Overdraw the future and become a peerless martial god

Chapter 172 Returning, Still a Lone Wanderer

Night fell.

The snow continued to fall in the North, but it was no longer as sharp as a knife. The swirling white snow, like a thin layer of cotton, slowly covered the blood and bones of the battlefield, gently burying the flames of war that had just died down.

Silence reigns on the Great Wall.

The war drums stopped, and the horns fell silent.

Only the occasional low, muffled whistling of the wind swept by, causing a tattered military flag to flutter loudly at the edge of the battlements.

Soldiers moved silently among them, dragging broken armor and carrying familiar yet unfamiliar corpses. Some gritted their teeth to hold back their tears, while others hummed mournful military tunes passed down from who-knows-when.

The soul array was still in ruins. Several soul cultivators knelt by the array eye, redrawing the array patterns stroke by stroke. The blood was still wet, and the ink lines were stained red.

Their hands were trembling, but they didn't stop.

Below the wall, a row of body bags were half-buried in snow.

Those nameless soldiers, soul cultivators, and remnants of the Zhenwu Division who fought desperately to defend the formation tonight have now returned to silence.

Some lit soul lamps for them, some covered them with battle robes, and some simply stood quietly in place, speechless for a long time.

A young soul soldier knelt before the body bag, wiping away the bloodstains again and again.

His voice was terribly hoarse, yet he still murmured, "Third Brother...didn't you promise to treat me to drinks...?"

He took the wine flask from his waist, poured a sip of wine, and carefully poured it in front of the body bag.

The wine smelled faint, and the snow was very cold.

But he seemed to see that person smiling as he raised his cup.

That night, the Great Wall was as quiet as a burial ground.

At the very top of the city wall, the man who brought heavenly thunder, slew the lion king, and single-handedly suppressed the beast tide sat alone in the cold wind.

The thunderous aura had not yet dissipated, and the thunder patterns surrounding his body still seemed to bear the marks of Heavenly Punishment.

He didn't speak or move; he just closed his eyes, leaned against the wall, and let the wind and snow hit his face and hair.

It resembles a god statue, yet also an utterly exhausted mortal.

After three years of seclusion, he returned after a single battle.

But at this moment, he was not the Thunder Soul Ruler, nor a first-grade martial artist suppressing the soul tide.

It was Chu Ning.

As a younger brother, his older sister had not returned; as a lover, his former lover was not all gone; as an ordinary person, he was merely a survivor who had been pulled back from a sea of ​​blood.

Footsteps echoed through the snow.

Zhao Tianyu carried a pot of hot wine and slowly walked up, his steps very light, as if afraid of disturbing something.

He stood beside Chu Ning without saying a word, but silently sat down and handed her the wine pot.

Chu Ning took it, lifted the lid, and a faint aroma of bitter wine rose up along with the heat.

He took a sip, without coughing or frowning, only his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

“Today… is the Ghost Festival.” He suddenly spoke in a low voice.

Zhao Tianyu paused, remained silent for a long time, and then slowly nodded: "Yes."

Neither of them spoke again.

The wind blew across the beacon tower, causing the spirit lamps on the city wall to sway. The blue flames, like human eyes, seemed to reflect countless faces of the dead as they flickered.

"I remember in Qingyang County, every household sets up a spirit altar and releases river lanterns today." Chu Ning looked into the distance, his eyes seeming to see through three years.

"The ancestral hall is filled with incense, paper money is burned in front of the door, and thousands of paper lanterns float on the river at the end of the long street, like stars falling to the ground."

"Sometimes when the wind blows and the lights go out, the children have to jump into the river to retrieve them."

Zhao Tianyu chuckled: "I jumped like that when I was a kid, and I lost my footing and broke half my teeth."

"Did your mother beat you?" Chu Ning asked.

“My mother saw me carrying two broken lamps back home and cried,” Zhao Tianyu said bitterly. “She said they weren’t for us.”

"It's for those who can't come back."

Chu Ning didn't speak, but simply placed the wine pot at his feet.

He gazed at the blue lanterns swaying in the wind and whispered, "Are there enough lanterns for them this year?"

Zhao Tianyu also fell silent.

After a long silence, he whispered, "Not enough."

"Too many died in battle. We don't have enough soul lamps, enough mages, or enough soul-guiding bone stones... We don't even know their names."

“I had someone transcribe the list of people who lit lanterns on the city wall. There were eighty-seven ‘unnamed’ people and thirteen people whose names were left only.”

"They lost their soul imprints, their bodies were mutilated, and they didn't even know the way home."

Chu Ning closed his eyes, and the figures fighting to the death in the soul array seemed to reappear before him.

There were veterans over fifty years old who still held the line, young soul cultivators holding broken blades and biting the last piece of talisman bone, and nameless soldiers who fought side by side to the last moment, clutching each other's clothes tightly as they died.

“Do you know?” Zhao Tianyu said softly, “This morning, a soldier came to me and asked me… he said that the soul lamp of his deceased brother had not been lit, and whether he had been forgotten.”

“I told him that the soul lamp is not lit for people to see, but for the soul to depart.”

