Love Burning Amidst the Ashes. - Chapter 11 - The Gates Open

The journey west was a trek across a razor’s edge.

Xu Qing Xuan moved within the flow of refugees. The closer they drew to the main road, the more exiles trickled in from every hidden gully and burned-out village, merging into a single, faceless tide. Old Man Zhang’s little band had dissolved within half a day of leaving Blackstone Hollow, swallowed by the greater mass. The churning, anonymous crowd was his only cover now. He was utterly alone, the blood-stained leather belt a tight, grim reminder cinched around his waist. Every step forward gnawed at the dregs of his strength. The Yin-Yang Jade Disc against his chest pulsed with a faint, stubborn light, its cool energy a desperate, ongoing battle—combing the chaos in his sea of consciousness, fighting the erosion of the Yin Sha, and suppressing the subtle, never-ceasing tremors from the heavy, ice-cold black compass pressed beside it. The vibrations were a constant warning, a viper’s hiss, reminding him that the shadow hunting his soul had not fallen behind.

Three days of relentless travel had bled him dry. His face was a pale, translucent mask, his lips cracked and peeling. Only in the depths of his clear eyes remained an unshakable, ice-forged calm. He could feel the “tail” still watching from some unseen corner. Chen Lao Jiu was nowhere to be seen now, a hidden fuse on an unseen bomb. Along the way, thirst was slaked by handfuls of muddy stream water; hunger dulled by chewing on bitter, fibrous roots that were hard to swallow.

On the dawn of the fourth day, a peak of such impossible grandeur that it defied description pierced through the sea of misty clouds and slammed into Xu Qing Xuan’s vision. Even with a will tempered in iron, his breath caught in his throat.

Yun Miao Peak!

The mountain gate of the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion!

This was no work of mortal hands. It was the very spine of the world, ancient beyond reckoning. The peak rose like a blade sheathed in stone, sheer and arrogant, stabbing into the heavens. Its upper half was completely swallowed by a churning, milky-white ocean of clouds, leaving only a lower portion of stark, breathtaking majesty exposed. Verdant, primordial forests clung to its slopes. Waterfalls plunged like silver ribbons torn from the sky itself, scattering light into a thousand shards of gold in the morning sun. Countless pavilions and towers were grafted onto the mountainside—some clinging to sheer cliffs, others half-hidden in the swirling mists. Their upturned eaves and intricately carved beams hinted at an elegance that belonged not to the mortal realm, but to a realm of mist and immortality. A mighty mountain wind swept down, carrying with it the dense, life-rich scent of ancient flora and a crisp, purifying energy that seemed to scour the very soul. For a moment, even the rampaging Yin Sha force within him seemed to recoil.

The path to this celestial sanctuary, however, was a sight to inspire dread.

The “Path of Ascension.”

A staircase wrought from countless massive blocks of dark green jade, each slab over thirty feet wide, began at the mountain’s foot. It ascended, step by inexorable step, winding its way upward until it vanished into the clouds, its end unseen. The surface of each jade step was polished to a mirror-smooth sheen, its edges worn round by untold ages, yet it still glowed with a deep, inner light. Upon each slab, almost imperceptible to the eye, flowed the faintest tracery of luminous sigils. They connected, one to the next, forming a vast, invisible web that covered not just the staircase, but likely the entirety of Yun Miao Peak—the first gate of the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion’s mountain protection array!

Already, a crowd had gathered before the gate. There were young nobles in fine silks, surrounded by retinues; travel-worn solitary cultivators with eyes full of anxious hope; and steady, confident figures who clearly carried some reputation. They stood in small groups, whispering, or sat alone in meditative repose. All eyes were drawn irresistibly to that jade stairway leading into the clouds, filled with awe, longing, and a tension they could not fully hide.

Xu Qingxuan’s arrival was a pebble dropped into a deep lake, causing barely a ripple. His blue robe was ragged and soiled, his face bloodless parchment, his aura weak and discordant. He was utterly unremarkable in this gathering, drawing only a few fleeting glances of dismissive scrutiny. A mortally wounded refugee, daring to knock at the gates of immortality? A fool’s dream.

