Cultivating Immortality, Starting from Childhood Sweethearts

“The Tenth Lightning Tribulation?!”

In the imperial palace, Emperor Wu, gazing into the distant sky, was utterly shocked by the appearance of the tenth lightning tribulation in the heavens.

When the ninth bolt of tribulation lightning had descended, Emperor Wu had already felt that Xu Ming was in grave danger, unable to help but worry for him.

Yet, he had believed Xu Ming could make it through.

Xu Ming’s talent was exceptional, no less than the greatest geniuses recorded throughout history.

But what Emperor Wu had never expected was that after the ninth tribulation lightning, a tenth bolt would appear?

Had any genius in history ever faced a tenth lightning tribulation?

At least, from the records spanning across the ages—there was none.

“Your Majesty, this…”

The tenth lightning tribulation? Who could have predicted such a thing?!

“We shall see what fate has in store for him.” Emperor Wu’s gaze remained locked on the spectacle before him, unwavering.

Whether Xu Ming could survive this ordeal was now entirely up to him.

If he succeeded—

Then it would truly be Heaven’s favor upon the Wu Kingdom!

He would ensure that Xu Ming and Yan Han bore a descendant!

“Damn it!”

Standing alone on the vast plains, Xu Ming couldn’t help but curse aloud.

Though his vision was blinded by the radiance above, his ears rang with the deafening thunderclaps in the heavens.

And he could feel it—the lightning had locked onto his presence.

There was no doubt about it.

Another tribulation was coming for him.

Was the Heavenly Dao making a mistake?!

He was only undergoing the Dragon Gate Realm lightning tribulation!

A mere Dragon Gate tribulation—was all of this really necessary?!

“BOOM!”

Another thunderous roar echoed.

From within the storm clouds, nine ethereal figures emerged—women, each formed entirely of lightning.

One held a pipa in her arms, another rested a guqin upon her lap. Each of them carried a different musical instrument, seated gracefully atop the clouds. ᚱ𝒶ꞐọВƐȘ

Their beauty was beyond words—comparable to the top ten ranked beauties of the Beauty List.

Yet Xu Ming saw none of this.

All he could perceive was the intensifying aura of the tribulation, growing ever stronger.

He felt unseen eyes watching him.

Their gaze seemed to whisper:

“What right do you have to seize the fortune of heaven and earth?”

Xu Ming took a deep breath, gripping the longsword in his hand.

He knew—the lightning was about to descend.

But what cards did he have left to play?

All his preparations had been for nine tribulation bolts.

Every treasure that Yan Han had given him had been meant to withstand only nine tribulations.

And he couldn’t use too many external aids.

If he relied too much on outside forces, he might provoke the Heavenly Dao itself.

It could deem him unworthy, a coward seeking to defy the tribulation through mere objects—

And in response, it would unleash an even fiercer judgment upon him.

That would be counterproductive.

Otherwise, Yan Han would have simply given him a divine sword.

But if she did, she would have had to take something else away in exchange.

Everything she had provided him was a carefully calculated decision.

“Zheng!”

A single note of music echoed from the clouds.

A moment later, the pipa joined in, followed by the flute…

The melody spread across a hundred-mile radius.

Even the common folk within the imperial capital turned their heads toward the sky, wondering where this enchanting music had come from.

This was a song that no living being had ever heard before.

And this song—

Was played for Xu Ming alone.

“It’s here.”

Xu Ming’s mind sharpened to a razor’s edge.

Amidst the grand symphony of the Dao, a colossal cauldron continuously took shape in the sky, formed entirely of tribulation lightning. It descended toward Xu Ming with unstoppable force.

In the mortal realm, there was a saying: “The cauldron is the ruler of all artifacts.”

For the tenth tribulation to manifest as a lightning-forged cauldron—was this not the highest honor, or perhaps, the most merciless trial, that Heaven could bestow upon Xu Ming?

He was utterly exhausted, drained beyond measure—yet he had to resist.

Even though he knew that his death was almost certain.

His hands trembled as he gripped his longsword, doubt creeping into his mind.

Was there any point in struggling anymore?

Could he truly withstand this tenth tribulation when he had already reached his limits?

No matter how much he fought back—would it not all be in vain?

But at that moment, a gentle breeze swept through.

A faint, familiar fragrance drifted into Xu Ming’s senses.

“Step aside,” he said, looking at Wu Yanhan, who now stood before him.

Dressed in a flowing gown, she faced the descending cauldron head-on. Her gaze was unwavering.

“If I step aside—you’ll die!”

Xu Ming shook his head in frustration.

“You can’t stop a tribulation like this. If you stay away, only one of us dies. If you stand here, both of us will perish.”

