Cultivation 9+1 · Chat

The seventh day since the descent of the nine-colored pillar of light. At the deepest point of the ancient battlefield known as the Ruins of Tianque, the entrance to the Realm of Absolute Beginning slowly opened. It was a rift suspended in the ten-thousand-fathom void, swirling with nine distinct colors of light like a vertical eye unhurriedly opening, gazing coldly down upon all living beings across the Nine Realms. Around the rift, hundreds of figures had already staked out their own ground. Immortal cultivators, demonic cultivators, spirit beasts, rogue cultivators, imperial secret guards, and emissaries of the Netherworld—everyone held their breath in rapt attention, none daring to take the first step. For they were all waiting for the nine individuals deemed absolutely indispensable. Feng Lin was the first to arrive. He arrived riding his flying sword, his robes fluttering in the wind, half a piece of osmanthus cake still clutched in his mouth. Reaching the spot, he leapt nimbly from his sword, swallowed the last bite of the pastry, clapped his hands clean, glanced around, and grinned. "Everyone got here pretty early! Have you eaten yet?" No one answered. Undeterred, Feng Lin found a flat stone to sit on, chatting with his own sword as he waited. The Unfettered Sword vibrated lightly on his back, as if humming in response. Sheng Hanyou was the second to arrive. He descended from the sky. The moment his World-Cleaver Sword—wrapped in coarse burlap—hit the ground, the earth sank slightly, stirring up a swirl of dust. He spotted Feng Lin immediately and grinned: "Yo, Little Feng." "Yo, Old Sheng." Feng Lin didn't even raise his head. "Kill someone on the way again?" "Just handled a few fools who didn't watch where they were going. Nothing major." Sheng Hanyou plunked down beside him, unslung his World-Cleaver Sword to lean against his leg, and the two began chatting about the weather and which tavern served the best wine, looking for all the world like two wanderers meeting up for an outing. Cui Chenlin was the third to arrive. The Young Master of Qianji Pavilion brought only four attendants, every one of them expressionless, holding various mechanical devices and artifacts. After landing, Cui Chenlin first nodded in greeting to Feng Lin and Sheng Hanyou, then instructed his attendants to lay down layer upon layer of protective formations around the entrance, muttering under his breath: "Not enough spirit stones in the southeast direction, add three more. Move the detector in the southwest forward twenty rods. And you over there—don't get close! There's spatial turbulence there; even an immortal couldn't be saved if they fell in." Feng Lin rested his chin in his hand and turned to Sheng Hanyou: "Look, there he goes again." Sheng Hanyou nodded: "He's practically married to his formations." Pei Xuanming was the fourth to arrive. He arrived silently, alone, wearing snow-white robes subtly scented with medicinal herbs. Upon landing, he nodded to Feng Lin and Sheng Hanyou, then walked up to Cui Chenlin and handed him a teal pill. "A Spirit-Connecting Pill. It will ward off the deathly energy of this place for you." Cui Chenlin took it without standing on ceremony: "Thank you, Brother Pei." Pei Xuanming then looked toward Feng Lin and Sheng Hanyou, his tone gentle: "Would you two like one as well? One pill each, just let it dissolve in your mouth." Feng Lin snatched one right away: "Yes, yes, yes! Given by the great Valley Master Pei himself, I'd take it even if it were poison!" Pei Xuanming smiled helplessly. Xu Wangqing was the fifth to arrive. He came from the east, stepping on peach blossom petals swept up by arc lightning, landing as softly as a feather. The Mundane Bound Fan was tucked into his waist, the ice-silk tassel at its end swaying gently in the breeze. "Chief Xu," Cui Chenlin was the first to clasp his hands in greeting. Xu Wangqing returned the gesture: "Young Master Cui. Everyone, my apologies for the wait." His gaze swept over everyone's face without unnecessary words, finally landing on Feng Lin. He spoke: "Young Master Feng, there is something stuck to your sword." Feng Lin froze, turning to check his Unfettered Sword, and sure enough, a tiny petal from who knows where was caught on the sword tassel. Feng Lin laughed heartily: "Sharp eyes, Chief Xu!" Yin Jinglan was the sixth to arrive. He