pjbooks Chapter 165 Waiting
Chapter 165 Waiting
On the playground of Qingyun Academy, 1,500 students stood in neat square formations.
The morning light streamed in from the east, falling on everyone's faces. Wang Kai stood at the very front of the formation, the "Dao" sword in his right hand, its blade shimmering with a two-tone light of pure white and emerald green. His cultivation had broken through from the late Golden Core stage to the peak Golden Core stage, and the Dao Fruit of the Immortal Emperor of Life had entered its third stage within him—allowing him to simultaneously convert, store, and release the enemy's attack energy during battle.
Shen Qingxue stood half a step behind him, her long, silver-white hair tied into a neat ponytail, her icy blue eyes gleaming coldly in the morning light. Her physical cultivation path had completed all the tempering; the power of ice and ice-type spiritual energy had perfectly fused within her, and her cultivation had reached the peak of physical cultivation—a single punch could shatter the defense of an S-rank apostle.
Bingli and Xuanming stood behind Shen Qingxue. Bingli's long, silver-white hair was tied into a low ponytail with a black elastic band, hanging down her shoulders; Xuanming's black hair was loose, the ends almost reaching her waist. Their cultivation had both broken through from the early stage of the Golden Core realm to the late stage, and the Ice Profound Chaos Power within their bodies had completely stabilized.
Zhao Tieshan stood at the front of the physical training class line. His left leg prosthesis had been replaced with a new one, the alloy joint gleaming coldly in the morning light. His right fist was wrapped in dark blue bandages, beneath which lay a layer of charred scars from the lingering heat of the Burning Soul Fire, but beneath the scars, the newly formed skin was fair with a rosy tint.
Zhang Ziming stood at the very front of the cultivation class, his glasses now a new pair, the lenses reflecting the morning light. His earth-elemental spiritual power had broken through to the peak of the Foundation Establishment stage. Nourished by the Immortal Emperor's Dao Fruit, his earthen walls could now autonomously absorb energy from the void, without requiring him to continuously infuse them with spiritual power.
Fifteen hundred students waited in the morning light.
They are waiting for someone.
The void cracked open.
A seven-colored beam of light blasted through the crack, tearing a massive gap in the thin clouds above Qingyun Academy. From the center of the gap, a figure in a dark blue uniform emerged from the beam. A light blue ribbon tied around his right wrist, swaying gently in the morning breeze. His right hand gripped the Primordial Sword, its blade adorned with seven slowly rotating stars, seven-colored light flowing across the blade, transforming the entire sky into a sea of interwoven seven colors.
Jiang Chen stood in the void above the Qingyun Academy's playground, the Primordial Sword in his right hand, its tip pointing diagonally at the ground. His gaze swept over the 1,500 young, expectant, and nervous faces.
"Attention, everyone!" His voice wasn't loud, but it clearly carried across the entire playground.
At the same instant, 1,500 trainees stood up straight.
"At ease," Jiang Chen said. "The seven pillar demons of the seventh level of the abyss have all perished."
The playground was deathly silent.
Then, Wang Kai was the first to shout. Not a shout, but a sob. Tears welled up in his eyes, slid down his cheeks, and dripped onto the blade of the "Dao" sword. Emerald green light surged from the blade, enveloping, absorbing, and transforming his tears into life energy, which flowed into his dantian. At that moment, his cultivation broke through the peak of the Golden Core stage and entered the Nascent Soul stage.
Shen Qingxue didn't cry. She simply stood there, her right hand's five fingers repeatedly bending and straightening, icy blue spiritual energy flowing between them. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, then that slight curve grew wider and wider, finally transforming into a complete smile that had been suppressed for who knows how long.
Bing Li closed her eyes, her long, silvery-white hair swaying gently in the morning breeze. She placed her hands on the air, and icy energy surged from her palms, condensing into a giant, six-petaled ice flower above Qingyun Academy. The ice flower slowly bloomed in the morning light, its petals an icy blue with faint golden edges.
