From a loser to an immortal sage

Chapter 512 Summoning the Immortal Technique Manual

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the book "The Soul Locker," and the three words "Soul Guide" on the pages felt like red-hot iron, searing my palms with pain.

The eerie blue light of the World-Destroying Wheel still lingered before my eyes, when suddenly the little girl's words from last night echoed in my ears—"If the light is on, you can find your mother."

But my rabbit lamp went out, illuminating an even heavier burden.

"Ayao." Wen Chen's voice was like silk soaked in warm water, gently wrapping around my trembling shoulders.

His hand covered the back of my neck, his body heat rising through my veins, burning a crack in my muddled mind. "Don't rush to agree."

I looked up at him, and the morning light shone through the jade crown in his hair, gilding the corners of his eyes.

Those eyes, which used to always hold a smile, were now as deep and still as the waters of the abyss of souls. "The Wheel of Annihilation will awaken in seven days." His fingertips brushed against the jade pendant around my neck, an old item I'd worn since my transmigration, now warming slightly with my heartbeat. "The Soul Guide needs a celestial technique to suppress the tribulation fire within the Wheel. I know of a place where this technique is passed down..."

"I want to go." I was surprised when the words left my mouth.

But when this thought popped into my head, it felt like a fire was exploding in my chest—Night Shadow used his soul to shield us for three hundred years, can't I even wait seven days?

Wen Chen's Adam's apple bobbed, but he simply tucked a stray hair behind my ear. "Okay." His sleeve brushed against the back of my hand, carrying the scent of pine. "That ancient temple is deep within Cangwu Mountain. I went there once with my master."

We set off at 7:00 AM on the second day.

Wen Chen rode his frost-colored immortal sword, and I sat in front of him. I could hear his heartbeat coming through my back, each beat steadyer than any immortal technique.

The mountain wind, carrying the sound of pine trees, blew into my sleeves. As I looked at the surging sea of ​​clouds below, I suddenly remembered when I first crossed over, I squatted in front of a dilapidated temple, eating cold steamed buns, and felt that being able to eat my fill was the greatest blessing.

Who would have thought that one day I would be stepping on a sword to receive a karmic debt that could destroy the world?

"We've arrived." Wen Chen's voice rang in my ear.

I looked up and saw an ancient temple with green tiles floating in the mist. The vermilion gate had faded, but the two characters "Cangzhen" written in gold paint still shone warmly in the mist.

On either side of the gate stood a stone lion. The embroidered ball under the paw of the left lion had a crack, revealing the six-character mantra carved inside—which was remarkably similar to the pattern on my heart-protecting jade.

With a creak, the mountain gate opened by itself.

A young novice monk in a moon-white robe peeked out from behind the door, clasped his hands together, and said, "Immortal Wen, Abbess Huixin has been waiting for you."

The scent of sandalwood mingled with the aroma of old book pages inside the hall.

I stared at the old nun on the central prayer mat. Her white eyebrows drooped to her chin, and the sandalwood prayer beads in her hand spun very slowly, each bead polished to a glossy sheen.

Seeing us enter, she raised her eyes, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes holding a pool of autumn water: "Benefactor Xiao."

My throat tightened, and I was about to bow when she raised her hand to stop me: "No need for formalities." Her prayer beads suddenly stopped. "Do you know what this Cangzhen Temple houses?"

"A secret manual of immortal arts?" I thought of the legendary "land that cultivators dream of", but Wen Chen pinched my fingertips and I noticed that the four walls of the hall were completely empty - where there should have been bookshelves, there were only deep wooden marks.

"What is hidden is 'the desire that cannot be fulfilled'." Master Huixin's voice was like the sound of an ancient bell, its buzzing making my mind tremble. "Three hundred years ago, a mad cultivator came here, saying he wanted to find a celestial technique that could suppress the calamity fire."

He searched through all twelve scripture pavilions, and finally knelt before this Buddha statue, weeping for half the night. "She raised her hand and pointed to the Thousand-Hand Guanyin statue behind me, and only then did I realize that Guanyin's palm held a broken jade pendant, which fit perfectly with the heart-protecting jade pendant around my neck."

"Is that mad cultivator Night Shadow?" Wen Chen suddenly asked.

Master Huixin laughed, her white eyebrows trembling slightly: "Immortal Wen is indeed very knowledgeable." She turned to me, her gaze like a razor, cutting my skin painfully, "He left a message before he left: 'If a soul guide comes, let her see what it feels like to not be able to get what you want.'"

"Benefactor Xiao, the immortal techniques you seek are contained within these eighteen trials."

"A test?" I heard my voice tighten.

"First level, dispelling illusions." She flicked her fingers through the prayer beads, and the temple doors slammed shut. Black mist suddenly surged from behind the Guanyin statue, within which I could vaguely see my most terrifying scene—the World-Destroying Wheel crushing the nine heavens, Wen Chen lying at my feet, his white robes soaked in blood; Ye Ying standing in the mist, smiling at me, saying, "So you're just like them, unable to protect anyone"; and my pre-transmigration self, huddled in a corner of the dilapidated temple, shouting, "Come back! Don't concern yourself with this nonsense!"

