Chapter 207 Her Path
After that harrowing racing accident, Jiang Peiling traveled to a foreign country to heal her heartbreak.
Today, she stands atop Mount Everest, the highest peak in the world.
Once again, we are challenging the limits.
She was determined to conquer this majestic snow-capped mountain and experience the grandeur of "standing at the summit" atop the mountains.
Once this wish is fulfilled, she will return to the track and continue to write her own legend.
Song Sha used the insurance compensation left by her deceased husband to take over a small breakfast stall on a street corner.
At four o'clock in the morning, before dawn, she was already busy in the rising steam.
He personally handled every step of the process, from kneading the dough and preparing the filling to cooking the porridge.
She knew that in the catering industry, if you wanted to make money, you had to endure more hardship than others.
At first, business was slow, but she remained calm and focused on making every basket of buns and every pot of porridge.
Gradually, the neighbors all fell in love with the taste of her home cooking.
Thin skin, generous filling, thick porridge, and fragrant rice.
With more repeat customers, the steamers in the shop were stacked higher and higher, and Song Sha's apron was never dry from morning till night.
As she packed up to close her stall, she counted her increasingly thick wallet, and a smile unconsciously crept onto her face.
This steady and thriving business has given her a renewed sense of purpose in life.
Bai Li, on the other hand, returned to school.
The laboratory instruments lit up their indicator lights again, and the data that had been dormant for a long time began to flow on the screen once more.
To her surprise, her colleagues discovered that the girl who had returned from her disappearance not only quickly regained her research rhythm, but also brought new life to the experiments that had been put on hold.
A set of data accurate to four decimal places is displayed on the paper.
The mentor adjusted her glasses and deliberately set aside an extra ten minutes during the group meeting to discuss her findings.
Even in the dead of night, Bai Li's desk lamp was still on.
On the left, there was a mountain of reference materials, and on the right, there were past exam papers filled with annotations.
The lip print on the rim of the coffee cup records her daily race against time.
After Chu Xuanji submitted the Zhong family case file to her superiors, the decision was made faster than expected.
With a transfer order, she became the new director of the Paranormal Affairs Bureau.
This seemingly lateral transfer is actually a disguised form of demotion.
Being transferred from the center of power to a peripheral department is, in officialdom, a silent demotion.
But a smile appeared on Chu Xuanji's lips.
This Xuanmen department, which has been controlled by Zhong Zhengming for many years, deserves a thorough and decisive storm long ago.
The moldy files in the archives, the intricate web of relationships in the office, and those shady traditional rules will all be swept away in this reform.
In the stillness of the night, Chu Xuanji burned incense and sat quietly.
The spiritual energy flowing within his dantian grew increasingly abundant.
She managed to balance the ups and downs of officialdom with her progress in spiritual cultivation.
As the banquet drew to a close, everyone was slightly tipsy amidst the clinking of glasses.
By the time the last tea and snacks were cleared away, everyone had finished sharing their recent updates.
Someone started the conversation: "A-Yao, what about you?"
Before he could finish speaking, a sudden gust of mountain wind arose.
The night sky, which was just moments ago clear and bright, is now covered with dark clouds.
Electricity snaked through the clouds, and muffled thunder grew louder as it approached, rattling the windowpanes.
Lu Yao's hand, which was holding the teacup, suddenly paused.
"Gentlemen," she said, her clothes fluttering as she rose, "it's time to go back."
Amidst the stunned silence of the audience, Chu Xuanji's teacup clattered to the ground.
She asked in a trembling voice, "Could it be... the Tribulation of the Nine Heavens?"
Lu Yao turned around and smiled, her eyes seeming to sparkle like a river of stars.
"Master, you are wise and discerning." She looked up at the rolling thunderclouds. "My merits are complete, and my foundation for cultivation is established. Today—"
A streak of purple lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating her smiling eyes and brows.
"When you step onto the rainbow bridge, you will soar straight to the clouds."
Chu Xuanji suddenly burst into laughter, "Good! Good! To be able to attain enlightenment and ascend to immortality in this Dharma-ending Age, you truly deserve to be my disciple, Chu Xuanji's disciple!"
A sudden gust of wind arose, and the fallen leaves all over the mountain danced like golden butterflies.
With a flick of her sleeves, Lu Yao conjured ten yellow talismans into streams of light, instantly transporting everyone back to their starting point, a thousand miles away.
At the summit of Jinglan Mountain, she stood alone against the vast sky.
"Come on." She gently stroked the crape myrtle wood sword at her waist, the blade gleaming with a shimmering purple light.
