Chapter 136: The Root of Heaven
Li Ming’s expression flattened. "Oh, great. Heaven saw me and assumed malware."
He raised a hand in surrender. "Listen, I didn’t come here to corrupt anything. I was just—"
A sword of molten Qi screamed past his head.
"Okay. Talking’s off the table."
---
He inhaled slowly. This wasn’t the mortal realm. The constraints of cultivation didn’t apply here. Every thought could be a spell. Every breath, a formation. Every intent, a weapon.
He extended his palm, drawing a circle in the air. The Qi strands bent toward him, eager, obedient.
"Let’s see what omnipresence can do."
With a soft hum, a thousand seals flared into being around him, arranging themselves into a shifting mandala. The elemental threads coalesced, fusing into a single roaring current.
> "Dao Art: Harmonious Annihilation."
The explosion was silent — a blooming lotus of light that swallowed the first wave of guardians whole. The fire spirit froze mid-lunge, its flames turning into mist; the jade golem fractured into shards of translucent calm.
When the brightness faded, Li Ming was standing alone amid a sea of stillness. The guardians hung in place like statues.
He lowered his hand, chest heaving. His Qi fluctuated violently, but the flow didn’t collapse — instead, it aligned.
He’d merged all five elements in one strike. Something the old Li Ming — the one who still believed in theoretical impossibilities — would’ve called suicidal.
And yet the Heavenly Root pulsed approvingly.
The energy coursed back into him, stronger, smoother. For the first time since the time-loop disaster, he wasn’t breaking things merely by existing. He was part of the system.
For once, the world didn’t resist him.
It breathed with him.
---
A whisper rippled across the realm.
"Good. Now ascend."
Li Ming frowned. "Ascend? Already? I just got here."
"You have balanced the elements. The threshold is open. Accept the Root and transcend."
"Yeah, no," he muttered. "Last time someone told me to ’accept the light,’ I exploded into multiple historical periods."
"Refusal registered. Adjusting incentive parameters."
"Oh come—"
The sentence ended in thunder.
The sky fractured like glass, and from the rupture stepped a being that hurt to look at. A colossus made of all five elements, its form shifting every instant — a tidal wave one moment, a volcano the next.
It carried a weapon shaped from compressed laws — a blade formed of every elemental truth.
> "I am the Warden of the Root," it boomed. "Li Ming, you have warped equilibrium. Your existence destabilizes creation."
Li Ming sighed. "You must be Heaven’s firewall."
> "Prepare for erasure
.""Oh, wonderful. Bureaucratic genocide again."
The Warden raised its weapon. The heavens split. Energy equivalent to ten thousand tribulations crashed downward.
Li Ming barely conjured a barrier before it struck. The shield shattered instantly; even his ethereal form flickered from the impact.
"Alright," he hissed, regaining balance in mid-air. "We’re doing this the hard way."
He slammed his palms together. Five elemental circles unfolded behind him, each a different color.
At once, they began arguing — water hissing at fire, fire roaring at metal, earth sulking in silence, wood trying to mediate.
It was chaos — but chaos was Li Ming’s natural habitat.
"Shut up and cooperate!"
The circles snapped together with a thunderclap, merging into a single seal that pulsed like a second heart. The Warden swung its blade again — and this time, instead of clashing, the attack was absorbed.
Qi whirled into a cyclone that wrapped around Li Ming, turning into armor — scales of liquid flame, lightning veins, rivers flowing through his sleeves.
For the first time in centuries of cultivation history, someone balanced all elements without ascension.
Li Ming clenched his fist. "Your move, firewall."
The Warden roared, conjuring an entire mountain from raw Qi and hurling it at him.
Li Ming met it with a laugh that echoed through the void. "Finally, something straightforward!"
He surged forward, fist glowing with fivefold radiance, and punched a mountain in half.
The impact shattered the realm’s horizon.
---
When the debris cleared, half the convergence was gone. The Warden knelt, its massive frame flickering, unraveling into strands of energy.
