Chapter 770: Chang'an, the Falling Snow

Yu Lian continued, “He encountered something after arriving at the South Sea. No one knows the exact details, for the teacher found Pipi when he was but a child. And upon seeing the child, Teacher knew he would have a bright future.”

Ning Que was a little surprised and said, “Is that the Great Divine Priest of Light who went missing in the South Sea 600 years ago?”

Yu Lian said, “Yes, I’ve always thought he had gained a lot from this matter.”

Ning Que looked at the boulders in front of the south gate. He remained silent for some time. With a sense of restlessness, he asked, “With Senior Brother and Senior Sister on our side, how could we not defeat him?”

“Teacher once said this: Life is a cultivation.”

Yu Lian said, “Sometimes, cultivation has a direct correlation with years. He has lived longer than Senior Brother and I, so he’s more powerful than we are. Even though Senior Brother is more naturally gifted than most men, he’s too gentle. Even after learning how to fight, he would be no match for his adversary in the end.”

She made no mention of her own power, which is also a kind of acquiescence. Ning Que thought of a very troubling and critical problem: the Third Sister was still suffering from injuries, which may be very serious.

The West-Hill Divine Palace Hierarch is the most powerful powerhouse in the Five States. Despite being the most powerful and mysterious Twenty-Three-year Cicada Cultivation, it would take everything to completely defeat the man.

In this current situation, the only thing left in the mortal world that could defeat the Abbey Dean of Zhishou Abbey was the God-stunning Array.

Ning Que turned and headed for the gate to continue the trip.

As time went on, and because there were more Stone Array Tactics outside the south gate, the Qi of Heaven and Earth in Chang’an City was more and more stagnant, especially the dark line between life and death. It was completely blocked.

Ning Que walked on Vermilion Bird Avenue, walking between the blocked aura of Heaven and Earth.

Numerous refugees evacuated into Chang’an were arranged by the imperial court into the homes of the common people everywhere. There were few pedestrians on the long streets, and most shops and restaurants along the streets had been closed. This place hadn’t been bustling for a long time. The cold winter breeze blowing back and forth in the street was cold and lonely.

The Great Blockage Formation outside the south gate could play a very small role. Although it could hold back the Abbey Dean, it has been confirmed that it was impossible to break away the God-stunning Array in a short period of time. So where could he mobilize so much Qi of Heaven and Earth to repair this God-stunning Array?

This problem had been bothering him for a long time. He hadn’t rested for days, racking his brain. He occasionally had concrete ideas, but he couldn’t think of how to implement them.

“How can those imaginary auras become true, authentic power?”

Ning Que looked at the Vermilion Bird on the center of the street and asked.

The Vermilion Bird did not answer him because it didn’t know either.

Ning Que turned to continue walking, thinking about the Bun Shop he saw on the edge of Yanming Lake that morning, the hot fog on the green stone plate. When he thought about how he felt then, his mood became more and more depressed.

He understood what he needed to do, but he didn’t know how to do it.

He saw hope ahead, but was unsure of how to grasp it. Just like being able to see the other side of the lake, but not having the boat. His troubles became more and more serious.

He walked out of a quiet lane and suddenly heard the sound of someone reading behind the wall.

He didn’t know which tutor was teaching the law of the Tang Empire.

He heard the sound of young students with their childish voices reciting the complicated law of the Tang Empire. The voices weren’t in unison but the students were very focused and interested.

The country was on the verge of being torn apart and homes were about to be destroyed. Yet, there was still the sound of reading in the streets.

He could still hear the law of the Tang Empire.

This calm was very touching and even awe-inspiring.

Because there was a power in this kind of calm.

Ning Que stood outside the wall for a long time, quietly listening to the reading sounds inside.

This was the aura of the mortal world. How could this kind of power be materialized?

The Southern Gate Temple in front of the Imperial Palace was quite serene.

Due to the tampering of the Edict, along with the He Mingchi incident, the Tang Empire’s imperial court’s attitude toward the Southern Gate Temple changed greatly. Many people were hiding outside the Taoist temple.

Ning Que went up the steps and entered the Southern Gate Temple.

The Taoists in the Taoist temple couldn’t help but be stunned when they saw that it was him. They came forward to salute him.

He was the disciple of Master Yan Se. The Taoists at the Southern Gate Temple called him Senior Brother.

Ning Que waved his hand, telling people to leave him alone.

He walked into the secluded Taoist Temple alone and stood under the wall, watching the stories of the religious scriptures painted with oil and the legendary myths. He remained silent for a long time.

Religion was the best way to transform humankind’s aura into real, authentic power.

This is also called the power of faith.

Although the power of faith in Haotian Taoism was used to pray to Haotian and to connect Heaven and Earth with man and god, it was completely contrary to what he wanted to do now. Yet, he wanted to see if he could draw some inspiration.

Ning Que walked around Chang’an, just as he had done that summer at the beginning of his enlightenment.

So he once again came to Wanyan Tower and went to the top.

Standing by the small window at the top of the tower and looking at the quiet city of Chang’an, he asked, “Can people’s thoughts really become concrete strength? If so, what channels are needed?”

