Yan Chiling slowly opened his eyes, the blinding light causing him to squint uncomfortably. The familiar beams, the familiar scent of incense—this was his residence in the Huayang Sect.
"Fourth Senior Brother! You're finally awake!"
Ruan Xinrou's voice came from beside her, tinged with obvious displeasure. She stood with her hands on her hips in front of the bed, her tone full of reproach: "Why did you suddenly faint? You forced me to come back to take care of you! Even the Ancestor is angry!"
Yan Chiling tried to sit up by supporting herself on her arms, but found that her fingers were trembling uncontrollably.
Those dreams—no, those fragments of memory—still surged in his mind, so vivid they were suffocating.
That scene played out again and again.
He saw himself carving Bai Ying's name again and again.
It was covered in those two words...
"The Lingxiao Sect..." His voice was hoarse beyond recognition, "was it... wiped out by the Ancestor?"
Ruan Xinrou's expression instantly darkened: "Don't even mention it!" She flicked her sleeves irritably, "Those cowards ran faster than rabbits! The entire sect is empty, not even a mouse was left! The ancestor searched the entire area for miles around with his divine sense, but couldn't find a single living person!"
Yan Chiling's tense shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. This subtle change did not escape Ruan Xinrou's notice, and her brows immediately furrowed.
"Fourth Senior Brother, you wouldn't be... not wanting them to die, would you?" Her voice suddenly rose, "That's Bai Ying's sect! That bitch killed Master and destroyed my spiritual root! I know you're kind-hearted and don't want to kill innocent people indiscriminately."
But those people will definitely seek revenge for Bai Ying; letting them escape would truly be a disadvantage for the Huayang Sect.
"I know..." Yan Chiling lowered his eyes, concealing the emotion within them.
He should be furious, he should be cursing Bai Ying through gritted teeth as before. But what surged in his chest at this moment was an indescribable... relief.
Ruan Xinrou turned to leave, but her sleeve was suddenly grabbed.
"Wait!" Yan Chiling himself didn't realize how much force he had used, and only hurriedly let go when he saw Ruan Xinrou's pained expression. "I...I have something to ask you."
A smug smile curved Ruan Xinrou's lips. She knew it; this senior brother, who was so infatuated with her, couldn't bear to see her go. "What? You can't bear to part with me?" She deliberately moved closer, her sweet fragrance wafting over her.
However, Yan Chiling's next words instantly froze the smile on her face:
"Xinrou, you know I lost a part of my memory, so... is that lost memory... related to Bai Ying?"
His voice was soft, yet carried an unprecedented firmness, "Didn't I... have a pretty good relationship with her before?"
Ruan Xinrou's face instantly turned ashen. "Are you insane?!" Her voice was shrill and piercing. "That bitch Bai Ying has been targeting me at every turn, how could you possibly be on good terms with her?! You hate her the most! Have you forgotten how she crippled my spiritual roots? Have you forgotten how she murdered my master?!"
Yan Chiling had heard these words countless times.
Previously, these memories were etched deeply into his heart like a brand, becoming his reason for helping the Ancestor kill Bai Ying. But now...
"I understand," he replied softly, his gaze fixed on his trembling fingertips.
Those scenes are back again—
On the cold stone wall of the Cliff of Contemplation, he carved his name stroke by stroke with his blood-stained fingers;
Is all of this really just an illusion?
Ruan Xinrou stormed out, slamming the door behind her, and the room finally fell silent. Yan Chiling slowly opened his palm, where four crescent-shaped bloody marks had appeared from his fingernails.
It hurts so much.
Yan Chiling dragged his heavy steps toward the Cliff of Repentance.
The moonlight, like water, cast his shadow long and lonely. The night breeze rustled his robes.
Seeing that he carried the token unique to the patriarch's trusted confidant, the guard simply bowed slightly and made way for him.
Yan Chiling nodded mechanically, but his gaze had already passed over them, looking towards the depths of the cliff bottom.
The stone wall gleamed with a cold, bluish light under the moonlight.
He slowly raised his hand, and when his fingertips touched the various engravings, he felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
Every crooked stroke perfectly matches the scene in memory—here it is crooked because of the splitting headache when the demonic power was on, there it was written with extra force during the brief moments of lucidity.
"White Firefly..."
He murmured the name unconsciously, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.
Suddenly, as if remembering something, he abruptly knelt down, frantically digging through the moss and rubble at the base of the stone wall. He was oblivious to the blood seeping from under his fingernails, until his fingertips touched that cold object—
A rusty dagger.
In his memory, he had placed the carving knife in this spot.
The cloth strips wrapped around the hilt of the knife had long since decayed, but the peculiar way of knotting the rope was exactly his usual habit.
Yan Chiling trembled as she picked it up. Under the moonlight, the blade still bore the faint scratches left from when the words were carved years ago.
Hot tears welled up in his eyes without warning, hitting the rusty knife with a soft "plop".
He gripped the knife handle tightly, his knuckles turning white from the excessive force, as if he wanted to embed this only piece of evidence into his very bones.
"So...it was all true..."
The hoarse voice echoed in the empty bottom of the cliff, trembling with disbelief.
Yan Chiling's temples throbbed, the sealed fragments of memory piercing his consciousness like sharp ice picks. It wasn't a hallucination, not a figment of his imagination; it was something that had truly happened!
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