Bai Xingxian genuinely didn’t know, which is why he asked: “Will it be like last time…?”

Losing rationality after memory loss, becoming like a fool?

“It’s alright, Uncle.” Without waiting for Yin Changli to answer, he promised, “Little Kui and I will take care of you, just like before.”

“Save your effort. Little Kui alone is sufficient to care for me.” As Yin Changli spoke, he looked up. The celestial eye had likely been withdrawn.

Without further concern, he cupped his hands slightly toward Jing Ran. “To speak frankly, I must thank Di Jun. Previously, Han Qi created an opportunity, and Qi Yin risked his life for Little Kui, increasing the bond between master and disciple several-fold. I’ve dreamed of such an opportunity, but never imagined you would personally deliver it.”

This nearly infuriated Jing Ran to death. He raised his trembling arm, pointing at Yin Changli: “Yin Changli, quickly, kill this sovereign’s avatar and hurry to the Heavenly Realm. This sovereign truly wants to see how you can snatch Xiang Haikui from this sovereign’s hands a second time!”

He’s completely given up, Patriarch Meng thought.

But it made sense—if the avatar didn’t resist, the true body could preserve maximum strength.

Patriarch Meng also decided not to resist, to suffer less.

He glanced at Xiang Tianqing lying unconscious on the ground, his eyes filled with heartache.

…

Meanwhile, before Xiang Haikui’s wings could burst through her bones, Jing Ran either came to his senses or sensed something unusual.

His dim eyes suddenly brightened. With a “snap,” he swung the Dragon-Taming Whip.

The whip curved strangely, then extended, instantly catching the flood dragon’s right hind leg.

Holding the whip, Jing Ran descended in a straight line from mid-air, using brute force to pull the giant dragon down: “Trying to escape?!”

His move surprised Xiang Haikui.

After being restrained, his aura grew stronger.

“It seems he’s abandoned his avatar and decided to focus on you.” The phoenix’s divine ability had been severed by his overwhelming whip strike. “After assessing the situation, he’s directly decided to sacrifice twenty percent of his cultivation to avoid greater losses. Speaking of Shuluohe as a man…”

In terms of cultivation, he wasn’t the first; in intelligence, he wasn’t the first; in courage, he wasn’t the first; in cruelty, he wasn’t the first; in cunning, he wasn’t the first.

But combining all these qualities, no one else compares.

Without the phoenix’s explanation, Xiang Haikui had never underestimated him. It was like they had formed a team to fight a boss, yet whether she could escape remained uncertain.

However, after Jing Ran landed, his movements froze again, as if his attention had been divided once more.

…

“Is Di Jun giving up just like that?” Eager to destroy the avatar, Yin Changli had no intention of fulfilling his wish. “You must have also noticed that I’m severely injured, my demon core damaged, with little cultivation power left. You and Patriarch Meng together might be able to defeat me.”

Bai Xingxian held his breath, his eyes unconsciously reddening.

Patriarch Meng’s eyes brightened—the demon core was damaged?

But Jing Ran remained unmoved.

Yin Changli continued: “Is Di Jun not at all curious? If it wasn’t your people, nor Han Qi’s, who in the world could inflict such severe injuries on me?”

Jing Ran, about to withdraw his divine sense back to his main body, paused slightly.

Yin Changli wasn’t just awakening from hibernation; his cultivation had recovered at least ninety percent during this time.

“Who did it?”

Yin Changli’s cultivation wasn’t the most formidable, but his escape abilities were unmatched in the world.

In their world, could such a supreme master exist?

“It was…” Yin Changli knew that while his situation remained unclear, Xiang Haikui wouldn’t tell Jing Ran about this. “It was an old acquaintance of Di Jun.”

Jing Ran couldn’t think of anyone: “Who?”

Yin Changli suddenly smiled: “It doesn’t matter now. It has already been killed by me.”

He had no intention of telling Jing Ran.

Although learning that they had been manipulated by the Demon Spirit would shake Jing Ran’s mental state.

But he wasn’t the only one deceived—previous generations of Di Jun had been as well. If this great joke spread, it wouldn’t benefit Bai Xingxian’s future.

It also couldn’t be ruled out that Jing Ran, in a fit of rage, might unleash even stronger potential.

Saying all this was merely to delay for a moment, giving Xiang Haikui a chance to catch her breath.

…

Xiang Haikui seized this opportunity, swiftly returning to human form.

Her slender ankle, even thinner than the dragon form’s claw tip, instantly slipped through the Dragon-Taming Whip’s grip.

She leaped free of restraint, rolled on the ground, grabbed the sword case with one hand and slung it over her back, then thrust her sword toward his chest with the other!

The flood dragon coiled around the sword blade came alive, opening its bloody maw, spewing endless wild intent that transformed into a wave of energy crashing forward!

Jing Ran was momentarily slow to respond and nearly suffered injury from her sword energy.

