Think about it

The moment his mind was shocked, the divine power in his body suddenly seemed to be pulled out, and leaked out along the golden light wrapped around his wrist.

His body felt weak and his fingertips were numb. He had to hold on to the ancient cypress tree beside him to keep steady even when standing. Only when his palms touched the rough texture of the bark did he barely retain a trace of consciousness.

In the illusion, Yan Xiu had put away his sword. His dark tights swept across the fallen leaves as he walked towards her with steady steps. The Broken Water Sword was slung across his waist, and the tassel swayed gently with his movements. There was not a trace of blood on it, and he looked exactly the same as she remembered him in countless mornings after practicing sword skills.

Yunxiu's eyes were fixed on him, and her breathing became lighter.

She was almost about to forget the tragic sight of the broken mountain gate, the sight of her fellow disciples lying in a pool of blood, and how chilling Zhi Huan's cold white divine power was, and follow the shadow back to the bamboo courtyard, just like before.

Just a little bit.

But at this moment, a vague sword sound suddenly hit her ears, as clear as the tune of a water-breaking sword cutting through the air, wrapped in the spiritual power fluctuations that she was very familiar with, belonging to the real Yan Xiu - that spiritual power contained his unique, cold scent of pine needles, and the lingering smell of blood.

The voice was very faint, as if it came from a thick rock wall, but it accurately pierced her heart, making her come back to her senses suddenly, and the numbness in her fingertips suddenly intensified.

"It hurts so much... So she's in so much pain?"

"It's exactly the same as in my previous life...but this time, there's no chance to do it again."

It’s Yan Xiu’s voice!

Yunxiu suddenly turned around, but there were only dead leaves blown by the wind spinning on the top of the mountain. The shadow of the green cypress was still blurry, and there was not even a trace of a person.

The regretful murmur was like mist that was blown away, and the lingering sound lingered in her ears, making her heart tighten.

"Xiao You?"

In front of her, Yan Xiu had already walked up to her, the corner of his dark-colored tights brushed against the tip of her shoe, and the Broken Water Sword was still slung across his waist, without a trace of blood.

He raised his hand to touch the top of her head: "Why are you daydreaming? If you keep on daydreaming, you'll have to practice sword moves until dark again."

Yunxiu's gaze fell on his clean fingertips.

There were no scars from the burns caused by Zhihuan's divine power, only thin calluses from years of holding the sword.

She subconsciously backed away, her voice trembling even though she didn't notice it: "I... I'm a little tired."

Yan Xiu paused, but didn't ask any further questions. He simply took a half step back as usual and pointed in the direction of the bamboo courtyard:

"Then rest for a while before practicing again. I'll go pick you some red fruits. The tree you love the most has a lot of them today."

As soon as he finished speaking, Wu Yi came over with a few fresh sycamore leaves, smiling and joining in:

"You have to pick the ones with morning dew on them to make them sweet! The ones you picked last time were too raw and so sour that you frowned, and you blamed me for not reminding you."

The sycamore leaves on his fingertips were still moist, and they were the tenderest ones from the back mountain.

These daily thoughts are like small pieces of candy, wrapped in familiar warmth.

But this is not the voice that just now contained "previous life" and "no more chance".

She held her breath and followed Yan Xiu in the illusion as he walked towards the red fruit tree.

As soon as his fingertips touched the branch, morning dew rolled down the veins of the leaves and dripped onto the ink-black cuffs, making a small wet patch. When he turned around, the thin layer of sweat on his forehead gleamed brightly in the morning light, and the silver thread on the tassel of the Broken Water sword was still shaking with tiny light.

It was on her fifteenth birthday. She secretly wrapped it with colorful silk threads while he was taking a break from sword practice. When he found out, he laughed and said it was "nonsense."

But never took it off.

He held out a bright red fruit.

There was still morning dew on the peel, and the coolness of her palms passed through the peel, even the old scars on her knuckles left by blocking falling rocks were clearly visible.

He raised his hand, pinching a bright red fruit with his fingertips, with morning dew still hanging on the peel. When he handed it to Yunxiu, the slight coolness of his palm passed through the peel. Even the thin calluses on his knuckles from sword practice were exactly the same as he remembered.

Yunxiu's fingertips trembled. She looked at Yan Xiu's clean wrist—no trace of Zhi Huan's divine power burning it. Clean, white, and strong.

Behind her she could hear Yingtang and Jinger talking and laughing. Yuwei was still embroidering a light green headband on the bluestone slab. Even the scent of ink wafting from her master's bamboo house was the familiar pine smoke scent.

This was the scene she had dreamed of countless times in the bloody storm: no broken barrier, no dead fellow disciples, no killing by Zhi Huan, only the most ordinary morning in Yaoxi Mountain.

"Xiao You?" Seeing that she didn't take it, Yan Xiu extended it forward again, and his fingertips accidentally rubbed the back of her hand. The touch was warm and real, just like the temperature he felt when he used the scabbard to correct her wrist posture when teaching her sword practice countless times before.

Yunxiu's breathing suddenly became rapid.

But the Yan Xiu in front of her was too real, so real that if she just stretched out her hand, she could touch the wrinkles on his sleeves, take the sickly sweet red fruit, and follow him back to the bamboo courtyard to practice sword, as if nothing had happened.

She slowly raised her hand, and her fingertips first touched the red fruit handed to her by Yan Xiu. The coolness of the fruit peel made her dazed.