“That’s none of your concern!” Wu Yanhan’s voice was as cold as steel. “I will smash that wretched thing to pieces!”

Golden martial energy erupted from her body, coalescing into a massive dragon that coiled protectively around them.

Xu Ming grew anxious.

“Why are you doing this? You have the potential to become the world’s first female emperor. You possess the Martial God Physique—you could reach the pinnacle of the martial path. You have an incredible future ahead of you!”

“I already told you—this is none of your concern!” Wu Yanhan cut him off, her fists glowing with terrifying force as the cauldron in the sky loomed closer.

“I won’t let you die!”

“BOOM!!!”

Thunder raged across the heavens, and fierce winds tore through the land.

The protective formations of the Wu Kingdom’s imperial capital activated on their own.

A golden dragon—embodying the nation’s fortune—rose into the sky, roaring furiously at the tribulation, as if warning it not to come any closer.

“Wu Yanhan, MOVE! You can’t stop this!” Xu Ming shouted at her.

Even in his prime, he wasn’t certain he could survive this tenth tribulation.

Yes, Wu Yanhan was an extraordinary martial genius—but so what?

Heavenly tribulations were not something anyone could interfere with.

If an outsider disrupted the process, the lightning would only become more ferocious.

Even a Upper Five Realm cultivator wouldn’t dare to interfere with a Middle Five Realm cultivator’s tribulation!

“Shut up!” Wu Yanhan roared in fury.

“Why are you so stubborn?!”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do! What’s the point of that so-called future?!”

Wu Yanhan clenched her fists, her heart steady and unwavering as she stared down the tribulation.

“A future without you—means nothing at all.”

“RUMBLE!!!”

“What… did you just say?”

The thunder was deafening—Xu Ming wasn’t sure if he had heard her right.

“I SAID YOU’RE AN IDIOT!”

Wu Yanhan’s voice rang loud and clear as she threw a punch.

“ROAR!!!”

The golden dragon of true energy surged toward the descending cauldron.

With everything she had, Wu Yanhan struck—

The moment her attack landed, her chest tightened, and a mouthful of blood burst from her lips.

But even with her full strength—

All she managed to do was slightly slow the cauldron’s descent.

The oppressive might of the thunder tribulation loomed ever closer.

Yet, the closer death came, the calmer Xu Ming’s heart became.

Perhaps, when one truly faced the end, peace was all that remained.

But he didn’t want her to die with him.

There had to be a way…

There must be something he could do…

His grip on his sword tightened.

Countless memories flashed through his mind.

Was there still hope? Was there still a chance?

“Kid, watch this sword strike carefully.”

Amidst the Sanshi peaks, within Xu Ming’s sea of consciousness, Xu Cang swung his sword.

“Sword techniques, sword energy, sword intent—there is no hierarchy between them. If you devote yourself fully to any one of them, you can reach the pinnacle.”@@novelbin@@

Within the Wanhua Valley, Wang Xuan had once taught Xu Ming the Grass Script Sword Technique.

“Senior, why have you returned?”

After the Zixia Grand Ceremony, Xu Ming lay on his bed, exhausted. Xu Cang, who had only just bid him farewell, had unexpectedly come back.

“It’s nothing. I just forgot to give you something. Consider it a parting gift from this old man.”

As he spoke, Xu Cang casually tossed a crumpled piece of paper onto Xu Ming’s chest.

“This is…?” Xu Ming was puzzled.

“If you ever find yourself with no way out, unfold it. It might be of some use to you.”

Xu Cang waved his hand dismissively.

“I’m leaving now.”

Now, standing under the looming judgment of the heavens, Xu Ming reached into his storage pouch and retrieved the very same piece of paper.

The moment he unfolded it—

Even though his eyes were blind to the world, the three words inscribed upon it in sword energy seared themselves into his perception.

“Move forward!”

Xu Ming couldn’t help but chuckle.

Yes.

These three words carried no elegance, no profound philosophy—

But they were perfectly in line with Xu Cang’s personality.

That’s right. Move forward!

The Heaven Splitting Fist taught that even when facing certain death, one must still throw a final punch.

The Grass Script Sword Technique concluded with the belief that even if your hand is empty, even if all you hold is a single blade of grass—you must still swing it as your last sword strike.

Only by taking that final step—only by delivering that final blow—could one ever know the outcome!

Xu Ming lifted his head, though his sight was shrouded in darkness.

His fingers loosened, and the paper crumbled into dust, its sword energy flowing into the blade in his hand.

His spiritual energy was exhausted. His martial energy was depleted.

But in his mind—he still had sword techniques.

And in his blade—Xu Cang’s sword energy remained.

Xu Ming’s thoughts were flooded with images of Xu Cang’s strike, playing over and over again.