I gripped Wen Chen's hand tightly; the warmth of his palm felt like a nail, pinning me to reality.

As the black mist dissipated, my forehead was covered in cold sweat. Master Huixin's prayer beads began to spin again: "Second level, severing emotions."

"Wait." Wen Chen suddenly stepped in front of me, his back straight as a sword. "She just found out she's a soul guide, and this test you're giving her..."

“Immortal Venerable Wen.” Master Huixin’s voice suddenly turned cold. “When Ye Ying came back then, she was in an even worse state than her.”

He was nearly killed by his inner demons and begged me for a quick death. I said, "A quick death is easy; the hard part is walking on while still in pain." She looked at me, her gaze softening. "Benefactor Xiao, what you need is not immortal techniques, but a Dao heart that can withstand them."

These eighteen trials, each one asking you—"

Are you ready?

I looked into the light in her eyes, a light that held the resentment of Night Shadow, the worry of Warm Dust, and the raging flames of tribulation churning at the bottom of the Soul Lock Abyss.

The heart-protecting jade felt warm against my chest, as if it were answering for me.

I sniffed and held back the tears that welled up in my eyes.

Wen Chen's hand was still in my palm, warm as a ball of fire.

I looked up and saw the jade pendant in the palm of the Guanyin statue emitting a faint light, echoing the heart-protecting jade pendant around my neck.

"I'm ready."

Master Huixin's prayer beads rested on her chest.

The Guanyin statue behind her suddenly moved, its thousand arms pointing simultaneously to the hidden door at the back of the hall.

The rustling sound of papers turning inside the door sounded like countless secret manuals calling out.

At this time-

No sooner had I finished speaking than a crisp sound of bluestone slabs being crushed came from outside the hall.

Wen Chen's fingers instantly gripped my wrist, pulling me aside. A flash of cold light grazed my ear and pierced the pillar—it was Su Yao's silver butterfly dart, its tail feathers still coated with her usual bone-corroding powder.

"Sister Xiao, you're quite capable." Su Yao's laughter, like honey laced with poison, drifted in from the palace gate.

She wore a moon-white silk dress, with a nine-phoenix gold hairpin in her hair, but the sinister look in her phoenix eyes was even more intense than back in Lingxu Valley. "Immortal Venerable Wen personally protected us to seize this opportunity, do you think we're all blind?"

That's when I noticed Ling Feng behind her.

His black cloak was damp with dew, and the jade tassel at his waist was still dripping blood, clearly indicating that he had just killed the mountain guardian beast blocking his way.

Seeing me look over, he tilted his head, a half-smile playing on his lips: "Miss Xiao, the legacy of Cangzhen Temple isn't your private property."

Wen Chen's back was taut like a string.

He released my hand, and as he turned, a gust of wind blew up his clothes, just in time to snatch away another dart from Su Yao: "How did you know about this place?"

“Of course, someone tipped me off.” Ling Feng flicked the bloodstains off his sleeve, his gaze sweeping over the jade pendant around my neck. “The mark Night Shadow left in the Soul-Locking Abyss back then wasn’t just etched on you.”

My heart sank.

So they had been tracking Nightshade's trail all along; no wonder they found this place.

Suddenly, Abbess Huixin's prayer beads snapped with a "crack"—she had crushed a single bead of sandalwood. "The old nun said that this Cangzhen Temple hides 'what cannot be desired'," her eyes beneath her white eyebrows shone with an astonishing light. "Those who seek immortality, those who seek opportunities, those who seek revenge..." She looked at Su Yao with the gaze of someone looking at a moth drawn to a flame, "Come on, all of you."

These eighteen trials are precisely to select the person most deserving of this inheritance.

Su Yao's fingernails dug into her palms, her knuckles turning white: "Master, you have some skill."

So all that fighting tooth and nail has turned out to be paving the way for Xiao Yao?

“Paving the way?” Abbess Huixin suddenly laughed. “When Ye Ying came back then, there were seven groups of people chasing after him, wanting to take his life.”

He knelt in this hall for three days and three nights, enduring ten waves of sneak attacks each night. She turned to me, her voice as soft as a sigh, "Benefactor Xiao, do you think 'unable to obtain' simply means being unable to obtain immortal arts?"

Even if you get what you ask for, it depends on whether you can protect it.

Wen Chen suddenly grasped my hand, the warmth of his palm seeping through my interlaced fingers.

I looked up and saw the dark undercurrent churning in his eyes, but it softened into a pool of spring water when our gazes met: "Ayao, I'm right outside." His thumb gently stroked the callus on my hand—a callus from years of sword practice. "No matter what happens inside, I'll get you."

