Chương 43: Divine Treasure

There was a long stretch of quiet. Bai Ning sat very still, her gaze distant, sifting through everything Mo Jian had just revealed. He didn't interrupt her. Instead, he lifted his cup, drinking in small, unhurried sips, watching the curling steam rise from the porcelain. At last, Bai Ning spoke, her voice tentative.

"Then… does this mean Celestial Immortals are the peak? That once you reach that realm, you stand at the summit of cultivation? And if so… how does ascension to Heaven work? Is it simply traveling to one of those 'big worlds' you mentioned?" Mo Jian set his cup down with a soft click.

"That brings us neatly to the next part," he said.

"It's a long, tangled matter, so don't worry about grasping every detail right away. Focus on the main insights. To answer your question: yes, as far as I know, Celestial Immortals are the highest realm. There is no cultivation level beyond them." He raised a finger before she could interrupt.

"But even among Celestial Immortals, strength and authority vary greatly. More importantly, one does not need to be a Celestial Immortal to ascend to Heaven." Bai Ning blinked.

"Then… what determines ascension?"

"That," Mo Jian said, leaning back slightly, "requires starting from the very beginning." He folded his hands in his lap.

"To understand ascension – and the current phenomenon of the Heavenly Omen – we must first understand the framework that governs existence itself, particularly reincarnation. Everyone has heard fragments of it, through folk tales, temple doctrine, or rare true knowledge. There exists a single Heaven, whose residents are eternal and untouched by decay. There exists a single Hell, where mortal souls undergo punishment and cleansing before returning to life.

And in between lies the mortal realm – or rather, the realms – where you and I reside." Bai Ning nodded, absorbing each word carefully.

"The mortal realms are not a single world but a vast collection: the three thousand major worlds, each defined by the density and quality of their qi, with countless minor worlds beneath them. We live in Tianxia, a minor world that is the subsidiary of a major world known as Buzhou. All these realms together form what scholars call the Three Thousandfold World System." He paused deliberately.

"Heaven and Hell, however, are not divided in this way. There is only one Heaven. Only one Hell. And both stand apart from worldly distinctions."

"Once, long before cultivation existed, there was only one path upward. A person lived, died, and ascended or descended solely by the weight of their karma. Those with good karma rose to Heaven; those with bad karma fell to Hell. After enduring punishment proportional to their sins, they reincarnated and repeated the cycle. Life after life, birth after birth, accumulating virtue until they finally rose." Mo Jian's lips curved faintly.

"Now, Bai Ning… can you see the flaw in that system?" Bai Ning answered immediately.

"It's that the system is broken, isn't it? Buddhists often say it, and I've even heard it from you. There's no point in playing a game whose rules are arbitrary. The only real path is to transcend the limits Heaven imposes.

'To cultivate is to struggle against Heaven.'" Mo Jian nodded.

"Exactly. From the beginning, the cycle was flawed. How is karma measured? Who determines its weight? Does a child born into endless war, who kills because it's all he knows, deserve punishment? What of a man who accidentally kicks a stone down a mountain, causing an avalanche that wipes out a village – does he earn bad karma? If a rapist saves a drowning infant, is his karma good or evil? Do the deeds cancel out? Who decides? No one knows." His voice grew quieter.

"Karma is blind. The cycle is indifferent. The judgment… cruel. Even the Buddha does not preach acceptance, only escape." He set his cup down.

"And the first ever people who ascended to Heaven saw those flaws too. We don't know who they were, or when they lived. Who can say how many generations passed before the first soul ever accumulated enough virtue to rise? But we do know this: they must have been remarkable individuals. They would not have ascended otherwise." Mo Jian's gaze drifted upward, as if picturing the scene.

"When they arrived and saw the brokenness of the mortal cycle, they vowed to fix it. Thus was born the Divine Court, also known as the Thunder Agency. Heaven was eternal, orderly, and serene. Yet instead of resting, these first ascended ones organized themselves and turned their attention downward, determined to help those still trapped in Samsara." Understanding dawned in Bai Ning's eyes.

"Wait… then they were the ones who spread cultivation?" Mo Jian smiled.

"Yes. Cultivation was created as an alternate path to Heaven, one not dependent on the arbitrariness of karma. Their first messengers sought out martial artists, which is why legends credit ancient warriors as the earliest cultivators. At that time, strength was essential. The world was young and plagued by disasters. The Thunder Agency ended droughts and famines, slew monsters, gave humanity laws and customs. They handed down tools, techniques, and methods to survive." His tone softened.

"Some even descended into Hell, not to increase suffering, but to serve. These became the Hell Gods, divine officials who oversaw punishment out of mercy. They sought to reduce suffering and guide souls toward easier reincarnation." He paused, letting the information settle.

