Love Travels through Time (My father who traveled through time and space to cultivate immortality came back to pick me up) - Chapter 97
Chapter 97: The Touchstone
Lu Xiqiao froze for a moment.
“Could it be a protective restriction?”
Capable elders typically leave a sliver of their power within the consciousness realm of their juniors, capable of blocking a single lethal blow at a critical moment.
Those who are even stronger can immediately lock onto the junior’s location and rush over to save them.
Conversely, if an elder suffers a critical blow beyond their capacity to bear, the junior might be dragged into it as well.
“That can’t be, right? People in this world capable of severely injuring your uncle can be counted on one hand!”
Lu Xiqiao was trying to think of who could possibly do it when he suddenly remembered that Xiang Haikui was together with Yin Changli.
“If even Senior Yin is no match for them, then Sister Kui…?!”
He, too, felt the world spin around him.
Slapping Bai Xingxian’s back forcefully, he urged, “Quickly, try and see if you can trace your uncle’s consciousness in reverse! We need to hurry over and rescue them!”
Bai Xingxian was already dizzy, and the hard slaps almost made him throw up.
“If I leave now, what about this place…?”
“What could possibly be more important than your uncle’s and Sister Kui’s lives?!”
Anxious, Lu Xiqiao was practically on the verge of poking him in the nose and cursing him as an ungrateful traitor.
“Has reclaiming your father’s throne become more important than anything else to you now?!”
“Of course not!”
Bai Xingxian was so furious that his headache lessened considerably.
“It was just a random guess of mine! How could my uncle fall into danger so easily? Besides, I don’t think my uncle ever left a protective restriction in my sea of consciousness. My father was still alive when I was born—if anyone left a protective barrier, shouldn’t it be him?”
Lu Xiqiao scratched his scalp, thinking that made sense.
Supporting himself by his knees, Bai Xingxian stood up straight.
“It’s much more likely an old injury acting up. After all, your medical skills are still in the trial-and-error stage—no matter where the injury is, you just force-feed me a mountain of Jianmu power.”
After the the two fruits merged, Yin Changli gave Lu Xiqiao a book on medicine and a manual on poisons.
Now, with medicine in one hand and poison in the other, he was searching for the balance point between the two.
Realizing he had been impulsive, Lu Xiqiao immediately put on a flattering smile.
“Brother Bai, don’t be angry. Haven’t I been going through hell and back with you lately? I’m just too exhausted, so my temper was bound to get a bit short.”
Bai Xingxian was furious.
Any voice that questioned whether he would act against his uncle after the return of his Inspiration made him angry.
Yet, on second thought, his anger dissipated, and his heart warmed slightly.
Over these past days, he had likewise witnessed Lu Xiqiao’s changes.
Watching this guy—who was originally so kind he was practically naive—weigh self-interest more and more heavily in his heart, Bai Xingxian hadn’t been able to tell how much genuine friendship was still left in him.
Judging by Lu Xiqiao’s reaction just now, he could measure it clearly now.
At the same time, he blamed himself for having entertained such thoughts.
He shouldn’t blame Lu Xiqiao for questioning him, nor should he blame any of the voices that doubted him.
As his uncle had taught him, whether others trusted him or not didn’t depend on their gaze, but on his own ability—it was his own problem.
Ten thousand miles away, on a mountain peak shrouded in drifting clouds, Han Qi was leisurely playing the zither.
Star Slave stood behind him, reporting on the situation on the island.
“Master, we failed again this time.”
It was an expected outcome.
Han Qi smiled slightly.
“Very good.”
Star Slave hesitated before asking, “Does Master keep letting him win on purpose because you want to lull him into a false sense of security?”
Han Qi shook his head.
“You’re overthinking it. I’m simply letting him win.”
Star Slave let out a small “Ah,” finding herself even more unable to figure out why.
Lord Changli had Bai Xingxian step forward to win over these minor clans as cannon fodder.
While these small clans were insignificant when scattered, if they truly gathered together, they would form a force that could not be understated.
When Lord Changli went to rescue those Shanhai prisoners, wouldn’t that be adding wings to a tiger?
Wasn’t this precisely what Master worried about the most?
Star Slave stole a glance at her master. Beneath his bright, cheerful smile, there seemed to hide a shade of melancholy?
She recalled the last time her master moved against Qi Yin, only to fail miserably.
Everything had been meticulously prepared; the only oversight was failing to anticipate that Que Chi, a vicious beast, would still carry affection for the bond between master and disciple in his heart.
“Has Master… been persuaded by Lord Changli?” Star Slave gathered her courage to ask.
“Are you also starting to feel that those Shanhai prisoners might not necessarily…”
The sound of the zither stopped abruptly.
Han Qi’s smile faded.
“No. The existence of the Shanhai beast clan is absolutely a Sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of us humans.”
Star Slave asked, “Then…”
Han Qi shifted his tone.
“However, Bai Xingxian’s sudden ‘appearance’ made me realize that I have always underestimated Brother Changli’s vision. He won’t release prisoners who are hard to control, nor does he intend to take blood-drenched revenge on the Celestial Clan. Instead, he wants to push Bai Xingxian onto the throne, hoping to exchange the smallest price for peace among all clans.”
He stood up, facing the deep valley, the mountain breeze whipping his sleeves.
“Brother Changli having Bai Xingxian win over these minor clans is to train Bai Xingxian and pave the way for him. At the same time, it was also meant specifically for me to see…”
To see Bai Xingxian’s capability and character clearly and to mock his own narrow-mindedness through it.
He should stop using the interests of the human race as an excuse to employ unprincipled means.
