There are many awkward things in the world, but few could truly make Chu Xingchen feel embarrassed.
However, accompanying the owner of a "resurrected" grave to inspect their own corpse—if one were to dwell on it—was somewhat awkward.
To call it awkward might be an overstatement; it was more just... odd.
Naturally, Chu Xingchen didn’t let his thoughts show on his face. His expression remained perfectly composed, as if this were his own grave.
With the grave’s owner leading the way, all the previously designed traps and mechanisms naturally deactivated.
After all, returning to one’s own grave was, in theory, no different from returning home.
Stepping into the burial mound, it took only a few casual strides before a towering, seemingly withered tree came into view.
Beneath the tree lay a stretch of yellowed grass, as though life itself was on the verge of fading.
Chu Xingchen studied the tree. Strictly speaking, Luo Yue couldn’t be called "resurrected"—more like she hadn’t fully died yet.
He glanced sideways at Luo Yue, whose expression was as calm as ever.
Luo Yue, too, gazed up at the towering tree, sensing the faint, lingering aura—a feeling of deep connection.
Suddenly, she spoke: "I don’t have long left to live."
Chu Xingchen looked at the tree again. It was nearly bare, with only a few dried, yellowed leaves clinging to its branches, as if the slightest breeze would send them fluttering down.
"That much is obvious," he replied earnestly. Given the state of the tree, survival would be a challenge.
Luo Yue turned her gaze to him, momentarily unsure whether his words were sincere or laced with hidden meaning.
But sly people always favored veiled implications.
Still, she let it go. She was tired.
Chu Xingchen stared at the tree and suddenly asked,
"If your body was used to block the spiritual vein, shouldn’t you have been supplied with an abundance of spiritual energy? How did you end up like this?"
"For safety," Luo Yue answered, stepping forward as if reminiscing. "If a spiritual vein could sustain me alone, it wouldn’t be a sacrifice—it’d be a tremendous opportunity."
"I left my true form here to seal the vein, preventing its discovery. Naturally, I couldn’t allow any significant fluctuations."
"The Mysterious Purity Heavenly Sect employed many methods for this. Though it’s not entirely accurate to say I received no spiritual energy—I was given just enough to linger."
Their pace wasn’t fast, but Luo Yue could manipulate the space here slightly.
After a brief exchange, they reached the base of the tree.
Luo Yue’s expression remained serene as she reached out to touch the towering tree, a wave of emotion surging within her. Just as she prepared to undo the seal, a curious question interrupted her.
"Can you still return to your true form?" Chu Xingchen asked, reaching out to touch the tree.
Before his fingers made contact, a faint surge of spiritual energy lashed out at him.
To someone at the Unity Realm like Chu Xingchen, it was less than a tickle. He turned to Luo Yue.
Her usual demeanor seemed borrowed from her second disciple—only rarely did she let her composure slip.
But now, Luo Yue clearly struggled to maintain her calm. Her brows furrowed slightly as she spoke sternly:
"Don’t touch randomly."
Chu Xingchen silently withdrew his hand. He hadn’t thought much of it earlier, but now it dawned on him.
While he was only touching tree bark, proportionally speaking, his hand might as well have been groping Luo Yue’s thigh.
Luo Yue quickly regained her composure. Assuming he had something to say, she pressed,
"Why ask that?"
"This tree is enormous. If planted in the sect, outsiders might assume it’s ancient—instantly elevating the sect’s prestige. If you can’t return to it, I was thinking of transplanting it and letting Ning Qianqian tend to it. Who knows? Maybe she could revive it."
Halfway through his explanation, Chu Xingchen glanced at Luo Yue and added,
"But... on second thought, forget it. Proceed."
Judging by Luo Yue’s expression, she cared deeply for this tree. And if Cui Hao ever got the wild idea to climb it for fun...
Even if it was just a tree, respect was due where respect was due.
Luo Yue sighed softly. For some reason, she could never quite keep up with this man’s train of thought.
Perhaps sly people were just like that.
Without another word, she reached out and touched her true form.
In the next moment, an indescribable comfort washed over her.
She had been separated from her body for so long. Her ability to manifest outside relied entirely on the formidable divine sense of a Mahayana cultivator—and her preference for lying still whenever possible.
Even so, the toll had been immense.
Now, with her soul bathed anew in the essence of life, Luo Yue felt nothing but relief.
Or perhaps, ever since leaving her true form, every minute, every second had been a form of torment.
The towering tree dissolved into countless shimmering motes of light.
Like sand cast into the wind, they scattered like stars across the sky.
Amid the golden streams of light, hints of pale green flickered.
A duality of desiccation and vitality pulsed within the flowing radiance.
In mere moments, the colossal tree vanished entirely, its form reduced to dissipating brilliance.
A millennium of existence, erased in an instant.
As the tree disappeared, the entire secret realm began to tremble violently.
Chu Xingchen remained unfazed. With his cultivation, even if the realm collapsed entirely, he’d emerge unscathed—especially with Bai Xuanling waiting outside.
His gaze settled on the tiny sapling now cradled in Luo Yue’s hands.
The sapling was small, with just one tender, slightly yellowed leaf.
Yet compared to the barren, leafless giant, this sapling brimmed with vibrant life.
One embodied weight; the other, vitality.
Luo Yue’s tone was still calm. "Your sect could endure for ages. If you wish, you may plant this tree there—let it bear witness to your sect’s growth."
Chu Xingchen studied it, then asked quietly,
"Is this your true form... or your child?"
Luo Yue ignored him, tucking the sapling away.
"Let’s go. This realm is collapsing. Prepare to absorb the spiritual energy."
"Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t want it!"
"Too late. It’s mine now."
"You just offered it to me!"
"I changed my mind!"
Luo Yue strode forward.
This tree was neither her true form nor her offspring.
It was merely a seed she’d brought along out of fear of loneliness—though later, she couldn’t bear to let it share her solitude.
So she hid it away.
But today, under the warm sun, the seed could finally sprout and grow.
A thousand years from now, it would tower just as she once had.
Though... it would be better if it didn’t end up like her.