Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 23: That One Blade

Golden light flooded his vision.

It poured from the blurred human figures carved into the temple’s inner walls. Each carving acted as a miniature sun, their combined radiance illuminating the ruins. Yet, the true source of the brilliance lay deeper within.

It was the main statue enshrined at the center—the stone sculpture gripping a heavy stone blade.

Within this golden light, Xu Qing’s mind trembled. At the temple’s entrance stood a silhouette of writhing black mist. Its features were indistinct, twisting violently under the golden glare.

Outside, hundreds of similar shadowy figures—some humanoid, some beast-like—crowded the darkness. A bone-deep chill radiated from the horde, converging into a towering wave of yin energy that tethered itself to the lone shadow trespassing inside.

Bathed in the golden light, the trespassing shadow slowly raised its head. It unleashed a soul-shaking roar and took another step forward.

A provocation. A breached taboo.

The moment its foot landed, Xu Qing watched in horror as the radiant stone statue stepped down from its pedestal. It moved with supreme majesty, carrying an indescribable sacredness akin to a descending god. The ground rumbled beneath its heavy strides as it approached the black shadow.

It raised its arm. The stone blade fell. A single, downward slash.

It was a simple, unadorned strike. Yet, within that absolute simplicity lay the profound charm of the Great Dao—an earth-shattering, heaven-rending absolute.

A silent, agonizing shriek tore through Xu Qing’s soul.

The black mist instantly evaporated, revealing a rotting corpse clad in tattered rags. It was an old man with hollow, empty eye sockets. A split second later, the corpse crumbled to dust, evaporating into nothingness.

The shockwave rippled outward, destabilizing the horde of shadows beyond the threshold. As the golden light washed over them, the mist clinging to their forms thinned. Xu Qing’s pupils contracted. He recognized one of the figures.

The Blood Shadow Captain.

Standing among the horde, the captain’s gaunt face was completely devoid of emotion. As the golden light swept over him, his body was purified, dissolving into the night.

Hours bled away. The surviving shadows slowly retreated into the darkness, eventually vanishing entirely.

Inside the temple, the golden light dimmed. The awe-inspiring statue turned, carrying the fading radiance back to its pedestal. As the last glimmer died, it became ordinary stone once more, gazing silently toward the entrance. Waiting. Guarding. Motionless.

Dawn broke. Sunlight pierced the canopy. A new day had arrived.

It took a long time for Xu Qing to steady his racing heart. He silently squeezed out of the stone crevice. He looked at the morning light, then at the carvings on the walls, his gaze finally resting on the blade-wielding statue.

He didn’t know what kind of entity it was, whether it was alive or a remnant of the ancient past. He didn’t know which era this temple belonged to, nor the glory it once held. But the sheer, oppressive weight of that single blade strike was permanently branded into his soul.

He couldn’t fathom that a sanctuary untouched by the darkness existed within this lethal restricted zone. Captain Lei had never mentioned it. Perhaps even the seasoned scavenger didn’t know. Such events were likely incredibly rare, and no one else in the camp lingered in the restricted zone as long as Xu Qing did. It was a myth.

Xu Qing fell silent. He bowed deeply to the stone statue and the surrounding carvings. Digging into his leather pouch, he retrieved a stub of a candle, placed it before the altar, and lit it. He bowed one last time, then turned and left.

Even as he navigated the dense jungle, he kept looking back. The image of the falling blade played on a loop in his mind. It was so vivid that his right hand twitched, instinctively rising to mimic the motion.

Every time he traced the arc of that strike, a profound realization washed over him. If cultivating the Sea Mountain Technique required visualizing the multi-armed fiend, Xu Qing was now replacing that fiend with the memory of the stone blade.

Through this relentless mimicry, his cultivation bottleneck shattered. The Sea Mountain Technique broke through to the fourth layer!

The advancement doubled his physical strength and speed, but more importantly, it triggered a spiritual shift. His mind sharpened. When he raised and lowered his right hand, it carried a faint, almost imperceptible trace of the divine statue’s imposing aura.

This thrilled Xu Qing.

