Xuanyuan Lige’s question was exactly what everyone else wanted to know as well.
This illusion was Liuxian Island, and the fourteen-character musical cipher the musician had left behind claimed that Lament of Parting could lead them home—which meant, without a doubt, that they still hadn’t found the real illusion of the isolated island.
This woman’s appearance was the key.
The woman glanced at Xuanyuan Lige, then suddenly dropped her mischievous smile, sat down beside them, and let out a long sigh. “Ahh…”
Ziqing glanced around at everyone, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, but she spoke up anyway. “Are you a spirit of the isolated island?”
Unexpectedly, the woman didn’t dodge the question at all. She simply nodded. “Yes. My father was of the Dream Clan; my mother, of the isolated island’s people.”
“Then why are you the only one here?” Ziqing asked again.
At this question, the woman sighed once more. “I was abandoned. I’ve kept watch here for over twenty years, and I still haven’t managed to cut down this Fusang sacred tree.”
The moment these words left her mouth, Ziqing immediately recalled that legend—that to reach the isolated island, one needed a boat built from the wood of the Fusang sacred tree.
Could that legend actually be true—only it had to happen within this illusion, not in the real world?
This entire world had been created by the musician of Nanzhao. He’d left behind Lament of Parting precisely so future generations could follow the trail here—so why would he also set up so many obstacles along the way?
The question flashed through Ziqing’s mind, but she had no time to dwell on it. Just as she was about to press further, Baili Weisheng cut in first, asking probingly, “Hey, you brat, why do you need to cut down the Fusang sacred tree?”
To his surprise, the woman shot him an indignant glare. “I’m several hundred years older than you, and you’re calling me ‘brat’?”
At a time like this, everyone else was practically dying of impatience, yet this woman could still trade barbs with Baili Weisheng.
Baili Weisheng took a deep breath and let it go, saying nothing further.
Seeing him back down, the woman gave a playful smile and continued, “To build a boat, of course! There’s not a single soul on this whole island. I thought I’d sail out and search to see if there’s anyone else out there.”
At these words, Ziqing frowned immediately. A complicated look flashed through Jun Beiyue’s eyes, though his expression remained composed, while Baili Weisheng and Xuanyuan Lige exchanged a glance and fell silent as well.
It seemed the situation wasn’t quite what they’d imagined—this woman knew only that she was a spirit, but had no knowledge whatsoever of this world.
“I was already dead, and I don’t even know why I ended up here. All I know is that I’m a spirit—immortal, undying. I’ve kept watch on this island for so many years, and I haven’t seen a single living soul the whole time. I was about to go mad with boredom!”
As the woman spoke, she pouted, kicking her feet in frustration—clearly the sort of person who craved excitement and couldn’t bear solitude.
So it turned out her reason for building a boat wasn’t to reach the isolated island at all, but to sail out and search for other people. It turned out she had no idea this place was an illusion conjured by the Nanzhao musician.
Ziqing considered this—could this girl have been someone accidentally left behind, all those years ago?
They were the intruders here, so naturally they understood this world well. But it made sense that a spirit trapped within it, drawn into this world, would know nothing about it at all.
If she’d known everything, that would have been far more suspicious.
Ziqing sat down. Though she still didn’t fully trust this woman, there was still much she wanted to ask.
But just as she was about to speak, the woman beat her to it, grasping Ziqing’s hand with unexpected familiarity. “Little sister, where did you all come from? You’re not spirits—I can tell. He’s the only spirit among you!”
She was pointing, of course, at Xuanyuan Lige.
Before Ziqing could even answer, the woman pressed on urgently. “Do you know what this place actually is? Why would I end up here after I died?”
How should she answer that?
As Ziqing hesitated, Jun Beiyue spoke up. “We don’t know either. We simply woke up and found ourselves here.”
The woman looked at Jun Beiyue in surprise, clearly startled—though it was impossible to tell whether she believed him or not.
“You’re so young—how did you end up becoming a spirit?” Ziqing finally asked. She didn’t ask directly about what had happened on the isolated island all those years ago; she was still testing the waters.
But the moment she asked, the hand gripping hers suddenly tightened. The woman’s once bright, lively eyes went blank and unfocused, and her grip on Ziqing’s hand grew tighter and tighter, without any answer coming.
Jun Beiyue’s gaze fell on Ziqing’s tightly gripped hand. Xuanyuan Lige and Baili Weisheng noticed as well.
Suddenly, Jun Beiyue reached out—but almost at the exact same moment, Xuanyuan Lige and Baili Weisheng reached out too, clearly intending to pry Ziqing’s hand free.
In an instant, all three men found themselves in an awkward standoff.
Jun Beiyue and Xuanyuan Lige reacted almost simultaneously—Jun Beiyue pressed forward with his usual dominant, commanding manner, grabbing hold of Ziqing’s arm, while Xuanyuan Lige withdrew his hand, his expression calm, as if nothing had happened at all.
Only Baili Weisheng’s hand remained frozen, still hanging in midair.
He wasn’t startled by his own action—he was startled by the awkwardness of the moment itself. He absolutely hated this kind of awkwardness.
Yet he didn’t pull his hand back either. Just as Ziqing’s hand was pulled free by Jun Beiyue, he grabbed the woman’s hand instead and yanked it away!
He certainly hadn’t meant to grab Ziqing’s hand!
Having resolved the awkwardness through action, he released the woman’s hand and, like Xuanyuan Lige, kept his expression calm, as though nothing awkward had ever happened at all.
Ziqing, who had also felt the awkwardness a moment ago, couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the sight, while Jun Beiyue—being the most domineering of them all—had never once felt awkward in the first place.
The woman took it all in, and a flash of dark jealousy crossed her eyes, though she didn’t let it show. Even with her hand pulled away by Baili Weisheng, she remained despondent, head lowered, hands clenched tightly together.
Such a reaction gave Ziqing and the others a rough idea of what was going on.
Still, Baili Weisheng pressed further, testing her. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?” The woman suddenly looked up, and instead of anger, her eyes welled up with tears. Baili Weisheng’s first instinct was to back away—he’d already had his fill of crying women once before!
The woman stared at Baili Weisheng, lips pressed tightly together, her expression brimming with genuine grievance—so convincing that even Jun Beiyue, sharp as he was, found himself baffled.
If he hadn’t known Baili Weisheng for so long, he might have genuinely suspected the man had once wronged this woman terribly.
“Hey, my death has nothing to do with me, right? Why are you looking at me like that?” Baili Weisheng exclaimed. He’d never once wronged a woman in his life—he simply wasn’t that kind of man!
Only then did the woman seem to realize her own lapse. She quickly averted her eyes and explained, “Of course it has nothing to do with you. I don’t even know you. I just… I just thought of the isolated island, thought of my people… and it made me sad! They… they all died so horribly!”
“What exactly happened?” Ziqing asked urgently.
“Back then… I’m not even sure what happened exactly. The Nanzhao royal family sent a secret army that massacred everyone. Not even… not even the children were spared. I… I died in that very massacre too,” the woman explained.
Ziqing immediately sensed something was off.
Back then, the Nanzhao royal family hadn’t massacred the people of the isolated island.
So was the King of Nanzhao lying, or was this woman lying?