ATEG Chapter 141

Nu Xu’s momentum had not yet ceased. She twisted her ankle, counter-wrapping around the two long spears, her foot’s edge sharp as a blade. In mere moments, she ground the two long spears into fragment after fragment, using the rebound force to flip herself upward, her toes already touching the edge of the cliff.

Just as she was about to flip onto the clifftop, she saw the three characters “Inverted Heavenly Ladder” carved into the mountain stone suddenly shoot forth a ferocious streak of baleful qi, like a cliff wall wrapped in iron thorns, crashing violently toward Nu Xu just as she was about to reach the top.

This place forbade flight. If she were driven back by this strike, she would fall straight from the clifftop to the bottom below.

Nu Xu’s gaze sharpened. A white bone blade slid swiftly into her palm, and she met the strike head-on.

The pale white blade light fiercely cleaved open a gash in the baleful qi that was like a cliff wall. Nu Xu passed through this opening, the bone blade in her hand growing ever sharper, slashing straight at the “Inverted Heavenly Ladder.”

She landed at the entrance atop the cliff. The edge of the bone blade halted before the “Inverted Heavenly Ladder,” and the congealed baleful qi shattered thunderously behind her.

Below the cliff, the several great ghosts atop the gate tower did not pursue. They tilted their heads to observe the situation at the clifftop, then each returned to their own business as before.

Nu Xu glanced at those three characters but did not look back. She put away the white bone blade and stepped directly into the Inverted Heavenly Ladder.

The stone spire engraved with the three great characters “Inverted Heavenly Ladder” swallowed her silhouette. Outside the gorge entrance, the Ghost Market remained as it always was.

Nu Xu stepped into the Inverted Heavenly Ladder. With this single step, heaven and earth inverted.

She stood upside-down at the top of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder — head below, feet above — and though she moved downward, it was as if she were climbing.

On both sides, stone spikes jutted and crisscrossed at oblique angles, intersecting at what should have been above her head but now served as stone steps beneath her feet.

Each stone spike was as thick as two people with arms outstretched could encircle, growing in all different directions. The spikes were smooth, and in many places they barely overlapped, with many gaps in between. Through these gaps one ought to have been able to see the sky of the outside world, but standing within the Inverted Heavenly Ladder, one could only see an expanse of black depth.

And above — what had originally been the mountain gorge — was likewise a stretch of deep, dark fathomlessness. This blackness was so intense that it exerted a heavy, pressing force. When gazing upon these abyssal portions, a tremendous dread arose unbidden in Nu Xu’s spirit and soul. She had a premonition that falling into them would not lead to any pleasant outcome.

She could neither attempt to take flight — within this heaven-and-earth-inverted Inverted Heavenly Ladder, taking flight would be tantamount to voluntarily entering the bottomless abyss of shadow above her head — nor could she fall into the gaps between the stone spikes beneath her feet. The space here was unlike the outside world. If one fell into the gaps underfoot, it would likely not mean falling out of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder and returning to the tops of the cliffs on either side of Wudi Gorge, but rather sinking equally into that terrifying black depth.

Nu Xu glanced at the gaps between the crisscrossing stone spikes, then raised her foot and began walking downward in reverse.

The Inverted Heavenly Ladder was desolate and silent. No sound could enter, and no sound could be produced.

Nu Xu furrowed her brow. She deliberately made her steps heavy, yet within the Inverted Heavenly Ladder there was still not the slightest sound — as though she were nothing but a false shadow. She looked at that expanse of darkness that had swallowed all sound. Her vision could not penetrate this depth, and so she could not know what lay concealed within it.

For countless years, no one save Wudi Cave’s master Xi Chen’an had ever managed to break through the Inverted Heavenly Ladder. There had to be terrifying dangers within.

The white bone blade slid silently into Nu Xu’s palm, but after walking for a long while, no danger materialized. The Inverted Heavenly Ladder remained as dead and silent as before. She had no clear sense of how long she had walked — one’s sense of time within the Inverted Heavenly Ladder was equally disordered. Even a cultivator with a clear and sharp spiritual sense would find it difficult to calculate time accurately after spending long enough here. Perhaps it had been a few hours, perhaps a few months — but no matter how much time seemed to pass, the Inverted Heavenly Ladder showed no change whatsoever. No end was visible; no landmarks could be found.