He moved in silence to the edge of the crowd, finding a low rock to lean against, struggling to steady the ragged, burning rhythm of his breath. He did not attempt the stairs. Instead, he sank his entire consciousness into his sea of awareness, summoning the profound perception granted by the jade disc. With utmost caution, he reached out to touch the edges of the monumental array before him.

Ripples spread through his mind, soundless and profound.

The peaceful, smooth jade staircase transformed in his perception. It became a lattice of countless, invisible threads of energy, a web of impossible complexity shrouding every inch of space. These threads were not static; they flowed and vibrated along arcane, unknowable paths, emitting auras that ranged from gentle to severe, from obscure to overwhelmingly vast. They wove together into a single, immense, and self-sustaining field of power. It was a road, a sieve, and an annihilating trap. Any who tried to force their way in without permission would be utterly unmade within this invisible net.

This was the foundation of the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion. This was the unbridgeable chasm between the mortal and the immortal.

Xu Qingxuan’s heart sank like a stone. His body was a ruin, his strength spent, his sea of consciousness a storm-tossed wreck from the Yin Sha and the jade’s onslaught. This array was an insurmountable mountain. To charge it would be certain death.

Just as this grim realization settled upon him, a commotion broke out on the lower steps, followed by sharp cries of alarm.

A burly, bearded man with a giant axe strapped to his back—clearly confident in his own power, or perhaps dismissive of the “ordinary-looking” stairs—snorted impatiently. Without waiting for a signal from the blue-robed acolyte guiding the front of the line, he took a heavy, decisive step onto the first jade slab.

The moment his foot made contact—

HUMMMM—

The seemingly benign dark jade erupted in a blinding flash of golden light! Countless intricate golden runes swarmed to the surface like living things, swirling with frantic energy. A pressure of mountainous, irresistible force manifested from nothing and hammered into the bearded man with devastating fury.

THWUMP!

The man didn’t even have time to cry out. His face flushed, then paled, then turned a sickly grey. A torrent of blood erupted from his mouth. His powerful body was flung backwards as if struck by an invisible titan’s hammer, crashing down on the rocky ground over thirty feet away with a sickening crunch. His great axe clattered uselessly beside him. He tried to rise, limbs trembling, but could only lie there, chest heaving, blood still bubbling from his lips, his eyes wide with utter shock and disbelief.

“A mortal shell without undergoing inspection, dares tread the Immortal Stairs? He has only himself to blame.” A cool, dispassionate voice cut through the stunned silence. It came from a young acolyte in blue robes holding a horsetail whisk, standing calmly to the side of the staircase. He gazed at the fallen man with an expression of detached indifference, as one might regard a speck of dust. “Remove him. Do not sully the purity of the gate.” Two other acolytes of similar dress stepped forward immediately and, with efficient movements, dragged the insensate man away.

The spectacle was a bucket of ice water, dousing the last flickers of luck and arrogance in the hearts of many onlookers. The majesty of the immortal gate brooked no insult! This jade staircase was the first, and the most merciless, of all sieves!

Xu Qing Xuan’s pupils contracted. Every alarm in his mind screamed to life. The power of this array far exceeded his estimation! That bearded man’s aura had been solid, at the very least a warrior whose physical training had borne fruit. Yet, he couldn’t even set one foot upon it before being grievously wounded! In his own battered state, how could he possibly pass?

His hand tightened instinctively around the Yin-Yang Jade Disc in his robes. A faint thread of coolness emanated from it against his palm, a subtle response to his anxiety. And at that precise moment, deep within the chaotic torrent of information in his sea of consciousness, a minuscule spark of enlightenment—like a dormant star being nudged—flared quietly to life.

It was… that spatial defense rune! The one the jade disc had briefly imprinted upon him within the underground passage, the one that had saved his life in a moment of mortal peril. It had lain dormant since, buried in the vast sea of fragmented knowledge. Now, confronted by this colossal, intricate mountain-protection array, this slumbering shard of a rune vibrated faintly, as if drawn by a powerful magnet.

A daring, lightning-bolt of an idea flashed through Xu Qing Xuan’s mind.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing down the churning of his qi and blood and the stabbing pain in his consciousness. Slowly, he rose to his feet. Ignoring the surrounding gazes—some pitying, some mocking, most simply indifferent—he offered a brief, formal salute with clasped hands toward the acolyte. Then, dragging his legs which felt filled with molten lead, he walked step by heavy step toward the jade staircase radiating its invisible, oppressive might.