"But what was simple for the first ascended ones was not simple for mortals. From the founding of the Thunder Agency until now, I suspect the number of Celestial Immortals has never exceeded a thousand. It is nearly impossible to reach Heaven through cultivation, still easier than relying on karma, but difficult beyond imagination. And yet… a few persevered. A few succeeded." He lifted his cup again and added, "And there were others – souls born directly in Heaven.

Just as families form in the mortal world, they formed in Heaven too. Children were born, new deities appeared, and Heaven's population grew. Inevitably, ideologies diverged." Mo Jian exhaled heavily and took another sip of tea before continuing.

"That divergence bred conflicts, and soon those conflicts escalated. Thus began the Great War. The event itself is obscured by the fog of myth, but it likely occurred countless millennia ago; hundreds of thousands of years in the past, at the very least. Heaven shattered, and when it broke, the mortal realms cracked as well. Whatever the true cause, we know only this: a war erupted in Heaven, and its shockwaves echoed through the mortal planes." He glanced at Bai Ning, gauging her reaction before speaking again.

"I once read an ancient record that described it like this: 'The skies cracked. One of the Pillars of Heaven fell. From it surged the Primordial Sea, and with it, beasts not seen since before time.' It was a catastrophe beyond imagining. Entire worlds splintered. Calamities rolled forth: plagues, disasters, distortions of the heavens. Constellations fell. The flood of the Primordial Sea swept across the Celestial Court. Beasts howled in the void. Day turned to night. Heaven itself became a place of ruin."

Bai Ning opened her mouth, as though to interrupt, but thought better of it. Mo Jian gave a small, wry smile.

"The gods fought back, of course. Legends tell of Yu the Great, who tamed the floodwaters of the Primordial Sea. The Thunder Gods slew the void beasts, while the Court of the Five Directions held the final defensive line. Nuwa mended the broken pillar. And in the aftermath, three great sovereigns arose in succession to restore order." His expression darkened.

"But while Heaven burned, the gods saw that the mortal realms were suffering as well. They could not descend, as the war demanded every shred of strength, but they found another way to lend aid."

"They sent reflections of their divine treasures into the mortal world. Like the moon's image mirrored on water, these reflections – called shen – carried the spiritual imprint of the original artifacts. Lessened in form, but potent in essence." Bai Ning's eyes widened.

"Each shen," Mo Jian continued, "would awaken within the soul of someone who had reached Immortal Ascension, granting them immense, heaven-defying strength. A divine treasure has no equal except another divine treasure. It needs neither qi nor effort to wield. A single one could save, or damn, a world." He set his cup down again.

"When mortals and immortals alike discovered these shen appearing across the realms, many took them up. With their aid, they fought back floods, slew beasts, quelled celestial anomalies. Cities were saved. Empires survived."

"And if an immortal mastered a divine treasure's reflection to its fullest… they could use it to ascend. Regardless of their cultivation realm." He tapped the table lightly.

"A shen is bound to an immortal's soul. It cannot be stolen, taken, or passed on. Many who awakened one rose to Heaven carrying the treasure's reflection with them, and even today, anyone who discovers a shen upon reaching Immortal Ascension is considered unimaginably fortunate. It promises a path to Heaven that would otherwise be closed." Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. At last, Bai Ning could no longer restrain herself.

"Master, who decides which soul a shen goes to? Was it the deities who cast them down? Did they choose their recipients?" Mo Jian shook his head.

"A shen can bind to any living soul, regardless of cultivation. It can only be recognized upon reaching Immortal Ascension, but in truth, anyone could possess one. Thousands of shen were scattered across the mortal worlds, and although many were found and brought back to Heaven, countless others remain unclaimed, bound to who knows whom." He leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly.

"Some shen are picky. Some are indifferent. Some have criteria, some do not. It varies by the treasure from which the reflection was cast. And we mortals… have no true way of knowing." Bai Ning leaned forward.

"Then how does any of this connect to the Heavenly Omen? It's clearly caused by a divine treasure, but it didn't appear within anyone's soul. Unless you're telling me that every time a divine treasure descends, the entire world can see it." Mo Jian snorted.

"Obviously not. No, what descended was not a shen, but a gui." Bai Ning frowned.

"Gui?"

"Gui," Mo Jian repeated.

"If shen are reflections – ephemeral, spiritual images cast from a divine treasure – then gui are the opposite. A gui is the smallest physical fragment that can be carved from the original divine treasure and still retain its independence. A mere sliver. A shard. In power, it is equivalent to a shen, but it exists as a physical object in the mortal world." He tapped the table for emphasis.