Two days passed. Perhaps because he was nearing the periphery, or perhaps due to the lingering deterrence of the temple, he didn’t encounter the eerie footsteps again. He crossed paths with a few mutated beasts, but his newly advanced cultivation made survival much easier.

While he hadn’t found the Destiny Flower or the Scar-Dispelling Stone, his harvest of Seven-Leaf Grass was substantial. It would fetch a good pile of spirit coins.

As dusk approached, the edge of the jungle came into view. Just as he was about to step out, he paused, his gaze locking onto a weed near his boots. It bore a passing resemblance to a Destiny Flower. Even with his rudimentary botanical knowledge, he knew it was a fake.

Xu Qing hesitated. He glanced around, his hyper-vigilance kicking in, before plucking the weed and stuffing it into his pouch. An excuse.

He sprinted the rest of the way, reaching the Scavenger Camp under the cover of night. The settlement was still lively, especially the red-light district marked by feathered tents, where raucous laughter mixed with uninhibited panting.

Xu Qing ignored it all. He pushed open the gate to his courtyard just as Captain Lei stepped out of the cabin. Seeing Xu Qing disheveled but whole, the old man visibly relaxed.

“You were gone a long time.”

“I went to the temple ruins,” Xu Qing replied. Under the moonlight, he noticed the heavy bloodshot veins in Captain Lei’s eyes and the deep exhaustion etched into his face. The old man hadn’t slept. A strange warmth bloomed in Xu Qing’s chest.

“The temple?” Captain Lei looked surprised. He hadn’t expected the boy to venture that deep. He waved Xu Qing into the kitchen, rolled up his sleeves, and brought out a tray of food.

It was piping hot. Untouched. Xu Qing froze.

Captain Lei had no way of knowing when he would return. The only explanation was that the old man had cooked a fresh meal every single day, waiting for him.

Xu Qing silently grabbed the bowls and chopsticks. Three sets. Two placed side-by-side. He sat down and began to eat.

It was delicious. A flavor that bypassed the tongue and settled directly in the heart.

Captain Lei barely ate. He nursed his liquor, watching Xu Qing with a faint smile. “Eat up. You’re still growing. If you don’t eat, you’ll be stuck at that height forever.”

Xu Qing lowered his head. “Mn,” he grunted softly, obediently shoveling more food into his mouth. Between bites, he recounted what he had witnessed at the temple.

Captain Lei paused his drinking, drawn into the tale. When Xu Qing finished, the old man took a slow, deep breath.

“I’ve heard whispers of that place,” Captain Lei murmured. “A long time ago. Some claimed to have seen something similar, but like the singing, it faded into legend. Thinking back… those rumors started shortly after the singing first appeared.”

A profound sorrow clouded the old man’s eyes. Xu Qing knew exactly what he was remembering. Regret flashed through his mind. I shouldn’t have brought it up. He fell silent.

Captain Lei noticed the boy’s sudden quietness and forced a chuckle. “You’re too sharp, kid. Don’t worry, I’m not as fragile as you think.”

He took a heavy swig of alcohol and changed the subject, recounting the recent camp gossip. The old man drank and talked. The boy ate and listened.

Like family.

Late into the night, after Xu Qing had scrubbed the dishes clean, Captain Lei smiled and retired to his room.

Xu Qing returned to his own quarters. A new set of bedding lay unrolled on his cot, smelling faintly of sun-dried cotton. He stared at the wall separating him from Captain Lei. He walked over to the bed, but after glancing down at his grime-caked clothes and dirt-stained hands, he rolled the clean blankets back up. He sat cross-legged on the bare wooden boards and closed his eyes to cultivate.

Dawn broke. Xu Qing opened his eyes.

Before leaving, he stopped by the washroom. Enduring the stinging discomfort, he scrubbed his hands until they were raw and pale. Clean. He took a deep breath and headed straight for the camp physician’s tent.

Timing was everything. Too early, and Master Bai wouldn’t have started. Too late, and he’d miss the opening lecture. He arrived just as the sound of a botanical examination drifted from the canvas flaps. Xu Qing stood perfectly still by the entrance, his ears pricked.

