Chapter 112 The Soul Returns to Heaven and Earth...
"How do you think you got this curse?" Mu Qi laughed, his whole body trembling. There was no trace of kinship in his eyes, only cruelty. "If your mother hadn't placed the restriction on you and protected you as you grew up, you would have become like them in the Desolate Abyss. You've seen it yourself, how tragic that is."
Meng Chiwan clenched her fists and gritted her teeth to keep that vulnerability from showing.
The Qi-Nourishing Pill that her mother obtained for her was no different from the Blood Spirit Pill she knew now. She couldn't understand why her mother did this. Was it because she had difficulty guiding her Qi into her body back then? Was it a shortcut her mother had found for her?
But her mother clearly told her that it didn't matter if she never learned it in her whole life; being an ordinary person was a good thing.
In an instant, the words of the Yanxi Pill and her mother kept swirling in her mind, stirring up all her thoughts and causing her to have a splitting headache.
She frowned, unable to comprehend the logic behind it all. She desperately wanted the truth, but Meng Ting'er was long gone, and the answer to the question might never be found.
That's the saddest thing.
Meng Chiwan gripped her sword tightly again, then swung it down!
The sword's edge pierced the clouds with a chilling force, its intent resonating powerfully. Meng Chiwan's thoughts were far from calm, yet her swordplay was sharper than ever before.
Even if we can't kill him, it's enough that we can keep him from being distracted by helping the demonic monk. We can trust our companions for the rest.
Mu Qi seemed to have anticipated her reaction, and his figure moved behind her like a ghost, only to be stabbed in the face by her sword in an instant!
Mu Qi's wide sleeves swept across her face, and a chilling demonic aura emanated from them. His eyes were as dark and cold as a deep pool, and his eyebrows and eyes had a touch of bewitching charm, making him appear extremely evil.
Meng Chiwan was caught off guard, and the evil energy invaded her body, causing her face to turn pale in an instant.
Mu Qi's laughter, shrouded in the dim demonic energy, sounded even more sinister: "You are my daughter. Do you think that by washing away your bloodline, you can escape the fate of becoming a demon? You should stand by my side and find your mother with me."
Meng Chiwan's face was pale, like a freshly baked white pancake. She pursed her lips, smiled, and squeezed each word out from her throat: "You...can't...think...about...it."
Mu Qi lightly brushed his fingertips across the hilt of her sword, and blood instantly dripped down the blade. He stared at Meng Chiwan, his eyes flashing with a cold light, as if he were weighing an object.
Should we keep Meng Chiwan?
Meng Chiwan clearly gleaned this message from his eyes, which were brimming with murderous intent, but she felt no fear whatsoever. If she were to die here, it would be a fitting end to her life's work. At least she would die for slaying a demon, not for being killed by her wife to prove her path.
Thinking of this, she could actually smile. The past seemed so long ago, so very long ago. So long that the protagonist of the story was no longer recognizable.
One's fate is unknown, the other's life hangs by a thread.
She preferred to believe that life or death was uncertain rather than draw a conclusion.
Things spiraled out of control afterward; no one could have predicted that Mu Qi would go to such a state of madness.
Meng Chiwan breathed heavily, her dark eyes slowly turning as she tried to expel the unwanted demonic energy from her body.
But the more she resisted it, the more powerful the clash of demonic energy became.
She felt as if she were being cooked over a raging fire, and couldn't help but sweat profusely.
Finally, she knelt down, her knuckles pressed against her chest turning white like withered bones. The demonic energy, like a malignant tumor clinging to the bone, spread along her spiritual veins. Wherever it passed, the pure spiritual energy clashed with it, alternately gnawing at her internal organs, causing her meridians to swell and ache as if they were about to burst.
When the pain reached its peak, cold sweat soaked through her clothes, and strands of hair clung to her pale, paper-white cheeks, yet she refused to reveal even the slightest hint of vulnerability.
With each scorching breath, she could clearly feel the words "unbearable pain" being written in her body.
