Chapter 169 – Taiyi Suppresses the Eight Directions
The Twelve Continents experienced an unprecedentedly terrifying and bizarre phenomenon. In the firmament, ten suns and twelve moons hung high simultaneously. Outside the cities, the black miasma surged like a tide. Between the heavens and the earth, a fierce wind howled. Raging fires and blizzards swept across the land at the same time. All common sense, all experience, became a joke. Birds and beasts, humans and plants, at this moment, were all indistinguishable, as insignificant as dust in this chaotic cosmos.
The epicenter of this strange phenomenon was the West Continent. The land of the West Continent, famous for its “ten peaks and nine rivers,” was undergoing a cataclysmic change. The folded mountain ranges were being flattened bit by bit, the rugged high mountains were collapsing, and the deep ravines and chasms were being filled. It was as if a giant dragon were stretching its body. In just a few breaths, the changes in the land and sea had already surpassed those of the past thousand, ten thousand years.
Thunder rumbled incessantly, and silver lightning flashed like a dense forest. People watched with their own eyes as the sky outside their cities was completely occupied by the black miasma, and the venomous laughter of countless dead souls and vengeful ghosts pierced their minds…
“Heavens above…”
The wilderness wanderers and city dwellers who had managed to escape behind the city walls huddled together, dumbfounded. They hardly knew whether they were in the mortal realm or in hell. Their only consolation was that with the City Gods and the immortal sect cultivators present, the miasma and the dead souls would be kept outside the city walls. But soon, this wisp of ethereal consolation was also shattered to pieces—the very ground they stood on was heaving violently. The people standing on it felt as if they were on the high seas.
The tide of earth rose high. Amidst the shrill cries of someone unknown, the cities built against the mountains were swallowed by them. In other places, in the cities on the plains and open country, people only heard a tremendous roar and then saw that a large part of their familiar city was suddenly gone—that large part of the city, houses and people alike, had fallen into a pitch-black chasm.
The tectonic plates of the Twelve Continents seemed to have become a sheet of paper, a thin, brittle paper that was now cracking. A huge fissure began in the northern corner of the West Continent but extended all the way to the southeastern corner of Qingzhou. The rift valley was thousands, tens of thousands of meters deep, and lava poured out from the earth’s core, filling the fissure. Seen from high above, it was as if a dark red flood had swept through the mortal realm.
A blood-bright network of rivers spread out wantonly. The rift valley snaked across the land like a bright red lightning bolt, in a flash, tearing its way to the vicinity of Plum City.
By the time the lava reached the base of the city walls, Zuo Yuesheng was striding through the rioting districts of Plum City, his two dark, gold-inlaid Mo Sabers covered in blood. He had forcibly suppressed the riot with thunderous means—all the Beast Taming Sect disciples and rogue cultivators who had tried to incite the refugees and city dwellers to fight had been killed by him.
The Mo Sabers swung for the last time, like fish scales in drifting snow. When he sheathed them, the gold lacquer on the blades had been overwhelmed by the thick, sticky blood. Zuo Yuesheng didn’t know how many people he had killed tonight, how many of them were unforgivable sinners, and how many had extenuating circumstances. He only remembered Monk Budu coming to drink with him before going to take his post on the Golden Tower White Jade Ship. As they drank, he had suddenly fallen silent.
In the candlelight, the monk who was always joking and smiling showed a rare trace of the Buddha’s Son. His features reflected the fire, full of great compassion. He had said: Fatty, from now on, we are all sinners, all prisoners, and we will all struggle and suffer in the purgatory of our conscience.
At the time, Zuo Yuesheng had thrown a chicken bone at him and said: To hell with you, don’t give me that crap. If you want to peddle your Buddhist sect’s Great Compassion Mantra, go peddle it to those ignorant fools. I’m not buying it. The chicken bone had hit Monk Budu squarely on the forehead, leaving a shiny, oily mark. But he hadn’t laughed or protested, only said softly: Amitabha.
“…Amitabha, the Buddha can’t protect me,” Zuo Yuesheng muttered, striding forward, reversing his grip on his Mo Sabers, and smashing them out. A wall that was collapsing in the earthquake was swept away by the blade qi. Zuo Yuesheng pulled a terrified little girl out from under the wall. He took two steps, and the little girl, clinging to his shoulder, suddenly burst into tears, crying and shouting, “Grandma! Grandma!” She clutched Zuo Yuesheng’s clothes, crying, “Save my grandma, save her!”