"Immortal Venerable Wen." Elder Xuanfeng's voice came from outside the hall.

The white-bearded old man, who had guarded the ancient temple for three hundred years, stood with his hands behind his back, the bronze bell at his waist ringing softly with each step he took. "This is the place of trial; outsiders are not permitted to participate." He glanced at Ling Feng and Su Yao, "including competitors."

Ling Feng suddenly burst out laughing, and his black jade sword hummed as it was drawn three inches from its sheath: "Elder Xuanfeng, do you take us for puppets to be manipulated?"

"How dare you!" Mingyue emerged from the side of the hall.

Her plain-colored dress was damp with morning dew, yet the celadon teacup she held in her hand remained perfectly steady.

Seeing me look over, she winked at me and placed a teacup in my hand—it was my favorite bamboo dew tea, still warm. "Sister Xiao, back when you were pushed off a cliff in Lingxu Valley, you didn't cry, did you?" As she turned, a strand of her hair brushed against the back of my hand, and she said softly, "I'll guard the gate for Immortal Wen, don't worry."

I gripped the teacup tightly, the warmth spreading from my palm to my heart.

When Su Yao's silver butterfly dart flew over again, it was shattered into dust by Elder Xuanfeng's bronze bell. "If you want to compete, compete inside the Scripture Pavilion," he said, flicking his sleeve towards the hidden door at the back of the hall. "Whoever obtains the fragment of the *Burning Heaven Technique* first will be qualified to continue."

Ling Feng and Su Yao exchanged a glance and then walked towards the hidden door first.

As Su Yao passed by me, she deliberately used her gold hairpin to scratch my sleeve, and with a ripping sound, the fabric tore open.

I looked down and suddenly laughed—this fabric was woven for me by Wen Chen using ice silkworm silk, making it impervious to swords and spears. Her little tricks were all in vain.

“Benefactor Xiao.” Abbess Huixin placed her hand on my shoulder.

The temperature of her palm was different from Wen Chen's; it had a roughness like old tree bark. "Remember," she said, "what you need isn't to beat them, but to beat yourself."

I handed the teacup to Mingyue and straightened my sleeves, which had been ruffled by Su Yao.

The jade pendant felt warm against my neck, resonating with the jade plaque on the Guanyin statue, creating a subtle vibration.

On the bluestone slab in front of the hidden door, Ling Feng and Su Yao's shadows had already disappeared inside. Elder Xuan Feng's bronze bell was still ringing softly, once, twice, as if counting my heartbeats.

“Let’s go,” I said to Abbess Huixin.

She nodded and pushed open the hidden door.

Behind the door was a downward stone staircase, the bluestone slabs covered with a thin layer of moss, gleaming with a faint light.

As I walked down the steps, I heard Wen Chen's low voice behind me: "A-Yao—"

I turned around and saw him standing at the entrance of the palace. The morning light stretched his shadow long, almost touching the tips of my shoes.

He didn't say anything more, but just gave me a "steady" gesture—that was the agreement we made when we practiced swordsmanship in the mass grave, meaning "I'm here, don't be afraid."

As you walk deeper into the stone steps, the sandalwood scent is replaced by a damp, earthy smell.

Ling Feng and Su Yao's footsteps echoed ahead, and Su Yao's golden hairpin jingled as it struck the stone wall.

I touched the "Soul Lock Record" at my waist; the pages rustled as I turned them, as if saying, "It's almost here, almost here."

Finally, two vermilion doors appeared at the end of the stone steps.

The gold paint on the lintel has peeled off, but the two characters "藏经" (Zang Jing, meaning Buddhist scriptures) can still be discerned.

Ling Feng and Su Yao stood in front of the door. Su Yao was trying to pry open the door with a silver butterfly dart, while Ling Feng frowned as he studied the runes on the door knocker.

"Step back." Elder Xuanfeng's voice came from behind.

He raised his hand and placed it on the door knocker, and the bronze bell suddenly burst into a deafening ringing.

I instinctively covered my ears, but then I saw the runes on the door knocker suddenly light up, and red light crawled all over the door through the cracks, like a snake that had come to life.

"boom--"

The door opened.

A chilling, heavy aura wafted out, giving me goosebumps on the back of my neck.

The aroma was a mixture of the musty smell of thousand-year-old paper, the blood of rusty swords, and... a familiar burnt scent—the smell of calamity fire.

Ling Feng and Su Yao stopped in their tracks.

Su Yao's golden hairpin stopped ringing, and Ling Feng's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white.

I stared into the thick black fog inside the door, and heard my heart pounding like a drum.

The heart-protecting jade was so hot it almost burned my skin, yet I took a step forward—something in that black mist was calling to me, like the dying eyes of Night Shadow, like the warmth of Wen Chen's palm, like the extinguished rabbit lantern in the dilapidated temple when I traveled through time.

The doors of the library slowly opened, and a mysterious and powerful aura rushed out.