Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

Although the fluctuation was very weak, it was extremely distinct. It was absolutely the fluctuation of true essence!

What did this mean? This meant that Zhexiu's meridian was already joined. Although it could not be said to have been completely restored, at least true essence could slowly flow through it. Moreover, as long as true essence could flow, the meridian's speed of repair would be countless times faster. Much less three years, it might not even require three days for that meridian to be restored to its original condition!

What's going on here? Chen Changsheng thought in shock as he gazed at Zhexiu.

As they looked each other in the eyes, he knew that Zhexiu had already sensed the meridian's recovery. It had nothing to do with the treatments or medicines. For the meridian to have recovered innumerable times faster than he had estimated could only have been accomplished by Zhexiu. The question was, just how had he done it?

"Pain." Zhexiu stared into his eyes. "Can stimulate vitality. The greater the pain, the more vitality is stimulated. You just need to soberly bear that sort of pain."

Chen Changsheng was incredibly stunned. For quite some time, he couldn't even speak.

Late at night, the lights of the Orthodox Academy were gradually extinguished, thus allowing the starlight illuminating the Separate Garden to seem even brighter. Chen Changsheng stood at the window, gazing at the silver surface of the lake in silence. If this were any other time, he would have already gone to sleep, but today, he did not. The resolute and strict will Zhexiu was displaying had caused him to vaguely understand something.

He sat cross-legged by the window and began to meditate, entering the sword sheath. Different from before, he did not separate a strand of his spiritual sense and have it enter the sheath, instead having the entirety of his spiritual sense enter. He knew that this was an incredibly dangerous move, that he was about to experience an excruciating pain. In addition, if his spiritual sense were jolted apart by the illusory black monolith, it was highly likely that he would suffer severe injuries.

But he could no longer wait. He had to enter the Garden of Zhou and see.

This sword sheath was called the Vault Sheath and within it lay countless razor-sharp sword intents. Combined, they formed a most dangerous ocean. In the past when he had sent his single strand of spiritual sense through this sword ocean, it would provoke torrential rains and howling winds and bring about massive waves. Today, he had sent all of his spiritual sense, so one could imagine the response from the ocean of sword intents. Instantly, it began to crazily bellow.

It was very painful, truly very painful. His spiritual sense collided against endless waves the size of mountains or else sank down to the frigid seabed. After some indeterminate amount of time had passed, he finally succeeded in reaching the shore on the other side of the sword ocean and set eyes on that illusory black monolith.

The journey had seemed very simple, but it had actually been dangerous to the extreme. If his spiritual sense had not just been washed by that drop of tea, becoming more flexible in all aspects and possessing a sort of vitality, perhaps it would have been engulfed by this vast body of water midway.

Even though this was the case, there had been several instances en route in which the pain had almost made him give up. However, whenever he was prepared to give up, he recalled Zhexiu and recalled how he had raised up the umbrella of ten thousand swords to support the falling sky atop the Mausoleum of Zhou, making him grit his teeth and endure it.

Tonight, what had arrived at the shore on the other side of the sword ocean was his entire spiritual sense.

From this, one could understand how he arrived at the other shore and stood before the black monolith.

The moment his gaze rested on the surface of the black monolith's illusion, his spiritual sense also descended upon it.

Last time, his spiritual sense had already been able to dive deeper into the illusory black monolith, but it could not go all the way through. As a result, he had only been able to get a faint picture of what lay behind. This time was also the same. He saw the dusky cliffs of Sunset Valley, the now-ruined Mountainside Whispering Wood, those small lakes which seemed to have dried up, and also that plain.

The plain was utterly lacking in vitality. The green patches of reeds and white frosted grass were like large patches of color, cut apart by gorges that ran through the earth.

Just as he thought that all the monsters had escaped the plain and disappeared to parts unknown, he realized that there was a giant black spot to the northwest. With a thought, he arrived in the sky over that area.

On the plain, there were tens of thousands of monsters slowly making their way to the distant mausoleum.

Their heads were lowered, their breathing rough, their mouths dripping with saliva, the wounds covering their bodies giving off a putrid air. They seemed ready to drop dead at any time.

Suddenly, the black monster tide stopped. A figure like a small mountain slowly stood. It was the Mountain-toppling Fiend gazing up at the sky.

The tens of thousands of monsters followed its gaze upwards. They all sensed that something seemed to be watching them, but they couldn't see anything.

After some time had passed, despair appeared in the monsters' eyes and painful whimpers arose. If there really is a god overlooking us, why don't you come save us? How can you have the heart to unfeelingly watch as we walk into desperate straits?

The monsters did not go mad from despair, because those monsters that had gone mad had already massacred each other several days ago. The remaining monsters were already exhausted to a breaking point. They had already abandoned all hope of survival, only desiring to return to the place where they had resided for many generations and then sink into eternal rest with the master of that mausoleum.

Chen Changsheng withdrew his gaze and he turned his attention to the surface of the black monolith.

The black monolith's illusion was not one bit different from the real black monolith. It just lacked a body, truly being a complete projection.

He gazed at those complex and incomprehensible lines upon the monolith's surface, pondering the question of just how he could get past them.

If these lines were to fall on the eyes of ordinary people, they would just be abstruse writings. No matter how they looked at it, they wouldn't be able to understand, let alone distinguish some sort of laws from them. After all, this monolith had always been a Heavenly Tome Monolith.

(TN: translates to 'Heavenly Tome', but it can also mean 'abstruse/illegible writing'.)

