Love Travels through Time (My father who traveled through time and space to cultivate immortality came back to pick me up) - Chapter 15
Chapter 15: Black Hair Penetrates Destiny
“Master?”
Xiang Tianqing called softly when she saw him spacing out.
Yin Changli snapped back to reality, withdrew his hand, and sat cross-legged in meditation.
“Thank you again, but this humble monk needs rest now. Please do as you wish, young lady.”
Just as Xiang Tianqing was about to speak, he had already closed his eyes.
Yin Changli had no time for further words.
Having just taken control of this body, he needed to suppress the original owner, Dao Chen’s consciousness.
Dao Chen’s lifebound sword had been protecting him all along, making it impossible for Yin Changli to devour him outright—he could only forcefully suppress him.
The slightest lapse in focus, and Dao Chen might seize control again.
Feeling somewhat wronged, Xiang Tianqing sat alone in a corner.
Meanwhile, Xiang Haikui was swinging her Tian Kuang Sword until she was utterly exhausted.
The stab she had dealt Dao Chen had drained ninety percent of her strength, and she was injured on top of that.
Her opponent, Wumian, was a sixth-rank cultivator at full stamina.
The dozen or so guards were no pushovers either.
The tribal chief and his men wielded ancient forbidden spells, making it hard to keep up.
The Tianbao Twin Swords were like Lei Gong’s hammer—when the short sword clashed against the long one, “BANG! BANG! BANG!”—blinding flashes erupted, searing the eyes of anyone who dared look.
(T/N: The Chinese Thunder God, a deity who strikes lightning with his hammer/chisel)
Moreover, Bai Xingxian didn’t hold back, unleashing grand divine powers.
Aside from the Tian kuang Sword, everyone else’s artifact treasures and artifacts malfunctioned.
The malfunction was temporary, but it was enough for Xiang Haikui to knock them all flat.
Only Wu Mian remained standing.
His fists relied on his own cultivation, unaffected by the Tianbao Swords.
“You damn wench, you’ve got some skills, no wonder you tricked my master!”
Xiang Haikui saw him raise his fists—one swirling with wind, the other blazing with fire—and knew he was about to go for the kill.
Truthfully, she didn’t want to fight Wu Mian to the death.
The guy was impulsive, hot-tempered, and brainless, but he genuinely cared about her father.
After all, her father had raised him—he was practically her half-brother.
“Are you blind? I fight this well—doesn’t that prove I’m my father’s daughter? What part of me looks like a seductress?”
“And let’s get this straight—it wasn’t me who wanted to summon the Mirage Demon, it was Dao Chen!”
Hearing this, the tribal chief, lying on the ground half-dead, suddenly jolted upright as if resurrected.
“D-don’t you dare slander the master!”
The trembling, hoarse shout made Xiang Haikui’s head throb.
Explanations were useless.
Just as Dao Chen had said, the foundation he’d painstakingly built here couldn’t be shaken by an outsider like her, the so-called “Second Young Miss.”
No matter how well-liked Dao Chen was, he couldn’t compare to her father, the great city lord guarding the border.
Wu Mian gathered his power and roared, “Enough nonsense! Today, I’ll bury all of you in the desert!”
Lu Xiqiao had already taken advantage of the chaos to retrieve his formation disk.
Hugging the snake jar, he muttered, “The louder a dog barks, the less bite it has.”
Take himself, for example.
On the other hand, someone like Xiang Haikui—who wore her hair in a cute bun with colorful feathers pinned at her temples, looking like a little parrot—turned out to be a wild wolf in disguise.
So deceptive.
“I’ll kill you first!”
Wu Mian snarled, throwing a punch.
Damn it, he’d had enough of this bastard!
Twin fists of wind and fire shot out, a blazing cyclone hurtling straight toward Lu Xiqiao.
Xiang Haikui swung her sword, the force diverting the attack midair.
“Let’s see how many more strikes you’ve got left.”