"Impossible," it rasped. "No mortal—"
"Yeah, I’ve heard that before," Li Ming said quietly. "You wanted balance? Fine. I’ll show you balance."
He lifted his hand, merging all elemental Qi into a single sphere of brilliance.
"Let’s make this official."
The Warden’s eyes widened. "You wouldn’t dare—"
Li Ming thrust the light forward — directly into its chest.
There was no explosion this time. Only radiance.
The Warden screamed — then its voice softened, dissolving into harmony as it unraveled into golden dust. Every mote of light drifted back into the realm, stitching its fractures shut.
The energy settled into Li Ming’s chest.
He could feel it — his Spiritroot no longer five separate affinities, but one singular harmony.
The Primal Harmony Root.
The realm itself trembled, then stabilized. Mountains reformed. Rivers flowed. The chaos became still.
A voice, vast yet gentle, filled the air:
"Stabilization achieved. Balance restored. Ascend, Li Ming."
Li Ming hovered in the silence, eyes reflecting endless light.
The temptation was overwhelming — the offer of true transcendence, unshackled existence.
But he smiled faintly, half-tired, half-amused.
"Sorry, Heaven. Not my style."
He flicked his wrist, channeling the Root’s essence into a single command.
> "Override: Return to Original Plane."
Reality bent. The world pulsed once. Twice.
Then everything collapsed into a tunnel of stars — and Li Ming fell, body and soul stitched back together, descending toward the world below.
---
Li Ming crashed through the sky like a falling star.
Qi rippled through clouds, lightning crackled, and somewhere below, a farmer probably made a wish and regretted it immediately.
He landed hard in the Azure Sky Sect’s main courtyard, forming a crater big enough to qualify as a training ground. Dust billowed. Disciples screamed. A formation bell started ringing like the heavens owed it rent.
"...Ow," Li Ming muttered, pushing himself up. "At least it’s not time-travel this time."
A familiar screech cut through the haze.
"You absolute menace!" Bai Guo flapped into view, feathers ruffled, eyes wide. "You vanished into a Heaven-root convergence and came back looking like a thunderstorm with legs!"
Li Ming blinked. "So you can see me."
"Barely," the bird said. "You’re glowing like an overachieving lantern."
Li Ming looked down. His robes shimmered faintly, threads of multicolored Qi flowing like rivers under his skin. Even his shadow pulsed in rhythm with the sect’s ambient energy — a living resonance.
Around him, disciples peeked out from behind pillars. Some bowed out of reflex. Others just whispered.
"Is that... Elder Li?"
"Why is the grass kneeling?"
"Wait, the mountain just lowered itself—!"
Indeed, the sect’s protective array — a formation that hadn’t bowed to anyone since the founding patriarch — was literally inclining toward him.
Li Ming exhaled. "Fantastic. I broke physics again."
---
Lan Yue arrived first, robes immaculate as always, expression carefully neutral but her Qi trembling like an overstrained bowstring. Behind her came Wu Jian, who had clearly been in the middle of a spar — shirtless, bruised, and holding a training sword upside down.
"Li ming," Lan Yue said. "The heavens flared, our formations bent, and half the spiritual beasts started chanting your name. Care to explain?"
Li Ming scratched the back of his neck. "Uh... long story short, I may have balanced all elemental roots simultaneously and accidentally reached the threshold of ascension."
Wu Jian blinked. "Accidentally?"
"Yep."
"And... you didn’t ascend?"
Li Ming shrugged. "Didn’t feel like it."
Lan Yue’s composure cracked for exactly one second. "You... refused ascension?"
"Temporary refusal," Li Ming clarified quickly. "Philosophical reasons. Also, divine bureaucracy gives me hives."
---
He looked around, realizing every cultivator in the courtyard was watching him like a deity visiting a tea shop. The air itself shimmered — Qi density spiking unnaturally. Flowers bloomed out of season. Clouds shaped themselves into polite question marks.
"Alright," Li Ming said, clapping his hands. "No need for dramatics. I’m still me."
The world disagreed.