All eyes locked onto this foolhardy “refugee.” Some shook their heads in pitying sighs; others wore smirks of derision, waiting to witness another lesson in overreach.

Xu Qing Xuan stopped before the first step. He did not immediately ascend. Instead, he slowly closed his eyes, pouring his entire focus into his sea of consciousness, striving with all his might to grasp that faint, elusive spark connected to the spatial defense rune fragment. Simultaneously, with his left hand still gripping the jade disc hidden in his robes, he pressed down with all his remaining mental energy on a specific, seemingly natural indentation on the disc’s back—a groove that felt like part of its inherent grain.

Huummm—!

A tremor, perceptible only to Xu Qing Xuan himself, resonated from the depths of his soul! The millet-sized pearl at the center of the jade disc flickered with a nearly imperceptible point of pure white light! The interlocking Yin-Yang fish on its surface, as if infused with invisible vitality, began to rotate—painfully slowly, and counter to their natural direction.

At the precise instant the fish reversed their flow—

Xu Qing Xuan snapped his eyes open. In the clear depths of his pupils, countless star-trajectories seemed to flash and vanish. He hesitated no longer. He lifted his foot and placed it, firm and steady, onto the first dark green jade slab.

No golden light erupted.

No runes surged forth.

No terrifying pressure descended.

The jade step beneath his foot merely trembled, a vibration so faint it was almost nothing—like the single, tiny ripple from a pebble dropped into a still pond. This ripple of energy spread out instantly, dissolving into the vast, flowing current of the grand array.

The anticipated annihilating force did not come. Xu Qing Xuan’s body swayed only a fraction before he found his balance, standing firm!

“Hm?” The blue-robed acolyte with the horsetail whisk exhibited his first clear sign of surprise. Having overseen the reception for years, he had witnessed countless souls attempt these Stairs of Ascension—some struggling pitifully, some moving with arduous effort, some, like the recent bearded man, struck down instantly. But never before had he seen someone like this youth before him—one whose aura flickered on the edge of extinction, clad in rags—step onto the first stair as if it were common stone, provoking only the faintest whisper of a response from the array!

A wave of astonished murmurs swept through the waiting crowd. Gazes sharp with disbelief, suspicion, and naked shock pierced Xu Qing Xuan from all sides. How was this possible?!

Xu Qing Xuan felt no joy, only a deeper, more profound gravity. He “saw” it clearly: the moment the jade’s power activated the rune fragment and the fish reversed, the web of energy threads beneath his feet had rippled with that minuscule disturbance. It wasn’t destruction. It was more like… a peculiar resonance? Or perhaps, a temporary “merging” with a specific, fleeting frequency of the array’s operation—achieved through a method he couldn’t comprehend? The jade’s power and the defense rune fragment acted like two exquisitely precise keys, momentarily unlocking a narrow, personal passage through the labyrinth of the grand formation!

But this passage was dangerously unstable! The light from the jade disc was fading rapidly; the reversed rotation of the fish was growing sluggish and strained, as if on the verge of collapse. The spark of runic enlightenment he’d gathered in his mind wavered precariously.

He could not stop!

Xu Qing Xuan clenched his jaw until his gums ached, the coppery taste of blood seeping onto his tongue. Suppressing the agony flaring across his back and the wave of dizziness as the Yin Sha force seized the moment to counterattack, he lifted his foot once more and planted it on the second step.

Hummm!

The green jade step beneath his foot trembled again, sending out another ripple of energy that merged seamlessly with the grand formation. The pressure remained, but it was no longer the crushing, annihilating force from before. Instead, it felt like heavy manacles clamped around his limbs—each step requiring immense mental fortitude and physical stamina to maintain that fragile state of “resonance.”

