Chapter Forty: Heavenly Tribulation

Closing his eyes for no more than the span of an incense stick, Ye Sansi woke abruptly, anxiety roiling in his chest. He tossed and turned, unable to return to sleep, yet dared not disturb Taiyi, resting nearby.

Quietly, Sansi rose, stepped softly to the door, pushed it open with care, and slipped into the street. Wandering aimlessly in the night, his thoughts unsettled, he found himself, almost by accident, at the teahouse.

The innkeeper spotted him and hurried over. “Young master, why aren’t you resting in your room? Did you drink too much tea earlier and now can’t sleep?”

Ye Sansi found an empty seat and sat, furrowing his brow with a sigh. “No, that’s not it. Usually, I can sleep anywhere, anytime. These past days have been tiring enough, but my heart is restless, and I can’t quiet my mind to sleep.”

“Restless mind? When you leave, let me send some calming tea with you. Brew it when you have time—drink a little and you’ll feel better. I know the feeling—I’ve been there. Decades ago, my wife and child insisted on returning to her family. I worried for their safety, felt that same anxiety you describe. A villager suggested tea; I tried it, and it helped. In a few days, my family returned safe, and that’s how I started my tea business.”

Ye Sansi propped his head on his hand, brows still tightly knit. “Innkeeper, why not brew some now? I’ll see if it helps.”

The innkeeper set water to boil, placed leaves in the pot, and said, “This tea is effective, young master, but heart troubles are mended by the heart. What weighs on your mind?”

Sansi sighed. “It’s almost laughable. You offer to take us to Lingzhou City, a fortunate thing, and it’s only a few days’ journey. Soon I’ll see Lingshuang and Nian’er. Yet my heart is uneasy—I can’t shake the sense that something bad will happen on the way, that we won’t reach Lingzhou safely, that I won’t see them again.”

The innkeeper chuckled. “You worry too much. We’ll reach Lingzhou before nightfall. Besides, you have me to accompany you—no one would dare trouble you. When I soar into the sky, not even evil spirits can reach such heights.”

“Perhaps I am overthinking.”

The water boiled. The innkeeper poured it over the leaves, let it steep, and then filled a bowl, handing it over. “Here, try it.”

Sansi took a sip. “It’s good,” he said, savoring it. He knew little of the art of tea—what made good tea or bad—but its bitterness mirrored his mood, which then softened with a trace of sweetness, and he found his heart gradually soothed.

After a few bowls, the flavor faded.

Taiyi awoke. Not finding Sansi, he searched until he came upon the teahouse. From afar, he called out, “Sanshi, what are you doing out here? You’ve barely rested these days, finally found a comfortable place, and you come out for tea?”

Sansi scratched his head. “It’s nothing, Taiyi. I couldn’t sleep, felt stifled, so I came out for some air. I’m better now. The worst of the heat has passed. Innkeeper, shall we set out?”

The innkeeper tidied the shop, closed the door, clapped his hands, and said, “All right, let’s go. Once I transform, climb onto my back and hold tight. The village is small—I’ll shift to my true form in the sky.”

With that, the innkeeper spread his arms, feathers unfurling, feet turning to golden talons, his body stretching to nine feet in length. Sansi and Taiyi mounted his back, grasping the thick feathers.

The great bird rose, soaring to a thousand fathoms, then transformed into its true form—a golden roc, a hundred times larger, wings a thousand times broader.

He beat his wings, flying swiftly but still holding back for Sansi and Taiyi’s sake.

Taiyi shouted, “Wow! This is incredible! Elder Roc, you must be a millennium-old spirit—no less than the current demon king in cultivation and power!”

Sansi murmured, “Taiyi, my heart’s growing more uneasy—something big is coming.”

But the wind was too strong; Taiyi did not hear him.

Suddenly, the clear sky darkened. Clouds massed, thunder roared, and lightning flashed. The golden roc twisted and dodged, but the lightning seemed to pursue him relentlessly.

Sansi and Taiyi clung desperately to the feathers—one slip and they would be dashed to pieces. Taiyi shouted, “What’s happening? The sky was clear! Why should the great roc fear lightning with his power?”

The roc’s voice boomed through the clouds. “Alas, this is Heaven’s Thunder—it’s come for me. I have waited a century, and today of all days, it arrives. The timing could not be worse.”

“Heaven’s Thunder? Is today your tribulation?”

“Exactly. Should I endure this trial, I shall ascend to immortality. Hold tight, both of you!”

As he spoke, the roc dove, dodging the deadly bolts.

Upon landing, the earth shook. He set Sansi and Taiyi down, then sprang back into the air to face the thunder.

From the ground, Heaven’s Thunder seemed less ominous to Sansi—just a patch of black cloud, with the roc darting through it. Taiyi looked up too. “I wonder if he can survive this tribulation.”

