Ziqing had barely rested for a little over an hour when the sky began to darken. She had no idea that, within this illusion, even the weather itself was under Xuanyuan Lige’s control — and Xuanyuan Lige wanted her to rest a little longer.
Seeing the sky darken, Ziqing turned back, her expression earnest. “A’Li, it’s already gotten dark. Why don’t we start tomorrow morning instead?”
Jun Beiyue chuckled quietly off to the side, and Xuanyuan Lige nodded seriously in agreement, while Baili Weisheng, lying sprawled across a tree branch nearby, had already dozed off without anyone noticing.
That single word “A’Li,” spoken so naturally by Ziqing, struck a chord — Jun Beiyue and Xuanyuan Lige had spent several hours talking, and both felt as though they’d met each other far too late in life.
From enemies to friends, so naturally, neither had noticed the shift — perhaps, deep down, neither had ever truly considered the other a mortal enemy after all!
The night was unusually still. The cliffs of the Innocence Ravine should have been battered by fierce winds, and yet once night fell, even the howling of the wind had vanished entirely.
The four of them sat together on the cliff’s edge, Ziqing in the middle, with Jun Beiyue and Xuanyuan Lige seated cross-legged on either side of her, and Baili Weisheng beside Xuanyuan Lige, one leg propped up, a blade of grass dangling from his mouth from who knew where, looking every bit like a scoundrel.
Beneath the vast, brilliant canopy of stars, the four silhouettes seemed so very small — and in this moment, all grudges, all feelings, all foolishness became utterly unimportant. All that mattered was that the woman seated in the middle was so very fortunate — even if the sky itself were to fall, there would be more than enough people beside her to help hold it up.
“Look, a shooting star!” Ziqing suddenly cried out, breaking the stillness of the night.
A single shooting star trailed a long tail of light across the sky, the densely packed stars hanging so low it felt as though they were right overhead, and the shooting star seemed to streak by right before their very eyes.
“Did you see it?” Ziqing asked Jun Beiyue eagerly, and he smiled and nodded.
Xuanyuan Lige watched it all unfold, smiling faintly — and just then, something remarkable happened. As the smile at the corners of his lips slowly bloomed wider, the pitch-black night sky gradually began to rain down shooting stars.
Gradually, from all directions, more and more of them appeared, one after another, streaking across the sky in an endless “whoosh whoosh whoosh” — like an entire festival of stars!
Ziqing was so delighted she nearly cried out. She leapt to her feet, foolishly reaching out to try to catch the shooting stars, and quickly realized she couldn’t catch them at all, laughing cheerfully at her own foolishness.
This woman — sometimes so clever, and sometimes utterly hopeless.
Baili Weisheng and Jun Beiyue both knew this was something Xuanyuan Lige had conjured, but of course, neither said a word to give it away — because, in this very moment, Ziqing was so happy, so purely, simply happy.
Jun Beiyue found himself unconsciously reminiscing — it seemed that, ever since he’d first known this woman, he had never once seen her smile with such pure, unguarded happiness.
And could Baili Weisheng and Xuanyuan Lige have felt any differently?
How they wished this moment could simply stop, could become eternal.
And yet, no one knew — no one could know — that the truth of the deserted island, the secret of “Parting Sorrow,” lay right before them; tonight’s rest was only so that tomorrow, they might play out every last secret held within “Parting Sorrow.”
In this moment, their hearts held only thoughts of the deserted island, of “Parting Sorrow” — no one had considered, not even Xuanyuan Lige himself, that the piece “Sorrow of Parting” had already ended, and yet they hadn’t left the illusion — so how, exactly, would they ever manage to leave it at all?
Of course, none of them knew that for every single day that passed within the illusion, an entire month passed in the world outside.
And at this very moment, in the world beyond the illusion, Xiong Xiaobao had already arrived in Nanzhao!
Nanzhao was embroiled in chaos and war — with the exception of the Jiao and Meng clans, every other tribe had been drawn into the fighting, the conflict raging in utter turmoil and disorder. The southern border had long since been thrown wide open, and for Xiong Xiaobao, coming and going was easier than ever. Rather than seeking out Baili Xiaosheng the moment he arrived in Nanzhao, he instead made his way first to the Poison Den.
