Tome of Troubled Times
Chapter 810 (1): Piaomiao

Chapter 810 (1): Piaomiao

Zhao Changhe had spent five full days in that half-conscious meditative state, followed by three more days healing himself by consuming Ying Five’s immortal pills.

Even if only taking those pills into account, he had clearly profited immensely from his misfortune, perhaps even a little too immensely. These pills were far beyond ordinary elixirs or medicine. They replenished his qi, his blood, and invigorated his physique. In fact, not only did they restore all of the blood he had lost, but they even significantly enhanced his blood essence. Given that Zhao Changhe’s cultivation foundation heavily relied on his vigorous blood and qi, the value of these pills was beyond measure.

These were clearly treasures Ying Five had kept as his ultimate reserves. Though not particularly suited to Ying Five’s own cultivation path, their worth was undoubtedly astronomical. Yet Ying Five had casually handed all three pills to Zhao Changhe without so much as blinking an eye.

Within these three days, Zhao Changhe not only recovered but unexpectedly advanced his cultivation. At the second layer of the Profound Control Realm, even minor advancements typically took decades or perhaps even centuries of painstaking practice. Yet just these three pills had visibly accelerated his progress.

Zhao Changhe asked curiously, “You mentioned these pills came from the Night Emperor’s medicinal pool?”

“The ingredients did. I refined the pills myself,” Ying Five responded. “Why, are you interested in visiting that medicinal pool yourself?”

“Yes... and if a medicinal pool exists, can you perhaps trace it back to find the location of her original palace?”

“That would be difficult. There’s no trace of its existence in our world. I suspect that the palace itself has been sealed behind an unusual space-time barrier. It’s not just in a separate space, but it’s even isolated in time somehow, so it’s impossible even for me to track directly.” Ying Five paused thoughtfully. “Considering this, it was probably sealed deliberately before the collapse of the previous era. In other words... the Night Emperor prepared for it in advance. If the Night Emperor is indeed still alive, she’s likely hidden within that sealed space, and if that’s the case, locating her could very well be suicidal. Neither of us could block even one move from her.”

“You also believe that the so-called Unknown Existence at the top of the Ranking of Demon Gods refers to the Night Emperor, right?”

“Who else could it be? She’s listed even above Ye Jiuyou.”

Zhao Changhe ground his teeth. “Exactly. Some idiots deceive themselves and even feel proud about it... Anyway, how goes the search for Ye Jiuyou’s location?”

“Interestingly enough... Well, I don’t know why you’re so keen on the medicinal pool, but according to my analysis, the pathway to Ye Jiuyou’s domain should actually pass through that very pool. Let’s go there. You can examine it yourself while I continue to trace the route.”

All Zhao Changhe could think was that Ying Five truly possessed an absurd wealth of spatial fragments. As long as he had a general direction, he seemed capable of reaching nearly any location.

When Ye Jiuyou had casually set that one-month appointment and suggested Zhao Changhe could have someone assist him in finding her, she had never anticipated he would enlist such a thoroughly professional ally, much less one willing to put forth such tireless effort. In the eight full days Zhao Changhe had spent healing, Ying Five, aside from occasionally checking in on Zhao Changhe, had devoted every waking moment to this task, tirelessly laboring day and night.

When they arrived at the medicinal pool, Zhao Changhe quickly realized they had only discovered a small fragment of what had once been an immense garden of herbs. Evidently, the garden had shattered at some point, and Ying Five had managed to locate just this corner.

A few herbs had already been harvested by Ying Five, but the majority remained, quietly growing here. As Zhao Changhe looked around, a vibrant landscape of beautiful flowers spread before his eyes, blooming brilliantly in purples, reds, and myriad other hues. Surprisingly, the transition between eras had not caused these plants to wilt or perish in the slightest. It was as if time itself had halted, preserving an eternal snapshot of the past.

Zhao Changhe sat quietly by the edge of the pool, reaching out to gently touch a delicate, unknown flower. Are these strange and wondrous plants extinct because of the collapse of the previous era? Or is it that they’ve always belonged only to the heavenly realm, and they never grew in the mortal realm to begin with? Perhaps this explains part of the divide between ancient and modern cultivators. The cultivators today are forced to scavenge rare treasures painstakingly from ancient secret realms, while in the previous era, such miraculous herbs might have flourished everywhere.

Maybe this isn’t even a medicinal or herbal garden at all, but simply an ornamental garden. Perhaps what we see as precious divine medicines are merely beautiful flowers from Ye Wuming’s imperial garden, planted purely for her aesthetic enjoyment...

After losing himself in thought for a while, Zhao Changhe took out the Heavenly Tome from his ring and placed it gently beside him at the edge of the pool.

“This was once your home. It’s also the first time I’ve encountered an environment you once lived in. I suppose you might feel something special about revisiting it after so long. I’ll just put you here and let you have a look around.”

A man and a book sat quietly together at the water’s edge. Zhao Changhe took out his wine gourd and began drinking from it silently, not uttering another word.

