Investing in the Reborn Empress, She Actually Calls Me ‘Husband’

The light of the Jiangshan Sheji Diagram was a chaotic blur, yet where the crimson radiance shone, it seemed as though even this Dao artifact had cracked open, the fissures flickering like lightning.

Layers of crimson light spread in all directions, transforming from sparks into surging tides, growing ever more turbulent.

“Holy shit…”

A startled exclamation rose from among the monks of Xuankong Temple.

Murong Xiao, who had just returned, froze. Who had spoken?

After a quick glance, he realized it was the red-faced, flustered old monk Hengyuan, who had finally lost his composure.

Did Master just… break his vow?

“Master, your tone was impeccably clear just now.”

“……” Hengyuan fell silent for a moment before realizing he had indeed broken his vow. No more sign language from now on.

And no more being rendered speechless with rage by Murong Xiao—like that incident with installing a rotating handle on the wooden fish.

The old monk had a bellyful of words he wanted to say to his disciple.

But before he could speak, Murong Xiao asked again:

“Master, you’ve always been so composed. Why were you so startled just now?”

“Young Li… has attained a Dharmakaya.”

Staring at the Jiangshan Sheji Diagram, the old monk’s urge to settle scores with his disciple faded considerably.

“Dharmakaya? Brother Li jumped straight from the Third Realm to the Sixth?”

“For now, yes.”

“How is that possible?”

Murong Xiao’s jaw dropped. He never expected that just as he caught sight of Brother Li’s back, before he could even think of chasing him, Li had already ascended to the heavens in a single step.

“…What realm is your master in again?”

“The Fifth Realm. Master, are you getting forgetful like the Abbot…?”

“Exactly! If you know I’m in the Fifth Realm, why the hell are you asking me?!”

Unable to provide guidance, Hengyuan settled for pointing an accusing finger at his rebellious disciple.

Thankfully, the old monk didn’t know any dialects, or he might have replaced “your master” with something far less dignified.

Murong Xiao scratched his head and turned to Huaikong beside him.

The Abbot’s eyes were sharp yet filled with sorrow, none of his usual forgetful confusion present.

“The Inner Realm is the manifestation of one’s heartscape, while the Outer Realm is the materialization of that inner vision, turning illusions into reality.”

Huaikong chanted a Buddhist mantra, enlightening the crowd.

As he spoke, he casually plucked a flower—an illusion blooming at his fingertips.

One flower, one world—this was his Inner Realm.

Then, with a flick of his finger, the flower blossomed vividly, swaying in an unfelt breeze, its fragrance faint yet tangible, indistinguishable from a real flower save for its ethereal glow.

This was the process of first projecting the heartscape outward, then solidifying it into the Outer Realm.

“And the Dharmakaya is the fusion of the Outer Realm with one’s own body, merging the soul’s divine wonders into the flesh—a unity of spirit and body. The method varies depending on the nature of the Realm, but there are generally several approaches.”

“The most radical and perilous is to shatter the Outer Realm within oneself, breaking it to rebuild it anew. Typically, only martial artists with indomitable physiques dare attempt this.”

Whoosh—

The flower, after blooming, suddenly disintegrated midair, its energy exploding into ripples across the void.

Though Huaikong restrained the destructive force, its terrifying power was still evident.

“But Brother Li doesn’t even have an Outer Realm yet?”

“He possesses something far more perfect and transcendent than an Outer Realm. That’s why, by sheer serendipity, he achieved this state.”

“Then what divine wonders does his Dharmakaya possess?” Murong Xiao’s eyes gleamed with hope. The mysteries of the Dharmakaya might still offer Li a way out.

“It has none.”

“Huh?”

“The divine wonder of his Dharmakaya is the absence of divine wonders. If he survives this ordeal and truly solidifies this Dharmakaya in the future…”

Huaikong clasped his hands and murmured, “All phenomena return to mundanity; all paths dissolve into emptiness. All conditioned existence is like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow.”

“That sounds incredibly profound.”

“Fine, let’s cut the cryptic talk. In plain terms, Young Li’s Dharmakaya can reduce all divine wonders—including his own—to mere mundanity. To defeat him, one must rely solely on physical strength.”

“Holy shit, doesn’t that make Brother Li invincible?!”