"But I know he was afraid... that his brother really wouldn't come back."

At this point, Zhao Tianyu's voice became hoarse.

"We defended the Great Wall, but we couldn't protect everyone."

Chu Ning listened quietly without responding.

He simply looked at the earliest lit soul lamp beside him; its flame had dimmed and seemed ready to go out at any moment.

He reached out and slowly pushed it toward the edge of the battlement.

The wind was strong, and the soul lamp swayed, but instead of going out, it stabilized.

Zhao Tianyu glanced at it and asked softly, "Who are you ordering for?"

Chu Ning didn't look at him, but said calmly:
"For them."

"Also for us."

Chu Ning silently looked at Xue, and after a long while, asked softly, "Is she alright?"

Zhao Tianyu paused for a moment, then realized what he meant and whispered, "You mean... Miss Ming Li?"

Chu Ning neither nodded nor denied it, but his eyes darkened slightly, as if he were looking into the distance.

Zhao Tianyu remained silent for a moment before slowly speaking: "She... originally wanted to come and find you."

"The year you went to the far north, she almost went mad. She used every connection she could to get to the far north city and to Cangque Mountain."

"pity--"

He gave a bitter smile: "Back then, Prince Duan accused the Marquis of 'releasing evil spirits without authorization,' saying that you were a remnant of the Blood Refining Hall... The Marquis was escorted to the capital and interrogated by the Imperial Clan Court. Miss Mingli has been running around for many years, visiting countless powerful families and noble clans in the capital one by one."

“I heard that she even…knelt for the Marquis all night, begging someone to intervene.”

Chu Ning tightened his grip slightly, causing a small amount of wine to spill from the flask, leaving a circular mark on the snow.

Zhao Tianyu sighed, "She's still in the capital, she hasn't returned. A while ago I asked someone to send her a letter, and she replied, saying, 'If he's still alive, don't let him return to the capital.'"

"She knows your personality. If you really go back, I'm afraid it will be another bloody storm."

"Well done, Prince Duan." His eyes remained calm, but his fingertips twitched slightly due to the tremors of the thunderous energy.

Zhao Tianyu glanced at him sideways, then suddenly said softly, "You've changed."

"I'm not referring to your cultivation level, nor to the Thunder Soul of the Heaven-Severing King," Zhao Tianyu continued. "After three years of slumber, what you've learned... isn't just becoming stronger, is it?"

Chu Ning slowly placed the wine jug back on the snow.

He gazed at the desolate wasteland where the beast tide had receded in the distance and said softly:

“I haven’t changed. The only thing that has changed is that I now have the power to resist.”

Zhao Tianyu was taken aback.

"I saw those soldiers holding their positions and not retreating, and I also saw some people holding onto the formation diagram to replenish their souls before they died."

“I heard the voice in their hearts—not for any destiny, nor for national policy or military merit.”

"I just want to protect my family and friends."

He paused, his gaze growing even more intense: "You are the reason I'm willing to take action."

Zhao Tianyu laughed, but there was a hint of desolation in his laughter: "You've become stronger, but unfortunately, those officials in the court haven't changed at all."

Chu Ning raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, burying the distant ruins in a white expanse.

Zhao Tianyu sighed: "Where do you plan to go next?"

Chu Ning said in a low voice, "Go to Yipin Pavilion, and while you're at it, make a trip to the capital of Daqian."

Zhao Tianyu was taken aback: "Chu Yun?"

Chu Ning nodded.

Zhao Tianyu's expression shifted slightly as he gazed at the deep darkness at the edge of the snowy night and said in a low voice:

"If you go to the capital, those old scores should probably be settled all at once."

Chu Ning responded softly.

Then, the two fell silent, leaving only a pot of wine, a patch of snow, and the lingering embers of war burning quietly in the wind.

Before dawn, the Great Wall was still not at peace.

The embers of the soul fire still surged endlessly around the core of the formation, and hoarse commands and echoes could be heard from time to time within the remaining formation.

Several guards and array masters stayed up all night, trying to stabilize the defensive core that had collapsed after the battle.

Inside the military camp beneath the city, a makeshift interrogation platform was quietly erected.

Several captured Blood Refining Hall warriors and beast controllers were bound and locked by the Zhenwu Division, kneeling on the Soul Platform. Their souls were suspended in mid-air by chains of light, like pale and fragile light bulbs, which could be crushed at any moment.

The flickering soul lamps illuminated the deep-seated fear in their eyes.

Chu Ning did not stand in the center of the interrogation table. He sat to the side, wearing a black robe, head down and silent, with only a cup of hot tea in his hand that was slightly warm.

Zhao Tianyu presided over the interrogation, his voice cold and hard, cutting through the morning mist like a blade.

"Who ordered you to launch this beast tide?"

“I urge you to tell the truth. With the Soul Lamp here, we can discern the truth from the falsehood with a single thought in your sea of ​​consciousness.”

A prisoner's shoulders trembled, his eyes bloodshot. He gritted his teeth and finally whispered:
“It’s…it’s the ‘Bone Curse’.”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly tensed.

Zhao Tianyu's eyes sharpened: "Are you sure?"