Xuanming stood beside her, the icy blue light deep within his black pupils flickering slightly in the morning light. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, then the curve grew wider and wider, eventually becoming a complete, warm smile that seemed somewhat incongruous with her aloof expression.
Zhao Tieshan knelt on one knee, his right fist pressed against the ground. Flame patterns erupted from his fist, leaving a deep scorch mark on the playground. His prosthetic left leg made a piercing metallic scraping sound as he knelt, but he was oblivious. He kept his head down, his shoulders trembling slightly.
Zhang Ziming took off his glasses and wiped the fog off the lenses with his sleeve. His eyes were red, but he didn't let the tears fall. He just stood there, looking at Jiang Chen, at the slowly dissipating seven-colored pillar of light, and at the clouds dyed golden by the seven-colored light.
Fifteen hundred students, bathed in the morning light, some wept, some laughed, some knelt, some stood, some remained silent, some shouted. But their eyes were all the same—hope. Hope, the hope that humanity had never extinguished for three hundred years, caught between apostles and demons.
Jiang Chen stood at the very front of the formation, looking at the young faces who had followed him for half a year. In half a year, they had gone from the first level of Qi Refining to the peak of Golden Core, from Ice Tempering to the Great Perfection of Body Cultivation, from barely being able to hold a sword steadily to being able to defeat an S-rank instructor from the Awakened Ones Bureau in one-on-one combat. They had done it.
"From this day forward," Jiang Chen raised the Primordial Sword, its tip pointing towards the sky, "Qingyun Academy will be officially renamed—"
He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the 1,500 faces, over the ice flower slowly blooming in the morning light, over the scorch mark left on the playground, and over the still-scattering seven-colored lights.
"—Hope Academy"
A seven-colored beam of light exploded from the blade of the Primordial Sword, piercing the sky. At this moment, the golden light of hope merged completely with the pure white power of creation, transforming into a pure, unadulterated beam of light that stretched across the heavens and earth.
A beam of light exploded in the clouds, turning the entire sky gold.
Golden specks of light drifted down from the sky, like a silent, golden snowfall. The specks of light landed on the shoulders of each student, on Wang Kai's "Dao" sword, on Shen Qingxue's right fist, on Bing Li's ice flowers, on Xuan Ming's black hair, on Zhao Tieshan's prosthetic leg, and on Zhang Ziming's glasses.
It landed on the light blue hair ribbon on Jiang Chen's right wrist.
Jiangzhou, evening.
The setting sun was sinking behind the distant mountains, turning half the sky a molten gold. Most of the leaves on the crooked locust tree in the flowerbed had fallen, its bare branches casting dappled shadows in the twilight. An elderly woman walking her dog, wearing a thick cotton-padded coat, sat on a bench, her Teddy dog dozing at her feet.
As Jiang Chen walked past the flower bed, the old lady looked up and squinted at him.
"Young man, you're back?"
"I'm back."
"Your mom's stewing pork ribs at home. I saw her buy several when I came back from the market, saying you like cartilage." The old lady bent down to pick up Teddy, then stood up. "Go on, don't keep your mom waiting."
Jiang Chen nodded and walked towards the building.
The hallway still smelled familiar. Grandma Wang on the first floor was stewing pork ribs tonight, the third floor smelled of cooking oil mixed with the aroma of braised fish, and Aunt Li on the fifth floor wasn't burning sandalwood today, but instead had a faint smell of Chinese medicine—probably because she hasn't been feeling well lately.
He climbed to the fourth floor and stopped in front of his own door. The door was still the same old-fashioned security door, its paint peeling and the doorknob worn smooth. The faded "Fu" character on the door was still there, but the transparent tape beneath it was peeling up at one corner, trembling slightly in the wind in the stairwell.
He raised his hand and knocked on the door.
The footsteps coming from inside were slower than they had been six months ago, but still steady. The door opened, and Jiang Xueqin stood in the doorway, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. She glanced at Jiang Chen, her gaze lingering for a moment on the light blue hairband on his right wrist before moving away.
"You're back?"
"I'm back."
"Are you hurt?"
"no."
