Bombarding Cultivators with Cluster Artillery

Capítulo 1779: Chapter 1747: Soft Persimmon

The Beidou Venerable departed.

He promised many conditions, numerous treasures, and was even willing to spend a tremendous cost to open Star Road to invite strong figures from various sides, but unfortunately, no one responded; all the Supreme beings watched indifferently.

The Ten Thousand Laws Celestial Pivot returned to tranquility.

Some Supremes engaged in reflections and discussions, while Taoist disciples discussed the Dao; some Taoist disciples gathered with swords drawn in tension, especially a group of Sword Cultivators.

Jiang Ding busily listened all around, like a small bee.

Objectively speaking, the discourses among these Supremes and Taoist disciples were very reserved, at most only discussing some directions and foundational principles; the true structure of Magic, Cultivation Method, and Swordsmanship was not revealed at all.

However, even so, there was much to gain.

Jiang Ding’s behavior of mingling among Magic Cultivators drew perplexed gazes from other Magic Cultivators.

“What are you doing here?”

The Fusang Saintess Master Dao Ling whispered.

This newly arrived swordsman stuck near her; others might think he knew her.

How embarrassing.

“I’m here for reflection and discussion!”

Jiang Ding looked bewildered.

With so many Taoist disciples here, what was wrong with him joining?

“You should be over there.”

The Fusang Saintess Master Dao Ling couldn’t bear to look directly, pointing to a distant group of stars where sword qi intertwined, emitting killing intent even reaching here.

These swordsmen had already begun their duel!

In the Ten Thousand Laws Celestial Pivot, only a trace of the Divine Soul could be projected, and once someone died here, they wouldn’t be able to enter for ten years, and their Sword Soul would suffer minor harm.

These swordsmen were playing such games.

The rules were very simple, with cultivation base suppressed to a certain realm, using the same Divine Sense and mana to duel in an arena, surrounded by swordsmen spectators.

This group said nothing, coldly listening only to the constant clang of sword blades colliding.

“There,”

“You should go there.”

Seeing the dazed stars, the Fusang Saintess Master Dao Ling thought he hadn’t heard, pointing again at the nearby group of swordsmen.

Compared to the swordsmen’s environment, the Taoist disciples’ discussion was filled with love and beauty.

“Dao Lingzi,”

“Actually,”

Jiang Ding said shyly.

“I’m a Magic Cultivator, I just enjoy discussing the Dao with everyone…”

“You, a Magic Cultivator?”

The Fusang Saintess Master Dao Ling’s lips parted slightly.

She obviously wanted to say something but opened her mouth and closed it again, silently leaving this place and switching to another location.

Before she could sigh with relief, another star like sticky candy appeared behind her.

“Why are you following me again?”

Master Dao Ling spoke weakly.

“I’m unfamiliar with this place.”

“Dao Lingzi, you can help explain things I don’t understand; others I’ve tried ignore me.”

Jiang Ding explained.

A soft persimmon.

The Taoist disciple before him was a soft persimmon; his Sword Soul sense wasn’t wrong; she wasn’t good at refusing requests, especially such harmless minor requests.

Apart from the soft persimmon before him, other Taoist disciples were indifferent, refusing to casually interact with strangers.

Occasionally, a few overly enthusiastic, smiling Taoist disciples made Jiang Ding very uncomfortable, instinctively wishing to kill them, as he sensed malice.

The correctness of these smiling Taoist disciples’ responses was questionable, potentially laying unintentional traps.

“I…”

Master Dao Ling was nearly in tears.

During their conversation, among the numerous Taoist disciples, a cup of Jadescent Nectar in the sky, following the rules along a random path, came to Master Dao Ling.

This was the Taoist disciples’ reflection and discussion, named Qu River Flowing.

The Taoist disciple selected must perform a task—anything from dancing, sword dancing, singing, taking out a treasure to refine, or even just sleeping on-site—anything very casual.

Compared to the swordsmen pulling swords and slashing, it was very elegant.

Now that Master Dao Ling had been chosen by Jadescent Nectar,

the numerous Taoist disciples’ eyes fell upon her with some anticipation.

The legacy of Fusang Holy Land is long and enduring; in an extremely distant past, a Master of Fusang Holy Land even became the Human Emperor’s empress.

Legend says the highest foundation of Fusang Holy Land, the Fusang Divine Wood, was personally planted by the Human Emperor.

“Today…”

Master Dao Ling picked up the wine cup, letting it dissipate between her fingers, thinking for a moment.

A moment later, she produced a small golden turtle from somewhere, gently tapped its shell with her hand, softly saying, “Little White.”

The small turtle opened its eyes, blinking and spitting out bubbles forming a floating array of fifty-four transparent bubbles before her.

“Today, I shall play the bell for all you Taoist disciples.”

Master Dao Ling said softly.

She extended her ivory fingers to pluck the first bubble lightly.

Ding-dong~

The sound like mountain spring emerged, akin to pearls landing on a jade plate, rinsing away the cultivator’s worries and internal demons, as if washed by water.

This seemed to be a tune she composed, very melodious, with profound meaning, named “Nine Heavens,” provoking numerous Taoist disciples into contemplation.

Jiang Ding too fell into thinking.

The melody seemed to narrate a story, a classic, clichéd love story, where a scholar on his way to the capital met a beautiful woman, pledged for life, and the scene of her bidding farewell to her beloved.

This tune expressed the woman’s current emotions.

Nervousness, anticipation, sadness, and various complex emotions flowed through everyone’s hearts, as if they became the woman bidding farewell to her beloved.

These emotions—were quickly discarded by Jiang Ding.

He brushed aside layers of notes and story appearances, seeing a beautiful Magic structure, distinct from the conventional Illusion Technique enticing primal human desires to attack later, but standing at a higher angle, from the height of pure love, to influence cultivators.

This Magic structure was much more troublesome and had a very high threshold compared to the path of human primal desire.

However, it seemed applicable in extremely high-level battles.

For some strong figures, so-called beauty was of little concern, but the flutter from the depths of the heart penetrated it, even if exposed, perhaps reluctant to hurt, because she truly held no malice.

“Is this the Dao of Fusang Holy Land…”

Jiang Ding mused.

Such emotions seemed inconsequential.

In the world, love is beautiful, yet it pales before eternal life and the growth of civilization; this love may be cast aside, for no life is perfect, flaws are normal.

The pursuit of a perfect life by cultivators often leads to ruin.

Throughout history, many heroic figures have fallen because of this.

Rulers holding the world, beings in politics, riding solitary against internal and external enemies, how can one harbor a person over all else in their heart?

Love, such an entity, is too dangerous and should not exist.