“He…he only appeared once.” The prisoner’s voice was barely a whisper. “After the Misty Forest, we received a new Soul Bone Incantation, it was his mark…we thought he was dead, but only he could write that incantation…”

Another soul slave murmured in a low, sobbing voice, "He's not dead... He's never been dead... Of the twelve evil spirits, he's the most elusive, he's alive..."

"Enough," the Zhenwu Division Chief said coldly. "You attempted to take advantage of the chaos to undermine the Great Wall. Now that you have been executed, there is no need to say more."

But Chu Ning suddenly raised his eyes and slowly said:
Did he visit Qingyang County three years ago?

The prisoner shuddered, as if realizing something, and his face turned pale.

“I don’t know… I really don’t know…” His voice trembled. “We marginal martial artists… but I’ve heard… I’ve heard that in the Qingzhou area, many people have had their souls drained for no reason…”

Zhao Tianyu frowned.

Chu Ning's eyes were as white as snow: "Is it related to his affair with Chu Yun?"

The prisoner lowered his head and remained silent, no longer daring to meet that gaze.

"Enough." A middle-aged deacon from the Zhenwu Division said in a deep voice, "The words of such a low-level martial artist are not reliable. The interrogation is over, and the result can be decided by the central government."

Zhao Tianyu suppressed his emotions and did not argue.

At that moment, Chu Ning's eyes flickered slightly, and a wisp of his soul quietly seeped into the depths of the captive's sea of ​​consciousness.

—A moment later, he lowered his eyes slightly.

That person was not lying.

Bone Curse did indeed go to Qingyang County.

That very night, the Benlei Martial Arts School was attacked, and afterwards, Sister disappeared.

After the interrogation, everyone dispersed, but Chu Ning did not go far. He sat alone under a broken stone pillar, silently watching a dilapidated military formation in the distance.

There, several veterans were cleaning up the remains.

They carefully picked up a broken shield, a tattered piece of armor, and a severed finger, wrapped them in coarse linen, and placed them in individual spirit boxes.

"Be gentle, that's Lao Guo's sword. He protected me for a while before... I promised him I'd bring it home for him..."

The veteran's voice was low and hoarse, like the only remaining cry in a thousand miles of wind and snow.

In a more distant corner, an old general clad in tattered armor sat before a corpse, holding a jug of cold wine, the spout of which was dry.

His eyes were red and swollen, as if he had been crying for a long time, or as if he hadn't cried enough.

He murmured someone's name over and over again, pouring wine into his cup again and again.

"Didn't you say... we'd go back to our hometown together after I recovered... You bastard, you broke your promise..."

He took a sip of wine, a sip of snow, and finally embraced the corpse, bursting into tears.

Chu Ning stood up quietly, without disturbing anyone.

Just then, a young boy ran over.

It was the young guard who had saluted him after the battle last night, his face still covered in blood, and he was clutching a piece of paper tightly in his hand.

He looked to be sixteen or seventeen years old, wearing the standard short armor of the Zhenwu Camp, with bloodstains and snow stains on his face that he couldn't wipe off, and his eyes were red, as if he hadn't slept all night.

He rushed to Chu Ning, suddenly knelt on one knee, and kowtowed loudly, clutching a blood-stained piece of paper tightly in his hand.

"My lord!" His voice was hoarse, "I...I'm willing to go with you!"

Chu Ning glanced down at him, her expression unchanged.

"what's your name?"

The boy was taken aback for a moment, then straightened his back and said firmly, "Li Ye! Guard of the third squad, seventh rank, Zhenwu Battalion!"

"How old?"

"sixteen."

"Do you still have a home?"

These words were like a fine needle, piercing into his firm tone.

Li Ye's eyes flickered, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and he said in a low voice, "My mother is still in Qingzhou... but I can't send letters back."

Chu Ningjing quietly took the paper from his hand.

It was a blood-written letter requesting to fight, its edges tattered and the handwriting crooked, yet each stroke was written with utmost care.

"Li Ye, I swear this blood oath to follow General Chu from this day forward, and I will never regret it even if I die."

Chu Ning stared at the paper for a moment, then gently traced the dried bloodstains with her fingers, remaining silent.

After a moment, he slowly folded the blood-written letter and gently placed it back into the boy's hand.

"These are not things I accepted."

Li Ye was stunned, his eyes filled with surprise and urgency.

“My lord…” He looked up, his eyes filled with a stubborn sincerity as he gazed at Chu Ning, “I… am not here for fame or fortune. I know I am not a military talent, nor am I a disciple of any particular school or sect, but I want to follow you!”

“After you came back, I realized that ‘guarding’ can be like that.”

"I want to do that too... even if it means dying, it would be worth it."

Chu Ning showed no anger; his face remained perfectly calm.

He took a step forward, bent down slightly, and placed his hand on Li Ye's shoulder.

It was a very quiet hand, carrying the chill of newly melted mountain snow, yet also as heavy as a thousand pounds.

"You shouldn't have pursued me."

"You should live."

Li Ye gritted his teeth, his voice trembling with tears: "But I want to protect this place!"