“Is it so hard? It’s only lightning. I’ve seen storms close up on Wuming Peak—they weren’t so terrible.”

“A celestial tribulation is no ordinary storm. If ascending were easy, Heaven would be overcrowded. This is Nuwa’s test—survive it, and you gain her power and ascend.”

“And if you fail?”

“This is no mere lightning—it’s ruthless and deadly. If struck, you’re lucky to be merely wounded; more likely, you’ll be reduced to nothing.”

“How can we help? He’s been good to us—standing by would be wrong.”

Taiyi frowned. “I wish we could help, but what can we do? The thunder’s a thousand fathoms above—we can’t reach it. If he were in the demon realm, there’d be many spirits to aid him. Now, out here, escorting us, he’s more vulnerable. If he falls, it’s our fault.”

They wished to help but were powerless—the tribulation raged high above, out of reach.

Perhaps Sansi’s anxiety stemmed from this. The roc’s wings beat desperately, the thunder pressing ever closer—each bolt missing by a hair’s breadth. The trial dragged on; had they been in the demon realm, with help, it might have been easier. But this tribulation seemed fated for now, and though the roc had prepared for a century, his body, unused for so long, grew weary.

Taiyi saw something was wrong. “Not good! He’s spent—he may not survive!”

Even as he spoke, a bolt of Heaven’s Thunder slammed into the roc’s left wing, crippling it. Unable to support his weight, the roc fell, struggling to slow himself, crashing down with a force that sent a shockwave tearing through the trees.

Sansi and Taiyi ran to him. The roc tried to rise but could not. Seeing them approach, he cried, “Young masters, stay back! This thunder is meant for me—you’ll be hurt. I can’t take you to Lingzhou. Forgive my failure—leave now, quickly!”

But they did not leave. Sansi said, “Elder, how can we abandon you? You have been good to us—how could we forget such kindness?”

“Young master, it is not your fault. This tribulation was due a century ago—fate decrees it now. I cannot blame you. Please, go! Mortal bodies cannot withstand Heaven’s Thunder. I have my demon form—I can take a few more strikes. Don’t throw your lives away for my sake.”

Ye Sansi raised his fingers, summoning Heavenly Wrath, gripping it tightly. “We can shield you from one strike, can’t we? No matter—let’s fight this thunder together!”

Taiyi drew his sword. As a bolt of thunder shot toward the roc, Taiyi hurled ten talismans into the air. They fused with his sword, forming a brilliant shield.

The bolt crashed down, shattering the shield in an instant—Taiyi had thought the talisman shield would withstand several strikes, but it was destroyed at once.

The shockwave flung Taiyi a hundred paces away, but he landed unharmed. Sansi now understood the thunder’s power, sweat beading on his palm as he gripped Heavenly Wrath.

He whispered, “Heavenly Wrath, can you help me?”

At his words, darkness fell before his eyes, and he lost all sense.

The gentleness vanished from Sansi’s gaze, replaced by killing intent; blue light flickered at the corners of his eyes as he slowly twisted his neck.

He sneered, murmuring, “Heaven’s Tribulation? Heaven’s Thunder? Can you surpass Heavenly Wrath?”

He leaped into the air, suspended for a moment, then shot skyward at incredible speed, soaring to a thousand fathoms.

Taiyi, alarmed, cried, “Sanshi, what are you doing?”

Within the black clouds, Sansi tracked the thunder’s every movement. Each time a bolt formed, he met it head-on with Heavenly Wrath.

For Heaven’s Thunder, Heavenly Wrath was the perfect counter—every deadly strike was neutralized with ease.

But then, the tribulation split into two bolts—one intercepted by Heavenly Wrath, but the other sped toward the roc and Taiyi. In his heart, Sansi implored Heavenly Wrath to protect them.

Heavenly Wrath could only defend one; Sansi flung himself into the path of the second bolt.

Without Heavenly Wrath, Sansi was utterly vulnerable. Before it could return, a bolt of thunder struck him. He screamed in agony, his thoughts scattered, his body out of control.

As Heavenly Wrath hovered a few steps away, the thunderbolt passed through Sansi’s body, into the weapon itself. Heavenly Wrath, without Sansi’s command, was powerless.

Lightning bound Sansi, each inch of his flesh and every drop of blood seared by its fury. He howled in torment as the thunder raged—one bolt, two, three—Sansi and Heavenly Wrath formed a conduit, drawing the lightning into a web that illuminated the heavens.

From below, Taiyi saw only a net of lightning—Sansi had vanished. In desperation, he watched as the net contracted into a sphere, then vanished along with the black clouds. The tribulation had passed.

A surge of wind swept the sky, blowing the clouds into a perfect circle.

In the wake of the tribulation, the sky cleared to a flawless blue, and the world below was filled with peace and joy.