Fellow Daoist! That scoundrel has written a new book again.

Chapter 597 Extra (1)

Within the secret realm of Qingyun Sect's territory, the resurrected Elder Qian is guarding this place, which is no longer the entrance to the Small Cave Heaven.

In that battle, he thought he was the one playing the game, but little did he know that the predecessors had laid out their plans and calculated for thousands of years, ultimately leading to the downfall of Lu Tiaotiao of the Qingyun Sect.

To this day, no one knows "her" name.

Disciples came to observe the sword marks on the stone walls on both sides, in order to experience the essence of swordsmanship.

"Cultivation is useless, and lifespan has its limits."

"At the end of the Great Way, cause and effect are empty."

"Since cause and effect are empty, who can truly know me?"

"Having been abandoned, where shall I go from here?"

……

These chaotic characters have remained here for who knows how long, or even a thousand years from now, they may still be here.

The young cultivator silently recited these prophetic words, a deep sorrow filling his heart. He felt that in the end, the Great Dao was empty, and that life was always beyond one's control, filled with countless disappointments—truly a case of…

"Like a puppet, moved by strings."

I was overcome with grief.

The sword in his hand clattered to the ground, tears streaming down his face as he murmured:

"Cultivating the Tao... is it just a path to death...?"

"Since my return journey is already decided, why should I travel thousands of miles?"

Ultimately, they cannot escape the fact that "lifespan has its limits"!

The secret realm remains empty; where is the person who once lived there?

Just as the young cultivator was filled with sorrow, Elder Qian's voice came from within the secret realm—

"Then you should cripple your cultivation and find a place to commit suicide."

The young monk choked for a moment.

After a while, he remained silent, then lowered his head and picked up his sword.

Suicide is impossible for him. He will never commit suicide in his life. He hasn't become a legendary figure in the martial arts world like "Fallen Leaves Inviting Autumn" yet!

The young cultivator stepped out of the cave, where his companions were waiting for him. Upon seeing him, they immediately greeted him:

"Hurry, hurry, hurry! As they say, a new book has been released!"

"I heard that this story is a fictional one, featuring a minor character as the protagonist to tell the story of the Battle of Licheng!"

"You must be seventy by now. You're still a prolific writer, though your output isn't very high. You've only written a few short stories in decades. You're still as good as ever, writing tirelessly!"

The young monk pulled his friend along and said to her:

"Just read whatever you have. It's already impressive that he's still writing at his age. I'm afraid that in a few years, next to Wu Yu's memorial tablet, we'll have to enshrine a Daoist..."

“That makes sense!” The cultivator’s friend leaped onto the spirit sword and said, “Even if his skill level has declined, we can understand!”

The area in front of Mohen Bookstore is bustling with traffic.

As the saying goes, the release of a new book generates just as much buzz as the announcement of Wu Yu's obituary years ago.

Tang Xin arrived early to queue up and became one of the first readers to snag the new book. She went to the same eatery as before, but the old lady who used to serve soup was nowhere to be found.

She ordered some snacks.

Just as she was opening the storybook, she suddenly remembered that many years ago, right here, someone had told her fortune.

At that time, she wrote the character "辛".

The sword cultivator who cast a divination for her said that she would face countless open and hidden attacks, and might eventually lose her position as a personal disciple.

Tang Xin had forgotten how she answered back then, but the gist of it was probably that she couldn't give up just because she would lose it sooner or later. At least in the end, she would have had it.

It seems pretty accurate...

Tang Xin was indeed "driven" out of the sect by Senior Sister Gu.

Thus, Tang Xin's story officially began!

Overwhelmed with emotion, she was about to open the book when she saw a woman in a white dress in front of her, also holding a copy of "Canglang Anthology".

Tang Xin looked over and felt that the woman was gentle and otherworldly.

It seems like a celestial being descended to earth, or like a mountain spring formed from melting spring snow.

She opened the storybook, read a few sentences, then closed it again, as if the content of the book was not to her liking.

Tang Xin tried to decipher the woman's murmured words, which seemed to be a sentence—

"It's not her..."

Tang Xin was puzzled, wondering who the phrase "not her" referred to, so he lowered his head and stopped staring at the girl.

"Miss Ji! You're here!"

A monk walked up to the woman in the white dress.

It was Gu Lang.

He smiled brightly, holding a folding fan, but he kept carefully observing Ji Yuezhang's expression—he saw neither sadness nor much joy.

Gu Lang couldn't guess what Ji Yuezhang was thinking, so he probed:

"How about the new story? As they say, the writing is as powerful as ever!"

Ji Yuezhang smiled.

She said nothing.

A-Yao is still alive, but we can never meet again. This ending is already quite good.

Instead of answering, he asked:

"I'd like to visit Nanli City in the autumn, would you like to come along?"

Gu Lang's heart skipped a beat. Suppressing the bitterness in his eyes, he said:

"Alright, now that the Giant Sword Sect is gone, the South is in dire need of rebuilding. Let's go and see if the martial world is still the same as it used to be!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Dawn Valley.

Mingzhu was sighing and lamenting.

Cui Heng remained unmoved and shook her head, saying:

"Taibai and Qingyun are eyeing us covetously, taking advantage of the chaos in the south to encroach on our Dawn Valley territory. Although the Star-Picking Tower in the north is not adjacent to us, it now demands that we reciprocate its interests."

"I now droop my wings and attach myself to the dark swan; one day I will not be ashamed to be a snake that becomes a dragon."

“Mingzhu, no, now I should call you Sect Leader Ming. Now that you have become a dragon, how should we calculate the merits of your support? Those who helped you rise to the top are all waiting.”

"Do you remember why our sect is called 'Valley'?"

Mingzhu's expression was extremely complicated, but he still answered:

"Because the Juque Sect blew itself up..."

"That's right! That's why we don't even have spirit stones to repair the sect. If the sect isn't repaired, fine, but how are you going to explain this to the three sects and to the people who fought alongside you to conquer the world?"

Mingzhu lowered his head and touched his forehead, concealing the fierceness in his eyes.

The South desperately needs time to recuperate and rebuild, but the newly established sects are eager to divide up the benefits everywhere.

Even if she were to search high and low, even scraping the gold from the Buddha's face, the South was ravaged by war; how much could she possibly gain?

After a long silence, Mingzhu slowly spoke:

"Cultivators have long lifespans, while mortals only live for a few decades... What are those people in such a hurry for? Are they afraid of dying tomorrow and not being able to enjoy life—"

"Be careful what you say."

Silence returned to the room.

Until there was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

Upon seeing the newcomer, the murderous aura surrounding Mingzhu instantly dissipated like a spring breeze. She looked at Ge Mingsheng and asked with a smile:

"Senior Ye, are you awake? How are your injuries?"

Instead of answering, Ge Mingsheng asked:

"Do you need to kill anyone? Give me some time, I'll fabricate charges against you."

Cui Heng closed her eyes to rest, seemingly not hearing anything.

Mingzhu's smile turned into a bitter one, and he sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead.

"Ah Liang has a two-palm-long scar on his back, which he took for me in the chaos of the South."

“He is a cultivator. It’s just a scar that can be repaired at any time. Leaving it on his body is a sign of taking advantage of someone’s kindness and has ulterior motives. I heard that he wants to go to Fengcheng to become the city lord. It’s a good place with abundant spiritual minerals.”

Mingzhu's gaze was dark and unfathomable as he spoke:

"Let me think about it..."

Just then, someone came to report from outside the door—

"There's a cultivator outside Dawn Valley carrying a white goose; he says he wants to see the sect leader!"