"When you blocked the Soul Prison Lion King, I was hiding behind the city wall. At that moment, I suddenly felt that even if I couldn't even guard a single key point of the formation... I couldn't let someone else die for me!"

"I'm not afraid of death, I'm really not afraid!"

Chu Ning did not respond immediately.

He simply looked at the boy in front of him.

He saw the blood and bones hidden in the tattered armor, and he also saw a pair of stubborn, red eyes—unwilling to admit defeat, unafraid of death, yet not yet truly understanding the meaning of "living".

After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice still calm: "But your mother is still waiting for you in Qingzhou."

"You can afford to die, but what about her?"

These words were like an icicle piercing the boy's heart.

Li Ye lowered his head sharply, his eyes burning, tears mixed with dust dripping onto the snow, leaving dark marks.

"Whatever you want to protect, the Great Wall, the Northern Border, or anything you believe in, you can protect it all," Chu Ning continued.

"But it's not about shedding blood to hold onto all of this."

"It's either you die, or you defend."

"If you're alive, I can protect you."

The boy's shoulders trembled, but he still did not raise his head.

Chu Ning slowly squatted down, looking him in the eye:

Do you know why I left three years ago?

Li Ye looked up, hesitated, and shook his head.

Chu Ning looked at him and slowly said:
"Because at that time, I was so eager to prove myself with my life."

"And the result? He put himself in a deadly situation and dragged others down with him."

"I came back not because I'm not afraid of death."

"It's because I've learned what true 'immortality' really means."

"That's right, even if you've died once, you have to grit your teeth and come back, for the sake of those who survive."

Li Ye was stunned.

Chu Ning slowly took out a bluish-gray jade slip from his waist, flicked it with his thumb, and the jade slip flew in front of the young man and slowly landed.

"This technique is called 'Sky-Splitting Soaring Shadow Technique,' a mid-level Xuan-rank technique that emphasizes speed, evasion, and movement."

"I used it to survive at Eagle's Beak Cliff and to pull through many disadvantageous situations."

"I'm giving it to you not so you can risk your life."

"I hope you can make it back to Qingzhou alive."

"Even if it's just to send a letter back home, to let your mother know—you're still alive."

The boy stared blankly at the jade slip, and when he reached out to pick it up, his whole body trembled.

He wanted to speak, but his throat tightened.

Chu Ning stood up, patted his shoulder, and said in a gentler tone, "I will not accept you as my disciple."

"But if one day you can really learn this movement technique and come back alive from the battlefield... I will acknowledge you."

Li Ye suddenly looked up, his eyes burning with renewed fervor.

"Remember, you're not trying to pursue me."

"You are pursuing yourself."

"Leave your life where you should live the most."

After Chu Ning finished speaking, he turned and left, his steps as steady as a rock.

Li Ye knelt on the spot, holding the jade slip, and remained silent for a long time.

Until the wind blew up the neatly folded blood-stained letter, which tumbled across the snow and landed in front of him.

He picked up the paper again, tucked it into his robes along with the jade slip, and whispered:
"I...I will definitely make it back alive."

He didn't shout, nor did he kowtow again.

Because he knew that the figure in that silhouette had remembered him.

And because, from this moment on...

He finally understood the meaning of "living".

That afternoon, the Zhenwu Division and the Great Wall General held a meeting at the Zhenwu Hall.

The issues are numerous and the disputes are endless.

Some advocated immediately submitting a memorial to the Emperor Qianlong, requesting that Chu Ning be reinstated on the grounds that "he turned the tide," and that he be honored as the "Soul of the Northern Frontier" and that a stone tablet be erected on the Great Wall.

Some disagreed, saying sharply: "Although Chu Ning has made contributions, he has been removed from the official register for three years and is still a target of the imperial court's pursuit."

"Furthermore, his cultivation level is strange, and the soul technique he uses carries the characteristics of foreign lightning sources. The imperial court should first assess whether there is any risk of mutation."

Zhao Tianyu's face was ashen: "He single-handedly stopped the Soul Prison Lion King and killed two kings in succession. Do you all still have the face to argue about his merits and demerits?"

An elder from the Zhenwu Division sneered: "That's precisely why we must be cautious. One person's strength can shake the northern frontier and also intimidate the imperial court."

The Zhenwu Hall was filled with whispers, and the discussion had taken a turn for the worse, but Chu Ning did not participate in it.

He stood on the long steps outside the hall, gazing at the snowy border, his soul stirring slightly.

The Bone Curse has not yet appeared, and my elder sister has not returned; it is not advisable to alert the enemy now.

His vow has not yet been fulfilled.

He turned and left the council chamber without looking back, leaving only one sentence that lingered in the snow for a long time:

"I am not here to be reinstated."

"I'm just fulfilling a promise I made three years ago."

"That's all."

Night fell again.

The wind and snow seemed to have finally given up, and the sky above the Great Wall was unusually quiet. On the top of the dilapidated beacon tower, a soul lamp hung, its pale blue light swaying gently, like the heartbeat of a person in a dream.

Chu Ning sat cross-legged on the roof of the old town's military camp, with the lingering breath of soul reincarnation behind him.

