Chapter Seven: The Sword Rises Over the Eastern Sea, Piercing the Mortal World

Under the perception of my Golden Core divine sense, the scene within her body was laid bare before me. The vast, oceanic energy of the immortal pill had been transformed into the purest origin of the soul, enveloping and nourishing her tender spirit like a gentle sun. The force was so immense that her physical body had fallen into a deep slumber, accommodating this protracted metamorphosis.

I understood then—this was not a curse, but a miraculous fortune spanning the ages, one I could never have imagined before.

With the meticulousness of a masterful embroiderer, I guided my Golden Core spiritual power, weaving the finest threads to comb through and direct her transformation. Bit by bit, I peeled away the immense soul energy from the cocoon of light and carefully channeled it through her meridians, reintegrating it into her flesh and bones, reestablishing that long-severed connection between soul and body.

This process was ten thousand times more nerve-wracking than my own breakthrough to the Golden Core realm. Beads of sweat gathered on my brow; I dared not relax for even a moment, terrified that the slightest mistake might disrupt the transformation and bring her harm.

Time seemed to stand still. In the side hall, only my steady heartbeat and the tense, suppressed breaths of Little White, the three-tailed spirit fox, could be heard.

I do not know how long passed—perhaps an hour, perhaps decades. At the instant when I perfectly merged the final wisp of soul origin with her heart meridian, I could distinctly feel her body, dormant for untold years, awaken like a volcano long frozen, life bursting forth within her.

The girl, who had slept for so very long, finally fluttered her long lashes like butterfly wings in the wind.

My heart gave a violent leap, almost bursting from my chest.

“Yiyi?” My voice trembled as I called her softly, afraid even the slightest sound might shatter this dreamlike moment.

Her small lips parted as if to speak, but only a sleepy, unconscious murmur emerged. Then, her eyes, closed for so long, slowly and laboriously cracked open.

At first, her gaze was bewildered and vacant, as if looking through me into some distant void. But soon, that confusion receded like the tide, and focus slowly returned, until at last my own face—full of excitement and concern—was reflected clearly in her eyes.

“Papa…”

That faint call struck me like thunder from the heavens. The taut strings within me, drawn tight for so many years, finally loosened completely. A rush of joy and sorrow flooded my heart, and my eyes burned with unshed tears.

“How long have I been asleep?” She rubbed her eyes and sat up, her voice lazy with recent slumber. “Is it morning already? Little White, how did you get so big?”

Curiously, she patted the now-magnificent three-tailed spirit fox at her side. Little White affectionately swept her hand with its three tails, purring with delight.

I gazed upon her innocent face, her pure, nine-year-old eyes untouched by worldly troubles, and my heart was a tumult of emotions. How could I tell her that while she slept, the world outside had changed beyond recognition, that all she knew had faded into the past?

No, now was not the time.

Suppressing the tide of emotion, I forced a gentle smile and brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “Yes, Yiyi, you’ve taken a very, very long nap. Now, Papa is going to take you home.”

“Home?” Her eyes sparkled like the stars, all drowsiness gone. “Really? We can leave? Papa, you found a way?”

I nodded firmly, a surge of unprecedented pride swelling in my chest. Rising to my feet, I gripped the dark green token of the sect master and infused it with my Golden Core energy.

A clear humming sound rang out from the token, resonating with the earth beneath my feet. In that instant, my divine sense merged with the very pulse of Penglai Immortal Island. I could sense every crashing wave on the shore, every breeze atop the mountains, every falling leaf in the forest—even the joy in Little White’s heart. I had truly become the master of this island.

With a thought, the invisible barrier that once shrouded the island in despair silently parted before me, revealing a visible doorway. Beyond it lay the familiar, vast blue sea.

Freedom’s breath, mingled with the salty sea breeze, rushed to greet us.

“Yiyi!” Unable to contain my excitement, I turned and lifted my daughter into my arms. “We can go out now! Papa is taking you home!”

“Hooray! Home!” Yiyi cheered with delight. “Can we go find Master Xu Fu? And I want to find Little Tiger, to share the tastiest fruits I’ve hidden on the island! And Auntie Wang next door—her flatcakes are delicious!”

She chattered on, naming people long buried in my memory. Each name pricked at my heart like a needle. I knew—those at the Foundation Establishment stage lived two hundred years, and as a Golden Core cultivator, who knew how many ages had passed? Those people, those days, had likely turned to dust and legend.

But I could not tell her, could not let the light in her eyes be extinguished.

“Yes, we’re going home,” I said with a smile, placing her securely on my flying sword.

