novelraw Page 355
Page 355
Suddenly, he straightened his back, pointed his spear forward, gripped the butt of the spear at his waist with one hand, and stretched forward to control the shaft, assuming a standard level spear stance. Looking at the heavily armored cavalry that was about to charge at him, his eyes were bloodshot: "You Tartar dogs!!! Come on!!!"
The sound of horses' hooves thundered past...
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In the vast rice paddies, a dark-skinned farmer with a face resembling Zhang Jing is working in the fields, supporting his ox. On the ridge beside him, a child with a topknot is running and playing.
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The bright moon hangs high in the sky, and the sounds of string and wind instruments fill the air from the pavilions along the river.
During the banquet, a middle-aged man in official robes, whose face vaguely resembled Zhang Jing, raised his wine cup and, with a smile, addressed the group of officials around him:
"...Meeting each other is not enough, let alone having such a virtuous host. The night is clear, the wine is strong, and the host is as beautiful as jade; a single cup is worth more than ten thousand coins..."
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On the wide lake, a fishing boat was moored, and an old man with a weathered face stood on the bow. He skillfully cast his fishing net, and the old man's face clearly resembled Zhang Jing's...
In the distance, several other similar fishing boats were visible, and the faint sound of fishermen's songs drifted from them...
"...Gulls and egrets fly together over the river in Wujiang, while perch and mandarin fish are plump and fat in the Xiangjiang River in autumn, and smoke rises from the ice-cold kitchen at dawn..."
"...Even when I'm full and drunk from eating fish sashimi, I can still find joy in the tranquility of the green willow branches and the carefree life on the reed-covered beach..."
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Amidst swirling yellow dust, several monks dressed as Buddhist monks trekked through the desert, carrying packs on their backs. One of the younger monks, bearing a resemblance to Zhang Jing, with calloused lips, asked the older member of the group, "Senior brother, how far is the city of Kucha from here?"
"It shouldn't be too far... According to what that merchant said, I calculate that it should be about half a day's journey before we see it."
“Senior brother… this journey to the west is truly arduous. We have been away from home for over a year, and we don’t know how much longer we will have to travel before we reach that Western Paradise…”
“Junior brother, have you not heard: When Heaven is about to entrust a great task to someone, it will first test his mind, strain his muscles and bones, starve his body, leave him destitute, and thwart his actions, so as to strengthen his resolve and increase his abilities. We are on our journey to the West to seek the Dharma, and I believe that the heavens and Buddhas will surely protect us.”
The monks continued walking, talking to each other. A short while later, one of them suddenly pointed ahead in alarm: "Look! Look!!!"
Volume Two: The Truth Hidden Behind History Books: Chapter 711 The Origin of Everything
But then a dark cloud rose on the horizon, casting a hazy yellow hue over the sky and obscuring the sunlight, causing the entire world to darken rapidly...
"Oh no!" The leading monk remembered what he had heard about the desert and immediately became anxious: "It's yellow sand! Quickly find a place to hide!"
However, at this moment, the monks looked at the vast, flat, and open desert around them, with nowhere to hide.
Just as the group hesitated, a sudden gust of wind arose, followed by thick clouds of sand that roared like wild beasts, engulfing the monks...
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The wasteland was barren and desolate, with all the green plants stripped bare. Even the bark of the few trees that stood alone was gone, and the ground was cracked like wounds.
It was nighttime, and a crescent moon hung high in the sky. On the ground, a group of ragged people sat around a campfire to keep warm. The campfire was small, probably because it was difficult to collect more firewood in the area.
Further out, there were large groups of people sitting or lying down, stretching for miles. Many of them were barely clothed and emaciated beyond recognition.
So many people, yet all were silent, seemingly lacking even the strength to speak, with only occasional sobs heard...
Beside the campfire, a short, thin man whispered, "What can we do if the government refuses to help us?"
"Are these tens of thousands of refugees really going to starve to death?!" Another middle-aged man, whose face vaguely resembled Zhang Jing, exclaimed.
"I heard there's plenty of stock in the county town..."
"Yes, the Huang family has already moved to the county town. Their grain reserves alone amount to dozens of cartloads..."
"Why don't we attack that county town, seize the grain, and distribute it to the villagers..."
“No good… Attacking the county town is tantamount to rebellion…” a man dressed in tattered scholar’s clothes muttered from a corner.
After these words, silence fell over the crowd once more...
The oppressive atmosphere subsided for a moment...
Suddenly, a burly man dressed in hemp robes, with large joints, stood up like a lean tiger, clenching his fist and flashing a sharp light in his eyes: "We have no food left. We will die whether we perish or launch a great rebellion. If we are going to die anyway, shall we die for our country?!"
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Countless lines converge at one point, and more and more data gather, just like a giant spider web. Now it returns to its origin. This is the remnant of countless generations of "reincarnation," the imprint accumulated at the bottom of the abyss.
This was an extremely wondrous transcendental experience, as if at this moment he began to travel upstream against the flow of time, his gaze transcending the mundane perspective and beginning to observe towards a higher dimension...
