Chapter 1688: A Fraction of a Thought

Bai Zhi left, her heart filled with pent-up anger. She strongly suspected Ye Chen was doing it on purpose, getting back at her for what happened before.

“Go back.” As soon as she stepped out of the Xiao Zhu Lin, an ethereal voice reached her.

It was Di Huang, though his location was unknown. He seemed to know his disciple a bit too well – did she really think she could just walk away?

“Master, I don’t understand. Why does it have to be me?”

“There are so many women in the Di Fu; you could just pick any one.”

“Or, I could just leave a clone. My true self doesn’t need to be here.”

Bai Zhi grumbled inwardly. She was incredibly proud; even in defeat, she was still a supreme disciple. This time, she was truly furious.

“This is a form of cultivation. You must not give up halfway.”

Di Huang’s words were as ethereal as ever, yet full of authority.

Bai Zhi took a deep breath and didn't dare defy her master’s command. She turned around and returned to the Xiao Zhu Lin, her expression sour.

In the Xiao Zhu Lin, Ye Chen had already put away his painting and picked up his brush again.

Even without Bai Zhi there, he could still paint her likeness, as her image was etched in his Shen Hai, identical to the real person.

But before he could start, the young woman returned.

She came back, but glared fiercely at Ye Chen. If not for Di Huang’s order, she would have lost her temper and fought him again.

“Immortal, you don’t need to be here.”

“You think I want to?” Bai Zhi shot Ye Chen a look, casually straightened her hair, and sat back in her original spot.

Seeing her demeanor, Ye Chen coughed awkwardly, feeling a bit guilty.

Thinking about it, he realized he hadn't handled this properly.

She was, after all, the disciple of an Di Jun, personally coming to model for him and giving him face, yet he hadn't been fully sincere.

“Paint quickly. I’m very busy.”

The young woman’s beautiful eyes were expressive, as if saying: If you dare paint carelessly again, I’ll slap you with a palm.

Ye Chen felt embarrassed, picked up his brush, and dipped it in vibrant ink.

After taking a deep breath, he began to paint, stroke by stroke, his lines and touches absolutely masterful.

Bai Zhi sat still, not moving at all, like an icy beauty.

As she sat, a beam of Xian Guang descended straight from the sky, landing on her and binding her in place.

It was Di Huang again, understanding his disciple perfectly – she might really try to walk away.

So, he added an extra layer of insurance by sealing her.

As he said, this was cultivation, tempering her state of mind. This time, it was a mutual honing between her and Ye Chen.

Bai Zhi grew restless, wanting to speak but unable, wanting to move but unable.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got, resenting her master: I don’t object to you tempering him, but couldn’t you choose someone else?

I’m still injured, you know? Beaten by Ye Chen.

Meanwhile, Ye Chen finished a painting and stared at it in a daze.

Without even looking, it was still Chu Ling, vividly depicted, but the strokes bore no resemblance to Bai Zhi whatsoever.

Across from him, Bai Zhi’s gaze flickered; she really wanted to go over and see.

But seeing Ye Chen like that, she didn’t need to bother.

It was definitely Chu Ling; it had to be Chu Ling. Otherwise, why would that guy have tears in his eyes and be so absorbed?

Ye Chen sighed, rolled up the painting, and picked up his brush again.

The Xiao Zhu Lin fell silent once more – one sitting, one painting. Bai Zhi couldn’t speak, Ye Chen said nothing; it was eerily quiet.

He painted quickly, one after another.

Yet, each one was Chu Ling, with no connection to Bai Zhi except that they were both women.

Bai Zhi felt like crying. She was already injured, and now she had internal injuries too.

It was torture, real torture. She finally understood her own value: not to be painted by Ye Chen, but to watch him paint.

What was frustrating was that it seemed like none of this had anything to do with her.

Over here, Ye Chen finished another painting – beautiful, indeed, but completely unrelated to Bai Zhi. Clearly, it was still Chu Ling.

Bai Zhi closed her eyes; if she kept watching, she’d go mad.

Ye Chen held the painting, gazing at it for a long time, his smile mixed with tears.

Though it was just a painting, it felt like the real Chu Ling – every frown and smile was hers, exactly as in his memories.

But she had become someone else’s wife and no longer loved him, Ye Chen.

He began to understand that their so-called emotional bond had long ended.

He truly comprehended the intention of his predecessor, Di Huang – it was to prevent him from entering the Liu Dao Lun Hui with the demons of his emotional tribulation.

A gentle breeze blew, stirring his snow-white hair.

He closed his eyes too, brush in hand, dipping ink to paint.

This time, each stroke was slow, neither rushed nor agitated. It took quite a while – fully three days – and it still wasn’t finished.

Only on the fourth day did he open his eyes and quietly look at the painting.

The figure on the painting was still Chu Ling, but a discerning eye would notice that it was nine parts Chu Ling and one part Bai Zhi.

He stared at it for a whole hour, his vision blurred by tears.

That one part like Bai Zhi proved his state of mind had changed; a trace of confusion had begun, and he was starting to let go of Chu Ling.

Falling in love with someone was hard, but letting go was even harder.

He didn’t know how many times he picked up his brush and closed his eyes.

Three days, then another three days; one painting after another. He painted more vividly, but the more he painted, the less it resembled Chu Ling and the more it looked like Bai Zhi.

He never realized that painting could hurt so much.

Each part that resembled Bai Zhi meant he was letting go of Chu Ling a bit more.

Bit by bit, until the painting was no longer Chu Ling Er, but purely Bai Zhi – that would be truly letting go.

