Chapter 30 Dreams are horses, needles are saddles
The red-hot silver needle, wrapped in the heat of the candlelight, resolutely pierced into Ling Zixia's jade-white forearm.
A subtle "sizzling" sound rang out in the quiet room, as if a drop of ice water fell into boiling hot oil.
A unique smell of burnt flesh and blood instantly mixed with the sweet fragrance of the Nether Candle, forming a strange and heart-pounding fragrance.
The intense pain was like a flash of lightning, instantly running through her meridians and every part of her body, making her consciousness clearer than ever before.
There was no trace of pain on Ling Zixia's face. Her deep eyes reflected the dancing candlelight, as calm as a thousand-year-old cold spring.
She slowly pulled out the still warm silver needle, allowing the hideous burn to form a clear and glaring mark on her arm.
At the same time, on the roof of Jingsiyuan, Zhao Wenxuan, who was holding his breath and waiting for the result, saw the scene in front of him begin to show a subtle distortion.
The night wind seemed to be filled with honey, becoming sticky and warm, blowing on the face with a drowsy warmth.
The candlelight shining through the window lattice below is no longer a single orange-yellow color, but is composed of circles of colorful halos, like the glow of a fairyland.
The fragrance produced by the reversal of the Nether Candle and Mirage Soup was gently and irresistibly invading the depths of his consciousness through every breath he exhaled.
Zhao Wenxuan shook his head violently, trying to dispel the sudden tiredness, but found that his eyelids were as heavy as a thousand pounds.
The green tiles under his feet were no longer hard and cold, but instead had a soft touch like clouds, making it almost impossible for him to stand steadily.
The world spun slowly in his eyes, the moon shattered into thousands of silver butterflies, and the lanterns under the eaves turned into swaying red dandelions.
The last bit of clear mind completely sank into the boundless sweet illusion. His body softened and he leaned silently on the cold spine, falling into the dream that Ling Zixia had carefully woven for him.
The dream began in the Jingsi Temple where he was at the moment.
However, the Jingsiyuan here is completely different from the reality.
There are no ordinary flowers and plants in the courtyard. Instead, there are strange plants that emit a faint glow, with leaves like jade carvings and flowers like colored glass.
What flows in the air is no longer mundane dust, but visible specks of light interwoven with gold and silver. Every breath carries the fragrance of grass and the richness of medicinal herbs.
Zhao Wenxuan found himself standing in the middle of the courtyard. He could see his hands when he looked down, and everything seemed so real.
He took a step forward, and ripples spread out on the stone pavement under his feet. Wherever the ripples passed, the glowing plants swayed gently, as if greeting him.
At this moment, the door of Jingsiyuan opened silently.
Ling Zixia walked out of the door slowly, still wearing the same simple and elegant dress, but her whole body seemed to be shrouded in a layer of faint moonlight, making her look illusory and unreal.
Her eyes were no longer filled with the usual timidity and obedience, but a kind of detached indifference, as if she was overlooking the changes in the world.
Zhao Wenxuan's heart suddenly sank. He wanted to speak, but found that he could not make any sound. He could only stare at the incredible scene in front of him as a bystander.
Ling Zixia didn't look at him, but walked straight towards a spiritual plant in the courtyard that looked like dragon beard grass.
She stretched out her slender fingers and gently touched the leaves of the plant.
The spiritual plant that originally emitted a soft white light suddenly shone brightly, and its leaves quickly stretched and changed, eventually forming a dazzling golden flower at the top, as if it were made of pure gold.
Zhao Wenxuan's pupils contracted violently. This scene was so similar to the one in Wenxinzhai that day when she transformed the highly poisonous dragon beard grass into gentian resurrection grass.
After Ling Zixia did all this, she finally turned around slowly and her eyes fell on Zhao Wenxuan for the first time.
That gaze was emotionless and cold, as if a god was examining an ant that had accidentally entered his realm.
"What you see is reality."
A voice rang directly in his mind. It was not heard through his ears, but a resonance of his soul, cold and ethereal.
Zhao Wenxuan's whole body trembled. He stared at Ling Zixia's lips, but her lips didn't move at all.
"Who are you?"
He screamed wildly in his heart, and as soon as this thought arose, the voice sounded again.
"I am the continuation of the Ling family's bloodline and the bearer of the Medicine King's legacy."
As the voice fell, Ling Zixia slowly raised her left arm and gently rolled up her sleeve.
On her forearm, a brand new burn mark, black with a hint of blood red, suddenly appeared in front of Zhao Wenxuan's eyes. The shape and details of the wound were so clear that it suffocated him.
Zhao Wenxuan's gaze was like being sucked by a magnet, fixed on the wound. An indescribable chill ran from his tailbone all the way up to the top of his head.
Why? Why did he dream of her being injured? And such a specific wound, one he had never seen before?
"This scar is the price I paid for peeping into the forbidden realm."
The voice seemed to understand all his doubts and gave the answer indifferently.
“The truth is like the scorching sun. Anyone who looks directly at it will be burned.”
Ling Zi...Xia's dream incarnation said this, stretched out his right hand, and gently covered the wound on his left arm.
A soft, life-giving green light emanated from her palm.
Under Zhao Wenxuan's horrified gaze, the hideous burns began to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The charred dead skin fell off, revealing new pink tender flesh, the blood flowed back, and the redness and swelling subsided. The whole process took only a few breaths.
When Ling Zixia moved her right hand away, her arm had returned to its smooth, flawless white state, as if the shocking scar just now was just an absurd illusion.
No, it's not an illusion.
Where the brand disappeared, a faint golden mark shaped like a blade of grass was left behind. It flashed and disappeared before finally fading under the skin.
"You...what are you?"
