Chapter 203: Fallen Leaves of Late Autumn
Chapter 203: Fallen Leaves of Late Autumn
“Indeed, this is the essence of cultivation. Many get stuck at certain levels forever, lacking the right chance or failing to meet specific conditions. The heavenly way is flawed, permitting no perfection. Yet cultivation demands extremes and perfection—directly opposing the heavenly laws. In the end, those who can’t shatter these shackles face death. Those who succeed rise above heaven and earth.”
Cheng Lingyu pondered these words, his smile growing slowly.
“Elder brother’s Realm must be quite advanced?”
Wan Fang chuckled. “Passable, passable. What’s next for you?”
“I’ll revisit all I’ve learned from the start. Strengthening foundations brings new insights.”
“Keep striving. I’ll visit Lou Ri City now.”
Wan Fang patted Cheng Lingyu’s shoulder and vanished without a trace.
Cheng Lingyu stood and sought a place to review his skills.
This was Thousand Layers of Snow’s method—restarting cultivation at each new Realm to chase flawlessness.
Training in it had altered Cheng Lingyu’s temperament, molding him into a perfectionist.
This change hindered rapid advancement but let him dominate peers and surpass higher-level foes effortlessly.
At dusk, Cheng Lingyu reached Liyun Palace in the Fifth Palace of Fallen God, meeting Elder Brother Mu Hua after long absence.
“Cheng junior apprentice, where’ve you been?”
Mu Hua greeted him warmly, clapping his shoulder with casual ease that comforted Cheng Lingyu.
“Focused on cultivation. Your power has grown, Elder Brother.”
Mu Hua laughed. “Thanks to your Wind and Thunder Five Absolute Kill. My grasp of engraved formations deepened, bringing great gains. I’ll soon reach Blood Martial Third Level.”
Higher Realms meant slower progress.
Mu Hua had joined Fallen God Ridge at Blood Weapon Second Level. Months later, he remained there—proof that Blood Martial Realm advanced far slower than Soul Martial Realm.
“May you ascend swiftly to Blood Martial Third Level.”
“It won’t take long. I saw Fang junior sister—she’s reached Soul Martial Sixth Realm’s Soul Domain stage and now cultivates her Soul Domain Avatar. A critical phase.”
Soul Domain shaped space; Avatar condensed essence—the Soul Martial Realm’s pivotal trial.
Cheng Lingyu frowned. “None can aid her there. It’s hers alone.”
“Don’t let her outpace you.”
“Once I clear the cave heaven stage, Shadow Transformation will follow quickly.”
Mu Hua nodded. “Of the Seven Levels of Soul Martial Arts, cave heaven and Soul Domain stages consume most time. Beyond them, progress accelerates.”
Cheng Lingyu inclined his head, entering Liyun Palace with Mu Hua to discuss engraved formations.
Though lower in cultivation, Cheng Lingyu’s comprehension far exceeded Mu Hua’s.
Their night-long exchange advanced Mu Hua’s cultivation significantly.
Dawn mist hung like smoke.
Cheng Lingyu stood cliffside, morning wind tugging his robes.
At Liyun Palace’s entrance, Mu Hua watched Cheng Lingyu’s figure, an odd sensation stirring within.
Cheng Lingyu stood not far away, visible yet emitting no fluctuations, as if he had transcended the cage of worldly matters.
“What are you thinking?”
Mu Hua stepped closer, tilting his head to study the familiar face.
Cheng Lingyu chuckled. “I was pondering how the layout of Western Fallen Nine Ridges in Lou Ri City isn’t ideal. The palaces feel disconnected, like there’s a gap between each one.”
Mu Hua blinked. “Why waste thoughts on such matters?”
Cheng Lingyu countered, “Have you never wondered why Lou Ri City ranks last among the Three Saints and Four Peerless?”
Mu Hua frowned. “Does that relate to Western Fallen Nine Ridges’ structure?”
“Lou Ri City isolates itself. With 108 palaces in Western Fallen Nine Ridges bound by strict hierarchies, doesn’t it feel overly rigid?”