He reasoned that the moment he found Baili Xiaosheng and told her about Baili Weisheng’s situation, that girl would surely rush straight back to Da Zhou to find her master — she’d hardly have the heart to accompany him to the Poison Den for fun, would she?
And so, he’d decided to go there alone first.
Under ordinary circumstances, the Poison Den of the Medicine Clan was at its most beautiful in the dead of night — the entire stone mountain, riddled with hundreds upon hundreds of carved-out openings, each cave alight with lanterns, looking from afar like a scattering of brilliant stars fallen to earth.
But at this moment, the Poison Den lay in utter darkness!
Xiong Xiaobao stood alone atop the towering cliff, dressed in dark, tight-fitting attire much like Jun Beiyue’s own. Though not particularly tall, his lean frame nonetheless gave off an impression of capability and maturity beyond his years — anyone unfamiliar with him would surely have mistaken him for a young assassin.
At nearly seven years of age, combined with his mature temperament and his unusual life experiences, Xiong Xiaobao had, in truth, long since shed the milk-scented innocence of a toddler, the childish softness of before replaced with the handsome bearing of a youth.
Unlike his usual self, when alone, his face was largely expressionless, cold and distant, the innate aloofness and detachment bred into his very bones laid bare for all to see.
It wasn’t that he had suddenly changed — it was simply that certain things had always been hidden deep within him, with no occasion to surface until now.
Gazing at the pitch-black Poison Den, Xiong Xiaobao knew at once that something had happened.
Either the Poison Den had been invaded, or it had thrown itself entirely into the chaos of Nanzhao’s war, lending its strength to the Medicine Clan — but even so, it shouldn’t have emptied out entirely like this!
A flicker of suspicion crossed Xiong Xiaobao’s eyes, and he murmured to himself, “Where’s Shiliang?”
Shiliang was the poison corpse Baili Weisheng had raised — a constitution remarkably similar to his mother’s, immune to all manner of poison, vulnerable only to medicinal toxins. In a certain sense, Shiliang was actually an excellent candidate for raising a gu!
The thought struck him, and he immediately summoned the Zizhu Beast, leaping onto its back and streaking toward the Poison Den like a shadow.
The Poison Den was riddled with poison traps everywhere — for anyone who had never been there before, it would be nothing short of hell.
But for Xiong Xiaobao and his poison-immune beast, both wholly immune to every toxin, it was as easy as walking through an empty land, effortless in every way.
And yet, what stunned Xiong Xiaobao was that the Poison Den appeared to have been utterly swept clean, emptied out entirely!
He searched several of the cave entrances, searched the main cavern deep within the mountain, even searched the cave in the rear hills that Baili Xiaosheng had once mentioned to him — and found absolutely nothing!
Never mind people — there wasn’t even a single poisonous creature left. Everything seemed to have vanished into thin air.
How could this be?
Where were the people? Where were all the poisonous creatures? Where was Shiliang?
“Does Baili Xiaosheng know about this?” Xiong Xiaobao muttered to himself, and without lingering any longer, turned and left.
But not long after he departed, a pale figure slowly emerged from the mouth of the cave — dressed in white, gentle and refined, courteous and warm — none other than the Sheng Clan’s illegitimate son, Sheng Zimo.
He watched Xiong Xiaobao’s retreating figure, his expression gradually turning dangerous.
“That boy… looks awfully familiar!” Just then, a familiar voice came from behind him. Out of the darkness, a figure slowly emerged — and it was none other than the head of the Xiao clan, who had once played a duet with Sheng Zimo that very day!
“Jun Buli. The son of Jun Beiyue and Han Ziqing,” Sheng Zimo said, each word deliberate and precise.
The Xiao clan head was startled. “Why has he come? What’s he here for?”
“Never mind why he’s come — just make sure Baili Xiaosheng stays well hidden!” Sheng Zimo said coldly.
“Heh, don’t worry. That wild girl has long since been under my control,” the Xiao clan head said, full of confidence.