Within this stillness and monotony, a heart not yet perfected in cultivation began to give rise to all manner of stray thoughts. Perhaps she should turn back. Perhaps this was a dead end with no exit. Perhaps the Inverted Heavenly Ladder could only be passed by one person, or perhaps Xi Chen’an had tampered with this place after passing through it himself, which was why no cultivator had been able to pass through it since. Perhaps this place had already become a trap.

All manner of disturbing thoughts kept arising in Nu Xu’s heart, but they were not yet enough to stop her from pressing forward.

Nu Xu extinguished them one by one — those most minute fears that arose of themselves from the depths of her heart. Cultivation is the cultivation of the heart. What was this Inverted Heavenly Ladder, if not a place for tempering the heart? Were not these subtle thoughts that arose from the Inverted Heavenly Ladder’s unique environment precisely the flaws within her own heart?

She continued forward.

After another indeterminate passage of time, the Inverted Heavenly Ladder suddenly changed.

Nu Xu heard a very faint sound. The sound swelled in an instant — it was… the sound of wind.

A faint current of air surged forth from the depths of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder, and soon it reached her. The wind grew stronger and stronger, and within the sound of the wind there arose the clear tinkling of water, like a rushing river, cold and damp as it slid across the surface of her body.

Nu Xu halted her steps. She held the bone blade reversed, her gaze fixed tightly on what lay ahead. This sound of water, this dark and dim shadow, this damp chill… these awakened something within her memory — something unpleasant. Oppression, suffering, dread, and…

The sound of water grew louder and louder. The tenser her heart, the more her body relaxed in response. By the time that river-like sound surged and crashed before her, the dead silent darkness suddenly stirred and churned with it, and a colossal serpent burst forth from within — its enormous maw stretched open flat, its razor-sharp fangs trailing a ghastly and bone-chilling light.

Death… flesh and blood dissolved, bones crushed to pieces, the soul trapped beneath cold and dark water, unable to find release…

She could flee. A single light leap would let her dodge that terrifying maw.

Nu Xu raised her blade in an upward slash, her eyes blazing like fire. The white bone blade severed the great serpent’s lower jaw, shattered its venomous fangs, and pierced through its skull!

Was she afraid? She was indeed afraid of suffering. To die in a serpent’s maw ten lifetimes over — not a single one of those times had been easy to endure.

But fury would surpass fear!

The great serpent dissolved under her blade, shattering into wisps of dark shadow that returned to the surrounding darkness.

Nu Xu held her blade and cast an indifferent glance at the place where the great serpent had vanished, then continued walking into the depths of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder. This Inverted Heavenly Ladder would conjure illusions from one’s heart. The river demon of the Jiuqu River had long since been slain by her, and could no longer become an obstacle in her heart.

The sound of water within the Inverted Heavenly Ladder ceased. The impenetrable darkness still blanketed the entirety of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder — silent and ice-cold — and it would provoke the deepest fear in the heart of every person who walked within it.

Fear is the thing most capable of stopping a person from moving forward.

Nu Xu continued walking forward. Again and again, other things emerged from the darkness: the endless grieving bones at the bottom of the Jiuqu River, the cultivator who had sought to take her in as a disciple to learn ghost-controlling arts, the ferryman of the Yellow Springs who refined vengeful spirits into coffin-boats…

They awakened her memories, and memory awakened her emotions — revulsion, vexation, suffering…

Nu Xu slew them one by one. These were nothing but shadows of her past, obstacles she had long since overcome. How could they possibly hinder her now?

They were nothing but illusions.

Nu Xu walked forward step by step. The deeper she went, the more powerfully the Inverted Heavenly Ladder stirred the fears within her heart, and the more powerfully those fears were stirred, the more terrifying the illusions became. Gradually, the illusions she witnessed were no longer confined to old shadows from memory.

Within that darkness, she saw the disciples of Mingdeng Sect dying within the Underworld. She saw the ghost soldiers under her command being seized by the Yellow Springs ferryman and refined into coffin-boats and inns.

The white bone blade slashed across horizontally — the illusion shattered like a water’s surface disturbed.