One step, two steps, three…

His progress was agonizingly slow, each movement like wading through deep mire. Fine beads of cold sweat broke out on his temples, tracing paths down his gaunt, pallid cheeks. The robe on his back was soaked through, a clammy mix of perspiration and the dark red seepage from his wounds, plastered to his skin. The blood-stained leather belt around his waist bit deep, a constant, grounding pain that also served as a tether, holding him upright. The jade disc against his chest grew warmer, its central pearl’s light flickering erratically, threatening to gutter out at any moment. The reversed rotation of the Yin-Yang fish grew slower, more labored.

Deep within his sea of consciousness, the Yin Sha force, like sharks scenting blood, launched frenzied assaults against that last bastion of clarity where the runic spark flickered. The chaotic torrent of information fragments surged like a runaway flood, threatening to drown him completely. Agony, vertigo, icy cold, searing heat… a cacophony of sensations tore at his nerves.

But he could not stop! He could not fall!

He felt as if he stood at the eye of a colossal energy vortex. Beneath his feet raged the vast, inexorable flow of the formation’s power. And he, reliant on the fragile barrier formed by the jade and that single rune fragment, was like a lone leaf boat attempting to sail upstream against a raging torrent. Every lift and placement of his foot meant he had to re-align, to thread the needle through countless invisible energy threads with his resonating frequency. Maintaining that precarious balance was like walking a tightrope over a bottomless chasm—a single misstep meant utter oblivion!

Below the staircase, the murmurs of the crowd gradually died away, replaced by a breathless, tense silence. Everyone stared, eyes wide, at the figure slowly, stubbornly inching his way up the jade steps—a figure that seemed perpetually on the verge of collapse, yet somehow, miraculously, kept moving upward. That near-fanatical tenacity stirred something in the hearts of many onlookers.

The tenth step… the twentieth… the thirtieth…

As the altitude increased, so did the invisible pressure, layer upon suffocating layer. Xu Qing Xuan’s breathing was the ragged rasp of a broken bellows, each inhalation a tearing agony in his chest. Darkness swam at the edges of his vision, the world beginning to blur and sway. The jade disc was now scalding hot; the flow of the fish had nearly ground to a halt! The runic spark in his mind was a guttering candle flame in a gale.

Just as he placed his foot on the fortieth step, his body convulsing with pain and weakness, threatening to pitch forward—

A sudden transformation erupted!

HUMMMMMM—!

A deep, resonant hum, far clearer and more profound than any before, seemed to emanate from the very heart of Yun Miao Peak itself! This was not an attack, but a sound imbued with an ineffable majesty and vastness.

Immediately after, the entire stretch of green jade staircase beneath Xu Qing Xuan’s feet lit up with a soft, undulating, milky-white radiance! The light was not blinding, but pure, almost sacred in its essence. It enveloped Xu Qing Xuan in an instant.

Even more astonishing, the Yin-Yang Jade Disc at his chest flew free of his robes of its own accord, completely beyond his control! It hovered before him, suspended in the air. On its surface, the Yin-Yang fish—which had nearly stalled—now spun with frantic, violent energy as if infused with colossal vitality! Two streams of energy, one black as the abyss, one white as a clear spring, erupted from the fishes’ eyes. No longer faint auras, they were now solid, tangible ribbons of light! They twisted, chased, collided, yet merged in a bizarre, harmonious dance, forming a dynamically shifting, profoundly mysterious Taiji diagram!

The milky-white radiance from the staircase seemed to find its source, converging in silken strands toward that black-and-white Taiji diagram! It was like parched earth drinking in rain, or a wanderer finally finding home.

The hum grew louder, transforming from a deep resonance into something grand, solemn—like the simultaneous ringing of ancient bells and chimes, echoing through the entire mountain gate! The sea of clouds churned in response; the mountain winds seemed to still. Everyone gathered before the gate, noble or common cultivator, felt a tremor from the depths of their souls, an instinctive awe that stole their breath. Their faces were masks of unparalleled shock.

The blue-robed acolyte by the stairs, his previous detachment utterly shattered, stared with an expression of pure, stunned disbelief. His horsetail whisk dropped from nerveless fingers, clattering to the ground unnoticed. His eyes were glued to the wildly spinning black-and-white diagram in the air. “Array… Array Spirit Resonance?!” he stammered, his voice a hushed cry of disbelief. “How… how is this possible?!”