In the end, the person who could secure the greatest interests and long-term peace for humanity was Yin Changli, not Han Qi.
“I even suspect that supreme world-destroying artifact doesn’t exist at all. Even if it did, it wouldn’t be a weapon of slaughter.”
Han Qi’s mood lately had truly been complicated beyond belief.
He had always thought that the conflict between him and Yin Changli was merely a clash of stances, but it wasn’t.
Yin Changli had once said that even without a conflict of stances, the two of them could never become close friends because he wasn’t worthy—and that turned out to be true.
“To think I was so aggressive before. Looking back now, it’s truly…”
Star Slave understood, and she also saw the dejection in her master.
For her master, losing to Lord Changli—and losing so thoroughly—was indeed a heavy blow.
“But you can’t be blamed. Why didn’t he tell you directly before?”
Han Qi looked at the sky and shook his head.
“Because Brother Changli knew I wouldn’t believe him, and he couldn’t casually reveal Bai Xingxian’s existence. Furthermore, he himself probably wasn’t entirely certain what kind of person Bai Xingxian would become after his Inspiration returned.”
As it turned out, he had taught him exceedingly well.
Star Slave asked, “Then what does Master plan to do now?”
Turn coat and help Bai Xingxian?
If everything Master guessed was true, this path would undoubtedly benefit all clans, except the Celestial Clan.
It could be considered making amends for past mistakes—a golden opportunity to turn back.
If he continued to help the Emperor, all of Master’s previous actions claimed to be “for humanity” would become a slap in the face.
Yet Star Slave could feel her master’s unwillingness to accept defeat.
Her heart trembled slightly.
Could it be that when her master acted in the past, it wasn’t out of helplessness after all?
The questioning look from his disciple made Han Qi feel quite embarrassed, leaving him momentarily unsure of his own mindset.
He sat back down and plucked a string on the zither.
“In truth, I haven’t lost to Brother Changli completely. His idea sounds wonderful, but implementation is hardly that simple. Even if I switch sides and join forces with him to support Bai Xingxian, the spell arrays holding those Shanhai prisoners won’t be easy to breach.”
This war of attrition alone would make a clear winner hard to determine.
Stealing the array disc was already out of the question—Han Qi had alerted the enemy last time, so the Emperor was bound to be on guard against him now.
Furthermore, the Shanhai clan was no longer what it used to be. Their numbers were less than a tenth of what they once were, and they lacked many ruthless powerhouses—such as Yin Changli’s father, as well as ferocious beasts like Hundun that Yin Changli had no intention of releasing.
Without a true world-destroying artifact, winning against the Celestial Clan would be anything but easy.
As the “alpha wolf,” the Emperor had always enjoyed immense prestige among the Celestial Clan; he wasn’t someone a mere Bai Xingxian could shake.
Although the crushing defeat at Bian City was embarrassing, the Emperor had just returned from crossing his tribulation at the time, which made it understandable.
Besides, it took place in the Underworld, so the people of the Celestial Clan hadn’t witnessed it with their own eyes…
While Han Qi was contemplating, a streak of light shot through the clouds with a *whoosh*.
Star Slave caught it in her hand—it was a jade slip. Scanning inside with her divine sense, she said in shock, “Master, something has happened in the upper realm!”
Han Qi: “Hmm?”
“That Miss Xiang…”
When mentioning Xiang Haikui, a hint of admiration showed in Star Slave’s eyes.
“She charged up to the Celestial Realm and snatched the array disc…”
Hearing that Xiang Haikui had seized the array disc but chose not to activate it when given the chance, Han Qi knew he had guessed correctly—Yin Changli indeed did not intend to release prisoners who were difficult to control.
Immediately, a look of suspicion crossed his face.
Based on his understanding of Xiang Haikui, her disregard for rules was actually a mindset of “indifference.”
To put it bluntly, she didn’t have a single bit of regard for the bigger picture or moral rectitude; she loved whoever loved her, and everything else was as transient as floating clouds.
Rescuing Qi Yin should be her top priority right now, yet under these circumstances, she could endure and refrain from touching the array disc—not because she feared world chaos, but to protect Yin Changli’s lifelong ideal.
“It seems Brother Changli’s situation is dire.”
Han Qi furrowed his brows tightly.
“An unforeseen major event must have occurred, completely disrupting Brother Changli’s pace—far more serious than any time before.”
Star Slave took a breath.
“What kind of major event could it be?”
“Since it’s beyond expectations, how could I possibly guess it?”
Han Qi looked up, seeing the dim starlight across the firmament.
“Ten days…”
Yet another fork in the road where a choice must be made.
Five consecutive days passed, and nothing happened.
Xiang Haikui became increasingly calm.
The more relaxed her state was, the tighter Jing Ran’s nerves wound, staring at her every move with his divine sense.
To an onlooker, he looked remarkably like a venomous snake lurking in the dark after locking onto its prey, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
But the reality was quite the opposite. At this moment, he was the prey and Xiang Haikui was the venomous snake—he had to stay on guard at all times.
Having suffered from hunger too often in the past, Xiang Haikui had never developed the habit of inedia to this day.
After five days without food, she felt a hypoglycemic panic.
Fortunately, she had plenty of stock. After eating some dried venison prepared for her by Bai Xingxian, she still wanted to eat something warm.
In her jade box were some pre-made bread doughs, so she pulled out her alchemy furnace and adeptly baked one.
The heat was controlled impeccably. When the vanilla bread came out of the furnace, the fragrance filled the air.
Jing Ran watched the entire process, terrified she might play a trick.
Yet this aroma felt mysteriously familiar to him, to the point that his mind wandered from time to time.
