Chapter 45 What is my Dao Heart?

"Enough with the nonsense," He Mu interrupted coldly from behind, "Who sent you to guard this earth god temple?"

Qianxiang gritted his teeth, and a large handful of white silk burst forth from his hand, deflecting the two men's swords.

Upon hearing the voice, his expression shifted, and he quickly retreated several steps, dodging Qianxiang's attack.

Qianxiang sneered, "Shouldn't you have asked this kind of question in the first place?"

Hearing the voices, he was starting to get confused. He didn't know how Qianxiang and Murong He knew each other, or how Murong He managed to get to Fangze Mountain and kill Qianxiang.

Moreover, judging from the way Qianxiang died, Murong He probably hated it to the extreme, which is why he killed it so cruelly.

Is there some deep-seated hatred between them?

He Mu seemed to have no intention of revealing his identity at this moment. He changed his hand seals and once again manipulated the Golden Crow Sword to fly through the wind and engage in a fierce battle with Qian Xiang.

Hearing the voice, he didn't follow up with the attack this time. He squinted at Qianxiang's body, his wolf ears standing up sharply.

He had just taken advantage of the chaos to unleash two horizontal sword energies, which grazed Qianxiang's body and sliced ​​off half of his shoulder, leaving a deep wound that exposed the bone.

Although Qianxiang seemed to feel no pain and could still move freely, he could faintly hear human voices and see a strange mark on the white bones.

The mark must have been made on the bone with a branding iron; it was shaped like half a butterfly and was a bright red, as if it were burning.

Hearing the voice, it dodged a few attacks and leaned close to He Mu, asking, "What's that mark on its shoulder?"

He glanced at it upon hearing this, then asked, "Have you ever heard of the 'Night Wanderer' in Cangzhou?"

"Night Wanderer..."

Hearing the voice, he hesitated for a moment.

In his memory, many people had mentioned to him that "Night Wanderer" was an assassination organization that had sprung up outside Cangzhou City in the last two years, specializing in capturing and killing demon disciples from the various immortal sects.

The timing of the Night Wanderer's appearance, right after the Heavenly Spiritual Root was exposed, makes it easy to guess that this organization was likely created by the Heavenly Court to force out Wenrensheng's whereabouts.

Hearing the voice, he hesitated and said, "Did it do this? But it's clearly dead, so how could it affect the variables in the mortal world?"

“It wasn’t done by him alone,” He Mu said. “I’ve been in the martial world longer than you, so I know a little about the strange tales of the upper realm.”

"Under the Heavenly Emperor is an official named Si Ming, who is in charge of the fates of all people in the mortal realm. However, for some reason, she hates demons. Years ago, she was at odds with Wenquxing, who was a demon, and now she is relentlessly pursuing the demons in the mortal realm."

"After hearing that a new Heavenly Spiritual Root had been born in a demon, they became even more determined to find that Heavenly Spiritual Root, like mad dogs."

He Mu could roughly guess what Si Ming wanted to do: the "Night Wanderer" was wantonly killing monsters in the lower realm and constantly squeezing out their opportunities to ascend.

This way, not only could they force Wenquxing to hand over Wenrensheng, but they could also use this to expand their influence in the Heavenly Court, hoping to one day dominate the Upper Realm.

This was indeed the first time Wen Rensheng had heard of such things. Although he had been by Wenquxing's side for two years, his master never told him about the Heavenly Court. He only told him to stay in Cangzhou City and not to go anywhere else.

He Muchongqian raised his head and said, "That mark is the unique mark of the Night Wanderer, engraved on its bones, which means that it has become a loyal follower of the Fate Master."

Hearing the voice, he gripped the sword hilt nervously and said, "So, it's staying here because of the Heavenly Spiritual Root?"

Wen Rensheng had never told Murong He that he possessed a Heavenly Spiritual Root.

He had a vague feeling that Qianxiang was targeting him, and that he might drag Murong He into danger along with him.

Wen Rensheng disliked troubling others, especially since he wasn't familiar with the monk Murong and didn't want to take him into danger.

"Um, brother..."

He pursed his lips, hesitated, and said...

"I'm sorry, I hid some things from you, I—"

"Stop talking now, there are plenty of things I've been hiding from you," He Mu interrupted him. "Your sword hasn't developed sentience yet, has it?"

"Hmm, not yet, why?"

He Mu smiled and said, "I'll refine the Thousand Forms for you, using it as a stepping stone for your ascension and to help you sharpen your blade. How about it?"

"...You've refined it?" Hearing the voice, he couldn't help but look at him. "How did you refine it?"

He Mu turned to the side, and the Golden Crow Sword finally landed firmly in his palm, held at shoulder height.

“I have my own methods, but there is one thing you have to do yourself.”

"You must overcome your mental block and kill it with your own hands."

As soon as he finished speaking, he took the lead and charged forward with his sword, clearing a path for Wen Rensheng.

Qianxiang had never stopped attacking since the very beginning. It howled incessantly like a mad ghost, desperately trying to kill He Mu and Wen Rensheng.