Already locked by the sword energy and unable to flash away, he met the energy wave with a palm strike.

Dazzling golden light erupted, dispersing the energy wave, but his exposed skin was still carved with wounds of varying depths by the fragments of sword energy.

“You strike to kill right away?” Jing Ran’s eyes nearly turned red. “Xiang Haikui, do you hate me that much?”

“I’m not striking to kill, but with all my strength.” Xiang Haikui spoke honestly. “With our abilities as they are, do I have the right to show mercy?”

Xiang Haikui thrust her sword again, drawing an arc, and the sword energy no longer traveled in a straight line.

Then another strike.

In a brief instant, she delivered over a hundred sword strikes, each with a different arc.

This sword technique, taught by her master, had a rather unrefined name: Hundred Flowers Blooming.

A hundred streams of sword energy completed in an instant—seen from a distance, it was like an enormous flower perfectly blooming in the air.

Then, like a carnivorous plant, it lunged for Jing Ran’s head!

It was impossible for those among the palace guards who understood swordsmanship not to be shocked. A light sword could manage this technique without difficulty, but for a heavy sword to achieve such speed, one strike alone would burst several meridians in the arm.

Jing Ran tapped his foot and flew off the golden lotus platform: “Close!”

The golden lotus petals suddenly shrank and closed, swallowing both the sword energy and Xiang Haikui.

He knew the golden lotus was ruined, unable to withstand Tian Kuang’s fierce sword energy.

But he had no choice—he needed a moment to self-destruct his avatar.

After landing, the damage to his avatar transferred back to his true body, and blood flowed from the corner of his mouth.

“Di Jun…” Dugu Ning stepped forward.

“Stand back!” Jing Ran commanded coldly. “The palace needs none of you. Go wait for Yin Changli outside the Star-Picking Palace!”

It was impossible to expect them to deplete Yin Changli’s demon core. “At least make him lose half his power before reaching the palace.”

“Yes!”

After making these arrangements, Jing Ran looked toward the golden lotus.

Xiang Haikui had likely transformed into a flood dragon again and was using her horn to repeatedly bash against the lotus petals.

Heavy, dark clouds gathered in Jing Ran’s eyes: “Xiang Haikui, I’ll give you one last chance…”

With a “boom,” the golden lotus broke open a large hole, and the flood dragon flew out, its horn streaming with blood. “Was I not clear enough before?!”

Jing Ran pressed his lips together, tightly gripping the Dragon-Taming Whip.

The killing intent had risen within him.

“I can give up the formation plates, I can accept defeat, but today, I absolutely will not let Yin Changli take you away from me.”

He would rather kill her!

But Xiang Haikui replied: “That won’t happen. You’ll never see that scene. Because I don’t need him to come to the palace for me—I can escape on my own!”

Though speaking of escape, the flood dragon executed a beautiful tail swing, sweeping its tail toward his face.

Before it could reach him, the tail was caught by his Dragon-Taming Whip.

Perfect.

Xiang Haikui had deliberately offered her tail.

Otherwise, being caught by the foot would have been troublesome.

“Aunt Zhu, we’re taking off!”

The flood dragon flew diagonally skyward. After the Dragon-Taming Whip was pulled taut, she roared fiercely, and scales from all over her body began to spin off.

The dense, sharp scales gathered to form a giant sword.

Viewed from a distance, it resembled a huge black coin sword.

The sword energy churned the sky into turmoil. Jing Ran realized this was her final, desperate move.

If he blocked this strike, she would become weakened.

Jing Ran was about to set up a protective shield when his pupils contracted in shock, watching as the giant scale sword slashed down not at him but at the flood dragon’s tail!

Bang…!

The flood dragon severed its tail!

The severed portion of the tail was still bound by the Dragon-Taming Whip, which had been pulled taut at an angle and now recoiled toward Jing Ran by inertia.

Even his protective shield couldn’t block his whip. More terrifying still, the tail suddenly transformed into a sword, using this momentum to pierce his abdomen!

Xiang Haikui’s diagonal flight angle had initially targeted his heart.

If not for his quick reaction, she would have wounded his heart meridian once again!

Xiang Haikui wasn’t disappointed—simply hitting him was already quite good.

At least she hadn’t relied on selling her body or embracing him to achieve a double-killing strike like last time.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, she had given him a proper, honorable strike!

The sword energy ran wild inside his body. Jing Ran looked up, his eyes red: “You madwoman!”

Whoosh…!

“You can’t stop me when I come, and you can’t stop me when I leave!” Xiang Haikui had completed gathering her strength, sprouting enormous wings several times larger than her dragon body, truly soaring skyward.

This was a speed Jing Ran couldn’t match, let alone other Heavenly Race members.

She quickly flew beyond the palace, reaching the Heavenly Well.

These wings, shimmering like starlight, were her deliberate choice.

The flood dragon’s body was black, not very noticeable in the night, but now the entire capital could see these wings.

Before leaving, she turned her head and let out a roar!