It wasn’t until he saw the final shape of the bread that he suddenly remembered—during his tribulation in the human realm, he often bought it for breakfast.
Jing Ran froze slightly.
Earlier, she had said that during those years, she often watched him from behind.
It turned out she hadn’t just been watching; she would also eat the food he liked and could even make it herself.
The scent was almost identical, and he believed the taste wouldn’t differ much either.
Like a gentle breeze rippling across the water’s surface, a chord in his heart was touched, and his cold, harsh facial lines gradually softened.
Though separated by a great distance, Xiang Haikui treated him entirely as air.
Sensing his intense gaze fixed on the bread in her hand, she was also taken aback for a moment, and a sudden wave of nausea hit her stomach.
Force of habit—too many habits were tied to him.
Discarding it now would be too obvious. Xiang Haikui raised her arm and tossed the thing in her hand over to him.
“What, didn’t you say life on Earth felt surreal?”
Before his brain could process a reaction, Jing Ran’s hand involuntarily reached out.
A gentle warmth instantly spread from his palm through his whole body.
Looking down at the pastry in his palm, even his gaze grew unusually tender.
The days of reincarnating through tribulations indeed lacked reality, but as the beloved scent flooded his nostrils, it felt as though memories buried deep within his cells had been awakened.
Just as he was about to take a bite, he suddenly recalled the lollipop he had once handed to Xiang Haikui.
After a brief lapse, he broke out in a cold sweat.
Xiang Haikui was initially cursing herself, but sensing his drastic reaction, she felt puzzled for a moment before bursting into laughter.
“What, scared that I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine, playing the emotional card to poison you?”
Jing Ran gritted his teeth.
Tch, Xiang Haikui wished she could, but unfortunately, she had no poison capable of bringing him down.
Though filled with regret, she couldn’t lose face verbally.
“If I did that, Tian kuang would look down on me!”
The sword box beside her trembled. It was Tian kuang bouncing inside the box, as if echoing Xiang Haikui’s words.
The item in Jing Ran’s hand was fiercely crushed into a lump.
He said sternly, “Half of the ten days have already passed, and Yin Changli hasn’t made a single move. Can you still sit still?”
“Seeing how you can’t sit still, I feel like I could sit for another hundred years.”
Xiang Haikui put away her alchemy furnace and resumed meditating.
Jing Ran slowly unclasped his hand, and the crumpled bread gradually regained its elasticity.
Did she make this item so suddenly just to avenge herself through “shared empathy”?
Jing Ran began to recall every detail of her time spent by his side.
The person beside him was the person in his heart but also someone who could use and harm him at any moment.
How she felt back then—it seemed he could somewhat empathize now.
His heart, which had been broken once before, seemed to crack open again with a sharp, wrenching pain.
No, he was almost bewitched by her!
Golden flames ignited in Jing Ran’s pupils, and he arrived before her like a whirlwind.
Xiang Haikui reacted with lightning speed.
Before he could grab her wrist, she picked up her sword box and leaped half a zhang away from him, barely suppressing the urge to draw her sword.
“Don’t forget the bet between us!”
Jing Ran closed in on her.
“This isn’t the same!”
Xiang Haikui had no idea what he was talking about.
Jing Ran spoke with righteous conviction.
“You want to kill me now, but I care about you, and I’ve never thought of harming you. It’s completely different!”
What kind of nonsense was this?
It took Xiang Haikui quite a while to understand what he meant by “different.” It seemed he had misunderstood her sudden decision to eat as an intentional act to retaliate against him.
“I don’t want to talk about ‘harm’ with you; let’s just talk about your so-called ‘care.'”
Xiang Haikui stared at the golden flames in his pupils.
“Do you even understand what ‘caring’ means?”
“Don’t I understand? Did you see this golden lotus!” Jing Ran pointed at the ground beneath their feet.
Back when they were by the Soul-Nourishing Pool, she had nearly suffered qi deviation and succumbed to heart demons. After Jing Ran realized she couldn’t suppress the frantic, violent power of Tian kuang, he had secretly sent people to search for a treasure.
“I searched for this golden lotus originally to help you suppress Tian kuang and aid you in crossing tribulations and Joining the Dao in the future! And what is the result?”
The emotions suppressed deep in his heart burst through the dam, making his chest heave violently.
“To think that after getting my hands on the golden lotus, it would first be used for myself to eradicate the Tian kuang sword aura you left in my heart meridians!”
Xiang Haikui was slightly taken aback.
Looking at this golden lotus, she only felt a chill run down her spine.
If a man didn’t care about you at all, harming you would be one thing.
Yet he could carry out “pampering” and “poisoning” at the same time without the slightest flicker of emotion—wasn’t that terrifying?
Xiang Haikui looked at his furious expression: “Then let me ask you a question.”
Jing Ran closed his eyes, controlling his emotions.
“Speak.”
Xiang Haikui questioned, “When you personally send the woman you ‘care about’ to carry the seed of your arch-nemesis Yin Changli, isn’t there even a single bit of resentment in your heart?”
Jing Ran sneered, “Do you think I am a common mortal of the secular world?”
“Is that so?” Xiang Haikui questioned sharply.
“Then after I marry you, if I sleep with different men every day and make your head glow green, you won’t care either?”
Jing Ran’s lips twitched.
He opened his mouth several times, but ultimately bit his teeth shut tight.
Xiang Haikui shouted sternly, “So then, claiming over and over that you care about me—what you care about is your own damn ass!”
Having said that, she walked to a distance, sat down, and resumed meditating.
If she kept talking, she really wouldn’t be able to hold back from drawing her sword.