The first bolt of purple lightning tore through the clouds, and Lu Yao drew her sword.
The seemingly ordinary wooden sword emitted a clear and melodious dragon's roar, its tip pointing directly at the heavenly thunder.
The moment the lightning and sword energy collided, the entire mountain range trembled.
Fine cracks appeared on the wooden sword, but it repaired itself in the lightning and fire.
The second and third bolts of lightning followed one after another, each more ferocious than the last.
Lu Yao's swordsmanship was like a rainbow, each strike precisely cleaving through the lightning.
When the fourth lightning bolt struck, her hair bun came undone, and as her black hair flew about, the patterns on the Ziwei wooden sword shone as brightly as a galaxy.
...
The eighth bolt of heavenly lightning crashed down with earth-shattering force.
Lu Yao held the sword with both hands, and the sword's purple light surged.
Amidst the lightning, the surface of the wooden sword began to carbonize and peel away, revealing the sword bone inside, which had been refined to a crystal-clear, jade-like state.
The final tribulation lightning strike was delayed.
Amidst the churning dark clouds, auspicious seven-colored clouds unexpectedly appeared.
As the colorful auspicious clouds gradually dissipated, Lu Yao found herself in a void and ethereal space.
Here, there is no distinction between heaven and earth, only the flowing starlight and the rhythm of the Dao.
The path to immortality is clear; the way to immortality is complete.
The voice seemed to come from the highest heavens, yet it also seemed to echo in her heart, carrying an unchanging rhythm.
It is the voice of Heaven.
Lu Yao was slightly taken aback: "Isn't there still one last lightning tribulation to go through?"
Ripples spread through the void, and the voice of Heaven resounded once more:
A thousand years ago, you severed your immortal bones to pray for rain and save the people; that was your first tribulation.
It turns out that, in the darkness, Heaven had already recorded that sacrifice as a tribulation for ascension.
These eight bolts of lightning today are merely the final few to complete the form.
You may come with me to the Upper Realm.
As the sound faded, a vast world appeared before my eyes.
The magnificent palaces and pavilions floated among the clouds, where cranes and mythical beasts roamed freely, and countless beings even more powerful than her cultivated within them.
Lu Yao stared for a long time, "May I ask Heaven's will, if I go to the Upper Realm, can I ever return to this Realm?"
[Once gone, forever. A day in the upper realm is a thousand years in the lower realm.]
So, once gone, in the blink of an eye, the departed will turn to dust.
Lu Yao hesitated for only a moment.
"I will stay here. Now that I have achieved immortality, what difference does it make where I cultivate?"
[The Foolish Child]
For the first time, the voice of Heaven carried a sigh.
The spiritual energy in this realm is scarce, making it difficult to achieve great things in cultivation; one may be stuck here.
Lu Yao bowed respectfully, "Compared to immortality, I would rather watch over this mortal world."
Cultivating oneself begins with cultivating the Tao.
Her path has never been in the heavens.
Her path has never been about transcending the mundane world or remaining aloof.
Her path lies in knowing that the road ahead will be difficult, yet still being willing to walk side by side with her comrades.
It lies in having witnessed the vicissitudes of life yet still choosing to protect.
It lies in possessing the power to move mountains and overturn seas, yet willingly bowing down to the common people.
Vivid faces appeared before Lu Yao's eyes—
Jiang Jinshu's lips pressed into a straight line as she drew her bow; Ji Nian'an's slender silhouette cast on her teaching materials late at night; Bai Li's desk lamp that was always on until the very end in the laboratory; Song Sha's bloodshot eyes amidst the steaming breakfast stall...
Their palm lines, whether deep or shallow, all bear the same stubborn destiny.
They swallowed their hardships, forged their wounds into armor, and stubbornly raised their battle flags on their respective battlefields of life.
Suddenly, the crape myrtle wood sword emitted a clear and melodious sword sound, and the sword's surface reflected the years they had spent together.
Wounds bandaged together, hands clasped in despair, figures standing side by side before dawn.
"I, Lu Yao, hereby swear—" Lu Yao brandished her sword, the sword energy transforming into countless streams of light that flew across the four seas and eight wastelands, "As long as there is still one woman in this world who is fighting, my sword will forever sing for her."
The clouds on the mountaintop suddenly dispersed, and the rising sun cast her shadow long, long.
The shadow was no longer a solitary cultivator, but a totem overlapping with the figures of countless women.
"This is the path I must cultivate. Together with them, let this world—"
She suddenly swung her sword towards the sky, and the sword energy stretched for three thousand miles.
"Better."
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