Evil Venerable of the Sword Dao Chapter 1548 - 72: Feng Zishuang and Zhou Sisi

"My love for you will only grow deeper, never diminishing!"

"If you were only sober, the pain you carry would be immense, and I would only loathe my own powerlessness! How could I ever blame you?"

"If I, Zhou Yan, couldn't even grasp this, how would I be worthy of the profound affection you and Qingyan hold for me?"

Zhou Yan declared with unwavering conviction.

Mu Qingyan remained silent for a moment before suddenly, tears the color of blood streamed from her eyes.

She then extended her now disturbingly dark hand, accepted the chip from Zhou Wangchen's grasp, and progressively morphed into a being with a serpent's lower body and a human head, vanishing once more.

This metamorphosis occurred with such blinding speed that Zhou Yan found himself incapable of tracking Mu Qingyan, nor could he salvage any semblance of intimacy with her.

Truth be told, Zhou Yan desperately wished to enfold Mu Qingyan in his embrace, to lavish her with affection, as he was at a loss for any other means to soothe her wounded spirit.

Regrettably, Mu Qingyan departed abruptly, without the slightest forewarning.

"Yan’er, do not fret, for all things shall improve. At the very least, you now know Qingyan is not under the dominion of an Evil Spirit, and Feng Zishuang, a vital member of the Ancient Life Clan, has also been fully restored, has she not?"

"Everything is beginning to trend positively."

Zhou Wangchen offered words of counsel.

"Father, what of yourself? Since your chip embodies your King Dao, then you—"

"Given that the King Dao possesses the principle of replication, this is merely a matter of expending some energy. So long as sufficient energy is available, the process of replicating the chip will not prove overly arduous."

"Therefore, Yan’er, do not burden yourself with excessive worry."

Zhou Wangchen reassured Zhou Yan.

"Father, I wish not to worry, but do you not fret for me? Do you not worry for Yanyan either? I, Zhou Yan, genuinely yearn to share your concerns, to alleviate even a fraction of your load."

Zhou Yan exhaled softly, articulating sentiments from the depths of his heart.

These were his genuine thoughts.

The constant flux of circumstances often imbued him with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness.

He desired an end to this cycle, yet he had been trapped in such a state since the commencement of the Soul Burying Starfield's events.

They speak of following one's heart, but was he truly doing so?

A profound sense of irony permeated his reflection.

Zhou Yan’s pronouncements seemed to resonate with Zhou Wangchen, who regarded his son with a deep gaze and spoke, "Yan’er, I comprehend your sentiments. However, your upbringing has been unlike any other, and your very existence is the product of an experiment, fraught with numerous variables. We cannot allow ourselves to harbor extravagant hopes. We pray for improvement, but if things merely cease to worsen, that is already the most optimal outcome."

Zhou Wangchen’s words caused a subtle sinking feeling in Zhou Yan’s heart.

He responded with a wry smile, "I suspected as much. Many matters are indeed intrinsically linked to oneself. Previously, it was mere conjecture, but now, I am nearly convinced."

"However, Father, I thank you for imparting this knowledge. Had you not done so, I would have spent considerable time scrutinizing and doubting these very things. Now, such a period of uncertainty is obviated."

"Yan’er, suffice it to know that we are all striving for a better outcome. As for future transformations, should we possess the capacity to influence them, we shall exert our utmost effort to avert any cataclysm. And if change proves beyond our control, having given our complete dedication without regret, then we shall accept whatever fate befalls us."

Zhou Wangchen let out a sigh laden with an especially poignant sorrow, as if all the accumulated griefs of his years paled in comparison to the anguish of this present moment.

Zhou Yan inclined his head, remaining silent, yet an intangible thread of bewilderment was woven into his gaze as he surveyed the undulating void.

His Cultivation journey neared its culmination, having seemingly unraveled the two most formidable restraints within his heart. The path forward should have been smoother, utilizing the inherent potential of Jiang Tianling and Jiang Tianxin’s Original Holy Spirit for the ultimate breakthrough. Yet, Zhou Yan perceived no advancement, nor did he possess the inner resolve to continue his ascent.

A sudden apprehension gripped him—a fear of impending unfavorable shifts in reality, of experiencing a devastating, collapse-like transformation.

"Let us return to the Elf Domain and survey the situation. Perhaps now, things may appear somewhat altered."

Zhou Wangchen suggested.

He then extended his hand, gently patting Zhou Yan’s shoulder, his demeanor exuding an even more profound sense of bleakness and desolation.

Zhou Yan found himself at a loss for words.

He had traversed such somber emotional landscapes numerous times before, yet each instance left Zhou Yan’s spirit trembling, overcome by an involuntary wave of melancholy.

The twilight of Cultivation was frequently accompanied by an ineffable solitude and desolation, a crushing weight of sorrow that represented an emotional onslaught and an almost unbearable anguish stemming from the fundamental human experiences of the "Seven Emotions and Six Desires."

Zhou Yan's lips parted, a multitude of words held back, resulting in naught but a solitary sigh escaping his lips.