swaggered down the most dangerous path in the Ruins of Tianque, with spatial turbulence to his left and void rifts to his right. Yet he strolled as if taking a walk in his own courtyard, humming a nameless little tune under his breath. The Wind-Facing Sword at his waist swung casually, its blade flickering between bright and dim like a faulty lamp. "Is everyone here?" Yin Jinglan walked into the middle of the crowd, looked around, and chuckled: "Still missing three. Those three are going to be harder to wait for than me." Before he finished speaking, the seventh person arrived. Li Shunian came from the north. No attendants, no grand display, just a solitary figure in black robes, the Self-Mastery Sword hanging at his waist. His stride was so steady it seemed as though he were not in an ancient ruin, but walking along the smoothest imperial avenue in Chang'an. As he drew near, he gave a slight nod to the crowd: "Apologies for keeping you waiting." "Not long, not long at all," Yin Jinglan smiled nonchalantly. "The Second Prince arrived just in time to hear me tell a joke." Li Shunian didn't take the bait. His gaze passed over the crowd to look at the nine-colored rift, his eyes devoid of emotion. Feng Lin lowered his voice to Sheng Hanyou: "I bet one spirit stone he didn't miss a single step." Sheng Hanyou whispered back: "I bet he didn't even step on an ant along the way." Half an hour passed, and the eighth person had still not arrived. The sky grew dark, yet the light of the nine-colored rift grew brighter and brighter, illuminating the surroundings like daylight. Impatient whispers began to break out among the onlookers. Feng Lin was in no rush, playing rock-paper-scissors with Sheng Hanyou to decide who would scout ahead. Cui Chenlin stood before a talisman formation, constantly calibrating something in his hands. Pei Xuanming closed his eyes to rest his spirit. Xu Wangqing quietly watched the sky. Yin Jinglan squatted on the ground drawing circles with a twig. Li Shunian stood like a statue in the wind. Then, everyone fell silent at once. Not because they heard anything, but because the air suddenly turned cold. That cold was not ice or snow, but a stillness that penetrated deep into the marrow. All sounds faded away, and even the air seemed to stop moving. Reflected in the nine-colored pillar of light, a tall, slender black figure stepped out from the void, as if peeled away from the bottomless night. Jun Ce'an had arrived. Without looking at anyone, he walked straight to a broken stone furthest from the crowd, sat down, pulled up one leg, and laid his Extinction Sword horizontally across his knees. An ice-blue Frost-Silence Gu crawled out from his sleeve, curling around the sword hilt like a ghostly blue breath. Yin Jinglan blew a whistle: "The Young Master of the Demonic Sect, what a grand entrance." Jun Ce'an ignored him. Cui Chenlin spoke up of his own accord: "Young Master Jun, opening the entrance to the Realm of Absolute Beginning requires the blood of nine supreme spirit roots. Eight of us have arrived, leaving only the last one." Jun Ce'an finally raised his eyes, his voice flat: "And?" "So, please be patient." Jun Ce'an said no more, simply closing his eyes. His attitude was clear: he would wait. As time ticked away, the nine-colored rift began to tremble slightly, as if something within was awakening. Panic seized some of the onlookers, and muttering spread through the crowd. Feng Lin stood up, stretched, and walked a few steps toward the rift. Looking up at the swirling nine-colored light, he suddenly said, "Say, do you think the last guy expects the eight of us to go invite him out personally?" The moment the words left his mouth, the heavens and earth changed color. The sky above everyone's heads abruptly darkened, as if someone had grabbed the entire firmament like a sheet of black cloth and slowly pulled it down. Gray fog rose out of thin air, surging in from all directions. Wherever it passed, flowers and grass withered, vitality was severed, and even the air became as heavy as lead. A figure walked out from the deepest part of the gray fog. No sound, no warning. He simply appeared, as if stepping slowly across the boundary between life and death. The fragmented Reincarnation Seal on his brow flickered with an extremely faint silver glow in the gray fog. With every step he took, the surrounding space trembled