Zuo Yuesheng didn’t stop, didn’t look back. When he had swept away the wall, he had already seen clearly that the old woman from the congee shop was too old and had died of fright the moment the wall and pillars collapsed.
The streets of Plum City were collapsing. One by one, the shops, whether grand or simple, their pillars falling and walls crumbling. The plum blossom jars that had been carefully swept, washed, and filled were shattered all over the ground. Mountain Peach White, Thousand Mountains Snow, Red in the Mist, Gold Coin Green Calyx, Leaping Snow Drooping Branch… all sorts of red, white, and pink petals were blown into the air, fluttering toward the sky.
Like blood, and also like paper money. The past peace of the mortal realm was torn apart tonight. The tranquility of small households, self-sufficient with their congee and tea, was just that fragile. And Zuo Yuesheng knew clearly that he, Monk Budu, Lu Jing… everyone had to bear a share of this karma. They were also the ones who had pushed to shatter this peace.
Perhaps, they could say to themselves: It’s not my fault. The insatiable greed of the human heart has been around for a long time. To right the bitter fruit that has accumulated to this day, a heavy price must be paid. Sacrifice is inevitable. I cannot be responsible for all the dead. I am saving the mortal realm. I am doing it for the long-term development of the mortal realm.
Indeed, there was nothing wrong with saying that. But were these cries, these bloodstains, fake? …If, for the sake of a righteous cause, one could unhesitatingly sacrifice many people and not feel guilty for it, that person would be terrifying. Because they would not feel remorse for the dead, would not be tormented by it. To them, life would not be something precious.
And if, knowing that not doing something would lead to even more deaths, one was afraid to bear the condemnation of their conscience and was unwilling to act, that person would be pathetic. Because they sought their own peace of mind. They, in the name of benevolence, would let thousands and millions of people be crushed to dust. Such people were also not worthy of speaking of righteousness. They were just selfish.
The former are butchers, the latter are cowards. And what about them? …They are sinners.
A piece of paper covered in writing was blown to Zuo Yuesheng’s feet. It was the words of some scholar from some villa, who in these past few days had cited classics and lamented the deaths of the refugees. Zuo Yuesheng didn’t even look at it, just stepped right over it. The wind grew stronger, carrying black smoke, rising layer by layer.
Outside the city, lava swept through the miasma, burning numerous Dead Souls and Wild Ghosts to ash, and crashed against the barrier released by the Golden Tower White Jade Ship. In an instant, the sound was like a boiling river, and sparks flew everywhere. At the same time, from the direction of Heavenly Lake Mountain, eighty-one high furnaces roared simultaneously.
Zuo Yuesheng stopped and looked up at Heavenly Lake Mountain.
***
On the peak of Heavenly Lake Mountain, inside the Bright Hall. Another crucial sliding axle was pushed into the correct position. The beams and pillars in the Bright Hall continuously changed, opening and closing, riveting together. The “Yellow Chart” of the red-gold virtual roof rotated, overlapping with the “Azure Sky Chart” of the greenish-blue real roof to show the trajectories of the sun, moon, and stars. On the dome of the nine rooms and twelve halls, most of the stars had already moved to their predetermined positions, circling the sun and moon in the center.
Just as Bei Ge Zi Jin was about to calibrate the stars of the next continent, the “Grand Historian’s Dharma-Image Plate” floating in mid-air suddenly began to vibrate violently. The gold and silver orbs symbolizing the sun and moon on the plate jumped restlessly, then shot out in all directions.
“What’s wrong?!” Old Heavenly Craftsman was shocked and asked urgently.
“The Dharma-image is in chaos, the sun and moon are out of control…”
The faces of the other calendrical masters changed drastically. Although they were not very familiar with this secret calendrical instrument of the Kongsang Taiyu Clan, their understanding of the celestial phenomena and their corresponding omens was much higher than that of an outsider like Old Heavenly Craftsman.
As soon as the words were spoken, the rectangular Dharma-Image Plate, which had been floating horizontally in mid-air, began to rotate and shake erratically. Sand and stones flew about on the plate, and the once exquisite and clear map of the Twelve Continents instantly became a chaotic mess. From the center of the plate came a frightening sound of cracking stone.
“The Central Fulcrum…” Bei Ge Zi Jin cried out. “The Central Fulcrum is unstable!”
The Grand Historian’s Dharma-Image Plate was a calendrical instrument that was mysteriously connected to the mortal realm. Just like the “Star-Pushing Plate” passed down through generations in Ghost Valley, to a certain extent, the Grand Historian’s Dharma-Image Plate could reflect and predict the astronomical and geographical changes of the Twelve Continents. “An earthquake in the Southern Borderlands, and the Central Continent knows of it before the news arrives” came from this.