He Mu did not aim for his life directly, and his fighting style was very conservative.

Normally, He Mu wouldn't use this lingering, affectionate fighting style; he would usually kill someone within five moves.

However, in order to cooperate with Wenrensheng, he still tried his best to create enough space for the child to exert his full strength, so as to help him overcome this hurdle in his heart, break through his realm, and comprehend his own Dao heart.

Hearing the voice, he froze on the spot, the sword in his hand trembling slightly.

"overcome……"

What hurdle is he still struggling to overcome?

For some reason, after hearing He Mu's words, as he looked at Qian Xiang's mangled body, he suddenly recalled the scene of Wenren Jing dying in his arms.

Murong He said he wanted to refine it, to make it part of his weapon, and to use it as a stepping stone to crush others.

But he didn't seem to have that courage.

For two years after the clan chief's death, Wenrensheng was still trapped in the terrifying nightmare of that rainy night. Although things had improved in the past few months, he had only been numbly avoiding the memory and never truly moved on.

His heart pounded even harder as he heard voices, and he felt the sword in his hand getting heavier and heavier, almost too heavy to lift.

Looking down, he saw that his palms were covered in a thick layer of blood. He was breathing heavily and hurriedly tried to wipe it clean before catching up with He Mu.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't wipe it away or clean it up. It gushed out like a gushing spring, and soon the blood covered the ground.

"Calm down," a voice trembled as it spoke, "Don't...don't be afraid..."

He swallowed hard and took several deep breaths, but it was no use.

I can't lift the sword.

The Thousand Faces, not far away, seemed to have grown much stronger than before. The white silk in his hand transformed into thousands of blades that came rushing towards him, and the frequency of his attacks became increasingly dense.

However, its body shape became increasingly unrecognizable, its face was almost completely destroyed, and the skin that had been stitched up was cracking inch by inch due to the long struggle.

He Mu flipped over and leaped onto the Buddhist platform, waving his sword left and right to deflect two white blades, and hurriedly glanced at Wenren Sheng behind him.

He looked terrified, as if haunted by some nightmare, his thin frame trembling slightly.

He's still the same as before; when he's unhappy, he likes to hug himself, which looks so pitiful that it breaks your heart.

But right now, Mu can't help him directly. Just like when he fused with the Heavenly Spiritual Root back then, the matter of comprehending the Dao Heart can only be done by himself.

He pondered for a moment, then shook out two copper coins from his sleeve, secretly made a hand seal, and threw them toward Qianxiang.

The two copper coins twirled twice in mid-air before crashing to the ground with a "ding".

Immediately, two beams of white mist shot out from the center of the coin, instantly enveloping Qianxiang's body in white.

He Mu breathed a sigh of relief: "It'll probably be a little better if I don't see that disgusting face..."

Hearing voices and making noise, his pupils narrowed slightly.

He Mu shielded him from the blood and flesh of Qian Xiang's dismemberment, and hearing human voices, he felt that he could gradually breathe again.

My head was still incredibly foggy, as if filled with countless nightmares, and even the ground beneath my feet felt like soft, floating waves.

"ha……"

He let out a difficult breath.

He couldn't lift the sword.

Why can't I lift the sword anymore?

Was it because of fear that he dared not kill?

When he was ten years old, he killed a sword cultivator in the Mahayana stage. At that time, he realized that the swordsman must not retreat, so he was not a coward who was afraid of killing.

But why is it that when faced with the enemy who killed his family, he hesitates to pick up the sword? It's as if it's weighed down by an immense force, about to drag him into an endless nightmare.

Is it because they are unwilling to kill, or because they are unable to kill?

"It's clearly not..."

Hearing the voice, he felt so pained that he wanted to curl up. He held his knees and gasped for breath, his mind replaying the image of Wenren Jing before his death.

Those unstoppable blood holes, and the increasingly weak heartbeats—his Heavenly Spirit Root allowed him to hear these dying sounds so clearly and thoroughly that they remain vivid in his memory to this day.

He clearly didn't want to; he hated this fox demon to the core. He wanted to avenge his family who raised and loved him. How could he possibly back down from this sword strike!

But what should I do...?

I can't lift it, I can't pick it up, I'm going crazy...!

If only the mountain god were here, by his side. The mountain god always guided him in his cultivation, could guide him through his confusion, and would tell him what to do in times like these. If only he hadn't left, if only he hadn't left Fangze Mountain, if only... if only...

Hearing voices and the constant whistling of the wind, his pupils almost closed to slits.

His thoughts, carried by the wind, traveled back to the torrential rain two years ago, back to the weak, helpless self who had lost his loved ones.

But--

He gritted his teeth, and two lines of tears slid down his cheeks.

There are no "what ifs".

He's grown up now and can no longer rely on anyone.

Upon receiving this answer, Wen Rensheng felt a sharp, exhilarating pleasure. The force in his palm gradually returned, and the spiritual energy within his body began to grow.

He wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, looked up again, and saw that Qianxiang was still fighting fiercely with Hemu. The fox demon seemed to have not let him go, and its reddened eyes would occasionally look at him.

