Ancient Secret Realm (3) No Male or Female Protagonist
The entrance to the secret realm was located beneath the Fusang tree in Zhongdu. Guards verified their identities before allowing entry. A group of elders and clan leaders stood guard around the tree, keeping an eye on the disciples within. After escorting the last disciple into the secret realm, Cang He turned and joined their ranks.
When Rong Si came over, Cang He was staring at the image reflected in the secret realm with no expression.
"It seems that your four disciples all have their own opportunities." Rong Si greeted the others and sat next to Canghe.
Cang He turned his eyes to look at him: "Play chess?"
"Aren't you worried about them?"
"I believe in my disciples."
——
In a rainy alley, a young man dressed in a mountain blue hurried through the rain, not even holding an umbrella. A voice called out from the rain: "Qingqiu, you just came back from outside?"
The young man paused and said loudly, "Yes. It's raining heavily, Auntie, please go back early."
"Hey, okay."
The young man walked further and further away, but the people behind him were still talking.
"That's the son of the Ling family, right? He's grown up so much now? I heard a few years ago that he and his mother were arguing about not wanting to go to school anymore."
"That happened many years ago. The Ling family's wife passed away early, leaving them as orphans and widows. It was not easy. I heard that he entered the immortal sect a few years ago."
"Oh, that's incredible! He'll be an immortal in the future!"
Ling Qingqiu walked through the slightly shabby fence and into his own courtyard. Strings of dried sausages hung under the eaves, and Ling Qingqiu smiled even more. He used his spiritual energy to dry the water droplets on his body and stepped into the house.
"Mom, I'm back."
A thin old woman walked out of the inner room: "...Qiu'er?"
"Mom, it's me." Ling Qingqiu walked closer to his mother and bent down to let her touch his face.
Ling's mother's eyesight wasn't very good, and when she saw it was Ling Qingqiu, a smile formed in the corners of her eyes. "Haven't you eaten yet? I made some sausages for you a few days ago, and they're perfect for you today. Look at you, you've lost weight again."
Ling Qingqiu stopped her: "Let me do it, mother. I've finished my work at home today, so I can stay home with you for a few more days."
"Okay, good. Yesterday, your sister-in-law Chen gave me some pickles, but I didn't want any. You've always loved them since you were little, so I'll go get some for you."
"Please go slowly. The road is slippery in the rain."
"Okay, I'm in good health!"
After Ling Qingqiu joined the Xuanxiao Sect, he rarely returned home. Although he was only an outer disciple, he was needed in many places. To be home with his mother, he worked tirelessly, squeezing several days' worth of work into two days, leaving him with a few days off.
After dinner, the mother and son sat under the eaves and talked.
"You're back just in time. Your father's memorial day is almost here. Tomorrow, if it doesn't rain, come with your mother to pay respects to your father. He hasn't seen you for a long time." The smile on Ling's mother's face had not faded since Ling Qingqiu returned home.
People like to nag when they get older, and Ling Qingqiu didn't mind, responding to his mother's words one by one. Ling's mother was old, and he didn't know how much longer he could accompany her. Being able to listen to her nagging was something he really wanted.
He didn't tell Ling's mother that whenever he was assigned to a mission, he would always find a way to pass by his father's grave, offering a pot of wine or some cakes. If he couldn't return home in time, he would go to see his father.
Seeing Ling's mother rubbing his knees from time to time, Ling Qingqiu felt a little distressed. His family was poor when he was a child, and his mother worked all day to support him. She could hardly afford even warm clothes, and over time, she developed a chronic illness.
He placed his hand on his mother's knee, the warm spiritual energy soothing the pain. Ling's mother stared at the white light emanating from his hand, her eyes wide with wonder. "This is..." She smiled again. "Look at what I've learned. Our Qiu'er is an immortal." Her face was filled with happiness and pride.
Ling Qingqiu couldn't help but laugh: "Mom, what immortal? My son is just an ordinary cultivator."
Ling's mother patted his hands and said, "My son is intelligent and will achieve great things sooner or later. I only ask that you have a clear conscience."
"I see the fence is a bit torn. I'll go cut some branches to reinforce it tomorrow. How's the window eaves I fixed last time? Are they still leaking? Are you cold at night?"
"It's not cold. The window is so strong that once it's closed, not even a breath of wind can get in. Oh! I haven't made your bed yet, look at my stupidity."