His black robe swayed gently in the cold wind, and the tips of his hair were whitened by frost, but he seemed unaware of it.

His eyes were closed, and his soul wheel sank into his body, like a silent star, slowly rotating.

But in that moment of tranquility, a faint tremor suddenly came from the depths of the stars.

So faint as to be almost imperceptible.

But his heart suddenly trembled.

That was neither a crisis nor hostility.

Yes... some kind of soul-linking thread was gently tugged.

Like a blue flame leaping gently in the wind on a distant snowfield.

Chu Ning opened his eyes, and the snow light reflected the golden patterns and lightning marks in his eyes, which then gradually faded away, turning into the most ordinary deep black.

He gazed silently at the deep night sky beyond the northern border, slowly extending his hand and lightly touching the air with his fingertips, as if plucking some invisible string.

A wisp of soul consciousness, following a distant covenant mark, spread out like ripples on a water vein. It traversed thousands of miles of wind and snow, crossed the Well of the Coffin, and reached the depths of that fox realm.

"...She's here." His heart was suddenly touched by a long-lost warmth.

That's not Qing Li.

It's Dong'er.

Ice Soul has not yet awakened, but as the guardian of Qing Li's remnant soul, Dong'er and Ice Soul have already formed a shallow soul contract. Now, with Ice Soul's slight movement, Dong'er's consciousness resonates faintly within Chu Ning's soul wheel.

No sound.

No words.

But Chu Ning heard it.

A scene appeared in the sea of ​​souls.

The night snow fell like gauze, deep within the fox realm.

On the divine platform formed from millennia-old black ice, Ice Soul lay serenely at the center of the formation, while the Azure Flame of the New Moon flickered faintly within its crystalline shell. Dong'er sat cross-legged to one side, her hands folded on her knees, her aura as faint as snow.

Her face was paler than before, and a faint blue line between her eyebrows was a trace of the cold poison that had seeped into her bones.

But she remained calm, even with a faint smile on her lips.

She gently raised her head, as if sensing that spiritual intent, gazing in a direction countless miles away.

Then, she whispered in her soul:
"she's fine."

"Are you... alright too?"

Just from those words, Chu Ning suddenly felt as if something had gently bumped into his chest.

He did not answer, nor could he give an answer.

He simply stared at the silhouette in his soul, guarding a remnant soul in the icy plains, sitting quietly in the lonely snow, from dawn to dusk, and from dusk to the dead of night.

For a moment, he couldn't say anything.

At that moment, the snow on the Great Wall seemed to have stopped.

He slowly rose and walked towards a broken platform at the western end of the camp, which had once been the lightning detonation point of Zhenwu Platform, but had now been destroyed by the flames of war.

He raised his finger and gently drew a mark in the air.

It is not magic.

It's not a soul technique either.

Only a wisp of his soul condensed into the character "归" (return), embedding itself in the ice and snow.

The character “归” has no sharp edge, yet it is profound.

This single character, following the seal of the soul contract, slowly drifted into the sky.

Dong'er, deep within the Fox Realm, suddenly paused slightly.

She looked down and saw a very thin lightning mark on her palm, winding like an embroidery thread, eventually disappearing into the ice.

She wasn't surprised.

She just chuckled softly and said in a low voice:
"I know you can't speak."

"But it's good that you still remember."

The snow has started falling again.

Chu Ning stood atop the Great Wall, watching the character "归" (return) slowly disappear into the snow, remaining motionless for a long time.

The wind whispered through the ruins, passing by his ear like a soft laugh from someone on a distant mountain, or like another person murmuring softly in the icy moonlight.

The Soul Wheel trembled slightly, and Qing Li's soul energy surged extremely weakly.

It is a response.

Chu Ning closed his eyes.

He knew that although Qingli was still asleep, she was recovering; and although Dong'er was alone in the snow and cold, she was unwavering.

They are all still here.

Therefore, he must always be on the road.

It's not for anyone else that I'm dying, but for that unfinished journey home.

With a slight thought, lightning flashed in his soul sea, and the phantom of the Broken Snow Blade appeared in its outline before gradually sinking into the depths of his soul wheel.

It's not a summons.

It's just... a revisiting of an existence.

He whispered, "Wait for me."

The sound was so soft it seemed to fall only on the wind and snow, yet it traveled far like the tolling of a bell, passing through the northern border, through the fox realm, and sinking into the place where everything returns.

That night, the spirit lanterns on the Great Wall remained as before.

A wisp of pale blue soul flame drifted from afar, intersected with the soul lamp on the city wall for a moment, and then quietly dissipated into the night.

Zhao Tianyu looked up from inside the military tent and suddenly chuckled softly, "Who is he talking to this time?"

But he didn't ask.

Because he knew that wasn't something he could ask.

That was a certain attachment that a person still held onto amidst the flames of war and after death.

A thought that is not spoken aloud.

And in the far-off Fox Domain Abyss.

Within the icy crystal shell, a blurry figure moved slightly in the blue light.

That was Qingli's soul, gently responding in the new moon.

She seemed to have heard something.

Or perhaps it was just a dream.