But the next second, her palm covered the back of his hand - Yan Xiu's hand was bigger than hers, and could wrap her hand firmly. The thin calluses on the palm rubbed against her fingertips, and even the old scar on the base of her thumb, left by helping her block falling rocks, was clearly visible.

"Let's go."

Yan Xiu also held her hand tightly, turned around and walked towards the bamboo courtyard with brisk steps.

Yunxiu was led forward by him, the swing of the banyan tree swayed beside her, Yingtang's laughter was getting closer and closer, she could even smell the faint scent of pine needles on Yan Xiu's body - that was the scent he often got from practicing sword in the back mountain.

His consciousness seemed to be softened by warm water, and the memories of killing, wounds, and Zhihuan faded away little by little.

She almost forgot that this was an illusion and just wanted to follow along.

Back to the carefree days.

Yunxiu was almost going to follow him.

But just as her footsteps were about to step onto the bluestone slabs of the bamboo courtyard, she stopped in front of the door.

Yan Xiu in front of her turned around to look at him, and she saw his gaze.

Frank, fearless, bright and fiery.

Yunxiu had never seen Yan Xiu look like this before. Or rather, Yan Xiu would avoid her gaze most of the time.

The trace of vigilance in her heart was like a thin needle, gently piercing her addicted consciousness.

But her hand was still held by Yan Xiu, and the familiar touch and temperature still made her hesitate.

Even if it was fake, could she stay a little longer?

Just a moment.

"Xiao You..."

In the gap between reality and illusion, she heard a voice that she didn't know whether it was true or false.

"I really want to tell you, I've always wanted to tell you. I don't know if it's too late..."

Yunxiu's heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and the urgency in his voice was too real to be an illusion.

She still couldn't help it and reached out to hold Yan Xiu's hand tightly.

His palms had a familiar coolness, without the roughness of wounds, only thin calluses from sword practice.

The two of them held hands.

However, at the moment their fingertips touched, the illusion before her eyes suddenly shattered like a mirror, and amidst the flying fragments, the real scene suddenly crashed into her vision -

Deep in the cave, beside the black stone, the real Yan Xiu was half-kneeling on the ground, leaning on the Broken Water Sword. His ink-black martial arts suit was stained dark red from his left shoulder to his waist. The bandage had long been torn into strips of cloth. The blood seeping from the wound dripped down the spine of the sword, forming a small pool on the ground, and even the sword light of the Broken Water Sword dimmed a little.

Zhi Huan stood opposite him, his black cloak also had several holes in it, and the cold white divine power was fluctuating unsteadily. It was obvious that he was also injured in the previous fight, but he still had murderous intent.

"Things have come to this... it's come to this! What are you going crazy for?!"

Zhi Huan's voice was filled with hostility. He raised his hand and slapped Yan Xiu's chest. The cold white divine power was wrapped in the breath of destruction, and it was obvious that he wanted to end the battle quickly.

Yan Xiu raised his head suddenly, holding the Broken Water Sword across his body. The sword light was clear but with an unconcealable trembling, and he blocked the attack with all his might.

With a dull thud, he slid back half a foot, his back hitting the black stone hard. A mouthful of dark red blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, but he still gripped the hilt tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, his eyes filled with a fierce determination not to retreat:

"I regret it."

Zhi Huan sneered, divine power surging from his fingertips, ready to attack again. Yan Xiu suddenly used all his strength and thrust the Broken Water Sword towards the gaping wound on Zhi Huan's chest, but was still half a step too slow, only slicing through Zhi Huan's cloak, revealing the wound underneath which was also oozing blood.

A deep wound, visible to the bone, gushed out on his shoulder, and blood instantly stained most of his dark armor. Yan Xiu groaned, but didn't fall. He simply slid down against the black stone, his breathing growing heavier, and he almost lost the strength to even lift his hands.

His heart seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand, the divine power at his fingertips suddenly surged wildly, and even the golden light on his wrist was vibrating violently.

She wanted to rush in, but her body was firmly trapped by the remaining illusion. She could only watch the two of them get hurt and Yan Xiu leaned against the black stone.

At this moment, two voices suddenly overlapped in her ears——

One was Yan Xiu in the illusion. He opened his eyes wide and clenched his hands tighter.

The other was the real Yan Xiu. He leaned against the black stone, looking in the direction where Yun Xiu disappeared. Blood foam overflowed from the corner of his mouth, but he repeated it over and over in his mind...

——"At least tell her this time..."

Tell her...what?

"Xiaoyou... I'm sorry, it's my fault..."

"My heart...is not made of stone."

It cannot be turned.

The two voices were like two thunders, exploding in her mind.

Yunxiu suddenly opened her eyes wide, not knowing what emotion was surging in her body, causing all her thoughts to stop for a moment.

The golden light surrounding Yunxiu intensified. Suddenly, an unprecedented force erupted, rushing outward along the golden light from his wrist.

The Yaoxi Mountain in the illusion began to twist violently. The swing on the banyan tree shattered into light fragments, Yingtang's smile faded into transparent mist, and even Yan Xiu in front of him began to dissipate from the tips of his hair, and his ink-black tights turned into specks of light.

Yan Xiu in front of her was still looking at her. Yun Xiu just gently pulled her hand away, and the coolness of his palm still remained on her fingertips.

The fighting scene that was clear just now suddenly disappeared, and Yunxiu paused.

In the end, she still said nothing, but raised her hand to straighten the slightly messy collar of the phantom.

"I'm going to find you, brother." she said softly.

Whatever it was, she wanted to hear it with her own ears.