Jiang Xueqin stared at him for three seconds to make sure he wasn't lying. Then she turned around and went into the kitchen.
"There are pork ribs stewing in the pot, and your dad has been waiting for you so long he's even finished smoking a cigarette."
Jiang Chen walked into the house. In the living room, Jiang Tianyi sat on the sofa, holding an unlit cigarette. The television was on, the volume turned down low, broadcasting the news. The news footage showed aerial shots of the seven-colored beam of light above Qingyun Academy—no, Hope Academy.
When Jiang Tianyi saw Jiang Chen come in, he put a cigarette in his mouth but didn't light it, and mumbled, "You're back?"
"I'm back."
"Good lad." Jiang Tian stood up, walked over to Jiang Chen, and patted him on the shoulder. The slap was heavy, making Jiang Chen sink down. "You've made your old man proud."
Jiang Chen looked at his father, and saw something gleaming in the eyes of this man whose hair was mostly white.
"Dad, I'm hungry."
Jiang Tian paused for a moment, then laughed. The laughter was loud, echoing in the narrow living room, making the cracked lamp sway slightly.
"Your mom stewed pork ribs, including the cartilage you like."
He put his arm around Jiang Chen's shoulder and walked towards the dining table.
"Let's go eat."
Three sets of bowls and chopsticks were already set on the table. The ribs in the casserole were still bubbling away, the dark brown broth swirling around the bones, the cartilage translucent and easily broken with chopsticks. Jiang Xueqin served Jiang Chen a full bowl of rice, the grains piled up like a small mountain, topped with two of the largest ribs.
Jiang Chen lowered his head and shoveled a mouthful of rice into his mouth. The steam from the rice hit his face, carrying the faint metallic smell unique to the inner pot of the rice cooker.
Outside the window, the setting sun had completely sunk behind the distant mountains. The last rays of golden afterglow streamed in through the window, falling on the faded "福" (good fortune) character, on the blooming rose on the windowsill, and on the light blue hair ribbon on Jiang Chen's right wrist.
He put down his chopsticks, took out his phone from his pocket, and opened the Hope Academy's WeChat group.
There were five thousand unread messages in the group. He scrolled through them and found that most of them were from students—some were showing off their newly crafted flying swords, some were sharing their experiences of breaking through to the Golden Core stage, some were asking about the course schedule for the next semester, and some were posting photos of the seven-colored pillar of light above the academy.
At the top is a message posted by Wang Kai, consisting of only one sentence.
"See you tomorrow, Brother Chen."
Jiang Chen stared at the line of text, remaining silent for a moment. Then he typed two words and sent it.
"tomorrow."
He put down his phone and picked up his chopsticks again.
Moonlight streamed in through the window, falling on the potted rose in bloom. The petals were deep red, with a faint golden sheen at the edges, swaying gently in the evening breeze.
In the distance, on the Hope Academy's training ground, 1,500 students were practicing. Silver-white sword light flashed in the moonlight, and a dull thud echoed from the direction of the physical training area; the crisp metallic clang carried far on the night wind.
Further away, deep within the void's origin, Kahn opened his eyes. His amber pupils reflected the lights of that azure planet, the slowly fading seven-colored beam of light above Hope Academy, and the boy eating ribs in an ordinary apartment in Jiangzhou City.
The corners of his mouth turned up slightly.
"Jiang Chen, next time we meet, I won't lose again."
At the very bottom of the abyss, the fragments of chaotic origin left behind by the two fallen demon gods, sealed for three million years, are slowly coalescing. Not coalescing back into demon gods, but coalescing into a completely new existence, one that has never appeared in this universe before.
It has no name. It has no form. It has no consciousness. But it has power—a new power born from the fusion of the nothingness of "return to nothingness" and the origin of "creation" after its fall, with the power of hope accumulated by humanity over three hundred years.
It slowly rotated in that void illuminated by golden light.
It is waiting.
Waiting for a master.
Waiting for someone who can take it on.
Waiting for someone willing to use "returning to nothingness" to negate despair and "creation" to create hope.
Waiting for Jiang Chen.