At the very peak of this majestic hum and the swirling Taiji diagram’s intensity—

The converging black-and-white diagram suddenly contracted inward! Then, a figure formed entirely of gentle, condensed white light slowly materialized before Xu Qing Xuan.

It was the translucent image of an old man with snow-white hair and beard, his face lean and austere. He wore flowing white daoist robes, their sleeves moving as if in a silent breeze. An aura of profound insight and serene detachment emanated from him. He was not flesh and blood, but a projection of pure array energy and some ancient will. The old man’s gaze seemed to pierce through endless time, slowly falling upon Xu Qing Xuan’s sweat-drenched, bloodless face, then upon the hovering jade disc that still pulsed with its contrasting light.

A voice, aged and gentle yet carrying undeniable authority, spoke directly into the depths of Xu Qing Xuan’s sea of consciousness. It rang like a great bell, momentarily clearing the chaos within his mind:

“Bearer of the ‘Yin-Yang Jade’… for what purpose do you come?”

Xu Qing Xuan’s spirit shook violently! Yin-Yang Jade? So that was its true name? This apparition… could it be the Array Spirit of the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion’s grand mountain-protection formation? He fought down the churning in his chest and the throbbing pain in his mind, forcing himself to cling to his last shred of lucidity. This is the chance! The only chance!

He did not answer the question, “For what purpose do you come?”

Instead, he abruptly raised his right hand! His index finger, caked with dried mud and blood, began moving rapidly through the air!

His fingertip left no visible trace. Yet, a stream of weak but exceptionally refined mental energy coalesced with his movements, forming an immensely complex pattern—a glyph woven from countless, twisting points of starlight! It was the spatial defense rune fragment! Now, he had forcefully condensed and manifested it!

The moment this starry rune appeared, the light from the hovering jade disc flared brightly! In the eyes of the white-haired Array Spirit’s projected form—eyes that had been as calm and still as ancient ponds—a distinct ripple of emotion appeared for the first time. It was a mix of astonishment, distant recollection, and a trace of… understanding.

The Array Spirit’s gaze shifted from the starry rune to Xu Qing Xuan, then from Xu Qing Xuan to the blood-stained leather belt at his waist, finally coming to rest upon his back—still straight as a pine despite his pallor, where the thick, dark aura of Yin Sha threatened to bleed through his robes.

“Yin Sha penetrating the marrow, meridians withered and damaged…” The Array Spirit’s aged voice resonated again in Xu Qing Xuan’s mind, carrying a sigh so faint it was almost imperceptible. “Bearer of the ‘Yin-Yang Jade,’ comprehending a fragment of the ‘Stellar Shift’… So be it.”

As the words “So be it” faded, the majestic hum receded like a tide. The soft, milky radiance on the staircase instantly withdrew. The light from the jade disc hovering before Xu Qing Xuan dimmed. The Yin-Yang fish slowly ceased their reverse rotation, returning to their original, interlocked, leisurely flow. The disc fell gently back into his sweat-slicked palm, still warm and smooth, yet now exuding an exhausted weariness.

The Array Spirit’s form, the white-bearded elder, also began to dissipate, fading into the air like mist.

The immense pressure bearing down on Xu Qing Xuan vanished abruptly! His body swayed, and he could no longer hold himself upright. One knee struck the cold jade step with a heavy thud. He gasped for air, ragged and desperate, stars exploding before his eyes. Sweat streamed from his brow like a river, splattering onto the mirror-smooth jade. The wound on his back tore with fresh agony; the Yin Sha force, seizing the opportunity, launched a fierce counterattack that nearly hurled him into unconsciousness. But he clenched his teeth, dredging up the last shreds of his will, his fingers closing tightly around the jade disc in his palm. He would not fall.

Below the staircase, a tomb-like silence reigned.

Everyone was stupefied by the unbelievable spectacle. The Array Spirit’s manifestation! The jade’s resonance! That mysterious rune the youth had traced… It all defied comprehension. The blue-robed acolyte’s face shifted through a spectrum of emotions, his gaze toward Xu Qing Xuan now filled with deep suspicion and complex thoughts.

It was then that a rather shrill voice, laced with evident displeasure, pierced the strange quiet from higher up the stairs:

“What is going on? Who is causing such a disturbance, startling the Array Spirit?”

