Chapter 408: Chapter 56: Lu Zi Carries a Coffin into the Starry Sky

「Dragon Tiger Peak.」

Under Yan Huang’s complicated gaze, Xiaoyan threw herself into Lu Xuan’s arms.

Two towering peach trees stood there—one flourished, the other was dead and withered. Behind them, the Daoist Palace was shrouded in dust. Beneath the heavy layers of dust lay a network of deep, crisscrossing fissures.

The cracks had spread over countless years. Even now, an ancient and undying, murderous Immortal Light still lingered within the fissures, shimmering brilliantly.

Lu Xuan silently held Xiaoyan, inhaling the sweet, natural scent of peaches from her. He gazed at the scorched, dead peach tree as he gently patted her on the back and comforted her.

"I’m here."

Yan Jiangxue buried her head on Lu Xuan’s shoulder, as if she were sobbing quietly.

A long time passed before Xiaoyan let go of Lu Xuan. She looked up, her eyes glistening with tears.

"Xiaolu, I saw so many things... so many terrible things..."

Lu Xuan gently took Xiaoyan’s hand. With his other, he wiped the tears from her face. A late-spring, early-summer breeze swept over them, washing across the mountaintop.

Yan Huang stepped forward then, his expression immensely complicated as he asked softly,

"Sweetheart, what in the world... what happened?"

In all these years, it was the first time he had seen his daughter cry so much. Her eyes were slightly red and swollen, and messy tear tracks streaked her fair face.

Nearby, the Old Celestial Master, Li Changgeng, and the black ox all remained silent, quietly observing.

Xiaoyan took a deep breath and shook her head, her face a mask of confusion.

"I don’t know, I don’t know..."

As she spoke, she turned, pointed at the dead peach tree, and said softly,

"When I touch this tree, I see so many things. A deep sorrow wells up from within me... it’s inexplicable, indescribable..."

Yan Huang glanced at the peach tree, and his heart jolted. A thoughtful expression also surfaced on the Old Celestial Master’s face as he fell deep into contemplation.

At that moment, Lu Xuan felt his own qi and blood begin to churn, and his heart started to pound for no apparent reason.

He didn’t overthink it, assuming it was just a sudden palpitation caused by the dead peach tree.

After a moment, Lu Xuan helped Xiaoyan forward. They stood quietly beside the dead peach tree. He silently reached out and stroked its charred trunk, a bone-chilling coldness filling his eyes.

’The future is uncertain, but the past is set in stone. Since the peach tree of this era is dead, it means that a fixed, unchangeable piece of history must have already occurred...’

He then looked at the Daoist Palace, riddled with cracks and on the verge of collapse. His Second Master had once sat in meditation within this very palace.

But now, it was in ruins. The surface of the Daoist Palace bore the marks of lightning strikes, saber gashes, and sword slashes. It seemed an earth-shattering battle had once erupted here, its repercussions so far-reaching that they became an immutable part of history.

The chill in Lu Xuan’s heart grew, piece by piece. That sense of foreboding also intensified, as if something terrible was happening.

He suppressed the unease in his heart and stared at the charred, dead tree trunk, his thoughts turning to the Little Peach Spirit who had accompanied him for a century.

Beside him, Yan Jiangxue summoned her courage and reached out to stroke the trunk. A wistful expression appeared on her face, her eyes filled with sorrow, as she began to describe in a low voice,

"I saw three fleeting visions. In one, Celestial Soldiers and Generals were arrayed in the clouds. Golden Boys beat drums, and Jade Maidens sang praises. A Celestial Palace plummeted from the sky amid billowing smoke and dust, smashing a Celestial General deep into the earth. Countless bolts of heavenly lightning struck down, blossoming across this very mountain..."

Yan Huang and the Old Celestial Master exchanged a startled glance. ’What Xiaoyan is describing... it sounds like the arrival of the True Saint of the North Pole at Dragon Tiger Mountain, doesn’t it?’

Yan Jiangxue continued,

"In the second vision, wails of agony echoed across the Human World. A lone, masked figure sat before the Celestial Gate, facing a chessboard and placing a stone. The two peach trees waved their branches, piercing countless Immortals... In that vision, Immortals fell like rain."

As she said this, she suddenly choked up again. Bewilderment and fear crossed her face, and her voice broke into a sob.

"And the third vision..."

"In the third vision... I saw myself. I saw you, Xiaolu. I saw a scholar gently waving a Feather Fan, a Daoist wielding two Three-Ring Five-Section Swords... I saw so, so many others..."

"Later in that vision, things grew even more tragic than before. A Martial Saint wielding a Yanyue Saber was beheaded by an Immortal. A peerless hero of his generation was crucified. The Great Wall itself soared into the sky..."

"And then... then there was an intensely bright flash of lightning. It struck the peach tree, extinguishing its life force and causing the Daoist Palace to collapse. I saw you, Xiaolu... you were crying. I was lying next to you, dead on the ground. And you, Xiaolu, you were so, so angry. You grabbed an azure sword and charged at an incredibly powerful Immortal..."

"Finally, the heavens above trembled. The branches of the dead, divine tree pierced the sky one last time. The Great Palace plummeted amidst billowing smoke and dust. The earth was torn asunder, cities crumbled, and the mountains and rivers shattered.

Countless people were weeping, mourning the dead. A grief-stricken Daoist carved a tombstone and established a Great Ban..."

Before she could finish, Lu Xuan pulled her into his arms, whispering in her ear,

"Everything you saw, everything you said—it’s all just a nightmare. It won’t happen."

"But... but..." Xiaoyan started to say, dazed, but Lu Xuan cut her off.

"It won’t happen."

Lu Xuan was very familiar with the last part of Xiaoyan’s vision. ’I’ve seen that scene before, in [Lu Xuan’s Tomb]. But it’s already been proven to be a false history, something fabricated by my two masters to conceal the truth...’

’Even though everything seems to be converging on that false history,’ Lu Xuan thought, ’what’s fake can never become real.’

Never.

But even as he thought this, a fire in Lu Xuan’s heart burned hotter and hotter. And yet, amidst that scorching flame, his eyes were a sheet of ice.

He asked softly,