"I can do it myself, Mom. Your legs hurt, don't they? Rest for a while."
"The more I rest, the more painful it becomes. It's okay, just get busy and it will be fine."
…
The next day, Ling Qingqiu got up early and cut some branches. He then went to town to buy some food, clothing, and other necessities for Ling's mother, including some snacks and some clothes for the children. The Chen family's sister-in-law next door always took care of Ling's mother, so he owed her a thank you.
After spending a few days at home with his mother, Ling Qingqiu left the money he earned from his mission with his mother and returned to the sect alone. Because the previous mission was quite difficult and Ling Qingqiu had completed it with flying colors, the elders granted him a few more days of rest.
With nothing better to do, Ling Qingqiu flipped through a sword manual. The pristine Wuxia sword lay on the table, silent and lusterless. Ling Qingqiu's mind wasn't entirely on the sword manual. He looked up at Wuxia, a slightly bewildered expression on his face.
The Wuxia Sword was no ordinary sword; it was a time-honored, ancient treasure. Its spirit was incredibly arrogant, and since its creation, few could wield it. Ling Qingqiu considered himself merely an ordinary outer disciple, unworthy of wielding such a precious sword.
Yet, no one in the sect considered it unreasonable for the Wuxia Sword to be in his possession. The Wuxia Sword Spirit had never appeared, never responded to him. Ling Qingqiu had a vague feeling that this wasn't supposed to be the case.
After much thought, Ling Qingqiu shook his head and smiled. What could be wrong? He was just an ordinary man, and perhaps that wasn't the real Wuxia Sword.
After training in the sect and going on missions, he would take time to return home to check on his family. Several months had passed in a flash. Ling Qingqiu's swordsmanship became more and more sophisticated, and the number of evil spirits under the Wuxia Sword increased.
That day, Ling Qingqiu was on his way home when he suddenly realized something was wrong.
The sky was gloomy, and the usually bustling market was deserted. The shops along the street were all shuttered, and the air seemed thick with a fishy, foul smell. Ling Qingqiu glimpsed a figure in the corner, carrying a bag and looking like he was about to flee. He stepped forward to stop him.
"Uncle, what's going on today? Where are our family members?"
The uncle squinted his eyes at him and sighed: "A monster is coming. Child, run away quickly."
monster?
Ling Qingqiu didn't have time to think. He gripped his sword tightly and rushed home. Most of the houses in the alley were empty, and some people were evacuating in groups of three or four, carrying their belongings and their families.
Ling's mother had not left yet. She declined the Chen family's kindness and wanted to wait and see if Ling Qingqiu would come.
"Mom!" Ling Qingqiu rushed into the room. Ling's mother's bag was still on the table; she hadn't left yet. Hearing the voice, Ling's mother hurried out to greet him.
"Qiu'er, Auntie, you're back. Come with me quickly! There's a monster coming."
Ling Qingqiu asked anxiously, "Monster? Who told you that?"
A look of fear appeared on Ling's mother's face: "The neighbors all say that there are already several families dead in the town. Come with mother quickly, we won't go to the immortal's house, hurry up." As she said that, she was about to pull Ling Qingqiu.
Ling Qingqiu dodged her hand. He stared at his mother, remaining calm. "Mom, I'll report this to the sect. I'm a cultivator, and we can handle this evil spirit."
Ling's mother slapped her thigh in anxiety. Without a word, she grabbed the bag on the table and dragged her son out. "What are you dealing with? You're so young! Listen to me, let's leave now. Your father passed away early, do you want me to send him off again?!"
Ling Qingqiu walked a few steps with her, then gently brushed her hand away. Mother Ling looked back at him in surprise, as if puzzled by what he was doing. Ling Qingqiu sensed a faint demonic aura in the town, but he still smiled.
He spoke and whispered, "Mom, I'm sorry."
"...Qiu'er? Qiu'er!"
Without even turning back, Ling Qingqiu returned to the town, sword in hand, to confront the great demon. The light of the Wuxia Sword grew increasingly brighter, blinding him.
He chopped down on the demon's head, and in an instant, the demon shattered into pieces. The illusion was broken.
Ling Qingqiu turned around and saw his mother following him. He rushed over and hugged her. He choked up, "Mom, I'm leaving."
