Tome of Troubled Times-Chapter 687: The Path to the Profound Control Realm

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Chapter 687: The Path to the Profound Control Realm

Meanwhile, the long river had run into the sea.

The chaos in the capital, the bloodshed in Taihang, the maneuvering on the banks of the Yellow River—none of it was visible to Zhao Changhe, nor had any bearing on his mind.

He had done what he could. The affairs of the world could not, and should not, be the burden of a single person. He had neither the capacity nor the will to take on everything. Vermillion Bird and Tang Wanzhuang each had their own means to achieve their goals. They were already top-tier powerhouses long before Zhao Changhe had even transmigrated into this world.

Well, technically, they’re all my bosses one way or another...

Even Xia Chichi was no pushover. If her abilities could not be trusted, there was no point in trying to establish this dynasty, after all; it would simply collapse under its own weight.

Instead, Zhao Changhe was now focused on the Wang Clan’s secret realm, a place fraught with more immediate danger.

The moment he entered, a crushing pressure engulfed him, nearly tearing him apart. The pressure bore down on him so intensely that it felt as though his body was about to implode. Without the affinity for water energy he had gained through his dual cultivation with Lady Three, even stepping into this space would have been fatal.

The water pressure here was greater than at the bottom of the deep sea. All the water was perfectly still, absolutely pure, and devoid of even the smallest trace of life—its nature was quite distinct from seawater. This purity only added to its oppressive force, threatening to crush him into pulp.

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Yet, amidst the overwhelming pressure, there were insights to be gained. In this crushing environment, he could clearly sense the interplay between air pressure and water pressure, and how they could be harnessed. This was undoubtedly the origin of the Wang Clan’s Heavenly Sea-Suppressing Art.

How on earth did the Wang Clan’s ancestors survive here? Did Wang Daoning ever actually step into this secret realm? The sheer pressure here feels stronger than the power of gods and demons.

Then again, when natural forces reach a certain magnitude, they are indistinguishable from divine power. Isn’t that the root of all ancestral faith?

Zhao Changhe mused that regular visits to this place might actually strengthen his body’s resilience, addressing his comparatively lacking defense. Perhaps then he would not end up battered and broken every time. But that was not a luxury he could afford right now. The immediate priority was defusing this ticking time bomb.

He scanned the endless expanse of water, its boundaries out of sight. How vast is this place? If I need to redirect it to the ocean, how do I do it? And would the Eastern Sea even be able to contain it?

“Hey, blindie.”

“...Don’t bother me. I’m thinking of a poem.”

“Stop with the poetry for now. How do we drain this water?” Zhao Changhe asked. “Piaomiao once mentioned that she was helping someone, and together with that person, she would protect the mortal realm. That someone must have been you, right? You said yourself that you’re here to protect the mortal realm.”

This was not just water—it was an apocalyptic flood, part of the destruction unleashed when the previous era collapsed. In every myth about the end of the world, there was always a flood like this. Yet, thanks to Piaomiao’s intervention and the Zhenhai Sword, the deluge had been suppressed and contained within this space, compressed into a single mass, and prevented from spilling into the world.

And somehow, the blind woman had been involved in all of this... Just that knowledge alone made Zhao Changhe’s animosity toward her diminish significantly, by at least eight-tenths.

The blind woman did not answer immediately, so Zhao Changhe continued, “Is this your unfinished business? How should we handle this? Should I just follow your lead?”

“Being your boss is nothing but trouble. Get lost.”

Zhao Changhe was taken aback. “Hey...”

She finally explained, “This space is vast. Its easternmost section overlaps slightly with the seabed. Of course, in the context of the entire ocean, the volume of water here is insignificant—a drop in the bucket. As long as it’s guided out gradually, the sea level won’t rise even a fraction, and there won’t be any issues. But if you let it burst out all at once, there’ll be a huge disaster.”

Is this what they mean when they say someone says something but acts in a completely different way?

She added, “You’re actually the one best suited for this task. First, you can sense the difference between this space and the ocean, so you’ll be able to locate the true outflow point. Second, you’ve mastered the Wang Clan’s cultivation techniques and you can manipulate external qi, so you are able to guide the water properly.”

As they spoke, Zhao Changhe’s body was already nearing its limit. His muscles bulged under the immense pressure, and it was clear he was struggling to hold on.

Yet something about this task—this act of saving the world—resonated deeply with him. He pushed forward, enduring the strain as he moved eastward to find the exit point for the water.

The blind woman followed, saying, “Don’t push yourself too hard. This process is also an exercise in mastering qi. The external qi around you and the internal qi within your body are interconnected. They’re merely different manifestations of the same energy. Learning to control this is a step toward profound control.”

Zhao Changhe paused, startled. “Wait... are you teaching me how to break through to the Profound Control Realm?”

She replied nonchalantly, “Even if I didn’t, you’d figure it out on your own. Your perception is too sharp for it to stay hidden. I’m just making myself look generous.”

That was true enough. Zhao Changhe had already been pondering the connection between internal and external qi, but hearing her articulate it so plainly, a rare occurrence, was rather surprising.

The interplay of internal and external qi, the distinction between pressure and resistance, and the balance of gravity—this was not just a survival exercise. It had another purpose: it was the foundation of flight.

Flight in the Profound Control Realm came in various forms. Some, like Hidden Wind, commanded the air itself, riding the wind, while others, like the ancient demon god Dark Oblivion, dissolved into the darkness. These methods were linked to their unique attributes. But another method relied purely on manipulating the forces of gravity and air, mastering the energy required to counterbalance them.

And it was this kind of free flight that was a true hallmark of the Profound Control Realm.