Chen Changsheng had seen many Heavenly Tome Monoliths and was very familiar with the lines on their surface. He knew how he should examine them.

His gaze landed amidst the lines, moving along with them. He felt like he had returned to those days in the Mausoleum of Books, sitting before the monolith huts and sitting under the tree for endless days and nights.

Those lines were the orbits along which the stars moved, the source, or perhaps symbol, of all the changes in fate. He felt like he had returned to those days in the wilderness of Tianliang County, raising his head up to the starry sky.

That was the first day after Su Li had transmitted the Intellectual Sword to him.

He had been keenly aware that his calculation ability was not enough to completely grasp the Intellectual Sword, so he had used another method.

He had used the method for comprehending the Heavenly Tome Monoliths to use the Intellectual Sword. Even Su Li would probably not have guessed that this sort of thing was possible.

Then now, he had to turn everything around. He wanted to use the Intellectual Sword to unlock the Heavenly Tome Monolith. He did not wish to do as he had done in the Mausoleum of Books, viewing the monoliths to be enlightened in the Dao and comprehend. He wanted to break it.

(TN: This paragraph plays on the word . means unlock, means comprehend, and means break.)

He wished to find a path in these lines on the surface of the black monolith, to find the Divine Kingdom amongst the orbits of the stars, to find the truth amongst the illusory fateand then use his sword to break through.

After quite a long time had passed, he closed his eyes.

After another span of time had passed, he opened his eyes, and his sword stabbed at the surface of the black monolith.

His spiritual sense was currently within the sheath, his body outside of it.

His sword was in the sheath, but it was not within the sheath.

But the moment he attacked, the Stainless Sword was summoned by his will and came to be gripped in his hand.

The Stainless Sword pierced through the air and fell upon the black monolith. It clearly stabbed at the intersection of countless lines, yet for some reason, when the point fell upon the monolith, it landed on a white space.

There was a pop like a bubble in a pond being popped by some naughty frog.

There was a rumble as the ocean of sword intent behind him curled up into a monstrous wave that reached the heavens.

Before his eyes, the black monolith rapidly lightened and then turned into a pure white.

That was light.

And also the sky.

He drew his gaze back from the sky, lowering his head to look at the plain around. He saw those three mountain ranges in the distance, saw the miserable grass of the wilderness.

With a howl of cold wind, his sleeves were blown around.

This was the Garden of Zhou.

He stood at the place in the Garden of Zhou that was closest to the sky and also the place that was furthest from the ground.

He was standing at the peak of the Mausoleum of Zhou.

Early morning at the Orthodox Academy had long since ceased being so peaceful and quiet. The Separate Garden was somewhat better. Zhexiu was lying on his bed, recovering from his injuries. Although Tang Thirty-Six was much more diligent than before, it was impossible for him to wake up at five. Xuanyuan Po made his way along the lake from the kitchen on the other side and arrived in front of the house. Looking at a certain window on the second floor of the house, he shouted, "Chen Changsheng, come down and eat."

Previously on the other side of the lake, he had seen very clearly that Chen Changsheng was by the window. From this, he knew that it was already five o'clock. The Orthodox Academy had never required a timekeeping deviceChen Changsheng served that purpose.

There was no response from the window.

Xuanyuan Po waved around the fat blue lobster in his hand, shouting, "This is really tasty when taken with chili oil and flour mantou. I left one especially for you. Hurry on down, or else Tang Thirty-Six will hear and come steal it from us."

There was still no answer.

Xuanyuan Po felt somewhat bewildered. Clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp, he made his way upstairs. Pushing open the door to Chen Changsheng's room, he said, "Brushing teeth shouldn't take this long."

There was no reply because there was no one in the room. The window was open, the morning breeze gusting in and lifting up a corner of the bedsheets.

Chen Changsheng looked at the Stainless Sword in his right hand, confirming that the sword was real.

Then he confirmed that he himself was real.

This signified that he really had entered the Garden of Zhou. In other words, he had re-discovered the Garden of Zhou.

That illusion of the black monolith now seemed like the path to the Garden of Zhou. As for the black monolith's original body, it should be the key to the Garden of Zhou.

He clearly remembered that when he was leaving the Garden of Zhou, the sky had been collapsing.

Of the miniature worlds discovered by humans, the Garden of Zhou was the most stable and also the largest. Ultimately, however, it was still a shard of space and could not possibly be as firm as its source world. So whether it was him or Zhu Luo and Mei Lisha outside Hanqiu City, they had all believed that the Garden of Zhou had definitely been annihilated. No one had imagined that the Garden of Zhou still existed. It had managed to re-establish its laws and then, truly and with great difficulty, stabilized itself once more.

But a big change had already occurred.

It truly had not been too long since he departed from the Garden of Zhou. It had definitely not even been half a year, but the Garden of Zhou was already incredibly different.

This world had become much more overgrown, much more ruined, perhaps a result of that catastrophe in which the heavens and earth were overturned. The ground was covered in cracks and the water in the sea of grass had grown turbid. In the distant mountains, signs of landslides could be seen. The mountain springs had dried, as had many of the small lakes. The earth was a picture of desolation, and the green trees were caked with dust. The entire sight was extremely miserable.

The cries of insects could no longer be heard from the sea of grass, and the grass itself was on the verge of dying. There were naturally no shoals of fish, but if one looked closely, one could spot a few fish with their bellies up, weakly spitting out a few bubbles.

Even that sun in the sky, that disk of light, had grown somewhat dim.