Now, the changes in the Grand Historian’s Dharma-Image Plate indicated that it had lost the center of gravity that kept it stable while floating. Correspondingly, the Central Fulcrum of the Twelve Continents of the mortal realm had become unstable!
Where was the Central Fulcrum of the Twelve Continents? Kongsang. On the entire map of the mortal realm, Kongsang was situated at its very center. Under the model of Zhoubi Heaven Stabilization, it was the veritable “Central Fulcrum.”
But now, this crucial Central Fulcrum had undergone a change. Bei Ge Zi Jin’s face instantly turned ashen. The hand that was about to correct the next star froze in mid-air, as if he had suffered a heavy blow, as if he were a dead man.
…They, they had underestimated the Great Wilderness. Or rather, they had underestimated the bitter fruit that the mortal realm itself had sown over the past ten thousand years. The evil consequences of the Hundred Clans secretly altering the celestial orbit bit by bit over ten thousand years, and the Immortal Sects, whether for the greater good or for small gains, not holding them accountable, were fully revealed to everyone today.
Originally, Kongsang, as the Central Fulcrum, should have been able to remain stable under the drastic changes of the Dragon Head moving and the mountains shifting. The Central Fulcrum is stable, the four directions are stable. But, over the past ten thousand years, the Hundred Clans of Kongsang had privately altered the Heavenly Wedges.
Altering the celestial orbit once or twice, on the surface, only affected the rise and fall of a single city or pool. But in reality, as the sun and moon moved, the celestial orbit fell into chaos, and the winds of the four directions followed suit, causing the entire topography of the Twelve Continents to change imperceptibly over ten thousand years! The edges of the continental islands were constantly eroded by the altered tides, and within the continents, high mountains became low valleys, ravines became inland lakes… A grain of sand today, a stone tomorrow…
The balance of forces in the Twelve Continents was thus altered. What was even more fatal was that the Hundred Clans of Kongsang, for the sake of agriculture, had once carried out several large-scale “land-clearing” campaigns with their divine power. The “land” they cleared was not the “desolation” of the Great Wilderness, but the “wilderness” of the wilds.
Kongsang had a thousand kilometers of fertile land, ten thousand acres of good fields. Its agricultural output was the greatest in the Twelve Continents. On this basis, it gradually evolved into the cultural and economic center of the world, matching its geographical position as the “Central Fulcrum.” From this, the ambition of the Hundred Clans of Kongsang to “herd the world” grew unchecked.
However, much earlier, the place where Kongsang was located was not entirely fertile plains. If one were to compare a map from the Primeval Era with a map from today, one would find that the “Kongsang” people spoke of was more than ten times larger than the “Kongsang” of the Primeval Era. Only the area of ancient Kongsang was a plain; the rest was mostly barren mountains and high plateaus. The reason it had evolved into its current state was that in the late Middle Antiquity, Kongsang’s population had surged. The Hundred Clans, feeling that the land was narrow and the population dense, proposed the “land-clearing” plan: to level the areas around Kongsang, moving mountains and filling ravines.
After this drastic action, the Kongsang plain expanded south and west of Tang Valley by more than twice its original size. The heavenly province of the Central Continent was born. However, the reason the original thousand kilometers of fertile land was a plain was because it bore the weight of the Fusang tree and the sun and moon, and the soil deep beneath was extremely hard. The new “fertile lands” that the Hundred Clans had opened up could not compare.
How could such a weak Central Continent bear the heavy responsibility of stabilizing the Twelve Continents?!
“…The Central Fulcrum is unstable,” Bei Ge Zi Jin couldn’t even hear what he was saying, only felt the world spinning. “If the Central Fulcrum is unstable, how can the heavens be replaced?”
He had lingered in this world, only for the sake of… only for the sake of thinking that if the Divine Lord replaced the heavens, and the four poles and eight directions were set, he could contribute to it, and thus redeem a little of the sins caused by the Hundred Clans of Kongsang over so many years. But now, it was as if he had been struck on the head with a club.
What was done was done. It could not be undone, could not be compensated for.
Bei Ge Zi Jin spat out a mouthful of blood, and his heart was instantly filled with despair, as if he were a walking corpse. He had lost all will to live.
“You’re not dead yet, what are you wailing for?!”
Someone grabbed him by the collar and slapped him hard, waking him up.
“Continue.”