Jing Ran stood in place for a long time, so enraged by her scolding that he couldn’t smooth out his breathing for a while.
…
Another three days passed.
Becoming increasingly restless, Jing Ran made a decision.
He stood up and said to Xiang Haikui, “Do you dare to go to a place with me?”
Xiang Haikui kept her eyes closed.
“Where?”
Jing Ran: “Out of the palace.”
Xiang Haikui: “Not going.”
“I am actively taking you out; it won’t count as you escaping.”
“Still not going.”
Only two days were left, so it was better to avoid unnecessary trouble.
Xiang Haikui shook her head, “Unless it’s Han Qi’s Star-Gathering Palace, I’m not going anywhere else.”
“With me present, do you think you can escape from the ceiling well?” Jing Ran truly wasn’t afraid of taking her to the ceiling well.
“Fine, I will take you to Han Qi’s place first, and then you will come with me to another place.”
Xiang Haikui hesitated for a moment, then agreed. Scouting the path first would be a good thing anyway.
“Will anyone come to assassinate you along the way, forcing me to draw my sword?”
Jing Ran held his composure.
“When setting the bet, you already said that such situations don’t count.”
“Is that so?” Xiang Haikui thought about it, and she indeed had said that.
“This isn’t Bian City; the Celestial Realm isn’t a place just anyone can enter.”
Jing Ran flew down from the golden lotus.
Xiang Haikui followed Jing Ran and boarded a magnificent immortal carriage, its frame carved with sunbirds, every detail displaying his noble status.
The two sat separately on the left and right sides. Just as they were about to drive out of the palace gates, a line of armored guards happened to return to the palace from patrolling the Royal Capital, immediately standing on both sides like the guards at the gate.
The leader clasped his fists.
“Emperor.”
The immortal carriage stopped, and Jing Ran asked through the curtain.
“How is it?”
The leader originally wanted to reply via voice transmission, but since the Emperor asked face-to-face, he reported directly, “No trace of Yin Changli has been found.”
Jing Ran exhorted.
“Do not lower your guard.”
The guard leader clasped his fists.
“Understood!”
Jing Ran: “Let me remind you all once more—if you discover Bai Xingxian, do not overrate your abilities and attempt to capture him. Though he was raised into a useless lump by Yin Changli and became a slave of the Shanhai clan, the royal family’s Inspiration is right there. You cannot do anything to him. Just inform me.”
“Orders received!”
The guard leader acknowledged solemnly, then added indignantly, “Yin Changli, that treacherous villain, has never dared to face us in direct combat, yet he vented a chest full of personal fury on…”
Regarding the title for Bai Xingxian, he faltered, “…vented it on a child!”
“It’s understandable. Even if the ‘untouchable’ mark was erased, those hundred years as a slave left an indelible stamp deep in his heart after all. Unable to do anything to me, he enslaved my royal bloodline—it allows him to regain a bit of his lost dignity, more or less.”
Jing Ran opened his eyes.
“I previously thought I had underestimated Yin Changli. Turns out I actually overestimated him.”
He looked sideways, his gaze penetrating the gauze curtains, looking toward the spot where Yin Changli had once kneeled in his youth.
“Kneeling is kneeling. Trying to regain so-called dignity is nothing more than self-deception. He can forget about ever lifting his head in front of me in his lifetime.”
These words were meant for Xiang Haikui to hear.
He thought Xiang Haikui would fly into a rage, but she didn’t.
His heart settled slightly; it seemed she didn’t care about Yin Changli as much as he had thought.
Xiang Haikui was indeed not angry. She also looked toward the place where her little boss had once kneeled.
In everyone else’s eyes, that period of time was his humiliation.
But in her boss’s heart, it was merely a life experience.
He hadn’t cared too much about it, nor did he have any thoughts of washing away humiliation.
Xiang Haikui originally wanted to retort with a few jabs at Jing Ran but felt it was meaningless.
The two of them were simply not on the same level.
—
The Prison of Nightmares was like the unformed universe before heaven and earth opened, a blur of chaos.
After both sides suffered mutual destruction, the companion spirit vanished without a trace.
Blind and unable to see, with divine sense rendered useless, Yin Changli was temporarily unable to find its trace, and could only perceive cautiously.
Black arcs of electricity rushed wildly over the surface of his battle armor, which was full of holes, helping him dissolve the demonic spirit aura he had previously borne.
The battle armor wouldn’t last much longer. Blood flowed down his arm, dripping continuously from his fingertips. In this space that seemed frozen, no one knew where it fell, and no sound could be heard.
Yin Changli was seriously injured—his inner core was cracked and his five internal organs were all damaged, yet the Spirit was bound to be injured even worse than he was.
A winner would be decided shortly, and the time left for him was running short as well.
Suddenly, he seemed to hear the sound of “ice cracking.”
He was all too familiar with this sound, as he would always hear it every time he first awoke from his deep sleep.
Huu…
A breeze blew past his ears, and a flicker of light blurred before his eyes. Beneath the swaying shadows of light, he clearly saw his surroundings and froze.
He was actually inside a massive piece of deep-sea ice, the ice layer filled with countless cracks—this was precisely his state every time his sleep ended.
Looking down at himself, he wasn’t wearing battle armor, nor was he injured; he was actually in the form of a black snake.
At that very moment, a disorderly flood of information surged into his consciousness realm like a tidal wave.
——”Yin Changli, do you still remember what happened before you fell asleep?”
Before falling asleep, he had brought back a mortal girl named Xiang Haikui from another world. He had given her the Tian kuang Sword and sent her to change her own destiny.
——”And then?”
And then? Yin Changli’s head throbbed.
