The night sky of the Mortal Realm was split by an endless horizon of stars — silent witnesses to a world too fragile for its own legends. Beneath that sea of constellations stood Shen Wei, his robes rippling with the quiet wind that smelled faintly of incense and blood. Every breath he took trembled with the echo of the higher heavens — the Codex still pulsed in his soul, whispering verses only gods could understand.
"The void remembers what creation forgets."
That voice… faint, ethereal — it wasn't merely memory. It was Lian Yue's voice, carried through the residual qi of the battlefield where divinity had cracked open the world.
They had survived the Cataclysm of Mirrors — barely. But what was survival in a realm that no longer obeyed heaven's law?
The mountains of Yunzhou glowed faintly blue from the residual energy. Once, this land had been home to humble martial sects and human ambition. Now it was littered with broken talismans, shattered swords, and the bones of cultivators who reached too far.
Shen Wei's hand rested upon the Void Codex, sealed in translucent jade. It was no longer just a scripture — it was a heart, alive and sleeping.
"Master Shen," a voice called out from the ridge behind him.
It was Bai Ruo, the young disciple he had saved from the Burning Lake Sect. Her white robe was stained with dirt, and her eyes shimmered like melted snow. She was young — too young for the grief in her gaze.
"Master, the rivers have reversed their flow. The people of the lower villages say Heaven's Gate has appeared above the Eastern Sky."
Shen Wei didn't turn. His silence spoke louder than fear. Heaven's Gate was never meant to open — not until the end of cycles.
"So it begins again," he murmured. "The Void reclaims its children."
The Whisper of the Codex
That night, as stars turned like silent guardians, Shen Wei meditated upon a boulder overlooking the abyss of Qinglong Gorge. His qi flowed like molten silver — smooth, yet dangerous. Within his mind, the Codex began to hum. Pages unfolded in the dark like celestial petals, revealing verses never written by mortal hands.
"When heaven and void intertwine, the soul shall fracture to rebuild the world anew."
He saw visions — ancient worlds before light, before gods. He saw beings of pure will, shaping existence with thought. And among them was a woman with silver hair that danced like a waterfall through eternity.
Lian Yue.
In that vision, she wasn't human. She was the Voice of the First Realm, the breath that gave form to all qi. Her eyes met his — sorrowful, infinite.
"The Codex was never meant to be read," she whispered, "only remembered."
The Return of the Martial Clans
By dawn, the sound of drums rolled through the valley — the Four Great Sects had gathered. The banners of Scarlet Moon, Golden Vein, Heavenly Pavilion, and Crimson River flapped against the dawn wind.
Bai Ruo trembled. "They're here… all of them."
"Let them come," Shen Wei said, standing. His robe flared with a faint glow of voidlight. "They fear what they cannot control."
From the distance, a figure in crimson armor rode forth — Patriarch Yun Tian, a warlord of unmatched renown. His aura burned like a sun, yet when he looked at Shen Wei, something like unease flickered in his eyes.
"Shen Wei," Yun Tian boomed. "Bearer of the forbidden Codex, defier of Heaven's decree. By the alliance of the Four Sects, I order you — surrender the artifact and dissolve your existence!"
A ripple of tension spread across the field. Thousands of cultivators drew their swords, their combined qi forming a storm that made the clouds part.
Shen Wei's gaze was cold. "You think Heaven's law still binds me?" He raised his hand. "Then let Heaven answer itself."
He unsheathed his sword — Wuchen (无尘), "Without Dust."
At once, the world dimmed.
He swung once — a casual motion — but the mountains behind Yun Tian cracked, rivers reversed their flow, and a line of sky itself seemed erased.
The sect masters faltered. The Codex flared, wrapping Shen Wei in a mantle of shifting voidlight. His voice echoed through the field:
"The Void Codex does not destroy. It restores truth. If you wish to stop me, then step into the nothing you so fear."
The first wave of cultivators attacked — and disappeared. Not slain — forgotten. Their existence unwoven like sand through a god's hand.
But Shen Wei hesitated. For every strike, a memory of Lian Yue's voice weakened within him.
Power had a price — and his was remembrance.
The Song Beneath Heaven
Three nights later, under the endless storm of the Heavenly Gate, Shen Wei stood alone on the Plain of Mirrors. His robes were torn, and his breathing shallow. Yet his gaze remained fierce, locked upon the descending gate — a swirling wheel of light inscribed with runes from before time.
From within the storm, a figure descended — half spirit, half shadow. Her voice broke through thunder:
"You have trespassed the boundary of void and heaven alike, Shen Wei. Return the Codex."
It was Lian Yue — but not the woman he had loved. She had become Heaven's Will, the embodiment of celestial order. Her eyes no longer reflected warmth — only law.
"Lian Yue…" he whispered, voice raw. "You knew this would happen."
"The Codex chose you. But it cannot belong to what was born in time. Its words are poison to existence."
He stepped closer, his sword trembling. "If Heaven calls it poison, then Heaven itself must be sick."
She raised her hand. The sky split apart. Lightning of divine essence struck, yet Shen Wei moved like silence itself. Their blades met — hers, radiant and pure; his, void and endless.
Every clash sang with the cry of universes.
Every strike painted the air with galaxies.
The Song Beneath Heaven — that's what later poets would call it, the battle where love and law collided beneath the endless sky.
When their final blows met, the world stopped breathing. Then, slowly, it shattered.
The End and the Beginning
When Shen Wei opened his eyes again, he was kneeling in a world of white. No sky, no earth — only an infinite sea of stillness. The Codex hovered before him, its pages flickering like dying light.
"You have reached the last word," it said in Lian Yue's voice. "To create anew, you must forget everything — even me."
He smiled faintly. "Then so be it. For if forgetting you means creation lives, I will become the void itself."
He placed his hand on the Codex. Its pages dissolved, merging with his soul. The light enveloped him — then dispersed into countless motes, scattering across realms.
And in that stillness, a single note remained — the song they had written together. It drifted upward, weaving through the infinite silence until it reached the mortal world once more.
There, somewhere far below, a child opened her eyes beneath the dawn light and heard a whisper:
"Remember the void, and fear it not — for even nothingness loves."
End of Chapter 9 — "The Song Beneath Heaven"