However, even for a third-tier cultivator, such intensity was still too great. At the same time, blood began to flow from Zhang Jing's nose...
As more and more images converged, he saw merchants traveling between countries in horse-drawn carriages.
Upon witnessing the solar eclipse, a scholar stood on a high platform, watching the panicked masses fleeing in the distance. His face showed worry, and he recorded on bamboo slips: "On the first day of the third month of autumn, the stars did not align in the house, the blind musicians played drums, the stewards rushed about, and the common people ran away..."
I saw shamans dressed in magnificent robes, performing exaggerated dances in the palace, praying for blessings from heaven...
With the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth, Zhang Jing, in his bedroom, swallowed back the mouthful of blood that was about to spill out...
At the same time as Yu Ling was dreaming, he smeared a piece of blood that had been flowing from the tip of his nose, took out the "Demon-Refining Pot," and gulped it down...
it's not finished yet……
He was like someone standing outside of time, observing all of this; he saw the immense flood that could engulf everything…
I saw a flying boat traveling in the sky...
I saw a gigantic floating city fall from the clouds to the ground...
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Finally, he saw the source of everything (it was a gigantic creature whose form was indeterminate), or perhaps it could even be called a "creature"—or was that unknown?
He seems to exist in this world, and at the same time in different worlds, scattering countless "seeds" across this planet.
At the same moment he saw Him, even if it was just a fleeting glimpse from that fragment of memory, Zhang Jing's spirit, and the more essential level beyond spirit, finally reached the limit of what he could bear. Even with the repair from the Demon Refining Pot's spiritual liquid, his very existence began to show problems, and cracks began to appear on his body...
At that very moment, a notebook with a brown cover and an antique style suddenly floated up from a huge table in front of him!
It was that wish book!
It appeared beside Zhang Jing in the bedroom, on the table in front of Zhang Jing sitting on the throne, and even in every fragment of his memory. Up until the very beginning, it was as imposing as a mountain, completely suppressing the impact of that fleeting glimpse!
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Letting out a long breath, Zhang Jing, seated on his throne, looked at the wishing book on the table. The book lay calmly beside him, like an ordinary, thick-covered book. However, Zhang Jing knew perfectly well that, in this place and at this time, the fact that this book was present in the abyss was anything but normal…
What's more... he was still somewhat shaken by what he just witnessed. If it weren't for this wishing book... he would have been in grave danger this time...
He knew perfectly well just how lucky he was this time!
If it were someone else, even with such an opportunity, they would have reached this point, which would also be the end! In other words, the Heavenly Punishment Sword might not be something that a cultivator below the fourth rank can handle.
This is something that even Zhang Taihe probably doesn't know, since the knowledge he possesses is also instilled, and he doesn't have a personal experience of higher levels.
However, now that he has crossed that threshold, the benefits for him are enormous. It almost means that he has already stepped halfway across the Saint level, or even gone further. For a considerable period of time afterward, his cultivation will be free from any obstacles.
Standing at his current level, he has a deeper understanding of the stages of cultivation. Taking the path of the Celestial Venerable as an example, it progresses step by step from the body to the spirit, from the spirit to the soul, and even to more essential levels.
Humans are inherently weak, yet the human body possesses limitless potential, and the reason for this is...
Volume Two: The Truth Hidden Behind History Books: Chapter 712 Pan Chi
Zhang Jing couldn't help but recall that initial, fleeting glimpse; he didn't know what it was...
However, he was certain that evolution, at least in this world, was inaccurate.
The origin of life in this world was not an evolution from inorganic to organic matter, or from simple organisms to complex organisms...
On the contrary, the earliest life originated from the sowing of some great being...
Therefore, the path of the Celestial Venerable allows one to acquire the power of those powerful beings, gradually advance in rank, and glimpse higher levels...
This is the true nature of the so-called cultivation of immortality.
There may be more hidden secrets that need to be explored...
As he pondered, Zhang Jing, sitting on the throne, seemed to pierce through layers of void, his gaze meeting once again with that of Zhang Jing in the bedroom. At this moment, Zhang Jing was both in the bedroom and on the throne; both were him. This seemingly bizarre, almost schizophrenic scene felt as normal to Zhang Jing as eating and drinking.
The imprints of countless generations have brought him more knowledge and insights, but he still needs to spend a considerable amount of time organizing and absorbing this information. It is not as simple as adding a bunch of memories to his mind. If that were the case, it would definitely have a huge impact on his personality, and might even make him have the illusion of who he really is.
After Zhang Jing took this step, he governed all the imprints with his own personality. To put it less accurately, it was like reading a book written by someone else. It did not affect his own personality essence. This is the core issue of primary and secondary.
It can be said that Zhang Jing has now truly grasped the essence of his position on the surface of the abyss. Even though he is still a third-level cultivator, in a sense, he has begun to peek into the realm of gods.
On the throne, Zhang Jing turned his gaze to the murals outside the curtain. He knew that these murals were also a kind of imprint. His gaze fell on the two clearly defined earth deities at the bottom of the murals.
Through the marks left by the imperial edict, he established a connection with the two land deities, and he could clearly see their every move at that moment.