Every time he first awoke from deep sleep, he would always fall into endless confusion.
He felt as though he had dreamed a long and tedious dream—dreaming that he had lost his memory, fallen in love with that girl, and woken up during their dual cultivation, ending his sleep prematurely…
——”Have you ever woken up early before?”
No, never.
So only now was he truly awakening?
Amnesia, falling in love, dual cultivation, and pursuit were all nothing more than a dream he had while sleeping?
——”There was never any Spirit, nor have you ever fallen in love with anyone. So, who are you risking your life for?”
…
At this moment, the companion spirit was looking for an opportunity to strike.
Yet to its astonishment, Yin Changli showed no signs of mental confusion; he was abnormally calm.
——”You don’t believe it?”
The black snake curled its body within the ice layer and did not respond.
——”Given the marvels of the world, everyone in this world is merely a frog at the bottom of a well. Where do you get the confidence to distinguish the cosmos, yin, and yang?”
“I can’t distinguish them.” The black snake let out a short laugh.
His calmness wasn’t because his mind was extraordinarily powerful, enabling him to instantly pierce through the Spirit’s divine ability.
It was because this scene was simply too familiar.
Over this recent period, whenever he thought about how he had refused to accept the memories from his amnesia and ended up hurting Xiang Haikui, he couldn’t help but ponder whether there was a way to turn back time, travel through space to the past, and return to the day they first met.
He wouldn’t give her the Tian kuang Sword.
He wouldn’t kick her into a nest of hyenas just to conduct intensive training for her.
And he certainly wouldn’t throw a heavy burden onto her shoulders and send her off to disrupt some chessboard game.
After bringing her over, he would cultivate her with meticulous care, clearing away all the haze on her life’s path so she wouldn’t have to chase after the sun so arduously.
“How wonderful would it be if this were true?” The black snake sighed with emotion.
“I am truly disappointed in my heart.”
Companion Spirit: …
Crack.
The ice layer reached the brink of shattering.
The black snake focused his mental power, intending to break through its divine ability seal—and at the exact moment of breaking through, capture its location to deliver a lethal blow.
Victory or defeat hung on this single action.
The companion spirit did everything in its power to suppress him inside the chaotic enchantment woven by its divine ability, continuing to throw his mind into turmoil.
With its experience, it didn’t believe it couldn’t confuse a mere junior like him.
“Have you ever thought that if you truly just woke up from deep sleep, then the Xiang Haikui you fell in love with is only the Xiang Haikui in your dream—someone you imagined, rather than who she originally is in reality…”
He interrupted, “Demonic Spirit, there are some things one shouldn’t overthink. For example, you say the ‘Xiang Haikui’ I fell in love with was imagined during my sleep. Then whose ‘imagination’ am I? Could I be Xiang Haikui’s imagination?”
The companion spirit didn’t pick up the conversation, clearly not understanding what he was talking about.
“Then, let’s make a hypothesis.”
The black snake spoke unhurriedly, “Xiang Heng died back then—died completely. There was no such thing as a soul transmigrating. Xiang Haikui grew up suffering all kinds of bullying and developed mental issues, always imagining that her father hadn’t actually died but had transmigrated to a different world and would definitely return to fetch her one day…”
A single flower is a single world; even having a dream temporarily forms a small world, let alone a person’s powerful mind-force.
“So, this enclosed small world of ours is actually imagined by her, existing by relying on her imagination…”
Following his words, the companion spirit suddenly felt a chill run down its spine.
“And after this imaginary world of ours was formed, it began to continuously perfect itself, escaping her control to a certain extent.”
“Although all things have gained self-awareness, the cornerstone of this world’s existence won’t change. Tell me, what is this cornerstone?”
This question wasn’t difficult. The companion spirit said, “It’s Xiang Heng.”
Since this was a world Xiang Haikui imagined for Xiang Heng, Xiang Heng was naturally the cornerstone of the world.
The black snake smiled.
“Spirit, you used Xiang Heng as a target. When you shot out the Heavenly Martial Divine Arrow and the divine arrow killed Xiang Heng, guess what will happen to the world?”
The companion spirit grew increasingly terrified. Once the cornerstone of the world was destroyed, the entire world would collapse!
The black snake let out a long sigh.
“So what awaits you isn’t necessarily a new life, but perhaps destruction…” His voice gradually turned grave.
“Fate loves to play tricks on people. No matter how you exhaust all your scheming, in the end, you are merely bringing about your own doom!”
Like a heavy blow to the head, the companion spirit’s mind shuddered violently.
This was the very definition of “terrifying upon deeper thought.”
The richer one’s experience and the broader one’s vision, the easier it was to be frightened by this kind of “deeper terror.”
What’s more, the two of them were currently competing in mental power—both hanging by a thread, their nerves stretched taut.
The companion spirit shouted shrilly, “This hypothesis is completely invalid! How old is Xiang Haikui, and how long has our world existed? Don’t forget, she was even ‘given birth’ to by me!”
The little black snake: “Oh, is that so? But who told you all of this?”
Companion spirit: “It is our personal experience!”
The little black snake: “How can you be sure that these ‘experiences’ actually took place in reality, rather than being forcibly stuffed into your brain by some mysterious power?”
“I…”
“Just like right now—I am inside your divine ability, and haven’t you been constantly trying to cram false memories into my head to mislead me?”
“But…”
“Returning your own words back to you: given the marvels of the world, everyone in this world is merely a frog at the bottom of a well. Where do you get the confidence to distinguish the cosmos, yin, and yang?!”
The black snake’s final words rolled out like thunder, and the entire space suddenly quaked violently!