Ling's mother was still wearing her coarse clothes, her hair tied up in a simple bun, and there were fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She hugged her son, who was now much taller than her, and said with a smile, "Go, Qiu'er. Never stop for me."
Ling's mother's figure gradually faded, and a soft light surrounded Ling Qingqiu, like a mother's embrace. The surrounding scene shattered and disappeared, replaced by a vast expanse of white. A person suddenly appeared before Ling Qingqiu.
Ling Qingqiu paused and turned his back.
Visitor:?
The man laughed angrily: "I am a God after all. Why do you treat me so badly?" Judging from the voice, he is a gentle young man.
Ling Qingqiu hadn't seen his late mother in over a hundred years, and had nearly forgotten what she looked like. He was trying to calm down. He covered his red eyes, turned around, and bowed to him, "Junior greets the Supreme God."
The young man waved his hand. "You're quite polite. No need to be polite. I don't care about that." He waved his hand and conjured up two chairs. "Sit down."
Ling Qingqiu sat down as he was told.
"Ling Qingqiu?"
"yes."
"You're very clever," Cen Jiming praised him with a smile. "I altered your memories and created an illusion, and you could tell the difference just by thinking about it. If I hadn't intervened, you would have been able to break the illusion just by looking at the difference in the dark clouds."
Ling Qingqiu said calmly, "You are so kind, Lord. I would like to thank you for allowing me to see my mother again in this way."
Cen Jiming waved his hand, not caring much. After being a god for so long, his understanding of family and love had become vague.
"My illusions have always been the most realistic, which makes people curious. How did you find out that this was an illusion?" Cen Jiming looked at him with interest.
Ling Qingqiu was silent for a moment. "My mother would never let me be a deserter. She would just say, go ahead and try your luck. When you're tired, come back and look at her."
But never stop for her. Ling's father died fighting for his country, and Ling's mother hoped that their son could be like his father, a soaring eagle instead of a homesick swallow.
"I embarked on the immortal path originally for my mother. But when I established Jianxin, I suddenly realized that I embarked on the immortal path, just as my mother expected, for the people of the world." Ling Qingqiu showed no expression, but was very sincere.
Cen Jiming was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled. "Perhaps you've heard of my honorific title, Dongjun. I sacrificed myself for the world and ascended to heaven. People who came after me only knew Dongjun, but not Cen Jiming. You say, I died for the people, yet they forgot me. Was it worth it?"
"It's worth it." Ling Qingqiu's eyes were clear. "You ask me this because you already have the answer in your heart, don't you?"
Cen Jiming smiled and leaned back in his chair: "You look a lot like the guy who came last time. What was that guy's name, Cang He?"
Ling Qingqiu was stunned: "It's my master."
"No wonder." Cen Jiming shook his head, and the ball of light in his hand flew towards Ling Qingqiu.
"I have devoted my entire life to the creation of two sword manuals. One is for your master, and this one is for you. I wish you a smooth journey ahead." He smiled and stood up, brushing his sleeves. "Let's go. I'm sorry for taking up your time, and the person you're worried about will be leaving soon. My friend, we'll meet again if the opportunity arises. Please give my regards to your master."
When seeing Ling Qingqiu off, Cen Jiming put his hands behind his back and faced away from him, his expression unseen.
"By the way, remember to tell them that my name is Cen Jiming."
Ling Qingqiu bowed to him and said, "Farewell, God."
The surrounding white light gradually faded, revealing the true appearance of the secret realm. Ling Qingqiu gathered the ball of light in his hand and absorbed it into his sea of consciousness.
Cen Jiming's illusion was adapted from his own memories, the only difference being that he had directly accepted Cang He as his disciple during the disciple election. His initial intention was to only enter the outer sect, so he could spend more time with his mother.
In reality, a great demon had indeed swept through the town where Ling's mother lived. It was a demon that had escaped from Ling Qingqiu and had come there to take revenge on him.
At that time, Ling Qingqiu was no match for the demonic evil spirit, whose power had greatly increased. It was Cang He and Wan Wuji who arrived and rescued them. It was also that day that Ling Qingqiu first harbored the desire to become stronger.
The ancient jungle was shrouded in mist, making it impossible to see the path beneath his feet. Ling Qingqiu pulled himself out of his memories, took out the jade slip, glanced at it, and walked forward.
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