Chapter 63 Recalling the past, three thousand specks of dust in the world, love was too small, insufficient...
To Master Xueya:
Greetings.
You previously said that "darling" was too strange, and you didn't know where I learned it from; you also said that it didn't need to be too formal, so from now on I will no longer be bound by such formalities.
The turmoil in the South has ended, and Li Xia and I are safe and sound. Her letter to you last time was too absurd; I'm sure you wouldn't take it seriously and go to the Wuji Sword Sect to discuss owing them a favor.
I've been thinking, thankfully, the descendants of the kings of the South have returned to seize power, but what about the others? The women of this world suffer so much; must they wait for someone to enlighten them before they can truly find a way to break free? You previously asked me what path I wanted to cultivate, and the Steps of the Heart tested me in the same way. My answer remains the same, only more detailed. I hope to help them to the best of my ability, and when someone awakens, I will become a stream in the waves.
Saving the world is not about lifting it up by one's own strength, but about first going among all living beings.
Li Xia understood this earlier than I did.
She went blind this time due to the backlash from the divine fire, but thanks to the prescription written by her master, her recovery has accelerated recently, and she may be able to see again soon. We've been taking care of each other during this time, so I've neglected to reply to your messages.
There is another important matter that, after much deliberation, I still believe should not be concealed.
We encountered demons earlier, and after a fierce battle, my spiritual power became tainted. I've heard this is a sign of demonic possession, but my heart remains calm, free from violence and hatred. You must have seen many things on your journey; have you encountered anything similar?
If it is truly beyond redemption, then I am willing to abandon all my cultivation and start cultivating from scratch.
"Such a big matter, how can this young girl speak of it so lightly? However, she has indeed grown, and this trip was worthwhile."
Yan Xueya sighed softly, her fingertips tracing the ink on the letter, and she couldn't help but mutter a few words. Then, a spiritual flame ignited, and the letter in her hand vanished instantly.
Just then, someone walked through the snow outside the hall, their footsteps as light as a deer strolling by. Yan Xueya took the teacup, and as her spiritual energy flowed into the teapot, white steam rose and the aroma of tea filled the air.
"I didn't know you would be coming today, so I didn't prepare tea." She looked up at the woman in the blue robe who was walking towards her. "I hope True Lord Cangling will forgive me."
Ruan Luoying flashed by and sat down opposite Yan Xueya in the blink of an eye. She reached out and took the teacup, smelled the tea, and smiled, "You've already shown great sincerity by replacing the butter tea with green tea, or have you changed your taste?"
"Of course, it was prepared especially for you."
"Then Luoying should thank Xueya for his kindness. Alright, alright, there's no need for such formality between us—the two robes you asked the Wuji Sword Sect for as a favor have already been delivered. They don't know your whereabouts yet, so they had someone bring them to me."
Ruan Luoying waved her hand, and silver light flashed from between her fingers, transforming into two pure white Taoist robes placed on the table.
Yan Xueya took them and examined them in her bosom. "They are quite generous. It's just a favor, but they are really willing to repay it with such high-quality treasures."
The woman in green sitting opposite her raised her hand and tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear, teasingly saying, "We've dealt with them before when we were young, haven't you forgotten how straightforward they are? Getting them to feel indebted to someone or admit they're inferior to their opponent is harder than climbing to heaven. You know how to exploit people's weaknesses—but saving someone's life isn't a great favor, is it? Yue Qifeng is a world-renowned genius of their Sword Sect."
"I wonder if he'll still be able to hold onto his title as the only swordsmanship genius in the world after the competition," Yan Xueya said leisurely, raising his cup to drink tea.
Upon hearing this, a look of surprise flashed in Ruan Luoying's eyes. She then guessed what she meant and raised an eyebrow. "You think so highly of your two disciples? I remember that Li Xia is not very focused on sword cultivation."
Yan Xueya smiled. "She has her own plans, though she hasn't told me yet. You know I'm talking about Yan Shen."
At this point, the woman suddenly stopped pouring the cup, her fingertips gripping the cup slightly tighter. Seeing her frown and her silver eyes darken, Ruan Luoying assumed that she had touched an old wound again, so she reached out to help her channel her spiritual energy.
She grasped Yan Xueya's wrist and examined it, finding that her spiritual energy was not disordered. Although the old injury was still there, it had not recurred. She breathed a sigh of relief before asking, "Is there anything you want to say?"
Yan Xueya looked up, the hesitation between her brows gone, and sighed, "Never mind... I was just thinking about some things, it's nothing."
After hesitating, she still decided not to tell anyone about the demonic possession that Tusheng had mentioned to her.
After all, the cultivation world generally despises the demon race, and the irreconcilable conflict between immortals and demons has existed since ancient times.
