Artifact Chapter 76: Sweet as Honey

Chapter 76: Sweet as Honey

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

 

At the end of the cave was an endless barren wasteland. As far as the eye could see, the land was barren with hardly a blade of grass, only a few sparse and low weeds scattered about, making the place seem even more desolate and bleak.

The group’s faces turned pale. How could there be such a vast space inside the Zen Mountain cave? If memory served correctly, the cave should have been under the He family estate! Did the cave that they had walked through for several hours actually connect to this desert? The landscape clearly resembled the vast desert of the far west!

The group was shaken by this possibility. No matter how fast they had traveled or how miraculous their speed, it would have been impossible to journey from the He family estate to the farthest west, a place thousands of miles away, in just a few hours.

Sang Wusheng’s voice suddenly rang in their minds. He transmitted a message, “Brother, it seems that spiritual energy cannot be used here.”

Lu Ming secretly released a bit of his spiritual energy and found that it was indeed impossible to use it. He responded, “Spiritual energy is formed by the heavens and earth. As long as the world doesn’t end and the body remains intact, a cultivator who has refined their body should never be unable to use spiritual energy. This situation is truly strange.”

Sang Wusheng nodded and whispered, “If I’m not mistaken, we are likely in an illusion. In someone else’s illusion, what seems unreasonable becomes reasonable.”

Lu Ming thought for a moment and said, “Since we’re in an illusion, there must be a formation here. We just need to find the formation’s core.”

Sang Wusheng and Lu Ming exchanged a glance, both seeing helplessness in each other’s eyes. Finding the formation’s core in this boundless wasteland was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Around thirty people stood there, all showing expressions of despair. Almost everyone was pondering the same question—should they go forward or retreat?

Going forward meant they might get trapped forever in this vast, endless illusion. Retreating might offer a slim chance of survival, but they had already come this far into the Zen Mountain cave, so how could they give up now? How could they not feel regret?

Wang Yu, Sang Huai, and others had somber expressions, but their hearts were resolute. The Zen Mountain cave hid countless treasures, and if they retreated recklessly, it would mean wasting all the years of searching, the countless resources spent, and the many lives lost. Even if they were forever trapped here, it would still be better than living a lifetime tormented by the desire for things they could never have.

Wang Yu snorted coldly and took the first step forward. Then it was Sang Huai’s turn, followed by Lu Ming and Sang Wusheng.

The others, after much hesitation, finally decided to follow the group, moving forward in search of the treasure. Since they had come this far, they couldn’t leave empty-handed. Despite the dangers ahead, they pushed forward without another thought.

They walked for hours, and the sun slowly set in the distance. The weather grew gloomy, the sunlight faded, and the earth darkened, with the temperature dropping. In this wasteland, they could no longer use spiritual energy, and their strength began to falter. The cold wind started to blow fiercely, forcing them to tremble and bundle up, their steps growing heavier as they continued to march forward.

They walked through the night, exhausted and gasping for breath. Without spiritual energy, they felt as though they had lost everything. The cold, hunger, and fatigue brought them unimaginable pain. Every one of them kept their ears sharp and eyes wide, searching for any signs of something unusual, but every inch of the land seemed devoid of anything that stood out. In other words, no one could detect any flaws in the illusion or find the core of the formation.

As time passed, the sun rose and set again, day after day. The wasteland seemed endless, stretching on and on. The hopeful expressions on their faces gradually turned to despair, and eventually, only numbness remained. Over ten days had passed, and there was no water, no food. Everyone clung to their extraordinary physiques, developed over decades of training, to survive. Without that, they would have already perished.

For the first time, Lu Ming understood the feelings of people lost in the desert as depicted in movies—the hopelessness that led them to die in despair. Without spiritual energy to rely on, he couldn’t even enter space. Even calling for 233 yielded no response, as though a barrier had completely cut him off. Although his Qiankun pouch contained plenty of food and energy-restoring pills, he couldn’t open it.

What kind of power did the Zen Mountain Patriarch possess? How could he, even after his death, maintain such a vast and terrifying illusion, pushing intruders into a desperate situation? Those who entered here were some of the top figures in the Cultivation World, yet they were now trapped in this wasteland with no way out. Lu Ming couldn’t help but feel awe for the Zen Mountain Patriarch.

He finally came to a deep realization: it was never a good idea to trespass into someone else’s domain without permission!

As they continued their journey, more people died. Some gave up, sitting down in despair until they slowly passed away. Others collapsed from exhaustion, never to wake again. Lu Ming and Sang Wusheng were also at their limits, supporting each other as they moved forward, their bodies hunched like old men.

Due to the lack of water, Sang Wusheng’s voice had become hoarse, like sandpaper. He laughed softly and said, “Brother, it looks like we’re going to die here.”