“There’s no way to continue!” Bei Ge Zi Jin’s eyes were empty, a mixture of tears and laughter. “Didn’t you see! The Central Fulcrum is unstable! If the Central Fulcrum is unstable, the earth will rotate and crack because of the stretching and changing of the West Continent! …Even if we finish checking the star table, even if we set the accurate star anchors, it’s useless!”
As he spoke, blood poured from his mouth and nose, but he paid it no mind. It was all over. All their efforts were in vain. The West Continent was going to be destroyed, the mortal realm was going to fall into desolation… Everyone was going to die.
In his daze, the person who had pulled him up slapped him again, turning his cheek to the side.
“That’s the Kongsang your Hundred Clans left behind!” Old Heavenly Craftsman said, word by word, his eyes almost spitting fire. If it weren’t for the fact that only this sickly, near-death waste from the Bei Ge clan knew how to use this Bright Hall star chart, he would have chopped the boy’s head off with his axe long ago. “Don’t forget who is in Kongsang now!”
…Who was in Kongsang now? Bei Ge Zi Jin was jolted awake as if from a dream.
“Tai… Taiyi!”
***
Kongsang was cracking. The stretching and flattening of the West Continent was causing the entire Twelve Continents to rotate, and the terrifying pressure of this celestial rotation was converging on the Central Fulcrum. The once slow-flowing waters of the Tang River were now turbulent, and whirlpools appeared on the lake-wide surface of the river. Tornadoes swept across the boundless fertile fields, leaving ugly, brown, deep gullies in their wake.
Like scars on the earth. The wind was so strong that stones weighing fifty kilograms were swept into the sky.
The entire Taiyi Sect, in this great gale, formed a grand array around Kongsang, standing ramrod straight. From the elders to the disciples, every single one held a saber or sword, and not one retreated.
The Taiyi Sect Master, Pei Tanglu, in a simple green shirt, ascended the stone steps, his gaze sweeping over the face of every disciple. As a sect master who was often complained about for being stingy, the disciples under his charge were the foundation he cared about most. Of the eighty-one peaks of Taiyi, although he didn’t know everyone, he remembered how many disciples each peak had last year, and how many it had this year.
How many new ones, how many martyred. Every single one, he remembered clearly in his heart. He knew them all.
Today, gathered at the Central Fulcrum of the Twelve Continents, were all the members of Taiyi stationed in Kongsang, from the elders to the disciples, not one more, not one less. The grand array was arranged by seniority, with the elders on the outside and the disciples on the inside. Except for the eye of the array, the younger one was, the further inside they were.
The disciples who had just joined the sect not long ago stood at the very center, their faces inevitably showing a hint of nervousness. The senior sisters and brothers standing in front of them turned back and said with a grin, “Little ones, are you scared?”
The junior brothers and sisters puffed out their cheeks, very displeased. They were all going to do great things today, how could their senior brothers and sisters still use this teasing tone?
Though they thought this, their hands, gripping their sabers and swords, were so tight their knuckles turned white.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t make that pouty face!” The senior brothers and sisters, taking advantage of the fact that the grand array hadn’t officially started, quickly reached out and ruffled their hair vigorously. “Your senior sisters and brothers have got you covered! Don’t be afraid, okay!”
The junior brothers and sisters slapped their mischievous hands away. “We’re not afraid!”
Pei Tanglu, holding the Mountain-Suppressing Sword, passed through the grand array and arrived at its eye. He looked around the entire array one last time, his gaze sweeping over the nervous or high-spirited disciples within… They were all still very young, all very, very good children. His gaze swept over the withered or hale elders on the periphery… They were no longer young, they were the shoulders of Taiyi.
All these faces, added together, became the spine of heaven and earth.
If the mortal realm has no Central Fulcrum, then Taiyi will be the Central Fulcrum!
Hurricanes roared, fertile fields cracked, mountains collapsed, and rolling stones fell like a flood. The Twelve Continents were cracking, being destroyed, being reborn, being resurrected. The force of the Twelve Continents’ rotation pressed in from all directions, the weight of heaven and earth, of all things and all beings, converged on this thousand-kilometer land. It was going to grind everything to dust, to powder. In the face of this terrifying force, the eighty-one peaks of Taiyi stood unshaken.
A faint pride flickered across Pei Tanglu’s face. The Immortal Sect Taiyi has no traitors! No deserters! No cowards! Though ten thousand years have passed, this heart has not changed.
“Activate the formation!”
He shouted, holding the sword with both hands, its tip pointing down, piercing through the stone layer.
The sword’s name—
Calming the Storm!