At this exact instant, his mental power completely surpassed the Spirit, and the ice layer shattered with a bang.
Yin Changli precisely caught the location of the Spirit. The moment his consciousness returned to his body, he shot toward its direction at full speed.
The five fingers of his right hand—already dyed red with blood—splayed open into sharp claws. With a clatter, they tore open its protective barrier and slammed down onto the top of its head.
The blood on his claw burst into raging flames, burning furiously downward from the top of its head.
Hearing its agonized scream, Yin Changli said with cold severity, “If you fought me out in the open, you would still have a slight chance of winning. You just had to choose my strong suit to battle me with—tell me, were you out of your mind?”
He then jerked his hand up forcefully, drawing out a strand of light from its spiritual platform.
This beam of light was none other than the power of the Heavenly Martial Divine Arrow extracted from within Xiang Heng’s body.
Releasing his grip, Yin Changli moved several zhang away from it.
“Of course, you being out of your mind isn’t limited to just this one thing.”
“Me, out of my mind? I can’t understand it! Do you comprehend the loneliness of being imprisoned for a lifetime?!” Amidst the flames, the companion spirit shrieked wretchedly, “All of you want to defy fate and change your destinies, why can’t I!”
“Loneliness? Do you truly understand what loneliness is?”
Yin Changli wiped away the blood on his lips with his thumb and sneered, “When Xiang Heng and Xiang Haikui are both dead, and when there is no longer a single person in this vast world who remembers or cares about you—that is true loneliness!”
“No! They are merely…”
Yin Changli cut it off forcefully, “If they aren’t, then what you feel isn’t loneliness, it’s ambition!”
Obstinate and irredeemable—he was unwilling to waste any more words with it.
Waving his sleeve, he rolled up a whirlwind, channeling the blood flames to completely consume the Spirit!
The noise gradually faded, and as the flames died out, only a wisp of scorched black smoke remained.
“Is it dead?”
Blood Asura emerged from out of nowhere.
“It isn’t dead for now, but it can no longer amount to anything. Shortly, it will dissipate into nothingness along with the collapse of this place.”
Yin Changli blew out the fire on his hand, the dark-red power of the divine arrow dancing in his palm.
His face was ghostly pale, his brow filled with deep exhaustion.
Having not dared to slacken in the slightest earlier, he now felt completely drained, exhausted and swaying unsteadily on his feet.
His body-protecting battle armor gradually liquefied, turning back into two scales.
Severely damaged, they could no longer be worn as ornaments beside his temples.
Yin Changli carefully and properly stowed the scales away, then turned to see that Blood Asura’s complexion looked even worse than his own.
Severe injuries were not the main issue; the whites of his eyes were murky, showing immense emotional turmoil.
“Congratulations on finally crawling and tumbling your way to the threshold of Joining the Dao.”
Yin Changli wasn’t surprised in the least; leaving him behind really hadn’t been an intentional trap.
This place was perfect for him to comprehend the essence of the Dream Sword.
“The threshold of Joining the Dao? No, I’m thinking about that hypothesis you brought up when debating the Dao with the Spirit.”
The Blood Asura felt his scalp go numb the more he thought about it.
“Could this small world of ours really be someone’s obsession, a fantasy, and not real?”
“Huh?” Yin Changli asked curiously, “You’d actually think about that? I thought you would mock me, saying that in the end, a fraud like me still relied on slick talk to beat his opponent.”
“How is this slick talk? It’s completely possible.”
Blood Asura had always thought the essence of the Dream Sword was to allow him to distinguish reality from dreams, but the closer he got to the edge of Joining the Dao, the more he found himself unable to tell them apart.
He looked at Yin Changli, hoping for a word or two of guidance.
It was quite embarrassing, but asking himself honestly, Yin Changli was actually half a master to him.
Yin Changli smiled, feeling a burst of severe pain in his internal organs as the corners of his mouth tugged upward.
“Do you know why I gave you the Dream Sword instead of Tian kuang or Tianren?”
This question had plagued Blood Asura for years.
Though the divine swords were notoriously troublesome, Yin Changli always selected swords according to the specific traits of their masters when giving them away.
What trait had Yin Changli actually seen in him back when he was a child?
“When I got the Dream Sword, I studied it once. Meng jian (Dream Sword), meng jian (dreaming of seeing), meng jian jian (dreaming of seeing a sword)—it threw my mind into utter turmoil. So I knew I couldn’t cultivate this sword, and I discovered the trick to cultivating it.”
Yin Changli patted him on the shoulder.
Blood Asura held his breath.
Yin Changli continued explaining, “The trick is… as long as the sword master is stupid enough, all the ‘terrifying thoughts upon deeper reflection’ will stop right at the ‘reflection’ step, and never make it in front of the ‘terror’.”
Blood Asura seriously pondered his words, and his face instantly darkened.
“You really are…”
What time was it already, and he still didn’t forget to rile him up?
Yin Changli’s previously taut nerves relaxed a little, and he let out a few hearty laughs.
“Alright, hurry up and think about how to get out—that’s the real priority.”
Seeing his weak state that looked practically on the verge of the Five Decays of the Heavenly Beings, Blood Asura couldn’t even bring himself to stay angry.
Added to that was the sound of filthy black mud and water dripping and flowing everywhere, constantly reminding him that the Nightmare Prison was about to collapse.
“If the two of us can’t get out before it collapses, we’ll plummet into the void.”
“Shouldn’t you be the one coming up with a solution?” Yin Changli looked at the Dream Sword in his hand.
“Of course giving me more time is no problem,” the Blood Asura said helplessly.
“The problem is that we’re out of time now.”