Lu Ming firmly grasped his hand and shook his head. “You won’t die.”

Sang Wusheng paused for a moment. Ever since he realized that Lu Ming knew who he was, he had felt that Lu Ming seemed to understand many things he didn’t, especially things about himself. At first, he secretly rejoiced, but as time went on, Sang Wusheng felt that Lu Ming saw through so many things, like just now. When Lu Ming said he wouldn’t die, it wasn’t a form of encouragement or comfort; it was a strange, unshakable certainty.

Sang Wusheng sighed quietly. There were too many secrets about Lu Ming. He had always considered himself sensitive and perceptive, but he had come to realize that while he could read Lu Ming’s mind, he could never fully understand him. This paradox was something he couldn’t explain.

Noticing Sang Wusheng’s downcast mood, Lu Ming asked in concern, “What’s wrong?”

Sang Wusheng came to his senses and forced a smile at Lu Ming. He said, “Brother, we won’t die.”

Lu Ming looked at Sang Wusheng and smiled lightly. “Right.”

Lu Ming’s response had hesitated for just a second, but Sang Wusheng noticed it.

Suddenly, Sang Wusheng felt an inexplicable sense of unease, a bad premonition rising in his heart. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, in this Zen Mountain cave, everything was about to undergo drastic changes.

Both of them were preoccupied with their thoughts, which eased the pain of their journey a little. Suddenly, someone shouted, “Ah!” in excitement, their voice trembling. They pointed ahead, shaking, and said, “I—we are saved!”

Everyone quickly turned in the direction indicated, and saw a lone grave not far away.

They rushed toward the grave, tears shining in their eyes. After almost a month of walking, they had finally found the one anomaly—a solitary tomb.

Lu Ming and the others hurried forward as well. They gathered around the tomb, carefully examining it. There was a black stone standing in front of the tomb, and on it were fourteen characters. Lu Ming silently read them aloud and realized it was a phrase:

“The mountain has trees, and the trees have branches. I love you, but you do not know.”

Lu Ming frowned, staring at it for a long while. Suddenly, a scene from a drama came to his mind. It was about loving someone who didn’t know, and so the world left only this lone tomb, guarding this barren sight, watching the sunrise and sunset.

But this illusion had been created by the Zen Mountain ancestor, so could this tomb be the ancestor’s own?

Lu Ming sighed. Could the tomb be the core of the formation? With everyone’s spiritual energy depleted, would they need to dig up the tomb to break the formation?

He silently stepped back a few paces.

Sang Huai and the others had nearly lost their sanity. With bloodshot eyes, they angrily muttered, “Dig it up!”

As soon as the words were spoken, someone began to move. Lacking tools, they had to dig with their bare hands. Fortunately, the grave was made of dirt; if it had been built with sturdier materials, they likely wouldn’t have been able to open it with just their hands.

Lu Ming sighed helplessly. Without spiritual energy, even true immortals had no special abilities.

Half an hour later, the tomb had been overturned. Inside, there was no coffin or corpse, just a small red wooden box.

Someone carefully lifted the box and placed it in front of the group.

Lu Ming looked at the box, unsure of the material it was made from. Despite being buried for so long, it had not decayed and remained intact. The box had ancient text written on it, which was incomprehensible, and strange patterns on both sides.

Suddenly, a flash of light appeared in Lu Ming’s mind. Why did these dark patterns seem so familiar?

Sang Wusheng gripped Lu Ming’s hand tightly. Lu Ming snapped out of his thoughts and turned to look at him, puzzled. Sang Wusheng’s face was dark, his eyes filled with coldness, and his lips pressed tightly together. He seemed unusually tense.

Lu Ming was about to speak when his mind was suddenly struck with a thunderous sound. He grabbed Sang Wusheng’s hand tightly, his body trembling slightly.

The dark patterns on the box were identical to the dark patterns that had appeared on Sang Wusheng’s face more than once, marking him as a demon!

Lu Ming’s mind went blank. What was going on? Why, in this illusion that had disappeared for centuries, in this vast wasteland created by the Zen Mountain ancestor, had something connected to Sang Wusheng appeared?

Lu Ming took a few deep breaths and whispered to Sang Wusheng, “Don’t rush. Let’s see what happens.”

Sang Wusheng silently nodded.

At that moment, Wang Yu suddenly spoke, “Open the box and see what’s inside. Maybe it holds the secret to this illusion.”

Someone reached out and fiddled with the iron clasp on the red wooden box. Surprisingly, it opened easily with a creak.

Everyone held their breath as they peered inside.

In the center of the box was a translucent jade pendant.

The pendant seemed to be made of fine material, faintly glowing with a warm sheen. Wang Yu picked it up and examined it, frowning. “It doesn’t seem to be anything special.”