Murong Xiao’s excitement quickly turned to worry. “But first… Brother Li has to survive this calamity…”

He rubbed his bald head and pulled out the scroll Li had given him—the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva’s Fundamental Vows Sutra.

If he could fully comprehend this scripture, might he unlock the secrets of life, death, and reincarnation?

……

Mocheng.

The city had become one of the few sanctuaries amidst the celestial calamity, just as during the last disaster. Everywhere, Mocheng’s people—marked by the Blade-Catcher insignia—were busy fulfilling their duties.

No one even had time to eat, but as the saying goes, you can’t make the ox plow without feeding it grass.

“Bleh, bleh… why does the grass suddenly taste so awful?”

Dong Geyu spat out the grass in his mouth, then froze in shock.

“Old Tiezhu, you’ve turned back into a human?”

“Huh?”

Qi Tiezhu looked down at himself in confusion, confirming that he had indeed regained his human form. He muttered, “How strange. Then why don’t I find the grass disgusting?”

“I’ve changed back too.”

“Everyone’s turned back!”

“Wahhh, I thought I’d be a cow-headed monster forever!”

“Wahhh, I never even got to taste my own milk!”

“Dumbass, you’re a bull. Where would you get milk?”

Amid the clamor of relief and bewilderment, Dong Ao returned with good news—the volcano threatening Mocheng had ceased its eruptions.

“This is bizarre. Even the celestial calamity has weakened. What in the world happened?”

After exchanging glances, they all recalled the same thing.

Earlier, a blinding crimson light had suddenly filled the sky.

They climbed the city walls and gazed at the colossal Dharmakaya towering between heaven and earth, the crimson radiance spreading wildly across the wilderness. For a long time, no one spoke.

……

Another lunar orb shot straight into the heavens, its passage dissolving draconic might effortlessly as it streaked toward the bronze-entwined moon—or more precisely, the phoenix silhouette perched upon it.

“This queen is the mother of the realm—only I deserve to be the phoenix!”

A phoenix’s cry pierced the clouds.

She finally emerged from the sun, the nine dragons coiling into her palm and transforming into a gilded serpent-whip. A single lash dictated the laws of heaven and earth, imposing order upon chaos.

Yet the lunar orb suddenly turned intangible.

What seemed like a strike from the whip was, in truth, the orb passing straight through it.

In the end, it flew straight into Ying Bing’s forehead.

The glow at her brow extended several inches, her divine markings becoming as solid as her now-open eyes.

Cold as a deity, profound and unfathomable.

Chu Ge’s mind quaked violently, cracks like porcelain spreading across her face. She staggered back, disbelief in her voice:

“Only now… are you truly yourself?”

It struck her—until this moment, the one before her had still been Ying Bing. Ying Huang had not yet awakened within her.

Now, the real her had arrived.

Chu Ge had imagined countless times what it would be like to stand before her. Only now did she realize she had never truly faced her.

Yes.

That gaze was beyond mere indifference, for even detachment was an emotion.

She was like the heavens themselves—locking eyes with her shattered all mental defenses, reducing one to a pheasant deluded into thinking itself a phoenix.

“Ahhh!!”

Chu Ge’s once-exquisite face now resembled shattered porcelain, spiderweb fractures racing across it. She turned and fled, terrified that a moment’s delay would strip her of this skin entirely.

“I am but a mere wisp of thought—how could I speak of revival…?”

Seeing this, Ying Bing shook her head and did not pursue. Instead, she turned her gaze toward the great sun.

The ancient bronze tree seed in her palm emitted a chaotic halo of light, its profound aura surging, faintly restoring the full majesty of a Heavenly Fate Artifact.

Drawn by this force, the great sun began drifting toward the bronze ancient tree.

The two fragmented domains of the Heavenly Phoenix were now merging into one.

Countless bolts of lightning erupted in the void, painting a terrifying scene reminiscent of the world’s primordial dawn.

Through the layers of creation and destruction, Ying Bing seemed to sense something. Her distant, melancholic gaze turned back.

There, in his Law Manifestation form, stood Li Mo—covered in blood, yet still smiling at her.

Was it because the system had just notified him of a successful investment?

Or was it because he genuinely felt joy for this ice-cold woman?

Perhaps it was both.

Ying Bing froze for a moment, then raised a hand to her cheek—only to find the lingering warmth of tears.

She didn’t know when she had started crying. Nor did she understand why this unfamiliar ache in her heart rose like a relentless tide.