softly, and even the light of the nine-colored rift seemed to dim a fraction. Ji Zhaoxin had arrived. He stood outside the group of eight, neither too close nor too far, neither humble nor arrogant, his gaze sweeping over each person in turn. That gaze was so calm it chilled one's heart, yet it held no hostility whatsoever. A moment later, he spoke: "The nine are gathered. We may begin." Feng Lin was the first to react, jumping up immediately: "Crown Prince Ji, right? A pleasure, a pleasure! We've been waiting for you forever! Do you want to eat something first, or go straight to bleeding?" As he spoke, he reached for his own sword. Cui Chenlin took a step forward, bowing to Ji Zhaoxin first: "Crown Prince of the Netherworld, Cui Chenlin of Qianji Pavilion offers his greetings. Since all nine have arrived, each of us needs to draw a drop of heart's blood and drip it onto the nine-colored stone altar at the entrance." Ji Zhaoxin glanced at him and said: "I have no spirit root." "The Physique of All Laws Returning to Void belongs to no spirit root, but your blood can substitute for any spirit root," Cui Chenlin explained loudly, fully prepared. "That is why, among the endless speculations across the Nine Realms, no one could ever determine which nine supreme spirit roots were required—until you appeared." Ji Zhaoxin was silent for a brief second, then said: "Understood." He walked toward the nine-colored stone altar. Feng Lin tagged along beside him, chattering non-stop: "You really don't have a spirit root? How do you cultivate without one? Do you get stronger just by drinking water? Or can you use all attributes? Does that mean you can use my wind, too?" Ji Zhaoxin didn't stop his pace, merely replying: "The wind is not meant to be used." Feng Lin paused for a beat, then burst out laughing: "Right, right, right! The wind is meant to blow! You're so right!" The nine finally gathered before the nine-colored stone altar. The altar was not large, bearing nine grooves that corresponded to nine colors: teal, red, blue, purple, gray, black-and-white interwoven, transparent, verdant green, and colorless. Nine rays of light rose from the grooves like tiny pillars of light, awaiting the awakening of blood. Cui Chenlin stood at the very front, looking around at everyone, and said earnestly: "Gentlemen, after today, the Nine Realms may no longer be the Nine Realms we knew. None of us knows what lies within the Realm of Absolute Beginning. I ask for only one thing—" He paused, then said: "Inside the realm, let us not be in a hurry to kill one another." Sheng Hanyou grinned: "That depends on whether someone makes a move first." Jun Ce'an said coldly: "If anyone stands in my way, I will show no mercy." Li Shunian chimed in plainly: "Just follow your conscience." Xu Wangqing snapped his folding fan open and closed again: "Let each of us hold our own bottom line." Pei Xuanming said warmly: "If anyone is injured, you may come to me." Yin Jinglan shrugged: "I don't mind either way, depends on my mood." Feng Lin clapped his hands: "Alright, alright! Stop throwing harsh words around and bleed already!" Ji Zhaoxin was the first to extend his right hand. A streak of silver light burst from his fingertip, and a drop of blood floated up like a dark red star, hovering above the colorless groove in the very center of the nine-colored stone altar. That drop of blood neither fell nor drifted away, merely floating there quietly, yet it caused the entire altar to vibrate. The other eight acted at the same time. Feng Lin's teal blood was like wind, Jun Ce'an's red blood like fire, Cui Chenlin's blue blood like ice, Xu Wangqing's purple blood like thunder, Sheng Hanyou's gray blood like primal chaos, Yin Jinglan's black-and-white blood like day and night intertwined, Li Shunian's transparent blood like empty void, and Pei Xuanming's verdant blood like fresh spring timber. Nine drops of blood fell together. The stone altar violently erupted with light that shot into the sky. The nine colors merged into one blinding white ray, swallowing all nine individuals simultaneously. Within the light, Feng Lin's voice was the last to sound: "Holy crap, opening this door hurts way more than I thought—!" Then, everything fell into silence. The Realm of Absolute Beginning was officially opened. From this moment on, the fate of the Nine Realms was no longer theirs alone to decide.