Zhao Wenxuan's soul was trembling, and the cognition he had built up throughout his life was completely shattered at this moment.
This is not martial arts, nor medical skills, it is a miracle, a realm that mortals cannot understand.
Ling Zixia did not answer his question, but took two steps forward. For the first time, a trace of imperceptible compassion appeared in the depths of her indifferent eyes.
"Zhao Wenxuan, you've gone to great lengths to find out my secret."
"But have you ever thought that everything you firmly believe in may have been a carefully constructed lie from the very beginning?"
Her words were like a heavy hammer, hitting Zhao Wenxuan's defenses hard.
"What lie?" he asked anxiously in his mind.
"You thought the evidence for the huge case ten years ago was irrefutable, is that true?"
Ling Zixia's incarnation in the dream raised her hand slightly, and the surrounding scene changed instantly.
The glowing courtyard disappeared, replaced by pitch-black darkness. The only source of light came from the water mirror beneath their feet.
In the water mirror, the scene changes, showing the gloomy and damp prison cell of the Dali Temple in the past.
He saw the man known as the "King of Medicine", Ling Zixia's father, his father-in-law, Doctor Ling.
In the dream, Doctor Ling looked haggard and dressed in prison clothes, but his eyes were still as clear as stars, with an unyielding spirit.
He saw the cold face of his father Zhao Wuji, standing outside the prison door condescendingly, saying some inaudible words.
Then, the scene changed, and he saw a bowl of medicine being sent into the cell.
Doctor Ling looked at the bowl of medicine, a sad and resolute smile appeared on his face, and then he drank it all in one gulp.
The next moment, Doctor Ling was bleeding from all seven orifices and fell on the straw mat in pain, his life force rapidly fading.
"My father dedicated his life to saving countless lives, but he never used poison, let alone made it."
Ling Zixia's voice sounded faintly in the darkness, carrying a hint of desolation that did not belong to mortals.
"Did my father really choose that bowl of poisonous soup of 'suicide out of fear of sin'?"
"Zhao Wenxuan, what role did your father, the current Prime Minister, play in this 'truth'?"
A series of questions, like thunder, exploded in Zhao Wenxuan's mind.
He wanted to refute, wanted to denounce that this was a lie that misleads the people, but the scene presented in the dream was so real. The unwillingness and resentment in Doctor Ling's eyes before his death were like two sharp knives, piercing his soul and causing him great pain.
The picture in the water mirror changed again.
This time, what appeared was a magnificent palace, and a woman dressed in luxurious concubine's clothes was handing an exquisite brocade box to a eunuch with a blurred face.
Zhao Wenxuan felt vaguely familiar with the woman's profile, as if he had seen her somewhere.
"The 'Seven Days of Death' that poisoned the heir to the throne was not created by our Ling family."
"The true source has long been obscured by the dust of power."
Ling Zi...Xia's incarnation in the dream, stretched out her finger and gently tapped on the water mirror.
The face of the woman in concubine's attire suddenly became clear.
Defei!
It turned out to be Concubine De!
Zhao Wenxuan's mind went blank. He could not connect this matter with the peaceful Concubine De.
"This is impossible..." He denied in his heart.
"True and false, real and fake, all depend on your thoughts."
"You can't see through me because you're blind to the deep hatred of the person next to you."
"You doubt me because you haven't even delved into your own father's great achievements."
After Ling Zixia's incarnation finished speaking, the entire dream world began to shake violently, the water mirror shattered, and countless golden cracks appeared on the dark sky.
She looked at Zhao Wenxuan deeply for the last time. Her eyes were extremely complicated, with pity, ridicule, and ice-cold scrutiny.
"Remember, Zhao Wenxuan."
"When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss... also gazes into you."
The moment the words fell, the entire dream completely collapsed, turning into billions of light points that swallowed him up.
On the roof, Zhao Wenxuan suddenly opened his eyes.
The first rays of dawn were piercing the eastern sky, bringing with them the chill of the early morning.
He was cold all over, his forehead was covered with cold sweat, he was gasping for breath, and his heart was beating wildly.
That dream... was so real.
Every word and every picture in the dream were like branding irons, deeply engraved in his mind and could not be erased.
He subconsciously touched his body and found it intact, without a trace of abnormality.
Is it an illusion?
Is this a bizarre dream caused by the combined effects of the Mirage Soup and the Netherworld Candle?
It must be like this.
He forced himself to calm down. He was Zhao Wenxuan, the son of the prime minister. How could he be shaken by an absurd dream?
However, when he propped himself up and subconsciously looked towards the courtyard of Jingsi Temple, his breathing suddenly stopped.
In the courtyard, Ling Zixia had just opened the door and stretched lazily, her posture lazy and comfortable, as if she had just woken up from a sound sleep.
The early morning sunlight shone on her plain face, casting a soft halo.
She seemed completely unaware of the presence of someone on the roof and moved around casually.
Then she raised her left arm and gently rolled up her loose sleeves, as if she wanted to let her arm bathe in the morning light.
At that moment, Zhao Wenxuan's eyes suddenly widened to the limit, and the blood in his body seemed to be completely frozen at this moment.
On Ling Zixia's forearm, which was as smooth as fresh snow, a brand new burn mark, in the same position and shape as in the dream, was clearly and hideously displayed under the morning light.
At this moment, reality and dreams overlapped in the most terrifying and incomprehensible way.
Zhao Wenxuan only felt a chill rushing from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, making his hands and feet numb and his mind blank.
She knows!
She knows everything!
Not only did she know he was on the roof and his plan, she could even... control his dreams!
This is not a human, it is a demon, a god, a being that he cannot understand at all.
Boundless fear, like a cold big hand, tightly grasped his heart.
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