Yin Changli should have a way to leave before the collapse—their hope lay in the power of the Heavenly Martial Divine Arrow cradled in his palm.
Though this sphere of energy was no longer the actual Heavenly Martial Divine Arrow, its power was still not to be underestimated.
As its creator, Yin Changli possessed control far superior to the Spirit; he could certainly borrow its strength to escape during the collapse.
Yin Changli shook his head.
“This time it truly depends on you, Blood Asura. Do not place your hopes on the divine arrow.”
It could indeed be used to get them out, but time would not permit it.
The passage connecting to the Xuantian Mirror was already destroyed. Once they escaped, they wouldn’t know where they would end up landing.
Rushing to the Celestial Realm to meet up with Xiang Haikui in time might be impossible.
“It has another purpose.”
Yin Changli gazed at the sphere of energy in his hand.
“I hope it will be in time…”
He also hoped he hadn’t misjudged Han Qi.
—
After the immortal carriage drove out of the royal palace and entered the marketplace, Xiang Haikui noticed a tense, jittery atmosphere in the Royal Capital, where everyone was on edge.
Nearly half the businesses were closed, and pedestrians were pitifully few.
It seemed everyone was worried that all the Shanhai prisoners would be released at once, and that Yin Changli would lead them up here to ignite another war.
Turning east, the surroundings grew increasingly desolate.
Upon arriving at the Star-Gathering Palace, Han Qi was absent.
The entire manor was completely empty, without even a single guard in sight.
The ceiling well was situated in the backyard.
As they walked through the courtyard halls, Xiang Haikui couldn’t help but remark that the manor’s name was well-suited—one truly could reach out and pick the stars here.
Hardly any of the rooms had roofs; instead, there were only giant, pure white round pillars, resembling the ruins of ancient Greek architecture.
When passing under a starry sky, she paused in her tracks.
The sun hadn’t fully set yet at this hour—where did stars come from?
“This is a star chart,” Jing Ran explained.
Xiang Haikui remembered—it was just like the Destiny Brush in Yin Changli’s hand.
It didn’t look like anything special, yet back then, both she and her father were merely tiny chess pieces on this vast star chart.
Used by Yin Changli as bargaining chips in his game against Han Qi.
As she looked up in a daze, Jing Ran said thoughtfully, “No need to sigh. I was once on this chessboard as well.”
Xiang Haikui nodded.
“And you were the one overlooked by everyone.”
She had originally thought he was a low-tier player, never expecting him to turn out to be a top-tier grandmaster in the end.
Jing Ran walked over to her side with his hands behind his back.
“Not everyone. At least you never ignored me.”
Xiang Haikui didn’t take his bait and kept walking forward.
Before walking far, her view widened. What was called the backyard was actually a vast forest, filled with all sorts of strange and bizarre tree species.
“That one is the well.”
As Jing Ran flicked his finger, a streak of light landed on an ancient, ginkgo-like tree in the distance.
Its bark was mottled and full of hollow cavities.
Xiang Haikui extended her divine sense through the cavities into its interior—sure enough, it was hollow.
Plunging down into the tree roots, it was pitch-black, like a bottomless pit that couldn’t be explored any further.
It matched the “well” her boss had described; it was real.
As she took a step forward, Jing Ran reached out to stop her.
Xiang Haikui instantly pulled back her foot, retreating two steps as if treating him like the plague, and made a mental note of the location.
—
After leaving the Star-Gathering Palace, they drove toward the destination Jing Ran had brought her out of the palace for today.
When they arrived, Xiang Haikui glanced up. The plaque on the gate bore the character “Meng”.
She froze for a moment.
“Xiang Tianqing’s home?”
“Yes. It is also the home of your old enemies, the two brothers Meng Xilou and Meng Nantings,” Jing Ran said, looking up at the plaque along with her.
“In terms of the Meng family’s Inspiration, they rank in the top tier of the Celestial Clan. If they hadn’t been caught red-handed by me with suspicion of harming me, I wouldn’t have had a reason to dispose of them arbitrarily over a minor matter.”
“Mm, a minor matter.”
Xiang Haikui nodded repeatedly, sneering, “My life and my father’s life, as well as the lives of more than a dozen cities including Silver Sand—all just a minor matter.”
“There’s nothing you can do even if you’re upset; it truly was a minor matter. Only after you stood by my side did it become a major matter for the Meng family.”
Jing Ran stepped off the carriage and extended his hand to her.
Xiang Haikui jumped straight out through the window.
The main gates of the Meng family were already wide open, with many people kneeling both inside and outside the courtyard.
Jing Ran led her forward.
“I once told you that I greatly appreciated Meng Nanting, which was why I stepped in to help him.”
Xiang Haikui had to rack her brain to recall the whole story. Back then, Meng Nanting was preparing to devour Lu Xiqiao and seize his Jianmu Fruit-flesh body.
She had barged into the Lu family to rescue him, with Han Qi accompanying her, and Yin Changli had even swooped in halfway through. Meng Nanting had been practically guaranteed to die.
Yet the newly awakened Jing Ran had used his Inspiration to tip off Meng Nanting, causing Meng Nanting to immediately abandon the seizure and flee back to the upper realm.
Xiang Haikui agreed.
“Meng Nanting’s twisted, devious mind is indeed far superior to Meng Xilou’s.”
Compared to him, Meng Xilou was clearly just a naive fool.
“Emperor!” The two kneeling in the center of the courtyard were none other than the Meng Family Head and Meng Nanting.
The Meng Family Head was managing alright, lowering his head slightly to show deference without displaying excessive fear.
Meng Nanting, on the other hand, was truly unable to suppress his terror.