She saw the sixth Yellow Springs Inn established, completing the number of extreme yin, causing the Underworld to convulse and the cycle of reincarnation to fall into chaos. Souls that should have been guided to reincarnation were unable to be received by the Yellow Springs, and wandered in bewilderment across the land. When ghost cultivators perished, they too could not re-enter the cycle of reincarnation. Their true spirits vanished without trace, and their bodies of grievance and baleful qi collapsed and dispersed, spreading and accumulating throughout the world, corroding all living beings. The ghost cultivators under her command struggled bitterly, yet one after another their minds were clouded, and they transformed into vengeful spirits beyond their own control. She saw the Black Dog Little General, in the final moment before losing his consciousness, struggling to hurl himself into the black water pool. She saw the mortal world transformed into a realm of ghosts.

The bone blade’s edge was fierce and lethal — the ghost realm illusion shattered.

She saw the great calamity rolling ever forward. Though her heart wished to stop it, her strength was too meager to succeed. She saw the villages at the foot of the Daqing Mountain Range go quiet and dead one after another. She saw aberrations running rampant. She saw the Shuigu earth deity Lu Gu — who had once paid her a visit — die at last beneath the onslaught of aberrations. The Shuigu Town he had fought to the death to protect wailed in a sea of crimson, and Lu Kingdom grew ever more turbulent. The devotion of the faithful grew heavier with every hardship they endured, and the doubt and resentment born of prayers that went unanswered grew heavier still, until at last it recoiled upon itself and the Divine Court collapsed.

The blade light was bleak and fierce — slash!

She saw old companions perish one by one. She saw deities fall one by one. She saw Yang Cang’s heart-flame forcibly extinguished, saw his true spirit vanish just as his heart-flame had, saw the Daqing Mountain Range let out a low and mournful cry, and saw the eternal radiance upon the heaven-supporting pillar grow dim.

Slash!

She saw herself — saw herself wandering in exile through darkness, but ultimately still falling into those people’s hands. She saw herself bound in chains and cast into a sunless and lightless curse formation, doing battle against endless vengeful spirits without cease — killing others and being killed by others in turn — giving rise to boundless baleful qi vast as the sea.

Nu Xu held the white bone blade aloft. Her sinew-and-bone-defined hand was as pale as the blade itself. The baleful qi on her body grew heavier and heavier, and a pair of black eyes blazed with a deep and abyssal flame.

The white bone blade hummed and vibrated in her palm. The bleak and fierce blade aura seemed on the verge of slashing out of its own accord.

Slash through! Slash through!

They were nothing but illusions!

Yet Nu Xu suddenly stopped.

The edge of the white bone blade halted before the illusion — halted before a face identical to her own. The blade aura pulsed and flickered, yet never struck downward.

Nu Xu looked at that face — that twisted, vicious, anguished face.

She suddenly came to her senses and began to look at herself.

Brow furrowed, eyes fierce, killing intent swirling, baleful qi heavy and deep. Growing ever more similar to that face in the illusion.

Nu Xu stood where she was and closed her eyes.

From ten lifetimes ago, when she had still been a fragile mortal — from that time onward, fear had never been able to stop her. Fear only made her give rise to fury. By the banks of the Jiuqu River, touched by a deity, she had set down her own path: without slaying the river demon, she would not leave the sea of suffering; without setting the world aright, she would not resolve the baleful qi.

But setting down one’s path does not mean the path has been walked to its end.

The true difficulty of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder lay not in the darkness beyond the path, not in the near-endless erosion of spirit, and not in the illusions born from the heart. These were not meant to lead her to fear and give rise to thoughts of retreat. The true danger of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder lay in drawing out the flaws in one’s Dao-heart.

Fury begets baleful qi, and baleful qi clouds the mind. Even with a heart that takes on the burden of grievances, if this exceeds the limits of her capability, the baleful qi will equally affect her Dao-heart.

If one cannot perceive that what the Inverted Heavenly Ladder targets is the flaw of the Dao-heart, it will never reach its end.

Nu Xu closed her eyes and calmed her heart.

All those who cultivate are travelers upon a road. A flaw in the Dao-heart does not prevent one from pressing forward. Now that she had seen through to where the flaw lay, she need only calm the baleful qi within herself and she would be able to ascend out of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder.

