The Ascension Ritual and a Promise

In a different spatial realm, Xu Qingzhu and Lu Yanling arrived at the Zhang Estate.

Though the gates of the Zhang Estate appeared unscathed, it did not signify safety within.

Rubbing her small hands together, Lu Yanling exhaled a puff of warm air, warming her palms.

She lifted her gaze, blinking her lashes as she asked:

“Brother Xiaozhu, it feels even colder here than before.”

“Indeed,” Xu Qingzhu murmured, his mood visibly souring, his expression darkening.

Only a short while ago, the two of them had fought their way through a horde of specters, carving a bloody path to freedom.

The entirety of Dangyang County felt as though winter had descended, yet not a single snowflake graced the air, only a bone-chilling cold.

On their journey, he had witnessed numerous spectral figures of passersby. Equally disturbing were the ordinary folk, huddled in corners, frozen solid to death.

Synthesizing these varied observations, he concluded that this was an Ascension Ritual.

“Is this demonic Ascension Ritual Xiao Yao’s doing?” Xu Qingzhu mused, a guess forming in his mind.

Among the demonic cultivators, powerful individuals possessed the knowledge to summon demon gods. By initiating these rituals, they could appease the deities and earn rewards.

However, those who received these rewards were, in truth, ‘ascended’ into pure, unadulterated demons.

They shed their humanity entirely, a transformation the demonic cultivators reverently termed the ‘Demonic Holy Body’.

The forms of Ascension Rituals were manifold. This particular method, involving the partitioning of numerous minor worlds and trials based on individual strength, was merely one of the simpler variations.

“Demons are never benevolent,” Xu Qingzhu deeply understood this truth.

Across his hundreds of years of cultivation, he had witnessed countless lives lost to these ‘Ascension Rituals’ in his previous existence.

In the eyes of true demons, both cultivators and commoners were nothing more than expendable resources, existing solely for their gratification.

A more palatable interpretation might be ‘equal treatment,’ where everyone received a trial. A harsher, more truthful one would be ‘harm befalling the innocent’.

All who perished became nourishment for the ritual. A minute fraction was bestowed upon the strongest as a ‘reward,’ while the rest were entirely devoured by the demons.

From any perspective, the demons stood to gain, always.

They merely sought to observe a grand spectacle, a play where everyone’s life was the ultimate wager.

“Snap…” Xu Qingzhu clenched his fist, the knuckles cracking audibly. He gazed skyward, his eyes cold.

He knew not the fates of others, yet standing before the Zhang Estate, gazing at its eerily silent gates, he felt a flicker of hesitation.

Uncle Zhang, Jingmeng, and even Su Mo might be inside, but…

They might not be alive.

The partitioning of space, and who ended up together, always depended on the demon’s whim.

Unfortunately, it reveled in witnessing human heartbreak and despair, ideally driving them to succumb to demonic influence, facilitating their ‘ascension’.

“Brother Xiaozhu, it seems those two groups of specters from earlier have followed us,” Lu Yanling said, her brow furrowed in a deep frown.

Her methods for locating people were potent, and similarly, her ability to perceive her surroundings was exceptional.

“Let’s go in.” Xu Qingzhu took a deep breath, casually drawing out a high-grade magical artifact.

He paused, recognizing it. It was Su Mo’s longsword artifact.

“…”

Inside the Zhang Estate, the scene was eerily normal, save for the frosty mist in the air, the ice coating the walls, and a blanket of white frost across the ground.

The fallen leaves he’d seen the servants sweep away that morning now lay piled in the corners, frozen solid like bricks.

Passing Su Mo’s bedchamber, Xu Qingzhu found himself pushing the door open, almost instinctively.

“Creak…” The doorframe groaned, tiny shards of ice falling before his eyes. Xu Qingzhu calmly surveyed the empty room.

A woman’s room; Lu Yanling recognized it instantly and lowered her gaze.

She couldn’t comprehend how that ‘Demoness Su’ could have found her way into Xu Qingzhu’s heart.

She distinctly remembered him vowing that day to avenge his parents, to exterminate every last remnant of the Su family.

Yet, upon their reunion, she found her beloved terrifyingly unfamiliar, even having fallen for Su Mo.

“Brother Xiaozhu, did you come all this way just for her?” Lu Yanling felt an urge to flee, believing her journey to the mortal realm to find him had been foolish.

Still, she forced herself to be patient, at least until her beloved had finished speaking. Just as in their youth, he had always indulged her, no matter what.

After a moment, Xu Qingzhu turned, speaking calmly:

“Xiaoling, I do not like her. Please, do not misunderstand.”

“…Is that so? Then, would you be willing to return with me? The Lu family could also be your home.” Lu Yanling lowered her eyes, not daring to look at him.

