing a hundred years back. Pass the word—let the small fry stay sharp, and don't get too close. This lightning... is no simple matter."
It licked its paw. "See if we can pick up a few scales or bone fragments—great for a tonic."
Further still, in shadowed marshes, ruined villages, and broken-down temples...
One by one, intentions—some greedy, some apprehensive, some purely curious—opened like countless eyes in the night, all focused on that stretch of sky growing ever more oppressive.
Some wished to fish in troubled waters. Some came to observe and seek enlightenment. Others had simply been startled by the might of heaven and earth, and trembled with unease.
In Hangzhou city.
Little Green was the first to look toward Lady White.
"Elder Sister!"
Yuzhao Mountain was where they had first encountered Jiang Linxian. Now someone was crossing a tribulation there—even the slimmest possibility was enough to make her heart leap.
"I know—but we cannot intervene in a Tribulation Lightning crossing." Lady White felt a flicker of joy, yet her reason held firm.
Even if it truly was Jiang Linxian, if they forced their way into the lightning tribulation, they would only harm him.
"Then can we at least go and watch?" Little Green was eager, nearly dancing on her feet.
Lady White said: "If it truly is Jiang Linxian, we must ensure he is fully protected. A hundred years of searching, and today we finally have a clue. After the tribulation he will certainly be weakened, and at that moment no shortage of malevolent demons and specters will be lurking."
"Little Green, conceal your aura. We move now. No need to go too close—hold the outer perimeter first."
"Alright."
"Yes!" Instantly Little Green's face brightened with a radiance that had long been absent—the delight of a long-sought old friend finally yielding a trace of news.
2 faint streams of light, one white, one green, rose soundlessly from within Hangzhou city, slipping past the senses of ordinary mortals, cloaked by the gathering dusk and the thickening rain-clouds, and swept swiftly in the direction of Yuzhao Mountain.