Wu Mian, a seasoned fighter, could tell Xiang Haikui was nearing her limit.
Just as he prepared to strike again, a strange sound caught his attention.
Xiang Haikui heard it too—it was familiar.
Earlier, when Lu Xiqiao’s feet had been stuck in the sand, she’d stabbed downward, and this same eerie noise had come from beneath the dunes.
First, it had eaten Lu Xiqiao’s camel beast, then trapped him, probably waiting to digest before consuming him.
Now, it was back for another meal.
Or was it seeking revenge?
If it was revenge, its eyesight was terrible—it had the wrong person.
The sand beneath Wu Mian’s feet suddenly collapsed, a powerful suction dragging him into a sinkhole!
Lu Xiqiao’s eyes widened.
“That’s how my camel beast disappeared!”
“What the hell is that?!”
Wu Mian struggled desperately.
Having grown up in the desert, he’d never encountered such a monster.
The scattered bodies on the ground also stared in horror.
Xiang Haikui was equally shocked.
Her Tiankuang Sword trembled in her grip—excited.
Earlier, Tiankuang hadn’t considered this thing worth its time.
But now, its attitude had changed.
Had it evolved?
With renewed vigor, Xiang Haikui got excited too.
She pulled the same trick—breaking her limits for another round of madness.
Without hesitation, she leaped into the sinkhole, hooked Tiankuang under Wu Mian, gritted her teeth, and with a grunt, flung him out.
Wu Mian crashed onto the sand, stunned.
Had… had that seductress just saved him?
A seductress—no, a real fox demon!
In that split second, he’d seen it—her eyes had narrowed, slanting upward, her pupils turning violet, lashes thick and curled, mesmerizingly bewitching!
Yet, there was a heroic sharpness in her brows, so much like Master.
Wu Mian’s heart pounded wildly, his mind in chaos, as Xiang Haikui climbed out of the sinkhole.
The creature, seemingly unwilling to fight Tiankuang, fled the moment it lost its prey.
Now, the group stood awkwardly.
Should they keep fighting?
Wu Mian got up, telling himself not to be fooled, and clenched his fists again.
Just as he was about to regain his momentum, a distant “Amitabha” echoed.
Including Xiang Haikui, everyone froze.
Looking into the distance, they saw “Master Dao Chen” returning—on foot, followed by a camel beast carrying Xiang Tianqing.
Xiang Haikui tensed and whispered to Lu Xiqiao, “Guard that jar.”
Lu Xiqiao quickly pulled out a strange pouch from his storage bracelet, sealed the jar inside, and cast a locking spell.
“Relax, unless I die, no one can open this.”
Xiang Haikui: “But killing you would be way too easy.”
“What happened here?” Xiang Tianqing gasped at the sight of the “corpses” strewn about and the tension between Wu Mian and Xiang Haikui.
She hurried off the camel to intervene.
Xiang Haikui tattled: “Sis, Third Senior Brother insists I’m some seductress who seduced Dad and wants to kill me.”
Knowing the truth, Xiang Tianqing paused, then scolded Wu Mian: “You won’t listen to Dad, but you’ll believe rumors?”
“I—” Facing Xiang Tianqing, Wu Mian had no temper left.
He was starting to doubt himself.
But Second Senior Brother had confirmed she wasn’t their master’s real daughter and that she was here to harm him.
Earlier, when he’d asked Xiang Tianqing why the two didn’t look like sisters, she’d acted like they weren’t to begin with.
“Regardless, she attacked Master Dao Chen and teamed up with the Lu family to unleash an ancient Mirage Demon!”
Wu Mian glared at Dao Chen.
The tribal chief struggled to his feet, also looking at Dao Chen with concern.
“Master, your condition—”
Yin Changli had followed a vague memory here.
After hearing bits and pieces, he’d pieced together the situation.
Mimicking a monk’s gesture, he clasped his hands.
“Actually, this is all just a misunderstanding.”
Xiang Haikui was baffled.