"And unlike the quiet awakening of a shen within someone's soul, every gui is heralded by a Heavenly Omen the moment it appears." Bai Ning inhaled sharply.

"A gui," Mo Jian went on, "is the counterpart to a shen, but its intent is very different. While the shen were cast down by the Thunder Agency to aid mortal realms, the gui were released by the opposing faction in Heaven. Perhaps to stir unrest. Perhaps to escalate the war. Perhaps simply to spread chaos. We cannot know." He sighed.

"What we do know is this: a gui offers no path to ascension. It is merely power; raw, ruthless, and coveted. Because it is physical, it can be stolen, seized, bartered, and fought over. Cultivators have spilled oceans of blood for the faintest rumor of one."

"And only someone who has reached Immortal Ascension can wield a gui properly. In the hands of such a cultivator, its nature determines the scale of their dominance. A defensive treasure can render its wielder untouchable; no attack short of another divine treasure could pierce its barrier. An offensive treasure… is worse. With one, a single cultivator could kill billions, even trillions, at will." Bai Ning's eyes gleamed despite the subject matter.

The idea of divine treasures, whether shen or gui, was intoxicating to any cultivator, and Mo Jian couldn't fault her for that. She asked, "The one that descended in the Thousand Shattered Islands, what treasure was it? And who claimed it?"

"The gui that fell was the South Pointing Chariot," Mo Jian said.

"A navigational tool meant for guiding travel through the void between worlds or through fractured space. In truth, it is a compass for the Primordial Sea." He lifted a brow in amusement.

"But without the accompanying divine treasures required for such journeys, it is nearly useless. That is why no one holds it yet. The immortals refused to be dragged into conflict, so the Nascent Soul cultivators battled for it and ultimately agreed on a solution."

"What solution?"

"A tournament," Mo Jian replied. Bai Ning echoed the word under her breath, already leaping ahead to the inescapable conclusion, but Mo Jian raised his hand before she could speak further.

"We will discuss that in detail later. Let me finish this tale first." She blinked.

"…There's more?" He nodded.

"Yes. And it concerns the single event that shaped the course of cultivation and the lives of every single cultivator in this world. Perhaps the greatest disaster in living memory." Bai Ning's eyes widened.

"The Shattering had to do with a divine treasure?" Mo Jian gave a bitter smile.

"More accurate to say it was caused by one. But to understand that, you must first picture the world as it was four thousand years ago." He leaned back slightly.

"Records from that era are scarce, but not nonexistent. We know that over a million immortals walked the world at once. Terrestrial Immortals were rare but present. And the few Flying Immortals made their homes on the moon-""They lived on the moon?" Bai Ning blurted, unable to stop herself. Mo Jian blinked, then laughed softly.

"I should have expected that to catch your attention. Remember: a Flying Immortal's inner world can roam freely across the planet and even beyond it, but not through the true void. So, to cultivate further – to sense cosmic qi, which is very different from the Heaven-and-Earth qi we know – many of them took residence on the moon, hoping to step into the realm of Roaming Immortals."

He added, "Though only one Roaming Immortal hailing from Tianxia in that age has a confirmed name: the Golden Emperor, and whether he was a myth or a man is still debated." Bai Ning shook her head slowly.

"To think immortals were so common that the strongest among them had to leave the world entirely." Mo Jian smiled in shared wonder.

"Indeed. Travel between worlds existed, but remained uncommon. Wandering Immortals traveled as curiosity drove them, traversing major and minor realms in pursuit of understanding. And some immortals possessed shen, or gui, of divine treasures that facilitated such travel, creating small networks of trade between worlds." He lifted a finger.

"In Tianxia specifically, the only local cultivator known to hold a divine treasure was the Immortal of Wisdom, owner of the shen of the-" He hesitated, almost reconsidering if he should mention such an important plot point from the book so early. Then he simply barreled on.

"-the Ruyi Lotus Scepter." Bai Ning, unaware of his momentary pause, waited patiently as he went on.

"In those days, a cultivator began rising through the ranks. His name is lost to history, but he followed the path of slaughter: killing to advance. Alone, he was insignificant; at that time, a single demonic cultivator posed no real threat. But letting him grow unchecked was a mistake, one whose consequences would only appear later." Mo Jian's expression darkened.

"When that cultivator finally became an immortal, or more accurately, became the Immortal of Slaughter, he discovered a shen within his soul." Bai Ning leaned back, resignation settling across her face.

"Let me guess. He became a disaster no one could handle."

"It was far worse than that," Mo Jian said quietly.