In my dream, that person said:
"wait for me."

He sat cross-legged, his spirit contained, like a solitary monument on a solemn icy plain.

Just then, a burst of intense heat suddenly emanated from within her arms.

He twitched his brow slightly, slowly reached out, and took out a token from the inner robe on his chest.

Four ancient characters are engraved on the front:

—The Primordial Divine Decree.

The existence of this divine decree was known only to him and the "Primordial Master".

Even the Devouring Abyss had never detected its existence in its sea of ​​consciousness.

It seemed to have no connection with Chu Ning's aura, as silent as stone and as ordinary as dust.

But at this moment, it felt slightly warm, like a drop of hot blood boiling in an icy sea.

He knew why.

The last time he used the cultivation technique "Thunder Armor - Divine Forging Technique" in advance, it helped him break through to the seventh rank when his cultivation stagnated. That time, he used the price of "advance use" to force a breakthrough, and as a result, his lifespan was drastically reduced.

Now, he has single-handedly suppressed the Soul Prison Lion King, broken the beast tide, and defended the Great Wall, thus repaying his previous "debt".

The divine decree, realizing that the merits had been returned, automatically lifted the seal, allowing him to begin the next advance payment.

With just one more thought, he could draw out a heaven-defying technique from the divine decree, just as he always had, to forcibly raise his cultivation level by one level or control an ultimate Dao technique.

In the past, Chu Ning almost never hesitated when faced with such an opportunity.

Because he knew all too well that he had no background, no sect, no lineage to help him, and was all alone, constantly fighting his way forward in the enemy's world.

The Divine Decree was his sharpest "lone sword".

But this time, he didn't move.

His fingers merely brushed lightly across the divine command, without infusing it with his thoughts or activating any divine power.

Instead, he slowly put it back into his arms.

The wind lifted a corner of his black robe, revealing the remnants of the soul pattern on his waist. These were the wounds that had accumulated after three years of cultivation, and also the price he had paid.

He looked down at the distant snowfield, the first battle he had won in three years without divine command, relying solely on his own strength.

"...It's no longer needed."

He murmured to himself.

His cultivation level has reached the pinnacle of a first-grade martial artist.

He is no longer the abandoned disciple who would burn his lifespan and soul to protect himself. Now, he has the strength to calmly deal with desperate situations, without relying on advances or gambling with his life.

Moreover, the price of this divine decree is becoming increasingly heavy.

Now, he only has seven years left to live.

If he were to receive another advance payment, he would likely die on the spot.

"What exactly is the Primordial Divine Decree...?"

Chu Ning appeared calm, but her heart was as turbulent as it had been on that snowy night three years ago.

You can draw on the power you need in advance.

But you will eventually pay a price equal to your "fate".

Is this an equivalent exchange?

Is it a Heavenly Contract?
Or is there another deeper meaning?

He had pondered countless times during his seclusion: Where did this divine decree come from? Why was he chosen? Why not someone with greater talent?
He couldn't find the answer, and he was unwilling to gamble anymore.

He has now reached a crossroads where he can no longer survive without it.

He raised his head and looked up at the deep night sky, his mind as clear as falling snow.

The divine command slowly cooled down in his arms and fell silent again, as if it had never moved.

Only Chu Ning knew the decision he made just now.

It's not about rejecting power, but rather, for the first time, choosing to trust oneself.

The wind and snow rose again, but he sat still as a mountain, never looking back.

Two days later, the snow had not melted, but the sky had cleared.

On the Great Wall, the wounded soldiers had recovered somewhat, and the army formation was restored.

The incomplete soul runes have been temporarily covered by the new array, and the Soul-Suppressing Stone has rekindled its faint light in the snow, stretching for thousands of feet like a beacon.

But the North did not find true peace.

Because today, an "imperial envoy" from the imperial court has arrived.

Zhao Jin, a close advisor to the emperor, was a fifth-rank official who held three important positions: inspecting the northern border, conducting political reviews, and exercising military power.

Inspector Leng Yan, a sixth-rank martial artist, was known as the "cold-faced executioner," and anyone who entered his court faced a near-certain death.

The two arrived together on the Dynasty Flying Feather Boat, and went straight to the Zhenwu Hall without entering the military camp.

Their arrival shook the entire northern front.

The military governors of the three prefectures, the commanders of the Zhenwu General Office, the chief generals, and the border officials were all present.

Zhao Tianyu wanted to avoid it, but was stopped by the deputy commander of the Zhenwu Division: "Since you are the one who is in charge of the war, you cannot avoid it."

Chu Ning still hadn't arrived.

Only after the Zhenwu Hall bell rang three times did a dark figure slowly step in through the post-snow sunlight.

He wore no armor or seal, only a black robe, and walked with composure. There was no sword at his waist, and his divine sense was not visible; he looked like an ordinary pedestrian.

But the moment he stepped in, everyone in the hall changed color.

Zhao Jin looked at him, his expression unchanged, only smiling slightly:
"Is this... the person who slew the Lion King and broke the beast tide at the Great Wall three days ago?"

Chu Ning stood still, without answering.