This scumbag had clearly recovered—he could’ve just come back and condemned her.
Why the sudden change?
“What misunderstanding?” Wu Mian demanded.
“Simply a misunderstanding.”
The less said, the better.
Yin Changli glanced at Xiang Haikui, lips quirking slightly.
“Isn’t that right, Miss Xiang?”
“Heaveb—” That smile made Xiang Haikui feel like pits were exploding around her.
One wrong step, and she’d fall right in.
This spine-chilling sensation—she’d only ever felt it around her boss before.
Bai Xingxian also retracted the Tianbao Sword, scratching his head as he studied Yin Changli.
“Y-yeah, just a misunderstanding!”
Lu Xiqiao was the first to react.
“Mm, all is well.”
Yin Changli chanted a Buddhist phrase, smiling as he turned away.
He needed to return to the Buddhist caves outside Silver Sand City—Dao Chen’s usual haunt.
Maybe he could extract some memories there.
“Master.”
Xiang Tianqing offered her camel.
“Take mine. I’ll ride with my senior brother.”
“Many thanks.”
Yin Changli really didn’t want to walk.
The farce came to an end.
The group rode their camels back to Silver Sand City.
Seeing how dangerous the desert was, Lu Xiqiao dropped his obsession with conquering the Mirage Demon.
Riding with Xiang Haikui, he chattered nonstop: “Sister Kui, the moment I saw you draw your sword on the airship, I knew you were no ordinary person.”
Xiang Haikui scoffed.
“Oh really? I remember you sending your lackeys to hunt me down after I kicked you, cursing, ‘Your mom!’”
(T/N: F*ck you)
“You misheard! I said, ‘My mom’s—’ I sent them to thank you!”
Lu Xiqiao swore, switching the jar to his other hand and flashing his storage bracelet.
“And now you’ve saved me again. Sister Kui, pick anything you like!”
Bai Xingxian urged his camel closer.
“Young Master Lu, do you have many treasures?”
Lu Xiqiao puffed up proudly.
“Of course! The Lu family lacks nothing—except virtue.”
Bai Xingxian’s eyes sparkled.
“Can I take a look? If there’s anything Tianbao hasn’t eaten, I’ll trade you. I’ve got plenty of treasures too.”
Lu Xiqiao handed the snake jar to Xiang Haikui and switched mounts to ride with Bai Xingxian.
Finally, peace.
As the camel jostled along, Xiang Haikui held the jar and glanced back at the leisurely “master.”
After stitching the little black snake’s severed parts with Buddhist needles and her hair, it had self-frozen.
Was there a connection?
Probably not.
She’d asked Bai Xingxian earlier.
His explanation matched her guess—the hair from one’s crown indeed carried yang energy and vitality.
Dao Chen likely hadn’t wanted the snake to die too quickly—save it first, then kill it.
She slowed her camel, waiting until Yin Changli drew even, then transmitted her voice:
“Dao Chen, I know I can’t shake your influence in Silver Sand. But from now on, for every day you refuse to leave, I’ll be watching you.”
She’d find an excuse to move into his caves.
“Don’t even think about causing more trouble.”
She narrowed her eyes in warning.
His gaze swept past her blue scarf, lingering on the feathers at her temples—his pupils flickered.
Then, he stared at her messy bun, disheveled from the fight.
Terrible hair quality.
That look—was it disdain?
Xiang Haikui then noticed him eyeing the long hair of some women in the tribal party.
She smirked.
“Had to shave your head to play the merciful monk, so now you’re jealous of others’ hair?”
Though he’d forgotten much, he knew he’d once been on the brink of death.
The sensation of dying had been like sinking into an icy abyss—body stiff, panic dragging him down.
But suddenly, a dense, vibrant mass of seaweed—like a sun-warmed quilt in early spring—had cushioned his fall.
Gentle, careful, it had carried him back to shore.
He suspected that “seaweed” had been a woman’s hair.
And the woman with hair like seaweed… might be his—