A middle-aged man descended the steps with quick, irritated strides, accompanied by a young disciple. He was slightly plump, dressed in the dark blue robes of a steward, with a thin, rodent-like mustache. His expression was sour as his eyes swept over the dumbstruck crowd below before finally landing on the kneeling, disheveled figure of Xu Qing Xuan on the steps. His brows immediately furrowed into a knot, his eyes flashing with unconcealed disgust.

When his gaze flicked over the jade disc clenched in Xu Qing Xuan’s hand, that disgust was swiftly joined by a fleeting, hard-to-catch glimmer of shock and… avarice? Particularly when he noticed the filthy, blood-and-mud-caked leather belt around Xu Qing Xuan’s waist, his lips curled downward in a sneer, as if beholding something utterly vile.

“Hmph! A mortally wounded mortal refugee, daring to disrupt the sanctity of our mountain gate?” The mustached steward’s voice held a tone of scolding superiority. He stopped several paces away from Xu Qingxuan, as if afraid of contamination, and pointed vaguely with his horsetail whisk. He barked an order to the blue-robed acolyte beside him: “Why haven’t you removed him yet? How utterly unsightly to leave him here!”

The blue-robed acolyte hesitated for a split second. He stepped forward, offering a respectful bow to the steward, then glanced at Xu Qing Xuan—still kneeling, breath faint, but gripping the jade disc tightly. He spoke in a low, uncertain voice: “Steward Zhao… this person… he seemed to have stirred the Array Spirit’s manifestation just now…”

“Array Spirit manifestation?” The man addressed as Steward Zhao’s voice shot up an octave, thick with disbelief and ridicule. “Him?! A half-dead peasant?” He let out a derisive snort, as if hearing the world’s greatest joke. His eyes swept over Xu Qing Xuan and the jade disc once more, the shock in them deepening before being overtaken by even stronger revulsion and a glint of calculation. “It must have been a random fluctuation in the ancient array! How can we allow someone of unknown origin, tainted by sinister energies and grievously wounded, to remain at our gate? He’d pollute the spiritual air, not to mention the risk of his internal affliction erupting and disturbing the inner sect’s cultivation! Could you bear that responsibility?”

He didn’t wait for the acolyte’s explanation, waving his hand impatiently, his tone final and absolute. “Immediately! Take him to the Herb Valley’s menial labor section! Put him to work tending the medicinal fields! If he survives, it’s his fortune. If he doesn’t, it’s his fate! At least he won’t further sully the Path of Ascension!” He emphasized the words “menial labor section” and “tending the medicinal fields,” a sliver of icy malice flashing deep in his eyes.

The blue-robed acolyte opened his mouth as if to say more, but seeing Steward Zhao’s uncompromising expression, he finally lowered his head in acquiescence. “Yes, Steward Zhao.” He turned to Xu Qing Xuan, his voice flat and unreadable. “Follow me.”

With immense effort, Xu Qing Xuan lifted his head. Sweat-drenched strands of hair clung to his temples, his face ghostly pale. Yet, through the blur of sweat, his clear eyes accurately captured the fleeting greed and cold intent in Steward Zhao’s gaze, as well as the small, inconspicuous talisman pouch hanging at the steward’s waist. It was embroidered with a twisted silver rune—a pattern that bore a faint, unsettling resemblance to the talismans used by the grey-robed Taoist!

Beneath the frozen surface of the lake, treacherous undercurrents swirled.

He said nothing. Using the last feeble threads of support from the jade disc, he slowly, agonizingly, pushed himself to his feet. His body still swayed precariously, as if a breeze could topple him. In silence, he followed the blue-robed acolyte, each step a heavy, laborious movement on the smooth, cold jade steps, heading deeper into the mountain gate shrouded in clouds and mist. Against the backdrop of the dark blue steward’s robes, the charred wound on his back stood out like a silent brand.

The immortal gate had opened, but the path ahead was far from smooth. The medicinal fields of Herb Valley—were they a cage for a dying man to gasp his last, or a starting point for a dormant predator to bide his time? The talisman pouch at Steward Zhao’s waist gleamed like a viper’s pupil in the deep mist, flickering with an ominous light.