I Swear I’m Not a Demonic Cultivator - Chapter 49
Chapter 49
“Fang Zheng… truly possesses great love!”
Tie Xue Leng’s words struck Tie Yuyao’s heart like a siege hammer, leaving her utterly stunned.
A sage? Great love?
These words, spoken by her father—a man who had dedicated his entire life to upholding justice—to describe… to describe him…
Tie Yuyao’s face flushed crimson, turning liver-red in an instant.
A searing heat surged from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head, burning her ears until they were red-hot, almost dripping with blood.
What have I done?
Her gaze drifted uncontrollably toward the man kneeling on the ground.
He knelt there, barely alive, his breathing as faint as a candle flickering in the wind. Yet the emerald bamboo clutched in his hand radiated a sacred light that she dared not meet directly.
The pure white blossoms and verdant leaves seemed to slap her across the face in silent condemnation.
They proclaimed her folly, arrogance, and depravity with deafening clarity.
So it was me all along… the one with the filthy heart, the despicable bastard.
I deserve to die!
Tie Yuyao could no longer stand upright.
Like a marionette with severed strings, she stumbled stiffly toward Fang Zheng. Under her father’s icy stare, she abruptly bent at the waist, bowing deeply at a ninety-degree angle, burying her head so deeply she wished she could dig a hole and bury herself alive.
“I… I’m so sorry… I…”
Her voice trembled uncontrollably, cracking with sobs, but she couldn’t force the words out.
Shame gnawed at her throat like countless ants.
Tie Xue Leng didn’t even glance at her.
He stepped forward, his hands—the same hands that could crush a Beast Emperor’s skull barehanded—now moved with almost reverent caution as he carefully took the flowering “Bamboo Gentleman” from Fang Zheng’s weakening grip.
The holy light reflected off his cold, hardened face.
He shot a sidelong glance at his daughter, who looked like she wanted to die on the spot, and his voice regained its icy chill, like the blizzards of the Northern Territory.
“To the treasury.”
“The Ice Plains Bear Emperor’s Spinal Cord.”
“Bring it.”
Tie Yuyao’s head snapped up, her voice shrill. “Father! For him? Using the Bear Emperor’s Spinal Cord? That’s…”
That was the dowry you promised me…
“Bring it.”
Tie Xue Leng repeated, his voice devoid of warmth, negotiation, or anything but cold command.
Tie Yuyao whirled around and fled, bolting out of the stone chamber as if escaping a nightmare.
Silence descended once more in the stone chamber, broken only by the occasional crackle and pop of the burning charcoal.
Tie Xue Leng didn’t help Fang Zheng up.
Like a lone wolf circling a dying prey in the blizzard, he paced around the kneeling figure in heavy military boots. Each step reverberated dully against the hard stone slabs.
Fang Zheng lay there like a shattered stone statue abandoned in a snow-covered temple. The world outside had dissolved into blurry patches of color and meaningless noise.
Tie Xue Leng circled around to face him, crouched down, and met his gaze. He ignored the horrifying wounds tearing Fang Zheng’s body apart from within, and he paid no heed to the dark golden Golden Core—a crack-riddled orb radiating deathly silence and ominous foreboding.
His gaze was like two blades forged in millennia of frozen ice, piercing straight into the depths of Fang Zheng’s hollow eyes. There, beneath the surface, lay scorched earth—a wasteland burned clean by Karmic Fire.
Nothing remained.
“The external wounds, the meridians, the Golden Core… they’re all illusions,” Tie Xue Leng’s voice rumbled like an undercurrent beneath glacial ice. “Your body is just an empty shell. But the true affliction lies here.”
He extended his calloused index finger and, instead of pressing it against Fang Zheng’s Dantian, stabbed heavily into his chest.
“Your heart… it’s shattered.”
“A cultivator whose spirit has shattered and whose beliefs have become a mockery is nothing more than a breathing corpse, even if given the flesh of a True Immortal.”
“The youthful spirit is a treasure lost forever…”
Fang Zheng’s body remained motionless.
But Tie Xue Leng’s iron-cold fingers detected an imperceptible, involuntary spasm in the muscles over Fang Zheng’s heart.
Not quite dead yet.
Tie Xue Leng slowly rose, clasped his hands behind his back, and began to speak in a tone bordering on cruelty.
“Have you heard the story of Ancestor Qiu?”
The name “Ancestor Qiu” fell into the bottomless abyss like two pebbles, without echo.
“The world knows Ancestor Qiu silenced the slaughter of countless Foreign Race armies with a single word.”
“But few know that he also forged his Golden Core through nine trials of near-death, refining his shattered spirit to its utmost limit.”
He stared into Fang Zheng’s eyes, each word deliberate and heavy as a death sentence.
“Nine Refinements of the Golden Core: Break! Then Rebuild!”
Break! Then! Rebuild!
A black lightning bolt tore through the eternal night, striking without warning into the chaotic, deathly silent sea of Fang Zheng’s consciousness!
Heaven Rewards Diligence…
Diligence Compensates for Weakness…
Shattered… Can it be refined again?
Can I… still… refine it?
The bloodless hand sprawled on the ground clenched violently, fingernails digging deep into the hard stone floor with a grating, teeth-grinding screech.
“Hah.”
Tie Xue Leng watched Fang Zheng’s violent reaction, the corner of his lips finally curving into a cruel smirk.
“How fortunate. A Secret Realm left behind by Ancestor Qiu in the Northern Territory is about to open. Perhaps it holds the answers you seek.”
He added, “One more piece of advice: Better to blame others than to waste yourself on internal struggles.”
“You’re too kind, too honest. The world will devour you whole…”
Just as the words left his lips,
Creak—
The stone door was violently thrust open. Tie Yuyao, panting heavily, rushed back in, clutching a white jade box radiating an astonishingly frigid aura. Her cheeks were still flushed with exertion.
Tie Xue Leng took the jade box without turning his head and glanced inside.
Within lay the Bear Emperor’s Spinal Cord, resembling solidified moonlight, radiating a vitality that could freeze souls.
He glanced at Fang Zheng on the ground, whose faint spark of life had just flickered into existence, yet remained so fragile it threatened to extinguish at any moment.
“However,” he shifted his tone, his voice hardening again like cold iron.
“In your current ghost-like state, you wouldn’t stand a chance in the Secret Realm. You couldn’t even defeat the weakest Ice Plains Wolf pup, let alone seize any opportunities.”
“You’d simply be feeding the Monster Beasts a snack.”
He casually tossed the priceless jade box in front of Fang Zheng.
“Consider this compensation for my daughter’s foolishness. Whether you survive until the Secret Realm opens… that’s up to your own fate.”
Tie Xue Leng turned and strode out.
“After all, Ancestor Qiu ultimately transcended to immortality. Walking his path won’t be easy.”