Sang Huai took the pendant and looked at it closely, muttering, “There seems to be something written on it.”

Everyone’s curiosity was piqued, and Sang Huai squinted for a long time, rubbing his eyes before closing them and feeling it. After a while, he said, “The writing is tiny, I can’t see it clearly, but it seems to be a poem.”

“The mountain has trees, and the trees have branches. I love you, but you do not know.”

Lu Ming didn’t need to guess what was written. It was a token of love given to him by Sang Wusheng in a past life, a gift from Hua Tui, his first concubine.

Though Lu Ming knew that this Sang Wusheng was not the same as the one in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow. His arrival had changed everything, even Sang Wusheng’s sexual orientation. If Sang Wusheng knew that in his past life he had been enemies with “He Qingci,” what choice would he have made? Would he choose the supreme, wealthy identity, or remain the ordinary, nearly penniless Sang Wusheng?

Lu Ming sighed quietly. He could never ask such questions, nor did he want to. Sang Wusheng’s feelings for him were unquestionable, and logically, Sang Wusheng had no ties with Hua Tui. Why then, was the token buried in this tomb, which had appeared repeatedly in the book?

Sang Wusheng seemed to sense something was wrong with Lu Ming. He tightened his grip on his hand and asked, “Brother, what’s wrong?”

Lu Ming smiled faintly, not answering, but giving him a reassuring look.

Lu Ming closed his eyes slightly, immersing himself in the memories from the original story. He recalled every tiny detail, hoping to find something crucial. After a long time, a sudden realization flashed through his mind. His brain cleared, and everything that hadn’t made sense before now connected.

Ming Duo, Heavenly Province God Artifact, illusion, cave… each key word kept flashing through his mind, and the once murky truth was now becoming clearer, almost within reach.

Lu Ming took a deep breath, but his body still trembled involuntarily. He gripped Sang Wusheng’s hand as if using all his strength. Lu Ming tried to release his spiritual energy, and it slowly flowed out. His cold body began to warm, and his hunger faded, but his heart felt as desolate as the vast wasteland.

He had guessed right.

At that moment, the ground suddenly shook violently. The entire wasteland trembled, and cracks appeared in the sky. It was as if in the blink of an eye, the landscape before them had completely changed.

Lu Ming looked around, his heart sinking. He was now on the top of a mountain. The view seemed ordinary—green mountains, clear waters, the sound of birds, and the faint scent of flowers in the air.

Then, a cold laugh echoed from all directions, an eerie sound that didn’t match the peaceful surroundings. The laugh grew louder and closer, sending chills down their spines.

Lu Ming looked in the direction of the sound and said coldly, “Come out, stop hiding.”

The voice chuckled and then spoke, “Qingci, don’t forget, I am a ghost.”

Everyone present would never forget this voice. They had witnessed this ghostly cultivator kill He Qingci and Sang Wusheng not long ago. These two were mid-stage dividers, yet they had been nearly defeated by this ghost cultivator alone, showing how terrifying his strength had become.

Through the black mist, a figure slowly approached. The person was cloaked in an aura of death, their black eyes without whites, and a sinister smile curled at the corner of their lips. The smile only made them look even more like a terrifying specter.

Ming Duo stopped about ten meters away, shaking his head and speaking, “Qingci, you and your good little brother really put on a great show. You almost tricked me. Fortunately, after entering the cave, I started to feel something was off, so I turned back to see the scene of your two burned bodies. It was only then I realized that the ones who died weren’t you, but puppets.”

Everyone was shocked. So, He Qingci and Sang Wusheng hadn’t died—they had been replaced by puppets? Lu Ming and Sang Wusheng’s hearts sank, not expecting to be discovered by Ming Duo so quickly. The two exchanged a helpless glance, and suddenly, a burst of white smoke emanated from their bodies. Moments later, their true forms appeared before everyone. Sang Wusheng saw no reason to hide his real appearance and revealed himself as he truly was.

Everyone present was shocked by the dramatic transformation. They couldn’t believe Sang Wusheng had hidden both his true form and strength for so long without anyone noticing! His demeanor and appearance were completely different from before. It seemed the young master of the Sang family was not someone to be underestimated, especially now that his relationship with the newly appointed He Qingci was unclear. If they were to spar, it was likely no one present could stand against them.

Thinking this, everyone cast sympathetic looks toward Sang Huai. It seemed that the position of head of the Sang family might not be as secure as it seemed.

Sang Huai secretly gritted his teeth in frustration, cursing Sang Wusheng for being too cunning. Even he had been deceived. He couldn’t understand why Sang Wusheng had come here or what hidden agenda he had, but the Sang family could not fall into his hands. With a dark glint in his eyes, Sang Huai made up his mind to find a way to get rid of him.