Previously, Han Qi had told him that the Emperor appreciated him somewhat and wouldn’t make things too difficult for him.
However, news had come from Bian City that the Emperor greatly favored Xiang Haikui; with her whispering in his ear, Meng Nanting had constantly felt he wouldn’t escape this calamity.
Who could have guessed that the two would fall out later, and she would end up severely injuring the Emperor?
Just a moment ago, Meng Nanting had still been rejoicing that his life was likely saved, only to be slapped awake by a harsh blow from his father the very next moment.
Rejoicing?
This crazy woman had even hacked the Emperor into severe injury—sooner or later, she would come up to the upper realm to hack their Meng family to pieces.
Why had they formulated that plan to drive Xiang Heng insane in the first place?
Why had they thought that drowning Xiang Haikui in a bathtub would be as simple as pinching an ant to death?
Had they gone mad?
Xiang Haikui crossed the threshold following Jing Ran, entering the courtyard and stopping in front of the father and son.
She sized up the two kneeling before her—Xiang Tianqing’s father and concubine-born elder brother.
After a moments, she unstrapped the carved sword box from her back, planting it upright before herself with a clank, resting both hands over it to use it as a walking cane.
Tian kuang was a heavy sword; the more mad intent it gathered, the heavier its blade became.
Ever since reaching max level, Xiang Haikui had always handled it with care, as letting it hit the ground too hard could easily destroy the floorboards.
What’s more, it was currently packed with a massive stash of array discs and treasures, making it as heavy as a mountain.
The exquisite jade tiles paving the Meng family’s courtyard cracked almost entirely in a cobweb pattern.
Her casual slam knocked away quite a bit of the Meng Family Head’s composure, causing his eyelids to twitch violently.
Let alone the rest of the Meng family.
Though she and the Emperor were currently adversaries, judging by the previous battle at Bian City, if this frenzied sword cultivator truly wanted to bathe the Meng family in blood, whether the Emperor could stop her and whether their Meng family could withstand it were both serious questions.
The Tiankuang sword box happened to stand right in front of Meng Nanting’s face. The jade tile beneath his knees shattered on the spot, and as his body lurched from side to side, he raised his head in panic.
Xiang Haikui took in his terror, as well as the fear of everyone in the Meng family.
“Are they afraid of me?”
She had thought they were cowering before Jing Ran.
“They are afraid of you,” Jing Ran nodded slightly.
“Though they do not know your true strength, they have a reference point.”
That reference point, naturally, was Jing Ran himself.
“Aren’t you guys demonizing me a bit too much?” Xiang Haikui was astonished.
She had long known she had become famous after that single battle, but what was up with these house servants, guards, and maidservants? Did they think she was going to slaughter the entire Meng family just because she came to seek revenge?
She comforted a few little maidservants who were nearly fainting from fright.
“Don’t be scared. Every debt has its debtor. I’m not in the habit of killing indiscriminately, nor am I really that terrifying…”
“There is no need to belittle yourself. No one knows your strength better than I do. If I do not stop you, you certainly have the capability to raze the Meng family to the ground,” Jing Ran said indifferently.
“And even if I do intervene, out of the two of them, father and son, you can definitely cripple at least one.”
Receiving the Emperor’s personal confirmation, the entire Meng family turned pale as ash.
The few little maidservants Xiang Haikui had just comforted rolled their eyes back and fainted dead away.
Xiang Haikui wanted to roll her eyes too. Was this what they called the tables turning?
Once, the “upper realm’s Meng family” was the nightmare in her heart; today, she had become the big demon lord in theirs.
Jing Ran added, “What’s a pity is that Meng Xilou isn’t in the Royal Capital. After the crushing defeat at Silver Sand, you severed Meng Xilou’s clone, causing his true body to suffer severe trauma. He has been in secluded cultivation for over a decade now. I’m not sure if the Meng Family Head truly cannot find him, or if he is deceiving me.”
The Meng Family Head hurriedly explained, “May the Emperor judge clearly! After my wretched son returned from the lower realm, he barely had a breath left in him and entered a life-or-death secluded cultivation. According to our customs, the location of such secluded cultivation is generally known only to the individual…”
They should have known back then that Xiang Haikui was no soft touch; they shouldn’t have lowered their guard and should have pulled back in time.
It was mainly because they had invested too much into accumulating merit for Xiang Tianqing, making it a pity to give up.
While Meng Xilou was willing to scheme for his sister from the same parents out of genuine affection, to the Meng Family Head, mobilizing resources and spending vast sums of money for a single daughter was entirely due to Xiang Tianqing’s Inspiration.
Though timid by nature from a young age, the Inspiration she carried was exceptionally pure.
Coupled with the right age, when the Emperor needed to pass down his lineage in the future, Xiang Tianqing would stand a chance.
Who could have foreseen that man’s calculations would fall short of Heaven’s? Not only had the plan failed, but they had also provoked a deadly star of slaughter.
Regret was useless now. Father and son had already discussed the Emperor’s purpose in bringing Xiang Haikui here today.
Only two days remained, and the Emperor wanted to shift from defense to offense.
The bet between the two was that until sunset three days later, Xiang Haikui could not draw her sword; otherwise, she would have to hand over the array disc with both hands.
The Emperor bringing her to the Meng family was meant to remind her of the persecution she had suffered at their hands.
She was Qi Yin’s disciple. To put it nicely, she was a mad sword cultivator, but in essence, she was simply a lunatic.
He didn’t believe she could still endure it.
The Emperor was using them as a touchstone, intending to use the lives of the Meng family to pry open the sword in Xiang Haikui’s hands.
