Crossing the Cultivation Realm: Two Souls Coexist

Lin Feng did not hesitate for a moment because of the miracles displayed by the old tortoise. He quickly composed himself and showed the decisiveness of a new commander.

He gathered all the soldiers in the camp who were still able to move—whether they were wounded or in charge of logistics—into the cemetery.

Without needing many words, the soldiers, looking at the neat and solemn new burial pits, already understood what they had to do.

People walked silently and orderly toward the specially designated stone quarry next to the cemetery.

There, rows of polished gray stone tablets stand silently, like soldiers awaiting inspection.

This is a tradition that Dongying has maintained for many years, and it is also the last bit of tenderness on the brutal battlefield.

Every soldier who enters the military will have his own tombstone from the very beginning.

If they were to die on the battlefield, this stone tablet would be their final resting place and a testament to their memory.

The soldiers began to painstakingly search among these cold stone tablets for the names that were once vibrant but are now gone.

Each time a corresponding name was found, several people would carefully lift the body and walk with heavy but steady steps toward the corresponding grave.

Feng Yichen moved among them, and at this moment he also rolled up his sleeves and silently helped to move those bodies that were too heavy or required special care. His movements were gentle, as if he was afraid of disturbing his comrades' peaceful sleep.

Hu Qing and Gu Yang worked together to gently lift Elder Han Ce's body.

They walked toward the four burial pits at the very front—clearly reserved by the old tortoise for the most senior members of the family.

Elder Han's eyes were closed, and his face was unexpectedly peaceful, as if he had simply fallen into a deep sleep.

But the loose, cold, and inelastic skin silently proclaimed the complete passing of life.

Compared to the sprightly old man they had met when they left Tianyi Sect, Elder Han before them looked much older and more tired.

Gu Yang stared at it for a moment, then silently took out a large piece of black wood from his storage ring, which had a faint, warm luster.

This is a treasure of the Kingdom of Ten Thousand Trees—Soul-Nourishing Wood, renowned for its ability to warm and nourish the soul and its resistance to decay. He originally intended to keep it to craft some furniture and artifacts that would aid in cultivation.

But at this moment, he felt that letting his predecessors rest in such a resting place made of spirit wood was far more meaningful than any other purpose.

He didn't say much, but simply took out two sharp carving knives and handed one to Hu Qing.

The two sat down on the ground beside the grave pit, wielding their knives with lightning speed, splitting, dividing, piecing together, and polishing the precious piece of black wood according to the shape of the coffin in their memory.

There are no fancy patterns, no complicated structures, only the simplest lines and the most meticulous mortise and tenon joints.

Xiao Zi also quieted down and carefully used her little hands to measure the body size of the elders to ensure that the coffin was the right size.

In less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, four simple yet ancient and heavy black coffins were quietly presented to the crowd.

Hu Qing carefully placed the coffins one by one into the four frontmost grave pits, moving gently as if placing fragile treasures.

Gu Yang then bent down and gently lifted Elder Han's body, placing it steadily into his black wooden coffin.

Elder Han's once-brilliant and dulled array diagram was solemnly placed on Gu Yang's chest.

The natal spirit artifact has passed away with its owner, and keeping it is of no use. It is better to let it continue to accompany this old man who has been obsessed with the art of arrays all his life.

In his eternal slumber, he may still be able to deduce his myriad formations in his dreams.

With her short legs, Xiao Zi accurately found the two stone tablets belonging to Han Ce and Yan Bing among the pile of stone tablets.

Despite his small size, he possessed the immense strength of a dragon, easily lifting the two heavy stone tablets and placing them steadily beside the corresponding coffins.

Hu Qing erected the stone tablet belonging to Elder Han and forcefully buried its bottom into solid ground to ensure it was as stable as a mountain.

Then, he took out a clean, soft cloth from his pocket and carefully wiped away the dust that had settled on the surface of the stele. The stele was simple in design, with only seven characters engraved on it:

"Tianyi Sect, Mengfeng, Han Ce".

His handwriting is elegant and unrestrained, carrying an untamed spirit, like willow catkins swaying in the wind yet remaining resilient, just like the man himself.

Hu Qing knew that Elder Han must have carved this for him personally on a clear, moonlit night.

On the other side, Gu Yanggang carefully placed Elder Yan Bing's body into the coffin.

The jade sword that Elder Yan was once so proud of, smooth and warm, was now covered in cracks, as if it would shatter completely at the slightest touch.

Gu Yang dared not exert any force, so he held his breath and placed it very gently on Elder Yan's chest.

Then he gently raised his hands, which once possessed the power to split mountains and shatter rocks, and placed them in a posture of embracing a jade sword.

After doing all this, Gu Yang stared blankly at Elder Yan in the coffin, who seemed to be just sleeping.

That resolute face and tightly pursed lips still faintly revealed some of the former "Little Sword God's" charisma.

In a daze, he almost thought that the fiery-tempered senior would open his eyes and laugh and scold them with a strong voice the next moment.

"Woo..."

A low, suppressed sob came from the side, startling Gu Yang from his brief reverie.

He turned his head and saw Lin Feng kneeling in front of Commander Li Yan's coffin, carefully straightening his slightly disheveled collar and smoothing out the wrinkles on his uniform with trembling hands.

Lin Feng also discovered the suddenly appearing black wooden coffins and silently moved Commander Li's body inside, where he was making final preparations for him.

Gu Yang felt a mix of emotions and sighed softly.

He reached for the stone tablet belonging to Elder Yan beside him, mustered all his strength, and firmly planted it into the ground in front of the grave. The tablet, too, bore only seven simple characters:

"Tianyi Sect, Mengfeng, Yan Bing".

His handwriting was completely different from Elder Han's; it was strong and powerful, exuding an undeniable fierceness and majesty, which was a reflection of Elder Yan's character.

Gu Yang looked at the somewhat lonely inscription on the stele, and then took out the small knife he had used to carve the coffin.

He crouched down, focused his mind, and gently traced the tip of his knife across the lower right corner of the black, hard stone tablet, causing stone dust to fall in a flurry.

A line of small but clear new characters was slowly carved on it: "Respectfully erected by Gu Yang Hu Qing, disciple of Mengfeng".

"Me too! Me too!" Xiao Zi watched anxiously from the side, tugging at Gu Yang's clothes and pointing at the stone tablet, calling out repeatedly, afraid of being left out.

Looking at the little guy's anxious expression, Gu Yang finally showed a faint, sad smile.

He nodded, and with a slight flick of his wrist, carefully added the words "Xiao Zi" after the small print.

Seeing this, Hu Qing also used a carving knife to engrave the exact same words in the same position on Elder Han's tombstone.

Sunlight filtered through the sparse clouds, casting a soft glow on the newly established cemetery, illuminating the black coffins, gray tombstones, and the solemn and sorrowful expressions on everyone's faces.

In the silence, only the soft rustling of the carving knife cutting through the stone tablet, along with the distant, eternal sound of the ocean waves, together compose a silent elegy.