She feared seeing even a hint of reluctance in his gaze, any lingering affection for Su Mo.

‘To hold no hope was, in a way, a different kind of fortune.’

Gently stroking her head, Xu Qingzhu promised:

“Now is not the time. Perhaps one day, when all I need to do is complete, I will come for you…”

He paused for a long moment before uttering two words:

“To marry you.”

Her pupils dilated. How many years had Lu Yanling yearned for those two words?

Joyfully, Lu Yanling embraced his sturdy waist, nodding emphatically.

She let out a small sob:

“Mm-hm.”

With a long sigh, Xu Qingzhu gazed through the frost-laden window at the vast expanse of white outside, a profound sense of bewilderment in his heart.

He constantly felt as though he had become someone else, no longer able to discern his own true self.

Nor could he clearly see the face of his childhood sweetheart anymore.

‘Was this promise, made in the present, not merely a fulfillment of a centuries-old obsession from his previous life?’

Where was he truly living? He didn’t know. Yet, in the corner of the long corridor, amidst the drooping willows, he caught a glimpse of a seductive silhouette.

‘Su Mo?’ His heart sank.

****

The Zhang Estate was more desolate than he had imagined, and not merely in a physical sense.

Having walked this far, Xu Qingzhu had yet to discover a single soul.

It wasn’t until they passed a deep well that Lu Yanling suddenly called out to him:

“Someone’s down there… I think they’re dead?”

“Dead?” Xu Qingzhu’s eyes darkened. He immediately rushed over, leaning down to peer into the pitch-black well.

A rope, still attached to a wooden bucket, hung deep within. In the dim light, Xu Qingzhu glimpsed a figure in the well.

The person was submerged in the icy water, half-clutching the bucket and rope. They had evidently tried to climb out, only to fall back down.

Ultimately, they had chosen to depart.

“Uncle Zhang…” His throat felt constricted. He leaned forward and leaped down.

When he emerged, he was carrying the pale-faced middle-aged man on his back: Uncle Zhang.

“Hoo…” An incredibly faint breath escaped the man, his exhalations brushing against Xu Qingzhu’s neck like a phantom touch.

Gritting his teeth, he carried Uncle Zhang to a room and bundled him in blankets. He then cast a fire spell, allowing the flames to gently warm Uncle Zhang without overwhelming him.

Stimulated by the warmth, Uncle Zhang’s eyes fluttered open. He immediately recognized Xu Qingzhu’s familiar, handsome face.

A relieved smile touched his lips, his mouth opening as if to speak.

“Xiaoling, quickly take these herbs and boil them!” Xu Qingzhu fumbled, pulling out a pile of medicinal ingredients and handing them to her.

His hands, which never trembled even when wielding a sword, now struggled to hold a simple packet of herbs.

“Mm.” Lu Yanling understood that the uncle and nephew needed to speak, or perhaps… this was their last conversation.

Without asking further, she hurried outside to start a fire and prepare the medicine.

Fortunately, during her time following Xu Qingzhu, she had endured her lively nature and pretended to enjoy pharmacology.

‘Back then, she had thought, if he liked something, she must like it too.’

‘But now that he liked Su Mo, how could she possibly like her?’

“Waaah…” At this thought, tears abruptly fell from Lu Yanling’s eyes, splashing into the boiling water of the medicine pot.

Wiping her tears, she tried to reassure herself:

“It’s alright. Brother Xiaozhu promised me… he surely will…”

‘Yet, how could she understand that under the cruel hand of fate, even the most fervent promises often led to regret?’

Meanwhile, Xu Qingzhu held Uncle Zhang’s hand, leaning in to listen intently.

The voice that had once been so robust and full of vitality was now barely a whisper.

Uncle Zhang spoke:

“Xuer… to see you, I am content…”

“Uncle Zhang, I will save you.” Xu Qingzhu declared without hesitation.

Just as he had done before, Uncle Zhang said:

“My condition… don’t I know it myself? Listen to me…”

“…” Xu Qingzhu held his hand, continuously infusing him with spiritual energy, desperately trying to heal him.

‘But ever since his Poison Body awakened, he had only known how to kill, forgetting how to save.’

‘Had his quest for vengeance also killed a part of himself?’

He wanted to shake his head, but Uncle Zhang couldn’t move. His eyes drifted to Xu Qingzhu’s side, and he asked:

“She… where is your wife…?”

“…”

“What was her name… again?” Uncle Zhang looked at him.

“Su Yao,” Xu Qingzhu replied.

“Crack!” A sharp sound echoed, followed by the muffled sobs of someone running away outside.

Xu Qingzhu trembled slightly, remaining silent and still.