It is said that she deeply hates the demon race, but after that incident, despite the hatred and prejudice against her race, she ultimately chose to protect her own disciple.
Although it is not uncommon for fallen demons to kill their own parents, Yan Xueya was certain that Qiao Yanshen would not become such an absurd person, nor would she be controlled by any will other than her own.
Moreover, if anything went wrong, she was confident she could subdue the other party. Now that they were master and disciple, they would share life and death, honor and disgrace. Even though they didn't spend much time together, Yan Xueya loved these two girls under her tutelage and wished them peace and well-being.
Yan Shen, I hope my teacher did not trust the wrong person.
Yan Xueya lowered her eyes, thinking to herself.
Seeing the worry on Ruan Luoying's face, she gently withdrew her hand, a familiar smile curving her lips, and said loudly, "If you don't believe me, how about we start a betting game? We'll have everyone in the sect place their bets and see if you lose 10,000 spirit stones to me first, or if I compensate you with some magic artifacts."
Both the smile on her face and the restored cheerfulness in her voice overlapped with the spirited person in her memory, as if time had reversed and returned to hundreds of years ago. Ruan Luoying was stunned for a moment, then put away her worried expression and replied, "Then let's take a gamble and see how much Xueya's apprentice can improve by the time of the competition!"
"I certainly won't let you down. Also, please send a message to Yi Xiaohan later, asking him to spar with Chi Yueying in her formation in two days!"
The woman in green raised her cup, her sleeves fluttering as if a spring breeze were caressing her face. The two drank tea instead of wine, their clinking of cups clear and resonant, a sound that seemed, for a moment, like the clinking of cups and plates accidentally knocked over during childhood play. A ray of sunlight fell into the hall, no longer cool and thin, but radiating golden light.
Just like those days when the year-round snow had not yet fallen here.
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The second area, a restaurant somewhere.
A cacophony of noise rose, growing louder as night fell and the crowd thinned. At several tables, card games and word games reached their climax, with someone shouting, their face flushed, quickly mingling with the clatter of shuffling cards. The soft, warm light, dimmed by the mingled aromas of wine, tea, and various strongly flavored snacks, rendered all the liveliness and joy as indistinct, blurring the underlying warmth and tears. In a corner, a drunken traveler lay fast asleep, her glass knocked over on the table, yet no one bothered to wake her.
A figure dressed in white entered the shop, a long sword slung over his back, resembling a dashing swordsman. His long, white robes seemed to transform into flowing crane feathers, as if he were about to ascend to immortality. This immortal, who should never have appeared in a corner like a tavern, glanced around. People were engrossed in their own entertainment, paying her no heed. A few glanced at her, but their eyes, clouded by the night's intoxication, couldn't penetrate the shimmering light emanating from her.
She found an empty seat and sat down, which happened to be by the window. The bright moonlight streamed through the windowpane, gently kissing her wrist. She simply smiled, raised her hand to brush away the moonlight, and picked up the hot tea the waiter had brought her.
"Let's go to a bar."
Having not visited a restaurant for a long time, Si Changxi had almost forgotten what kinds of alcohol existed in the world. After handing over the money, he added, "I want strong liquor."
The woman who served the tea saw that she was young and dressed elegantly in white, like a scholar, so she advised her, "Miss, don't listen to others who say that wine tastes good or can relieve all your sorrows. You should take care of your health."
"Thank you for your concern, Auntie. I will know my limits." The young man in white smiled slightly, appearing to be just an ordinary scholar, and gently placed the money into the other person's hand.
The woman nodded and walked towards the counter. Si Changxi sipped her tea while scanning her surroundings. As a cultivator at the peak of the Nine Domains, she could perceive the surrounding activity even without her eyes, yet she stubbornly looked at everything.
The drunkards made soft breathing sounds, while some, perhaps exhausted, snored loudly. Most of the sober ones were playing games, drinking cup after cup as the crystalline dice rolled. Their conversations, initially clear, gradually became slurred; a few drank silently, while others praised the delicious snacks and loudly ordered more. Faintly, cries and laughter mingled. Si Changxi listened intently and looked in the direction of the noise, seeing someone slumped over a table, shoulders heaving, breathing heavily and laboredly. Others laughed heartily, beaming with pride at winning money, shouting for two more jugs of wine.
The wine had been served, and she poured herself a bowl, looking at her reflection in the dim light.
Clad in white with jet-black hair, her eyes as still as an ancient well, carrying a long sword as if ready to roam the world, the joy she exuded was beyond words. She raised a hand to her face, pursed her lips, and finally a trace of melancholy appeared in her eyes, revealing a striking resemblance to that person.
Their eyes, both as dark as ink, were never alike, for from the very beginning of his memory, the white-clad youth's eyes had been devoid of joy or sorrow; their gentleness, when touched, was not fiery, but cold.