No wind stirred the poolside. All was quiet, peaceful as a night lost in dreams.

It felt as though a pair of lovers sat side by side beneath the moon, quietly appreciating the scenery.

Ye Wuming: “...”

She had nearly opened her mouth to say something but, with great effort, restrained herself.

After a long, drawn-out silence, Zhao Changhe slowly spoke again, “I don’t care what you’re scheming... If you want me to hate you, there’s no need for all this. From the very moment you brought me into this world, I’ve wanted to punch you in the face. Nothing else you’ve done compares to that moment, so you really don’t need to overdo it. You’re a primordial demon god, so you’re without family ties or affection. Your sister is nothing but another enemy. But I’m different. I have a family. I’m not some orphan you can drag around at your whim. I have parents. Right now, I should have been in my senior year of university, preparing to graduate and start working, thinking of how to support my family. It’s nearly been three years now. I miss home terribly.

“You can see this garden and recall your past. But I don’t even have anything to reminisce about... If anything, all I have is the fortune-telling blind woman. She was the very last person I saw in my own world. So either kill me now while I’m still no match for you... Or, if you insist on keeping me around, nurturing my growth for whatever grand scheme you have, just remember: when that day comes, I’ll be coming to kill you.”

Somewhere distant, Ye Jiuyou and Piaomiao simultaneously rested their chins upon their delicate hands, blinking slowly.

How fascinating.

They had devoured a drama spanning two entire eras within the time it took to finish a single cup of tea.

Suddenly, Ying Five’s voice echoed clearly from afar, breaking the silence, “I found the path. We can indeed construct a spatial bridge from here.”

Zhao Changhe took one final, deep swig of wine, then reached out abruptly to snatch up the Heavenly Tome and stuffed it back into his ring. He rose smoothly, turned his back on the tranquil pool, and walked away without another glance. “Lovely flowers.”

At the edge of the spatial passageway, Ying Five’s eyebrow rose as he asked curiously, “Your legion of wives still hasn’t arrived? If you’re planning to find Jiuyou, how could you go alone? I always thought you were suicidal, but... seriously now?”

Zhao Changhe smiled faintly and said, “She might not kill me. I have some business to discuss with her.”

Ying Five studied him carefully, sensing something unusual in his demeanor. “Are you in a bad mood? Did something here bring up unpleasant memories?”

“It’s nothing. I’m just on my period.”

Ying Five decided not to pry further, shifting instead to a more pressing matter. “I don’t suppose Jiuyou is the type to engage in normal business negotiations. Are you sure you’ll be fine alone? At least let me come with you as backup.”

“My agreement with her explicitly stated I’d meet her alone,” Zhao Changhe replied, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Honestly, when she first proposed it, I nearly laughed out loud. Imagine, the second-ranked demon god, an existence at the third layer of the Profound Control Realm, one of the strongest beings of all history, lacking the confidence to face me if I brought my friends along.”

Ye Jiuyou: “...”

Confidence was not the issue here. It was not that Ye Jiuyou feared Zhao Changhe and his group of wives; it was that among them lurked Ye Wuming.

Officially, their meeting was a prelude to working together against Ye Wuming. Yet who knew exactly what kind of relationship existed between Zhao Changhe and Ye Wuming at this point? Jiuyou’s stipulation was, at its core, merely a cautious test. If Zhao Changhe and Ye Wuming remained allied, Ye Wuming alone would already be troublesome enough. Add in Zhao Changhe and his “legion of wives,” and there would be nothing left to discuss.

Now, however, she clearly saw the truth. Whatever Ye Wuming’s intentions were, Zhao Changhe himself certainly was not counting on her intervention. To him, this was truly a solo venture.

But then how is he so daring, so utterly unafraid of me turning hostile? Is he risking everything just for Cui Yuanyang?

While these thoughts turned in Jiuyou’s mind, Zhao Changhe had already stepped decisively across the spatial bridge, emerging within her chosen space.

He raised his head, surveying his surroundings. Before him was an endless expanse of snow-capped mountains. Despite being early summer, snowflakes drifted lazily downward, gently settling on his shoulders.

Yet this was not simply cold weather. It was the intense chill emanating directly from Jiuyou. Just the aura passively spilling out due to her overwhelming cultivation was enough to alter the very climate of this world, covering the mountains in a blanket of white.

This was not Jiuyou’s true domain. Her own territory resembled that of the Frost Chi. Her domain was known as the Abyss of Jiuyou, the Nine-Layer Underworld, eternally cloaked in darkness. This place was merely the location she had selected for their meeting, carefully avoiding any chance of revealing her true stronghold to Ye Wuming, who might follow through the Heavenly Tome.

But even here, Zhao Changhe could feel a familiar, unsettling spiritual interference, similar to what he had experienced at the Abyss of the Frost Chi. It was that same desolate, deathly emptiness uniquely belonging to Ye Jiuyou—cold, lonely, seeping into the very soul, driving one toward madness in the dark, distorted isolation. It was bearable but exhausting. His mind and spirit felt heavy, clouded, and his body as if poured full of molten lead.