It was a magical artifact I had found in the Hall of Ten Thousand Scrolls, called “Green Leaf.” With my Golden Core energy infused into it, the sword expanded, glowing with a gentle green light, hovering steadily in the air. I took one last look at the immortal island where I had spent countless years, waved farewell to Little White—this was its true home—and stepped onto the sword with Yiyi in my arms.

“Rise!”

At my command, the Green Leaf Sword transformed into a streak of azure light, bursting through Penglai’s barrier and soaring toward the endless sky.

“Wow—we’re flying! Papa, we’re flying!” Yiyi exclaimed, her cheeks flushed red by the wind, clinging tightly to my neck with no fear, only wonder as she watched the blue sea racing by below.

It was her first time—and mine—truly flying on a sword. The wind howled past, clouds streamed beside us; the feeling of breaking free, of roaming the world, was indescribable. I let out a long, cathartic cry, releasing years of loneliness, frustration, and longing into the vast heavens.

“Papa, where are we flying?” Yiyi asked, looking up at me in my arms.

“We came from the east, so we’ll fly west. We’re bound to find land.” Recalling the direction of our old fleet, I guided the sword toward where the sun set.

The speed of a Golden Core cultivator was beyond mortal imagination—the sea below sped away like a ribbon of blue silk. Throughout the journey, Yiyi’s mouth never stopped. She dreamed aloud of life back home, planned adventures with friends, and spoke of showing Auntie Wang the beautiful shells she’d brought from the island.

Every word was full of longing for the “past.” Yet I, in my heart, was filled with trepidation for the “future.” How long had it been—ten years? Fifty? A hundred? Was Great Qin still as mighty as before? What had become of our homeland?

I do not know how long we flew before, at last, a black line appeared on the horizon where sea met sky. My heart leapt—it was land!

As we drew closer, the line became clearer, but my brow furrowed ever more deeply.

No—this was not right.

The coastline I remembered was gentle hills and low fishing villages, wisps of smoke, sails dotting the waters. But before us was something entirely different.

A “forest” of steel and glass.

Countless towering, bizarre structures pierced the sky, taller than any mountain I had ever seen. Their surfaces reflected the sunlight with a blinding glare, their lines straight and cold, utterly devoid of nature’s beauty. At night, these “mountains” would blaze with millions of lights, more dazzling than the stars above.

“Papa… what kind of mountains are those? Why do they glow?” Yiyi was stunned, awe written across her young face.

I had no answer. My heart sank, a profound unease enveloping me. I urged the sword closer, cautiously. The nearer we drew, the deeper my shock became.

We saw the ground below teeming with “beast boxes” of iron, racing along black and grey “roads” without oxen or horses, rumbling loudly. Their “eyes” shot out harsh beams of light.

Countless people in strange, colorful attire hurried about, men and women alike wearing short sleeves and shorts, even baring arms and legs—a shocking lack of propriety to my eyes. Each held a glowing little square, sometimes gazing at it, sometimes pressing it to their ear and speaking, their expressions shifting, oblivious to the world.

The air was thick with a peculiar scent—hot, dusty, and unknown to me. The spiritual energy was so thin it was nearly nonexistent, more barren than Penglai in the Age of Decline.

Everything here surpassed anything in my knowledge, or in any jade scroll in the Hall of Ten Thousand Scrolls. The ancient tales of cultivators wandering the mortal world were fairy tales compared to this.

I dared not descend hastily. I cast a simple concealment spell, circling high above in search of a secluded spot. At last, I landed atop the roof of a tall building.

Standing on the cold, hard surface, Yiyi and I were both utterly stunned.

As far as the eye could see, an endless sea of lights, a torrent of cars and people. Enormous, moving colored images played on the sides of the buildings, displaying incomprehensible scenes. From the distance came thunderous, overwhelming sounds, interspersed with strange, entrancing music.

“Papa… is this Xianyang?” Yiyi’s voice trembled with fear as she clung tightly to my sleeve. “But even Xianyang Palace wasn’t so tall, so bright…”

I shook my head bitterly, my throat parched.

Xianyang? This place was more fantastical than the legendary palaces of heaven. Was this some demon’s illusion, or…

I closed my eyes, and my Golden Core divine sense unfurled like an invisible net, spreading over a street below. Countless noises and thoughts surged into my mind like a breached flood.

“…Tonight’s light show at the Oriental Pearl was amazing, so many people queued up…”

“…Traffic’s hell, the inner ring’s a parking lot again, should’ve taken the subway…”

“…Hey Mom, I’ve arrived in Shanghai, just got off the plane, don’t worry…”

“…Check out this app, the new game is awesome…”

Shanghai? Oriental Pearl? Subway? App?

My eyes flew open. I stared down at this sleepless city called “Shanghai,” at my daughter’s still-nine-year-old face, lost and curious, and a wave of unprecedented loneliness and helplessness washed over me, swallowing me whole.