This was his enemy, and for the sake of his deceased clan chief, he had to kill it.

Hearing the voice, he flicked his sword with two fingers, cutting his fingertips and channeling a large amount of spiritual energy into the sword.

A powerful spiritual force exploded instantly, shattering the thousand-faced white blades one after another. In an instant, the air around Wen Rensheng froze into frost, and even his eyelashes were covered with a thin layer of snow-white.

He focused his mind and finally raised his sword to attack Qianxiang.

He Mu had been paying attention to Wen Rensheng's situation from beginning to end, and seeing that he seemed to have come to terms with his feelings, he immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

Just now, he was even prepared to disregard his status and hand over the weapon behind him, the Lust Killer, to Wenrensheng.

After the spiritual energy returned, Wenrensheng finally broke the restriction on the Heavenly Spiritual Root in his body. His eyes were cold, and his sword strikes were extremely fast. In just a few seconds, he was close to Qianxiang again.

Qianxiang could also sense the strangeness of hearing human voices. Its moves became increasingly chaotic, and it hurriedly shouted, "You, Heavenly Spiritual Root... It's you again! Why aren't you dead yet!"

"I'm not dead yet."

Hearing the voice, her eyes were fixed on him, her tone unusually calm.

"You couldn't kill me two years ago at Fangze Mountain."

"Nine years ago at the Guiyi Sword Sect, you couldn't kill me. Eighteen years ago, when I was with my mother, you still couldn't kill me."

"Today, I will kill you with my own hands."

Because of this celestial spiritual root, he was entangled by this fox demon from birth and was chased and killed repeatedly, even after he went to the underworld.

Because of the Heavenly Court's delusional attempt to control everything, Wenrensheng had very few happy days in his short life, so it was impossible for him to be magnanimous and not harbor any hatred.

Today is the day to put an end to all of this.

Upon hearing the voice, he gripped the hilt of his sword with his five fingers. The spiritual energy in his palm was so abundant that it began to seep out continuously. A point of white light condensed at the tip of his sword, spreading along the edge until the entire sword was tempered into the color of ice and snow.

He had made up his mind; from now on, this sword would be called "Heavenly Heart".

Hearing the voice, he leaped up, tucked the Heavenly Heart in his hand behind his shoulder, and stared intently at Qianxiang's neck.

Then, the white mist that enveloped it dissipated instantly.

Qianxiang stared at Wenrensheng with horror, just as it had two years ago in the heavy rain when it saw the sixteen-year-old boy unleash his sword out of hatred.

In that instant, the scene before Wen Rensheng transformed into hundreds of blue butterflies, which fluttered toward him.

Hearing the voice, he gasped for breath, and the speed at which the sword slashed down suddenly slowed down countless times.

"Sheng Sheng," a voice came from beside me, "Well done!"

“I heard human voices.”

Another voice,

"Did you hear your Dao heart?"

His Daoist heart.

What is the Daoist mind that I have gleaned from those painful memories?

It was through the profound loneliness of having no relatives or friends, the fleeting happiness of gaining and then losing it, and the agonizing growth that he came to this realization after all of it.

A butterfly fluttered past his ear, its flapping wings making a sound so clear it was like the beating of a heart.

When he came to his senses, Qianxiang's head fell to the ground with a "thud".

Its eyes were not closed, and the mark of the Night Wanderer was still left on its bones. However, its soul had been completely severed. After waiting in place for two seconds, it turned into a few wisps of ashes and disappeared.

Not a drop of blood has stained the heart of heaven.

A tiny flame flickered at the tip of the sword, then quickly went out, leaving behind a beautiful, delicate blue butterfly mark.

"Its illusion spells have been engraved into your sword," He Mu's eyes lit up as he leaped off the roof beam. "From now on, you can use this illusion spell too. It's a good thing."

He had been crouching on the beam and had seen everything clearly. Hearing the voices, his sword strike was extremely beautiful, without any hesitation or slackness. It was clearly a state that one could achieve after becoming one with the sword.

After that, this sword was no longer an ordinary item, but a divine weapon that could be compared with the Golden Crow, the Azure Jade, and even the Color Killer.

If you're lucky, you might even comprehend the Dao Heart.

He Mu was delighted. He brushed the snow off his shoulders, walked up to Wen Rensheng, and looked at him with a smile.

"Truly amazing, worthy of being called the God of Literature—"

Before he could finish speaking, the newly born divine warrior, carrying a chilling aura, approached He Mu's neck.

He Mu's pupils narrowed slightly, and he didn't utter the second half of his sentence.

Wenren Sheng raised his eyes, his gaze as cold as ice, frozen with a thin layer of frost. This was probably the first time Mu had ever seen him look at her with such eyes.

It was devoid of emotion, colder than the frost of the coldest winter.

"you,"

Hearing a voice, he slowly opened his lips.

"Who exactly is it?"

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Author's note: My identity has been revealed!

I think the light layer of cream on my eyelashes looks so pretty! And sometimes, when I have a cool expression, I look cute.