"The shen he awakened was the Crimson Pennant. If you don't remember it, I can lend you the folktale War for the Heavenly Register, which describes a fictionalized retelling of the treasure. But in short: the Crimson Pennant is one of three divine flags which, when combined, form a formation capable of trapping and killing even deities. In fact, formations as we know them today are likely inspired by this set." He continued, voice low and grim.

"But even alone, the Crimson Pennant is monstrous. It can liquefy any living being into a red fluid instantly, without any defense or resistance capable of stopping it. It can summon floods of that same red fluid to drown entire worlds." Bai Ning blanched.

"You can guess what followed," Mo Jian said.

"The Immortal of Slaughter turned Tianxia into his personal slaughterhouse. He believed that by killing every living being here – and then in other worlds – he could ascend to Heaven. Only the Immortal of Wisdom could oppose him, because the Ruyi Lotus Scepter is a defensive treasure. But even then, it protected only the wielder. Everyone else was left to perish." Mo Jian inhaled slowly.

"I cannot say how many died. Surviving records estimate nine out of every ten people in the world perished. The scale of destruction defies comprehension." Bai Ning looked a bit sick, but she still asked, "How was he stopped?"

"Everyone fought him. Almost every cultivator died. At first, several demonic cultivators followed him, fighting in his name, believing he would spare them, but he slew them as readily as anyone else. It became a war that devoured the entire world. In the end, only the Immortal of Wisdom remained with the power to challenge him. He tried again and again, but failed each time. He himself could not be harmed, but he could not protect Tianxia either." Mo Jian's voice softened, becoming almost silent.

"Driven to the brink of despair, the Immortal of Wisdom did something that has never been done before, or since. He damaged a shen." Bai Ning stared.

"He split the shen he possessed, breaking the Ruyi Lotus Scepter into two: one shen, and one gui. Paradoxical as it sounds, he did it anyway, transforming the ephemeral reflection into a physical object and a new spiritual essence." Mo Jian held up two fingers.

"The gui – the physical fragment – fell into the world and was lost. But the shen, the spiritual essence, he reshaped into a prison. He wrapped it around all of Tianxia, forming a barrier that trapped the Immortal of Slaughter within his own inner world. Tighter and tighter, until the monster could not even leave the confines of his own realm. The Immortal of Wisdom died in the process, sacrificing himself to contain the horror." He paused, letting Bai Ning absorb the enormity that event.

"But using the Ruyi Lotus Scepter in such a way shattered the very fabric of space around Tianxia. That catastrophe became known as the Shattering, because it severed our world's moorings in the Three Thousandfold World System. We were cast adrift into the Primordial Sea." He spread his hands in a helpless gesture.

"And so we remain. Isolated and cut off from Heaven and from every other world. Adrift in the void. And within our world, somewhere, lies a mad immortal with a shen – forever imprisoned and struggling to escape, but not dead." The Immortal of Slaughter was also the final villain Ye Chen had faced before leaving Tianxia behind. He did not add that aloud, of course. No need to trouble Bai Ning with the possibility of that mad man escaping, not just yet.

In fact, Mo Jian did not want to imagine such a thing himself, but he knew what was coming from reading the story. As his voice faded, the room settled into a heavy stillness, as though the weight of history had pressed down on the air. Bai Ning sat motionless, absorbing the enormity of everything she'd heard. At last, she bowed her head.

"I… think I understand. Not everything, but enough. Thank you for telling me, Master." Mo Jian gave her a tired smile.

"I had hoped we might postpone such conversations for a few more years. But man plans, and Heaven laughs. All I ask is this: if you have questions, bring them to me, and tell no one else what I've said today. Some of this is common knowledge to Core Formation experts and above, but other parts… let's just say the source of my knowledge is best left hidden." Bai Ning straightened, her expression steady.

"I understand. I won't betray your trust. But it does explain so much… like why the Heavenly Omen over the Thousand Shattered Islands caused such a stir. Is it truly the first shen or gui since the Shattering? Or have there been others?" Mo Jian raised an eyebrow at the mixture of awe and avarice in her tone.

"The first, so far as anyone knows. If any immortal currently alive possessed a shen, they would already rule Tianxia without challenge. And as for a gui, this is the only recorded Heavenly Omen since the Shattering. Most people believed such things were myths." She nodded slowly, letting that settle. Then she exhaled and, quite suddenly, smiled. Bright, warm, and unmistakably Bai Ning.

"All right. I'm ready." Mo Jian blinked.

"For what?"

"For the tournament, of course!" she said, cheer returning to her voice like the sun breaking through clouds. Mo Jian closed his eyes, feeling a headache blooming right behind them. Of course she had figured it out. And of course she was excited. That smile of hers always heralded mischief, or trouble, or both.