Mu Qi watched leisurely from the side, as if admiring an interesting painting.
He didn't help the evil monk because the evil monk didn't need his help at all.
His dark eyes shifted to the retreating Immortal Alliance disciples, and he smiled with satisfaction.
Those disobedient demons had long been refined and fused into the demon monk's body, and none of the immortal disciples he killed escaped either.
He raised his hand to support his chin, his fingertips lightly touching his cheek, when he suddenly remembered the so-called Fellow Daoist Mu and Lin Shuchun that Meng Chiwan had been asking him about.
Oh, them? Which batch of people was he fed to the demonic monk? There was also an old man and a child whose names I can't recall... Meng Chiwan should have seen them before.
I can't remember some of them. That's okay, they're not important anyway.
He tilted his head slightly, smiled nonchalantly, and his pupils were filled with pleasure.
Things were going as he had anticipated; once the Immortal Alliance was eliminated, he would be able to see Meng Ting'er. After all, how could Meng Ting'er allow him to wreak havoc on the lives of so many?
He was convinced of this, as if someone had already imprinted his thoughts on him.
Out of sheer boredom, he casually crushed the golden core of a disciple of the Immortal Alliance and destroyed his spiritual veins. Then, looking at his hands covered in blood, he frowned slightly, lost in thought.
Then, as if sensing something, he turned his gaze to Meng Chiwan.
Meng Chiwan knelt on the ground, her head bowed, her pupils gradually losing focus, as if she had run out of fuel.
Mu Qi thought to herself, perhaps she wouldn't just die like this. In her memory, she should be like a weed; she shouldn't just die like this.
But she gradually lost her breath and knelt on the blood-stained ground, her skirt spread out like a delicate flower.
Mu Qi's brows furrowed even more, and his heart pounded faster and faster. He raised his hand and slowly touched his heart, the movement very gentle, as if he knew what was about to happen.
He seemed to sense something, his gaze fixed on Meng Chiwan, unmoving.
The waves trembled, and the sword's cry echoed through the blood mist.
Through the thick dust, he could clearly see that Jinglan used her last bit of strength to pry open the storage bag at Meng Chiwan's waist, and then a simple-looking jade hairpin fell out and hit the ground.
First came a clear, melodious clang, then the jade hairpin broke into three pieces. The sound of the shattering was short and distinct, with a faint aftertaste that dispelled all the surrounding demonic energy.
The sound made his heart tighten. His wildly beating heart finally calmed down.
It should be said that he became completely quiet, as if he had fallen into a boundless deep sea, and could no longer hear the noise of the world.
The moment the jade hairpin shattered, the aura of the Moonflower in his hand intensified, and that aura slowly climbed down Mu Qi's body, reaching the jade hairpin on the ground.
Those auras clung to Mu Qi, causing a shiver to run through him. His cheeks even flushed slightly, as if someone had gently caressed them.
Meng Chiwan's unfocused pupils slowly cleared, and the demonic and spiritual energy within her body subsided, giving her hope for life once again.
She knelt on the ground, slowly raised her head, and saw the figure that had condensed when their auras converged.
There was only a silhouette, yet it matched the painting Meng Chiwan had seen at Old Man Chen's house.
Meng Ting'er, the eldest daughter of the Meng family in Beijing and Taiwan.
The surroundings were chaotic, with the echoes of swords ringing out incessantly. In this scene of irreconcilable conflict between immortals and demons, humans and demons roared and clamored, determined to cast the alien into the Ninefold Purgatory, to suppress it under endless suffering for eternity.
The golden lotus inside Meng Chiwan flew out and landed on Meng Ting'er's head, slowly scattering golden light, making her originally illusory figure appear more solid and clear.
Meng Ting'er's voice wasn't loud, and it would have been easily drowned out by the noise in an instant, but at this moment, Mu Qi and Meng Chiwan heard it very clearly.