“Move forward!”

Xu Ming could almost hear Xu Cang’s voice echoing in his ears.

At that moment—

As Wu Yanhan struggled to hold back the descending lightning cauldron, she suddenly felt a hand gently clasp hers.

Her focus wavered.

“What are you doing?”

A faint flush rose on Wu Yanhan’s cheeks.

At a time like this—why was this bastard holding her hand?!

“I’ll handle this.”

Still blindfolded by fate, Xu Ming reached out and flicked her forehead with pinpoint precision.

“You—” Wu Yanhan’s face turned even redder, momentarily forgetting that they were in a life-or-death situation.

This was the first time someone had ever teased her like this.

Xu Ming smiled.

“This is my tribulation. I must face it myself. Hiding behind a girl—what kind of man would that make me? If word got out, I’d be laughed at for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! You’re already—”

Wu Yanhan stopped mid-sentence, her lips parting in shock.

For the first time, she noticed—

Swords.

Dozens, no—hundreds of swords, hovering in the air around Xu Ming.

None of them were real weapons.

Each and every one of them was formed purely from sword energy, suspended in the air like an upside-down curtain of shimmering blades.

Xu Ming lifted his ordinary longsword, forged from mere iron.

As if answering a call, the countless swords of energy converged, flowing toward his weapon.

The humble iron blade trembled violently, as if it would shatter into dust at any moment.

“Didn’t I tell you before that I learned a sword technique at Sanshi Peak?”

Xu Ming spoke with a smile.

“During my battle with Xia He, I never fully unleashed it. But now, let me show you the sword strike I learned on that mountain.”

His voice was calm, yet resolute.

“This sword is called— Heaven-Splitting.”

As his words fell, Xu Ming swung his sword downward!

The massive lightning cauldron that had been plummeting toward him split cleanly in two.

Yet, his sword energy did not stop there—it surged forward, slicing toward the nine celestial maidens formed by the tribulation lightning.

The melody played by the nine figures grew frantic. One after another, their musical notes transformed into arcs of lightning, desperately trying to block Xu Ming’s sword.

But—

Nothing could stand before this strike.

“Boom!”

Under Xu Ming’s sword energy, the nine celestial maidens vanished instantly.

The sky itself was torn open.

Through the rift in the heavens, Wu Yanhan caught a glimpse—

A grand, majestic hall.

Beasts of divine omen soaring through the air.

But it lasted only for a fleeting moment.

Wu Yanhan even wondered—was she hallucinating?

How could there be another world beyond the sky?

Was it merely a mirage?

The rift in the heavens quickly sealed itself. The dark clouds dispersed, and in their place—a pool of lightning appeared in the sky.

Wu Yanhan’s brows furrowed.

Something was off—the lightning pool seemed to be tilting.

“Your Highness, you must step back.”

At that moment, Old Huang appeared at the mountain’s peak, his voice solemn.

“The top scholar is about to receive the tribulation’s gift. If anyone else enters, they will be seen as trying to steal the will of the heavens—and they will be reduced to ashes.”

Wu Yanhan hesitated for a moment before calling out to Xu Ming—

“Wait for me. I’ll come get you.”

“Mm.”

Xu Ming had initially hoped that Wu Yanhan could share in the tribulation’s gift.

But hearing Old Huang’s warning, he immediately dismissed the thought.

“Then let go of my hand first.”

Wu Yanhan glared at Xu Ming.

This bastard—still taking advantage of her!

“Oh, oh! My bad, I didn’t even notice.”

Xu Ming quickly released her hand.

Wu Yanhan, flushed with embarrassment and anger, turned and retreated to a safe distance.

Then—

The lightning pool poured down.

Azure bolts of thunder-infused liquid cascaded like a waterfall, crashing down onto Xu Ming.

His already battered body was embedded in a deep crater—one that was soon filled with the divine lightning fluid.

He felt it—

His very bones, muscles, and flesh were being reborn.

His charred skin peeled away, revealing new flesh beneath.

All the impurities within his body were expelled, absorbed by the lightning baptism.

After two incense sticks’ time—

Xu Ming’s eyes shot open.

Within them, lightning crackled and surged.

—

Western Region—Demonic Sect.

Mo Zhuer, who had endured the Black Lotus Sect’s trials, was no longer just a Holy Maiden.

She had now ascended to the rank of Elder.

Lifting her head, she gazed toward the Central Plains.

As she watched, the corners of her lips curled into a knowing smile.

—

Western Region—Leiming Temple.

A venerable abbot slowly opened his eyes.

He looked up at the sky, then turned his gaze to the statue of the Thunder Zen Buddha within the temple.

Pressing his palms together, he chanted deeply—

“Amitabha.”