A pulse of energy rippled outward. Every cultivator within fifty meters felt their meridians hum, their roots tremble, and their techniques improve slightly just by proximity.
The sect’s spirit lake started glowing, then evaporated into mist that re-condensed as liquid purer than before.
Bai Guo whistled. "Congratulations. You’re fertilizer."
Li Ming rubbed his temple. "That’s not comforting."
---
Lan Yue folded her arms. "Li ming... your Qi isn’t normal. It feels—"
"Balanced?" he offered.
"Everything," she corrected. "Fire, water, metal, earth, wood — even void. It’s like you’re carrying all the Dao fragments in one body."
Li Ming gave a half-smile. "Technically accurate. Heaven called it the ’Primal Harmony Root.’ Basically, I’m not mortal or immortal anymore. Just... a problem that cultivates itself."
Wu Jian raised a hand. "So... does that mean you can teach us a new cultivation art?"
"Sure," Li Ming said. "But I’m ninety percent certain it would explode your meridians, vaporize your soul, and then politely thank you for trying."
Wu Jian lowered his hand.
---
The Sect Master arrived then — a calm, silver-bearded man whose aura usually silenced storms. He landed lightly beside Li Ming, robes unruffled, eyes thoughtful.
"Li Ming," he said quietly, "your return has shaken the sect. Heaven’s resonance followed you back — even the outer world felt your descent."
Li Ming bowed slightly. "Apologies, Sect Master. I didn’t mean to cause disruption."
"Disruption?" The old man smiled faintly. "You returned from the convergence alive. That alone is miracle enough. But tell me — why did you refuse ascension?"
Li Ming paused, then answered honestly.
"Because ascension means leaving the world behind," he said softly. "And I’ve spent too long trying to fix what I break. If balance means harmony between Heaven and Earth, then someone has to stay."
The Sect Master studied him for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed — a deep, resonant sound that made the air vibrate.
"Well said," he murmured. "Perhaps that’s the truest form of enlightenment — refusing the ladder to build a bridge."
---
Before Li Ming could respond, Lei Shan scampered in — a streak of golden lightning fur with a smug grin.
"Papa! You came back! The sect’s trees keep bowing when I sneeze!"
Li Ming froze. "You’ve been sneezing?"
Lei Shan nodded proudly. "Three times! The east wing caught fire, but only a little!"
Bai Guo slapped a wing over his face. "I told you to quarantine him."
The Sect Master coughed delicately. "Perhaps... relocate him to the mountain lake?"
Lei Shan gasped. "You mean the big shiny puddle with the koi that insult me?"
"Exactly that one," Li Ming said quickly, scooping the cub up. "Come on, little thunderbub. Let’s cause less chaos."
---
As he walked through the courtyard, the energy around him continued to shift — wherever he stepped, the ground sprouted faint patterns of balance runes. Disciples meditating nearby slipped into enlightenment trances without meaning to. One fainted from over-enlightenment.
"Note to self," Li Ming muttered. "Buy suppressing talismans. Lots of them."
"Buy me snacks first," Lei Shan mumbled.
"You’re still grounded for combusting architecture."
"Unfair! Heaven said I’m divine!"
"Divine doesn’t mean flammable, Lei Shan."
---
Later that night, Li Ming stood on the main peak, watching the stars. The sect had finally settled — mostly because everyone had passed out from overexposure to his aura. Bai Guo perched beside him, unusually quiet.
"So," the bird said after a while, "you’re basically Heaven’s patch file now. What’s next?"
Li Ming smiled faintly. "Cultivate. Teach. Maybe nap."
Bai Guo tilted his head. "You turned down ascension for a nap?"
Li Ming’s gaze drifted toward the horizon, where dawn began to shimmer. "For the right kind of peace, I’d turn down eternity."
The bird clicked his beak. "That’s poetic. I hate it."
Li Ming chuckled. "Good. That means I’m still me."
Above them, the sky shimmered once — faintly acknowledging his choice — and then fell still. For the first time in what felt like centuries, the heavens were quiet.
And in the stillness, Li Ming smiled.
To be continued...