Just as Nu Xu’s heart gradually calmed to the clarity of a bright mirror and the baleful qi throughout her body slowly began to recede — a cold laugh suddenly rang out within the desolate silence of the Inverted Heavenly Ladder:

“You bear baleful qi and slash at injustice? The heart has no boundary, and thus baleful qi has no boundary. Baleful qi is injustice — what exactly are you slashing?!”

The heart without boundary, desire without satisfaction — unfulfilled desires beget baleful qi.

Some give rise to baleful qi because they themselves have suffered injustice. Others give rise to baleful qi because their desires go unmet.

The desires of the heart are like this bottomless pit — they can never be filled. Some, over a mere quarrel, will not feel satisfied unless an entire family is wiped out. Some, over failing to gain even the slightest advantage, will curse and rail, their resentment so deep it is as though someone dug up their ancestors’ graves. Some, with their prayers to the gods going unanswered, turn to rage and indignation, as if clay idols and wooden carvings owed them a hundred taels of silver…

Bear the baleful qi of grievances? Who could ever bear the boundless, endless baleful qi of all living beings?! How could such unequal baleful qi of injustice slash through the unequal injustice of all living beings’ insatiable greed?!

These words were like rolling thunder from the Underworld, and in an instant they split open a great gaping hole in Nu Xu’s Dao-heart — which had calmed to stillness like an undisturbed pond — churning up sky-reaching waves that plunged into a bottomless whirlpool, trapping her dead within the Inverted Heavenly Ladder.

****

The turbulence of the Yellow Springs gradually subsided. With yet another yellow jade piece sinking into place, the third Yellow Springs path was also penetrated through by the power of Shetu.

Bi Dongdi hovered above the Yellow Springs, his honest-looking face radiating delight.

Another Yellow Springs Inn smashed! The strange and indeterminate state of flickering between solid and insubstantial that had afflicted his body had fully dissipated — but he had no desire to leave the Underworld anymore either. How many Yellow Springs Inns remained? He could keep smashing!

Li Quan shot him a glance and suddenly smiled. “Let’s go back.”

“Ah?” Bi Dongdi said blankly and simply. No more smashing?

“The next one won’t be so easy to smash.” Li Quan said languidly, raising his head, his gaze deep and unfathomable.

When the second Yellow Springs Inn was smashed, Hundun ought to have caught on — yet he had still allowed them to use the same old method to smash the third.

It wasn’t that he no longer cared. It was that he wanted to concentrate all his power on guarding the remaining six Yellow Springs paths.

After the Xuanqing Sect was destroyed and the great calamity took an unexpected turn, Hundun had established five Yellow Springs Inns within the Underworld at lightning speed. They had smashed three — only two remained. But the first five Yellow Springs Inns, Hundun could establish as many times as he pleased. The sixth was different.

Six is the number of extreme yin. If the sixth Yellow Springs Inn were established, the Underworld would undergo a tremendous upheaval. But the sixth Yellow Springs Inn was not so easily established either. Though the Way of Heaven and Earth had suffered damage, it was not something anyone could knead into whatever shape they wished. For Hundun to overturn the Underworld, the sixth Yellow Springs Inn would face the greatest rebound force of all. Therefore, Hundun had been biding his time, waiting for the right moment to establish the sixth Yellow Springs Inn.

The Yellow Springs paths re-penetrated by the power of Shetu could no longer have Yellow Springs Inns established upon them — but Hundun did not mind that Li Quan had smashed three of his inns and that those three Yellow Springs paths were lost. For as long as the sixth Yellow Springs Inn was established, he could use that overturning force to break through Shetu’s power within those three Yellow Springs paths.

But he could not allow Li Quan to occupy even a single Yellow Springs path further.

For the Yellow Springs numbered only nine, and of the six that remained — not one could he afford to lose!

Bi Dongdi did not understand the intricacies of this, but he understood that if Li Quan said it would not be easy to smash, then it truly would not be easy — and it seemed they would not be taking him along to smash anymore. He could not help but show an expression of profound disappointment.

Li Quan looked at his expression and laughed. “You’re welcome to stay behind too.”

Bi Dongdi’s face lit up with delight.

“So are we going to keep smashing?”

“We’ll have to wait a while.” Li Quan said with a smile, his gaze deep and far-seeing.

He was waiting for an opportunity — an opportunity that Hundun was also waiting for.