After a prolonged silence, Zhou Yan finally spoke, "Father, if I ascend to the King Realm, what then? How shall I proceed? Can you offer guidance?"

Zhou Wangchen was momentarily startled, then responded with composure, "Upon reaching the King Realm, the world will undergo a distinct transformation. At that juncture, you will inherently understand your own path forward without the need for my counsel."

Zhou Wangchen's pronouncement, in an instant, seemed to instill a measure of confidence within Zhou Yan.

"So, after becoming a King, will I no longer feel so at the mercy of circumstances?" Zhou Yan inquired.

"Whether one is passive or active hinges entirely on their perspective. If your heart believes you are always in control, then you are active. Conversely, if the opposite holds true, so be it. Nevertheless, the King Realm undeniably brings about certain differences."

"At that point, if you wish to effect change, perhaps..."

Zhou Wangchen appeared lost in thought, articulating only a fragment of his intended statement before lapsing back into silence.

He then gestured dismissively, remarking, "Yan'er, I still have matters to attend to. We shall reunite soon. Do not trouble yourself over my well-being or that of your mother; all will improve."

Zhou Wangchen repeated these very words, a phrase that sounded both like a comfort and a self-reassurance, a fragile justification he clung to.

Perhaps this was the sole reason he could muster the strength to persevere.

Life is frequently burdened by an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Even beings of Eternal Life and Holy Spirits find themselves in a similar predicament.

This is because, within the mortal realm, emotions, the Seven Emotions and Six Desires, are truly inescapable.

What can be avoided is a person, a being, a Holy Spirit devoid of emotion and affection.

Such an existence is indistinguishable from an Evil Spirit.

Zhou Yan observed Zhou Wangchen's departure, his heart heavy with emptiness, a sense of loss, and profound confusion.

One might assume that attaining a realm proximate to the Supreme King, reaching the zenith of cultivation, should render one unrivaled and invincible, commanding global reverence, and should be accompanied by immense confidence and pride.

Yet, Zhou Yan felt no different from a humble ant, equally pathetic and isolated.

His awareness was constantly drawn to those around him enduring a cascade of hardships and misfortunes, while he himself felt utterly impotent.

Unable to alter anything, he lacked even the knowledge of where to begin making changes.

Strength?

Zhou Yan had always been strong, but it felt as though he were trapped in an unending cycle of reincarnation, forever confined, prevented from transcending, unable to break free.

In that moment, Zhou Yan finally grasped the immense sorrow and burden his father carried, and the origin of his profound loneliness and sadness.

Could it be that embracing the path of emotion inevitably leads to such suffering?

Zhou Yan cast a silent gaze upon the boundless expanse of the world, his steps carrying him through countless singularities, journeying towards the Elf Domain.

That place represented his home, the sole, relatively tranquil sanctuary Zhou Yan possessed at present.

...

A flow of pale golden Qi coursed through her being. As her severed arms gradually regenerated, Feng Zishuang began to reclaim memories across various strata.

Much later, tears brimming with emotions like gratitude and sorrow welled in her eyes.

And still later, all those tears vanished.

Finally, Feng Zishuang’s demeanor calmed, and she turned her gaze towards Zhou Sisi, who remained in silent cultivation, a constant, quiet companion. Her eyes instantly softened with profound tenderness.

At that precise moment, she had truly recovered.

She had regained the most significant talent of the ancient clan members: the talent of life.

She had also reclaimed the most crucial ability of the ancient clan members: the life ability.

Minute particles of golden Qi converged within her body, coalescing into a golden leaf. This leaf detached from her hand and floated gently towards Zhou Sisi.

Zhou Sisi's original cultivation realm was not particularly formidable, falling far short of the King Realm. However, the instant the golden leaf entered her body, Zhou Sisi's realm underwent seismic shifts.

Swiftly, Zhou Sisi's cultivation reached a level comparable to a Half-step Monarch, nearly attaining the might of Zhou Yan's current realm.

However, upon reaching this threshold, Zhou Sisi's progress abruptly halted. Instead, her realm regressed several steps, stabilizing at the pinnacle of the Nine Great Perfections within the Eternal Nine Rules.

Witnessing this, Feng Zishuang felt a pang of disappointment and a touch of regret.

Yet, she ultimately uttered no words, allowing the guilt residing within the depths of her eyes to become more pronounced.

"Sisi, Mother is sorry," Feng Zishuang whispered softly.

At this juncture, Zhou Sisi clearly experienced a sensation; her delicate form suddenly trembled violently and then began to shake inexplicably.

Observing this, Feng Zishuang realized that Zhou Sisi had emerged from her meditative state and was now awake.

Unable to restrain herself, tears began to stream down her face once more.

Suddenly, Zhou Sisi broke down crying and flung herself into Feng Zishuang’s arms, her emotions erupting as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Feng Zishuang held Zhou Sisi gently, offering silent comfort, while also finding herself unable to cease her own tears.

...

A considerable time later, the mother and daughter finally ceased their weeping. Upon seeing each other's slightly puffy eyes, they couldn't help but break into laughter.

"Mother, you've finally regained your memories! You've finally healed from your injuries," Zhou Sisi choked out.