Leng Yan's eyes flickered, and he replied calmly, "I can't tell your cultivation level, but you must have entered the Saint Realm. Even without leaking true energy, there are already lightning marks in the hall."

He spoke softly, but he was clearly reminding everyone present that he was an uncontrollable thunderbolt.

Zhao Tianyu stepped forward: "He saved my northern border and defeated the Lion King under the city walls; that is the achievement of turning the tide of the battle."

Zhao Jin smiled and said, "General Zhao is absolutely right. It is precisely because of his great achievements that I have come here on imperial orders."

"By imperial decree, Chu Ning is granted the title of 'Marquis Protector of the Frontier,' equivalent to the third rank, and is given the seal of the Northern Capital Garrison, to assist in the administration of the northern border defense."

"Please accept the decree."

These words shocked everyone.

The three ranks of nobility, combined with military and political power, were practically equivalent to "separatist rule" in the frontier regions.

Moreover, this is "Chu Ning," a "discarded disciple" who was expelled three years ago, and now he has suddenly been granted a marquisate, with the fiefdom being the northern border where he almost lost his life three years ago.

Zhao Tianyu was secretly alarmed: "Is this... a trap, or a push into a whirlpool?"

Chu Ning remained unmoved.

He simply asked, "Where is the imperial decree?"

Zhao Jin paused, then took out a scroll sealed with gold thread from his sleeve, held it high in his hand, and read it aloud.

The imperial edict was written in a standard and conventional manner, without any praise or lavish commendation. Instead, it emphasized that "the strange phenomena of the thunder source within his body are not yet clear," and that "he is hereby granted an official position, to be determined after further observation."

After hearing this, Chu Ning raised an eyebrow and a faint chill appeared in his eyes.

This is hardly a reward; it's clearly "placement" plus "control."

Leng Yan stood up, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the hall before finally settling on Chu Ning. He smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes.

"Chu Ning, you have done a great job in slaying the Lion King and suppressing the Soul Tide at the border."

"The court's move to appoint you as the Marquis of Protectorate, grant you land, seal, and authority can be described as showing leniency, rewarding merit and pardoning fault, so why worry?"

He paused, his tone suddenly shifting, his gaze sharpening:

“Moreover—” Leng Yan said, “the Imperial Guards also intend to invite you to join them.”

These words caused a slight tremor in the hall.

Some of the Zhenwu Division generals' expressions changed, and they whispered among themselves; some high-ranking martial artists frowned slightly, and a look of vigilance flashed in their eyes.

The Imperial Guards—those were the emperor's personal guards.

Only martial artists of the fifth rank or above are allowed to join. They are known as one of the "Three Guardians of the Forbidden Heaven," the sharpest blade of imperial power.

This is not a simple attempt to win over Chu Ning; it's a direct attempt to bring Chu Ning under the Emperor's control.

It is in the name of honor that it actually carries out control.

The atmosphere in the hall immediately tensed up. Even Zhao Jin frowned slightly at this moment, glancing at Leng Yan imperceptibly with a hint of displeasure in his eyes.

He disliked Leng Yan overstepping his authority and interrupting, and he disliked the Imperial Guards interfering even more—this should have been a game between government affairs and sects, but once the Imperial Guards got involved, it wasn't about rewards anymore, but about asserting sovereignty.

Chu Ning remained silent.

He simply looked down, as if looking at his own palm.

His palm was empty, except for faint lightning patterns, as black as ink and as white as snow, settling deep within his bones and blood, as if reminding him:
Who are you? What made you get here?

The silence lasted for half a breath, and everyone waited for his response.

Finally, Chu Ning raised her head.

He didn't speak first, but slowly stood up and patted the snow dust that had fallen on his sleeve.

In that instant, even though there was no wind, his movements seemed to dispel the oppressive atmosphere in the room.

"Are you done?"

His tone was not heavy, but every word was clear, falling into everyone's ears like the sudden sound of a bell.

Zhao Jin coughed, trying to get back to the main storyline:
"Chu Ning, if you wish to be granted the title of Protector of the Frontier, you will have the authority to mobilize troops in the three northern prefectures. The investiture ceremony is ready, and you will be granted the seal and order upon your return to the capital."

Several people in the hall echoed in unison, and even the representative of the Soul Sect nodded slightly, which was considered as tacit approval of the court's arrangement.

But Chu Ning's eyes did not move; he simply spoke slowly:
"I don't want to."

In short, it's a simple, understated statement.

It was like a thunderbolt thrown into this solemn hall.

Some people gasped, some looked uneasy, and Zhao Jin's smile remained, but it had clearly frozen.

When Chu Ning said "I don't want to," Zhao Tianyu's heart couldn't help but tremble.

He stood on the left side of the hall. Although he was not in the main seat, he was able to participate in the whole event because of his special status.

The imperial envoy, the supervisor of the Imperial Clan Court, and the generals of the various armies were all present, but he was the only one who came to listen to the discussion of the conferment of titles and rewards as a "friend".

Chu Ning refused the three "favors" offered: the summons from the Imperial Guard, the title of Protector of the Frontier, and the offer to return to the court.

To Zhao Tianyu, none of this was surprising.