"Chi Wan, I'm so glad I can still see what you looked like when you grew up. I remember you had a pair of beautiful, bright eyes when you were little, and you still look beautiful now." Meng Ting'er's voice was gentle and soothing, like a stream flowing slowly in spring, seeping into Meng Chi Wan's heart inch by inch.
So the bitterness slowly faded away, and the blame she had for not coming to see her was also diluted, leaving only red-rimmed eyes filled with longing.
I hate Meng Ting'er.
I like Meng Ting'er.
I miss Meng Ting'er very much.
"...Mother." In the end, he could only squeeze out the word "Mother" in a trembling voice.
Meng Ting'er smiled faintly, a few silver lights falling on her radiant cheeks.
Meng Chiwan guessed that those might be Meng Ting'er's tears.
"You should be blaming me for abandoning you and not seeing you, and for clearly telling you not to learn Qi cultivation, yet still feeding you the Qi Refining Pill. But Chi Wan, I've seen you many times. You are the child I risked my life to save. You were not accepted by the world and should not have survived. But you are my child. I fed you the Qi Refining Pill to nourish you and placed a restriction on you to protect you from the curse. Fortunately, you finally grew up safely."
“You don’t need to be afraid. Your Yanxi Pill was made by me, using my own blood essence. It only used a trace of the blood essence left by Shimo. It did not harm him or any strangers. You are clean and innocent. There is no need to blame yourself or feel ashamed.”
Meng Ting'er spoke softly and gently, as if she wanted to tell her everything that she hadn't had a chance to say before.
Meng Chiwan's body trembled slightly, her heart aching so badly she almost couldn't breathe: "And what about you? What price did you pay to save me?"
“Fate is hard to defy. Since I have defied it, I must bear the punishment.” Meng Ting’er’s voice still carried a smile. She was saying something that was clearly sad, but she still looked calm and collected.
Meng Chiwan sobbed, large tears streaming down her face, staining her blood-stained robes.
As Meng Ting'er finished speaking, she seemed to realize something, sighed, and looked at the person in front of her who was embracing her lingering shadow without regard for her feelings.
His hand passed through her and then back, his once sinister eyes now filled with panic and helplessness.
He deceived himself, even when the truth was right in front of him, he refused to believe it.
Meng Ting'er is really dead. How could that be?
Mu Qi looked at his trembling hands, then looked up at Meng Ting'er's speechless face.
Meng Ting'er gently shook her head and looked at Mu Qi, saying, "Qi, come and keep me company. I feel so cold here, even colder than that rainy day in the winter of the thirteenth year of Zhaoye."
Mu Qi trembled, her eyes red-rimmed.
Meng Chiwan had never seen Mu Qi like this before. At this moment, he knelt on the ground, desperately trying to hold onto the illusory image, but could only pass through it in vain.
He was trembling.
He was crying.
The mark he had etched on himself finally crumbled at this moment, completely losing its effectiveness.
Meng Ting'er stopped speaking, neither blaming nor expressing longing, nothing at all.
She looked at him quietly, her eyes shining, just like in the spring of a certain year during the Zhaoye era when Mu Qi said he wanted to marry her.
Come keep me company.
"good."
In the winter of the thirteenth year of Zhaoye, spring was in full bloom in my hometown.
A rare guest has returned.
Everything is peaceful.
Author's note: The day has finally come!
To be honest, this is my first time trying to tell a story. Because I didn't have an outline and didn't do any serious preparation, and many bad things happened three times, I had to stop updating repeatedly. Sometimes I even forgot what I had said before, including foreshadowing and plot points... There must be a lot of problems with my storytelling, so please forgive me!
I've thought of many, many versions of the ending. I originally wanted to write a happy ending, but when I got to this point in the story, I suddenly felt that maybe it should end here. At least, the main story might end here.
I will be updating the side stories next, which will likely have a relatively happy ending, and I will also supplement some of the stories in the text.
Thank you to all my readers who have supported me! See you in the bonus chapter!
(I was so excited when I typed the last three words of the text!)
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