Mu Hua argued, “Without rules, there’s no order. This system beats the Shanhua Alliance or Heavenly Fire Sect any day.”
Cheng Lingyu smiled and dropped the subject.
“I’ve spent months at Fallen God Ridge yet never truly explored it. Care to join me, Elder Brother Mu?”
“Gladly. I’ve needed fresh air myself.”
They left Liyun Palace’s domain, crossed the protective barrier, and entered Fallen God Ridge’s wilds.
Near the Fifth Palace of Fallen God, in the ridge’s upper-mid region, ancient giant trees stood like withered sentinels, their vitality long faded.
Mu Hua grimaced. “Strange. These trees feel… lifeless. Where’s their vigor?”
“This is twilight’s embrace. Let’s listen to their aging hearts—learn their regrets.”
Cheng Lingyu stepped forward, movements casual yet carrying hidden depth.
Mu Hua gaped. “Listen? You understand tree speech now?”
Entering the woods, Cheng Lingyu walked among ninth-level giant trees in their yellowing decline.
Dead leaves carpeted the ground. A gentle breeze stirred them into swirling dances around Cheng Lingyu, leaving Mu Hua astonished.
Where Cheng Lingyu walked, leaves spiraled joyfully as if greeting him.
Mu Hua trailed behind, attempting to mimic the leaf dance with his strength but failing to match its natural grace.
“How?” Mu Hua muttered, baffled. Their realms differed vastly—why could the junior achieve what he couldn’t?
Wind strengthened through the grove. Trees swayed, their rustling joining the leaf chorus.
Cheng Lingyu’s footsteps synchronized with the world’s rhythm. The entire forest pulsed with him—trunks bending, leaves whirling in rare harmony.
Millions of unique leaves swarmed around Cheng Lingyu, their distinct patterns imprinting on his vision. The data torrent could overwhelm most cultivators’ sea of consciousness.
Mu Hua moved to question him but recoiled from an unseen force.
“Cheng junior apprentice!”
No response came. Cheng Lingyu seemed entranced.
Resigned, Mu Hua shadowed him silently.
Cheng Lingyu’s steps grew weightless, rhythmic—as if treading through time itself. Leaves spun around him, their near-identical patterns revealing subtle differences to his keen gaze.
The spectacle triggered strange ripples in his mind. The technique of origins activated spontaneously. Each leaf became a memory—fragments of time, legends, and pasts merging into time’s river.
Cheng Lingyu’s mind accelerated, grasping the leaves’ silent beauty, their decay and renewal. He felt their entire existence—sprouting, thriving, yellowing, falling.
Time’s grandeur. Life’s fleeting glory.
Withered blossoms and leaves swirled on autumn’s breath, beautiful dreams reduced to fragments.
Sorrow tinged Cheng Lingyu’s aura. Amber light enveloped him as a faint figure materialized—a Withered Dream Butterfly, wings etched with primordial patterns glowing softly.
Mu Hua groaned. “Showing off, are you?” Having reached Soul Martial Fourth Realm himself, he paled in comparison.
Unaware, Cheng Lingyu deepened his trance. The butterfly behind him solidified as he deciphered the wing patterns’ secrets.
He wandered without pause. Though moving leisurely, every forest leaf rose to parade its veins before him.
From dawn till dusk this continued. As sunset painted the sky, Cheng Lingyu quickened his pace, exiting the woods with evening winds at his back.
Mu Hua followed, face cycling through emotions until he too tasted autumn’s bleakness.
Upon exiting, the Withered Dream Butterfly faded. Airborne leaves transformed into butterfly swarms, their dry wings whipping a devastating gale. The ancient forest disintegrated instantly—giant trees atomized, vanished.
Mu Hua stared, screaming.
Cheng Lingyu jolted awake. “What happened?”
“Look!” Mu Hua gestured weakly at the barren valley. “You obliterated the forest.”
Gazing at the desolation, Cheng Lingyu’s handsome features softened with contemplation.
“Fallen leaves, silent dreams of decay… Isn’t this the conclusion they desired most?”