His brush seemed to turn into a carving knife; though he painted on the scroll, it was etched into his heart. Stroke by stroke, it hurt so much he wanted to cry.

The painting continued; the forgetting continued; the tears continued to flow.

He didn’t know how many days passed or how many paintings he made, until every bamboo in the grove was hung with scrolls of her image.

During these days, he was transforming, undergoing nirvana in his emotional tribulation.

And Bai Zhi’s once dull state of mind gradually became as still as water.

She understood her master’s painstaking efforts. In her closed eyes, she actually broke through her realm, advancing from Sheng Ren to Zhun Sheng Wang.

After an unknown number of days, she opened her eyes for the first time.

Her eyes were full of joy; this barrier had held her back for a hundred years.

In her joy, she looked toward Ye Chen. For breaking through this bottleneck, she should thank him – it was truly a fortuitous encounter.

She saw Ye Chen painting with his eyes closed, tears streaming uncontrollably from the corners, a sight that made her feel a bit heartbroken.

In her beautiful eyes, amid the indifference, a trace of pity emerged.

She had never loved anyone, so she didn’t know what loss felt like.

But seeing Ye Chen like this, she realized how painful it was to forget a woman – more heart-wrenching than a thousand cuts.

With a sigh, she stood up and stepped into the Jie Ming Shan; now that she had advanced, she needed to undergo her Tian Jie.

In the Xiao Zhu Lin, Ye Chen’s final stroke fell.

The painting before him was no longer Chu Ling; it was nine parts nine Bai Zhi.

That zero point one part was his last attachment. If he painted another, it would surely be erased – a pitiful trace of concern.

He gathered all the paintings, suspended them in the air, conjured a flame, and burned each scroll to ashes.

Only then did he silently turn and step out of the bamboo grove.

Outside the mountain, thunder rumbled; rolling dark clouds gathered thickly, with lightning streaking like serpents.

A pressure that made the heavens tremble enveloped the entire Di Fu.

It was the Tian Jie, the divine punishment meant for Bai Zhi. Her bloodline was too strong, her talent too heaven-defying, so this tribulation was extraordinarily fearsome.

People from all sides were startled, looking up in a daze at the sky.

As cultivators, how could they not recognize this scene?

Immediately, crowds gathered, surging toward the Jie Ming Shan like a tide, a vast black mass.

“It’s actually Bai Zhi.” Someone exclaimed in surprise, gazing at the sky where Bai Zhi stood gracefully, like a supreme queen.

“The disciple of Di Jun has finally taken that step.”

“What a fortuitous encounter!” The veteran Ming Jiangs were full of envy; they had been stuck at Sheng Ren for who knows how many centuries.

“Am I seeing this right? There’s another one over there?” Someone cried out.

The words drew many gazes to that direction.

In that part of the sky, dark clouds also churned, thunder rampaging.

Vaguely, a figure could be seen, clad in armor, with a sturdy back, eyes like stars, and long hair like a divine waterfall.

“Ming Jue?” Many were stunned, their expressions odd.

“The disciple of Di Jun and the disciple of Ming Di, both triggering Tian Jie at the same time. Did they plan this?”

“They’re truly evenly matched!” In the crowd, Qin Mengyao sighed, “Not even taking turns.”

“The Tian Jie is so massive; how terrifying must this divine punishment be?” The nine great Ming Jiangs of the hall had arrived, clicking their tongues in amazement.

“Indeed, hidden dragons and crouching tigers.” Zhao Yun smiled, his expression not greatly disturbed. Compared to his own, theirs was far inferior.

Amid the discussions, thunder gathered into seas on both the east and west sides.

Ming Jue and Bai Zhi stood in their respective thunder seas, their battle intent soaring; they sought to transform under the Tian Jie and achieve nirvana in the divine punishment.

In each of their thunder seas, two thunder figures materialized, both with god-like presence, and Di Dao laws danced around them.

“Heavens! Ming Di and Di Jun.” Exclamations erupted from all sides.

“It’s actually the Di Dao Shen Jie.” The old-timers were thrilled.

“Both have touched upon the laws of Ming Di and Di Jun.”

“Does that mean Bai Zhi and Ming Jue are going to fight equivalents of Ming Di and Di Jun?” Someone asked tentatively.

“If they pass, they’ll reach the Nine Heavens Immortal Vault; if not, they’ll fall to the Nine Serenities Yellow Springs.” The elders took a deep breath.

Under the watchful eyes of all, Bai Zhi and Ming Jue had already begun their battles.

They were indeed fighting two at once, against the two supreme beings from the same era. Even with their strength, both ended up bathed in blood in the thunder sea.

The spectators’ eyes shone brightly, afraid to miss any moment.

Some even took out memory crystals; such a scene was rare in ten thousand years – worth recording and treasuring.

Perhaps because the Tian Jie was so noisy, drawing everyone’s attention, no one noticed a figure walking toward the vast wilderness.

It was Ye Chen, carrying that trace of concern, traveling through the dust under the black sun, truly forgetting Chu Ling.

At the peak of Jie Ming Shan, Ming Di and Di Huang stood side by side, but they weren’t watching their own disciples undergo the tribulation. Instead, they gazed through the haze at Ye Chen.

“The Liu Dao Lun Hui is about to open, Di Huang. Your calculations are spot on.”

“Are you not afraid he’ll remain trapped in his emotional tribulation forever?”

“I have never doubted the Sheng Ti lineage; they have never disappointed.” Di Huang smiled, his eyes full of contentment.