What Sang Huai didn’t know was that Sang Wusheng’s hidden agenda was simply Lu Ming himself. To Sang Wusheng, the Sang family was nothing at all. However, Sang Wusheng was known for his unforgiving nature, and apart from his nearly limitless patience for his older brother, he showed no such leniency toward others. Sooner or later, the Sang family would be dealt with.

Meanwhile, Lu Ming looked at Ming Duo, his expression unreadable, and asked, “What exactly do you want?”

Ming Duo smiled slightly, his tone almost casual, like he was talking to an old friend. “This world disgusts me so much that I might as well destroy it.”

Lu Ming wanted to curse him for being insane but suppressed his anger, replying, “You think because you have power, you can control everyone’s life and death? Yun Luan is dead. Isn’t that enough?”

Ming Duo seemed to have not heard Yun Luan’s name in a long time. His mind wandered, and his lifeless eyes stared blankly into the distance as he muttered, “If the world could start over, maybe the outcome would be different.”

Lu Ming replied calmly, “Is that your goal? To make the world start over?”

Ming Duo’s expression returned to normal, and he smirked. “Do you know why I think this way? I have to thank your good little brother. One of his mistakes led me to the Heavenly Province God Artifact. This thing is truly fascinating. It turns out the world was supposed to be like this. Qingci, your fate is no different.”

Upon hearing this, Sang Wusheng’s expression changed immediately, and by reflex, he looked at Lu Ming’s face. Lu Ming’s eyes remained calm, as if he had already known everything about the Heavenly Province God Artifact.

Sang Wusheng suddenly had a guess and cautiously asked, “Brother, do you know about the Heavenly Province God Artifact?”

Lu Ming hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Sang Wusheng’s heart dropped. If that was the case, his brother must have already known about the scene where two people fought to the death in the Heavenly Province God Artifact.

No wonder his brother had always warned him to avoid Sang Wusheng and said it was best never to cross paths with him. Had he already seen that terrifying scene in the Heavenly Province God Artifact? In other words, did his brother already obtain that ancient book and create another Heavenly Province God Artifact?

Sang Wusheng’s mind raced as he recalled everything that had happened over the past decades. His chest ached with the realization that his brother had suffered much more pain and sorrow than he had imagined. It wasn’t just because of Fu Shu that his brother had kept his distance; it was because one day he would end up causing his brother’s death.

Sang Wusheng stared blankly ahead, his eyes gradually reddening. His vision blurred as he looked at the familiar side profile of the person so close to him, longing to reach out and touch him, but his arms felt too weak to even lift.

He wasn’t Jing Mo; he was Sang Wusheng, and his identity was fundamentally flawed. Was that the truth?

Sang Wusheng’s body trembled involuntarily.

Suddenly, a warm hand tightly grasped his. Sang Wusheng froze, his eyes still glistening with tears. He turned his face to look at Lu Ming, his expression dazed.

Lu Ming looked at Sang Wusheng’s bewildered face and couldn’t help but laugh softly. He gently tapped his head and said seriously, “Don’t be afraid, and don’t be sad. I don’t care about anything anymore. I only know that we still have a long road ahead of us.”

Sang Wusheng choked up. To hear those words from his brother, he would gladly accept death.

Lu Ming, seeing that his “imagining king” was finally calmed down, let out a sigh of relief. He released a pure aura, and the surrounding scenery suddenly flashed. Lu Ming had taken Sang Wusheng into a different space.

Seeing the familiar space, Sang Wusheng couldn’t help but pull Lu Ming into a tight embrace.

Lu Ming froze for a moment, then hugged Sang Wusheng back, letting out a sigh. Time seemed to stop in that instant. Neither of them wanted to think about the complicated matters anymore; they just quietly enjoyed the warmth of each other, savoring this moment of comfort. Once this embrace ended, they would have to face the painful, sorrowful, and entangled truths.

After a long while, Lu Ming released Sang Wusheng. The warmth vanished, and Sang Wusheng felt a sudden sense of loss.

Lu Ming pulled Sang Wusheng down onto the grass and sat in front of the peaceful lake, silent. After a long time, he finally spoke softly, “Wusheng, I need to tell you something. About the truth of the illusion.”

A bad premonition suddenly rose in Sang Wusheng’s heart. Every time his brother encountered something serious, he became unusually calm. He tried to keep his expression from showing his anxiety and said quietly, “Knowing the truth isn’t always a good thing. If possible, brother, can you not tell me?”

Lu Ming shook his head. “Some things can’t be avoided just by escaping. Wusheng, I’m not really He Qingci.”

Sang Wusheng suddenly remembered everything he had seen in the Heavenly Province God Artifact. He turned away, silent, his expression stiff, and he struggled to suppress his confusion and unease.

 

 

 

 

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