Thus, a realization struck Zhao Changhe: he could potentially use this opportunity to break through.

But a part of him resisted. Zhao Changhe’s ambition stretched far beyond simple flight or mastery over water. He wanted more, much more. He could not shake the suspicion that the blind woman’s sudden guidance might have ulterior motives. Was she genuinely helping him address the threat of the floodwaters, or was she subtly steering him toward a narrower path, urging him to take a shortcut that could limit his potential?

Yet Zhao Changhe had no clear vision of his path to the Profound Control Realm. What should his primary focus be?

For now, he decided not to dwell on it. He had to survive this task first.

With a sharp exhale, Zhao Changhe let go of his reservations. He ceased holding back, fully unleashing his senses. The enhanced perception allowed him to map out every nuance of his surroundings. If the floodwaters held any secrets, he would uncover them.

It was as if a radar pulse spread through the deep, dark waters, invisible ripples radiating in all directions.

Zhao Changhe could genuinely and distinctly sense a difference between the water here and the seawater outside. Though they appeared to merge seamlessly, they were fundamentally distinct. Between the two lay a seemingly imperceptible yet immensely powerful barrier of air pressure, carving out the boundaries of this secret realm.

The external air and the internal qi within the human body—at their core, they were the same thing.

Humans are able to avoid being crushed by atmospheric pressure because their bodies contain internal pressure to balance it. This is something that everyone learns in middle school physics. That simple concept, applied here, carried a far more profound significance. Carefully, Zhao Changhe attuned himself to the barrier’s pressure, his hand resting against it as he sought the shared rhythm between the qi within him and that outside him.

This principle was the foundation of the Wang Clan’s Heavenly Sea-Suppressing Art. Once mastered, it became the basis of controlling qi. With his understanding of the Wang Clan’s cultivation technique, Zhao Changhe found it relatively easy to grasp the concept. As his understanding deepened, his internal qi began to take on a highly condensed quality. Even though his cultivation had not directly advanced, he felt his power take a significant leap forward.

Gradually, he attuned himself to the external qi.

The once-sealed secret realm now had a bridge connecting it to the outside world. It was as if two dimensions, once entirely separate, were now bound together.

Zhao Changhe marveled at the sensation.

Both areas were composed of water, and as the one who had slain the former Sea Emperor and claimed the first blood of the new one[1], Zhao Changhe once again found himself becoming a bridge—well, more like the opposite of a bridge, uniting two bodies of water. With his body as a conduit, the water in the secret realm flowed toward the ocean.

He gritted his teeth tightly.

This was far more grueling than the pressure he had been experiencing earlier. His entire body, from his skin to his meridians, felt as though it were being crushed. Yet he endured in silence, determined to see it through.

The initial stages were the hardest. He had to manually guide the connection, ensuring the water did not burst through all at once. As the passage widened and stabilized, his involvement would no longer be needed.

The blind woman stood to the side, arms crossed, watching as Zhao Changhe’s body seemed to dissolve into water. Her lips pressed into a thin line.

She understood how excruciating this was. But this man seemed to have been waging war against his own pain since the moment he stepped into the world, and his resolve was as unyielding as iron.

She asked suddenly, “Everything you’re doing here... no one will know. It’s just you, doing it for yourself. So why bother?”

Zhao Changhe blinked, momentarily startled. “Huh?”

The blind woman resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Zhao Changhe chuckled softly and said, “I like to show off when people are watching, but I don’t need an audience to do good. As long as doing something makes me happy, that’s enough for me.”

The blind woman snarked, “Well, now you’re just showing off.”

“Obviously, it’s because you’re here watching. I said I like showing off when people are watching,” he replied with a sly grin.

“I’m blind.”

Boom!

The passage widened further, and the apocalyptic floodwaters surged forward, crashing into the open sea with relentless power.

As the bridge between the two realms, Zhao Changhe finally reached his limit. The flood’s force overwhelmed him, and he was swept away like a kite with its string cut, tumbling helplessly into the depths of the ocean.

Instinctively, the blind woman reached out, her hand locking around his wrist. No matter how strong the current, it was no match for her strength. She hauled him back toward safety as if she was dragging back a small puppy.

Zhao Changhe, carried by the momentum, nearly collided with her, but she countered with a swift kick, sending him tumbling to the side. Without a word, she turned and stepped deeper into the ocean, her form gradually fading into the watery depths.

Coughing and sputtering, Zhao Changhe broke the surface of the water, gulping down air in big breaths. He gazed out over the waves, where the floodwaters dispersed into the sea, leaving no trace behind. His mood lightened considerably.

As the blind woman had said, no one would ever know what he had done here—not even the Wang Clan themselves. They knew they were sitting on a bomb, but they had no idea it was a time bomb, and they had no idea that time was ticking.

But Zhao Changhe did not mind. Doing good was not about being recognized; it was about doing what needed to be done.

And besides, I made some substantial gains this time.

His understanding of controlling air and water had taken a significant leap forward, and his physical resilience, which had long been a weak point, had undergone a transformative improvement. The crushing pressures and the relentless currents of water had tempered his body, like being hammered by a battalion of burly blacksmiths and then polished with sandpaper for a decade.

Doing good does pay off... although if the reward is being smashed and sanded for ten years, maybe something’s wrong with what I consider a reward.

Then, his eyes drifted to his wrist.

The memory of her touch lingered. The sensation was unmistakably real, as if from a living person—warm, soft, and incredibly smooth.

Come to think of it... a long, long time ago, I think I touched her hand too.

He frowned slightly. She’s supposed to be a spirit, isn’t she? Then why does she feel so real? And why is she so nice to the touch?

1. Yes, this means what you think it means. ☜

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