But a complex and almost indescribable turmoil still stirred within him.

He looked at Chu Ning, that figure that was all too familiar to him.

Three years ago, they fought side by side, swords in hand, guarding the battlefield. Back then, Chu Ning was still sharp and unyielding, a man of few words yet stubborn. He never argued, nor did he ever submit. They all thought that sooner or later he would either die on the battlefield or unleash a devastating attack.

Three years later, he returned and single-handedly beheaded the king, shocking the court and the public.

Zhao Tianyu had seen too many people rise to high positions because of their merits, only to fall because of their power.

But Chu Ning, under the watchful eyes of everyone and with the imperial edict before him, said without hesitation, "I am unwilling."

Zhao Tianyu was momentarily dazed.

The first thing that arose in his heart was respect.

It wasn't because Chu Ning did the "right" thing, but because he did something that Chu Ning himself "couldn't do."

He could not refuse the imperial edict, could not ignore the Imperial Guard's transfer order, and could not disregard a third-rank position. Because he still had family, military status, career prospects, reputation, and his entire life "living under the rules of the empire."

But Chu Ning did not.

So he gained his freedom.

Therefore, it has become even more out of reach.

Zhao Tianyu's hands were clasped behind his back, and he had tightened them slightly without anyone noticing. He didn't interrupt Chu Ning's speech, nor did he show any emotion at that moment; he simply watched him quietly.

His eyes darkened.

It is both respect and concern.

It was admiration, but also a subtle unease.

He understood Chu Ning's choice, but he also knew that when you stand outside all the rules, you are destined to be seen as a dangerous factor by the "guardians of the rules".

Zhao Tianyu responded silently in his heart:

"They won't let an uncontrolled martial artist get away."

Leng Yan frowned deeply: "You refuse the imperial decree?"

Chu Ning turned to look at him, her eyes calm: "I neither knelt nor accepted it."

It wouldn't be considered a rejection.

Zhao Jin finally dropped his fake smile, his tone slightly somber: "Do you know that this decree is not only for reward, but also to clear your name of the case from three years ago?"

"The matter of Xie Chengjun remains unresolved in the Imperial Clan Court. If you return to the capital and confront the Emperor, you can clear your name and have the truth revealed."

"If you don't reply, if you don't accept the imperial decree... people will only say that you have something to hide."

Chu Ning slowly took a step forward and looked directly into Zhao Jin's eyes.

"Go back to Beijing to explain?"

He repeated it softly, his voice slightly hoarse, yet chillingly cold.

"That's your procedure."

"This is not my path."

A cold glint flashed in Zhao Jin's eyes, and he asked in a deep voice, "Then what brought you to the Great Wall? Not for rewards, not for explanations, could it just be to 'rescue people'?"

Chu Ning suddenly laughed, but the laugh was devoid of any warmth.

"You ask me why I've come?"

His tone was light, but his steps did not stop. He walked step by step to the center of the hall. When he was surrounded by people, he was as calm as a thunderbolt.

"I am not here to be granted a title."

"I'm not here to claim credit."

"I'm not here to bow down to anyone or to prove my innocence."

"I came to the Great Wall to fulfill a promise."

He turned to look at Zhao Tianyu.

Zhao Tianyu looked at him, nodded slightly, as if reaffirming that vow in his heart:

"I told Mingli that I would come back in three years."

Chu Ning withdrew his gaze and looked at the high-ranking officials and patriarchs.

“You said you wanted me to join the Imperial Guard.”

"They want me to return to my clan and serve in the court, and to be granted a title and ennobled."

"But have you ever considered that the person you want to 'accept' is no longer the one you once drove out?"

"I am not one of your soldiers."

"I won't be your knife either."

"Do you think I need you to define who I am, what rank I am, or what title I am?"

As he said this, his eyes suddenly turned cold.

Whether I was worth it or not, that battle on the Great Wall already made it clear.

"Whether I should live or not, you wouldn't give me that three years ago, but now I'm giving it to myself."

The entire hall was silent.

Zhao Jin's fingers tightened their grip, and Leng Yan's lips twitched, but he had nothing to say in response.

Because they finally realized that the man standing in the center of the hall was not a pawn that could be "taken back".

He is a sword that has walked out of its own path, a soul that has broken free of its chains from the brink of death.

They can threaten his lifespan, bring up old cases, and throw away his high position, but nothing can make him bow his head.

He is not a person who defies fate.

He doesn't believe in fate.

A lieutenant in the hall murmured, "He...really refused..."

Chu Ning gave them one last look, her tone low and resolute:
"I just want to do what I'm supposed to do."

Having said that, he turned around, put his hands behind his back, and walked out. The snow shone on his black robe, making him look like an unyielding sword.

At that moment, no one in the hall dared to stop them.

His refusal was not arrogance, but clear-headedness.

His silence was not weakness, but disdain.

He was not a marquis appointed by you.

He is the soul you have lost.

Chu Ning looked back at him and said softly:
"Go back and tell Prince Duan that he'd better not lay a finger on Xie Chengjun and his daughter Xie Mingli. Otherwise—"

(End of this chapter)