The wind blew in from behind the window, its sharp edges cutting into her skin along with the moonlight. Si Changxi drank the wine, then refilled it, the bottle quickly becoming empty. A faint blush gradually spread across her fair cheeks. She didn't need to use her spiritual power to counteract the effects of the wine or even guide the intoxication to take hold. It was as if she had returned to a time before she cultivated, when she was just an ordinary child, led by a boy in white through the streets of the mortal world, her courage drawn not for anything else, but simply for a string of glistening candied hawthorns.
But that person cherished her the most. From the first time Si Changxi spoke, he knew that the child loved sweets. Without her having to muster the courage to ask, he would buy her lots of candy and stuff them into her arms every time. She ate them until her heart was overflowing with happiness, as if it had been scalded and squeezed so much that her teeth rotted along with them. She gradually recovered after cultivating, but she suffered a lot in the process. Now, when she recalls it, it is all irretrievable tenderness.
The vengeful wanderer stabbed the man with his sword, drawing blood. After a few rounds of fighting, the sound of the man falling was heard. She turned around and called Si Changxi, who was tightly protected by spiritual power, over. Seeing the boy trembling because of her blood, she thought he was frightened by his enemy and quickly took out a piece of candy and put it to her lips.
"Come on, you won't be afraid after eating the candy."
When she opened her mouth, what melted wasn't sweetness, but blood. The smell of the blood on that person was too strong, and it was even colder in her mouth, like a ball of fine snow. After melting, there were thorns hidden underneath, making it impossible for her to swallow, and tears streamed down her face.
Later, Si Liuhua understood a little and thought that she was afraid of blood and the horrifying scene. She never imagined that Si Changxi was afraid that she would get hurt and disappear.
As the intoxication took hold, her hand trembled and knocked over the teacup. The cold tea spilled onto the table, reflecting the young man's flushed face, like rosy clouds flowing over white clouds, revealing all his emotions and desires.
If only it weren't me, but her. If there were still a shred of affection in her heart, would Si Liuhua shed tears on the same night when she thinks of herself?
Without using spiritual power to soothe the effects of the alcohol, her thoughts became chaotic. Only hazy voices remained in her mind, sometimes near, sometimes far. One moment it was Si Liuhua calling her "Chang Xi," the next it was a childhood friend calling her "Chang Yi." The voices were disordered, finally merging into a sigh and a "I'm sorry" that she still didn't fully understand.
The young man's grip tightened unconsciously, as if he weren't holding a teacup, but rather grasping the flowing moonlight and squeezing the person's wrist. She bit her lip until it almost bled, and finally let out a soft cry:
"Sister."
This sound was like breaking free of long-sealed shackles, allowing all the words hidden in one's heart to surge forth.
“Let’s go together, leave the Nine Realms, leave all worldly strife, stop cultivating, and no one will find us, okay? Let’s return to the mortal world, back to our tribe…”
The boundaries between love and hate are blurred. After that person left, everything shattered into countless pieces, no longer distinguishable from one another. Love turned into hate, and hate took root in the very flesh and blood of love. The deeper one thinks, the more it hurts as if flesh and bone are being ripped away, foaming between every already strong and clean bone, becoming tears that flow in the heart but do not spill from the eyes.
For thousands of years, Si Changxi remained in the same place, piecing together these scattered fragments, only to have her hands cut and bleeding. When she came to her senses and looked back, it felt like a dream in broad daylight. When the dream ended, she became someone who did not want to wake up, and the way she wandered around in the same place must have been extremely ridiculous.
But if my sister could come back, this dream could continue.
The force in her hand slipped, and the teacup shattered with a clear, ringing sound. The sound was like the tolling of a fateful bell, startling the woman from her murmurs and extinguishing her hazy, hopeless dreams.
The boundaries of the melting were clear, and what lay before him were no longer shimmering shadows, nor the gentle faces of his memory, but rather a host of vibrant people. Si Changxi lowered his eyes, his fingers idly playing with the fragments, a chill creeping from his fingertips.
A broken mirror can never be mended, and a shattered cup will never be whole again.
Those who have compassion for all living beings will no longer walk the same path as the demon lord in the eyes of the world.
Si Changxi stood up, the blush on her face gone, leaving only her usual gentle smile. She sheathed the sword and, taking advantage of the fact that no one was looking, made a hand seal to change out of her white robes, as if she didn't want them to stay on her for even a moment longer. After doing this, the young man took the silver and walked towards the shopkeeper.
After paying the bill, including the cost of the teacup, she walked out of the tavern, gazing at the bright moon in the sky. The falling moonlight bathed her in its glow, and she suppressed a sigh, her thoughts swirling within her—
The world is full of countless specks of dust; love and affection are too insignificant to concern us.
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Author's note: This is to lay the groundwork for the storylines of other characters!
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