“Thought itself has no power. It may show some power once it is displayed, just like the imperial edict of His Majesty. But if it is only an idea in the mind, it has no effect. Only when he says it or writes it on paper will ideas be useful.”

Master Huang Yang walked beside him and looked at the last group of autumn geese flying south and said, “In regards to the channels you were asking about, if all methods are equal, language is one way. Literature can also have such an effect.”

Ning Que asked, “And what about faith?”

Master Huang Yang said, “Faith itself has no power and needs a specific direction. When countless people’s beliefs focus on that direction, power will be reflected in that direction.”

“The Buddha strictly rules the disciples not to set up idols because of this.”

Master Huang Yang looked at him and continued, “Your teacher Yan Se once said that everyone’s thought is actually a talisman, but it is too weak and subtle to be felt. When everyone writes a talisman at the same time, the symbol may appear and even become great.”

Ning Que understood these things.

It was really possible to find a way to summon the power of humanity that could compete with Heaven and Earth. If he could find that force, he could clear the blockage in the God-stunning Array.

He went to the south bank of Yanming Lake and sat in the dew-laden grass. After waiting for his heart to calm, he stretched out his fingers in the air and duplicated several inscriptions. He tried to find the word.

He had already entered the Knowing Destiny State. The things he wrote casually were talismans; every time he wrote a character, he wrote a talisman. The character he was looking for was actually a talisman.

The sun gradually moved westward. It dipped below the city wall, and the night came.

He sat by the lake and continued to write and search for talismans.

Hundreds of words.

Thousands of words.

Eventually, there was only one word left.

The word consisted of two straight lines.

This was the only Divine Talisman he could write: The Two-Horizontal Talisman.

He kept writing the Two-Horizontal Talisman until his eyes struggled to stay open, finally becoming numb.

He didn’t know how long he had been writing when he finally stopped.

He looked at the courtyard across the Yanming Lake in a daze.

Just then, a snowflake fell on him.

You are reading story Nightfall at novel35.com

He remembered the snow from that year.

He remembered the battle on the snow lake.

Sangsang stood in the storm and snow holding the Big Black Umbrella singing to the snow lake.

If Sangsang were still there, if the Big Black Umbrella were still there, if the iron arrows were still there, he was confident that even if he could not remove the blockage in Chang’an, he could kill the man with the help of the God-stunning Array.

But Sangsang had already died.

The courtyard across the lake hasn’t turned its light on for many days.

The people the imperial court sent to the Sishui River reported that the Big Black Horse and horse carriage had vanished.

He must find the word that can put the power of humanity into motion.

Snowflakes continued to fall.

Eyelashes fell.

His face was pale and his cheeks were flushed, making him look extremely unhealthy.

He looked calm, but deep down he was anxious and exhausted to the extreme.

He couldn’t find the word. He couldn’t write the talisman.

Master Yan Se spent his whole life looking for that talisman. If he couldn’t find it, how could Ning Que?

Ning Que sighed, white fog escaped from his mouth.

He raised his finger, and continued to write in search of the word.

He wrote in the white mist, in the falling snow, and on the gradual snowy ground.

His hands trembled. They became heavier and heavier.

The Two-Horizontal Talisman strokes became crooked at times.

It was snowning in Chang’an.

It was the first snowfall in the 18th year of the Tianqi era.

The night faded. The morning had arrived.

The streets and the rooftops were covered in snow. It was so clean.

The wind came from the north last night. The city was quiet.

The south wall was covered by a thin layer of snow, as there was no cold wind to blow it away.

It looked like a white curtain.

Suddenly.

A footprint appeared in the snow on the city wall.

The spot was several hundred feet above the ground. An eagle could build a nest here, but people could not reach it.

But there was one more footprint.

A split second later.

Thousands of feet away from the city wall, another footprint appeared.

Then another pair of footprints appeared.

These footprints belonged to two people.

The winter eagle was awakened by the footsteps on the city wall.

On high alert, it looked out in the distance.

It was clear that the footprints on the city wall belonged to the two men.

But the eagle looked out in the distance.

It saw the long city wall of Chang’an.

The footprints of the two men started appearing everywhere.

But it couldn’t see any people.

It could only see footprints.

It was as if immortals had come down to the mortal world and left their mark.

The footprints reached closer and closer to the south gate.

In the gently falling snow, black clothes appeared.

The Abbey Dean of Zhishou Abbey revealed himself outside the south gate.

He held a Taoist Sword behind him.

He hadn’t slept for seven days, travelling thousands of miles between the mountains and rivers. He was still clear-eyed.

A wooden rod suddenly appeared in the snow.

It was very short.

Very tough.

The wooden rod hit the Abbey Dean in the back of his head.

The Abbey Dean drew his sword.

The sword and the wooden rod clashed.

There was a loud boom.

The sound was like a loud melody.

The clock rang out.

Chang’an awakened.

The bells’ ringing shook the city.

No one knew if it was shaken by the bell,

by the impact of the wooden rod and the sword clanging together,

or by the person.

The snow that covered more than five kilometers of the Southern City wall fell down to the ground below.

The falling snow exposed the black color of the wall.

There was a lot of snow piled up at the bottom of the wall.

Like a curtain that had fallen, it was piled up in one place.