“Green Lotus Dew, also known as Azure Lotus Extract,” the young female disciple recited from within. “Derived from the buds of the aquatic Azure Lotus. Extracted via a specialized slow-burn distillation method. Its primary function is to soothe the lung meridians and treat mutagen-induced hemoptysis…”

Xu Qing absorbed every word, committing the mystical properties to memory. Over an hour slipped by in a trance.

Suddenly, the tent flap swept open. Master Bai stood in the doorway, his gaze resting on the boy.

“What is it?” The old alchemist’s eyes weren’t sharp, but they carried an undeniable weight of authority.

Xu Qing tensed. He carefully withdrew the fake herb from his pouch, keeping his head respectfully bowed. “Master Bai… I wished to ask if this is a Destiny Flower.”

Master Bai paused. He glanced at the weed, a strange expression crossing his face, then looked down at the boy’s meticulously scrubbed hands. The silence stretched, amplifying Xu Qing’s anxiety.

“It is not,” Master Bai finally said.

Xu Qing immediately bowed deeply. He turned and walked away, his heart pounding. Did he see through it? He glanced back over his shoulder. Master Bai was still standing by the tent, watching him.

Seeing the boy look back, the old scholar gave a slow, deliberate nod. Xu Qing stopped, offered another profound bow, and disappeared into the camp.

Master Bai watched the boy vanish into the crowd before turning back inside.

The interior of the tent was dead silent. The guards, the young boy, and the young girl were frozen in place, as still as stone statues. Where Master Bai had been sitting, a small table had materialized, laden with exquisite delicacies and fine wine. Across from his seat sat an old man draped in luxurious purple robes, a gray-clad servant standing silently behind him.

The purple-robed elder laughed heartily as Master Bai entered. “Well, Master Bai? What do you think?”

“Think about what?” Master Bai replied, completely unfazed by the man’s sudden appearance or the frozen state of his disciples. He sat down and took a sip from the wine pot.

“The boy, of course. I told you last time I was waiting for you, I spotted a prime seedling.”

“A prime seedling?” Master Bai scoffed. “The first time he came to eavesdrop, fine. But this time? He plucked a random weed and used it as an excuse to ask about the Destiny Flower just so he could listen in. If this keeps up, he’ll be bringing me a new blade of grass every day. If you hadn’t vouched for him, I would have chased him off weeks ago.”

Master Bai glared at the purple-robed elder, letting out a cold snort.

The elder just laughed harder. “You’ve always had a sharp tongue but a soft heart. With your stubborn temper, if you didn’t genuinely believe the boy had potential, no amount of vouching from me would stop you from kicking him out.”

Master Bai didn’t bother denying it. Instead, he narrowed his eyes. “Are you planning to drag him back to Seven Blood Eyes? That sect of yours is a blood-soaked cesspit. It would be a waste of a brilliant scholarly mind!”

“A waste? What good is a scholar in this wasteland?” the purple-robed elder retorted, raising an eyebrow. “In this world, cultivation is the only absolute truth!”

“Scholars are useless?” Master Bai slammed his cup down. “Then why are you sitting here waiting for a mundane mortal like me, begging me to join your precious Seven Blood Eyes?”

“You’re… an exception,” the elder said with an awkward cough.

“How am I an exception?!” Master Bai snapped, his temper flaring.

The purple-robed elder sighed and slapped his forehead. “Ah, look at the time. I just remembered I have pressing matters to attend to. Master Bai, I’ll take my leave. We’ll drink again tomorrow.”

He stood up, but before stepping away, his expression turned deadly serious. “Master Bai, if you truly believe that boy is a diamond in the rough… teach him. Give him the foundation he needs so that when he reaches Seven Blood Eyes, he can be a scholar with the power to back it up.”

With that, the purple-robed elder and his servant vanished.

The instant they were gone, the frozen stillness in the tent shattered. Time resumed. The guards continued their patrol, the boy remained visibly frustrated with his studies, and the girl still wore a smug smile. None of them realized a single second had been stolen.

Only Master Bai remained silent, looking up toward the direction Xu Qing had gone, his eyes deep in thought.