The dragon’s cry rolled forth, and the sword energy that had scattered throughout the air along her path gathered like a snowball, condensing into a sword of light.

The light sword, traveling in the opposite direction from her, created fierce flames as it cut through the air, pointing toward the gate of Wentian Palace.

Despite numerous obstacles along the way, all were struck down by the sword energy, none able to block Tian Kuang’s power.

“Boom,” the light sword finally pierced the plaque above the Wentian Palace gate.

Her spirit was no less impressive than Sword Emperor Qi Yin’s in his day.

This time, Xiang Haikui hadn’t thrust her sword into Jing Ran’s heart, but had shattered his pride and face, nailing them to a pillar of shame.

“Shuluohe, from now on, our past kindness and grudges are settled. Let’s not interfere with each other. I, a stranger in this land, will no longer actively participate in the struggles between you all. And you, do not provoke me again, or bear the consequences yourself!”

…

“Di Jun…”

Dugu Ning saw him standing motionless for a long time, his ceremonial robe already stained red with blood flowing from his abdomen, and hesitantly moved to approach.

The serving maids all kept their distance, none daring to come near.

Jing Ran pulled the sword from his abdomen. The sword turned into a spray of blood, flowing through his fingers.

It was the severed tail of the flood dragon. Since the flood dragon was a transformed human, and humans have no tails, it was merely a layer of her flesh and skin.

He watched the blood flow through his fingers as his form slowly changed.

His ink-black hair gradually turned white, and his cold, hard features gradually became delicate and gentle.

This was Shuluohe’s original Heavenly Race appearance.

From now on, Jing Ran would no more in the world.

Xiang Haikui fell from the Heavenly Well, as if falling into a bottomless pit.

After falling for an unknown time, she suddenly heard a voice: “Little Kui?”

Xiang Haikui was startled: “Where are you?”

In the darkness, her hand was grasped.

She reached out to feel, and indeed, someone was beside her.

“Without waiting for me to come for you, you escaped on your own.” Yin Changli could hardly believe it. “How did you escape? Your body…”

“I’m fine. Senior Phoenix’s wings were impressive.” Xiang Haikui gripped his hand tightly.

“It’s over now.” Yin Changli comforted her.

Fortunately, he was only in demon core form, or she might have broken his bones with her grip.

Xiang Haikui remained silent for a long time.

In the darkness of the Heavenly Well, Yin Changli couldn’t see her expression: “Little Kui?”

Xiang Haikui spoke irritably: “I heard you. If you have something to say, say it quickly. Don’t be like last time when your mouth was suddenly sewn shut and you could only write on my palm. It’s pitch black here, I can’t see anything.”

“You’re angry?” Yin Changli was slightly bewildered. “Angry that I gave you a fake incantation, or that I came late?”

“I…” Xiang Haikui was momentarily at a loss for words.

She knew he couldn’t hold on much longer.

After the phoenix had lent her divine ability, that strand of divine sense had dissipated.

But even without the phoenix telling her, she understood how dire his condition was.

Though having her tail cut off hadn’t cost her any bones, a horrifying wound now stretched from her left rear shoulder to her right buttock, deep enough to expose bone.

She had sealed it to stop the bleeding.

Yet he couldn’t sense her physical state, couldn’t even smell the blood.

She felt somewhat distressed. Although the phoenix had said his demon core was already beyond saving, which is why he had used it.

But she knew that for someone usually so cautious to end up in such a state was not unrelated to her.

However, that wasn’t the main point.

She just felt upset.

Her heart felt heavy, more painful than the wound on her back.

Yet she couldn’t express it properly.

“Is Senior Blood alright?” Xiang Haikui controlled her emotions to ask.

“Dao unity is promising.” Yin Changli chose to share the good news.

Hearing this, Xiang Haikui was much relieved.

They were together. With him losing his demon core and all his power, Blood Rakshasa would be essential.

“When will you come out?”

Xiang Haikui didn’t ask what had happened in the Nightmare Prison, so Yin Changli didn’t explain: “It depends on Blood Rakshasa. The day he achieves Dao unity will be when we both emerge.”

There were indeed some matters to instruct her on. “Little Kui, keep these formation plates safe. Before I come out, don’t give them to anyone.”

Xiang Haikui nodded: “I understand.”

Before he returned, she couldn’t release the Mountain Sea lords—they would be unmanageable.

“No.” Yin Changli changed his mind. “Release Qi Yin first.”

Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel at ease about her safety.

“My master…”

“I can’t identify which formation plate is his right now. Have Little Bai take you to the Ten Thousand Bones Cavern, and let Qi Yin identify it himself. After he emerges, he’ll need to heal—he won’t recover even half his former state for twenty or thirty years. You just need to stay by his side. With you as a burden, he won’t act too rashly or recklessly.”

“Alright.” Though it seemed difficult, Xiang Haikui also wanted her master to see the light of day soon. “What else?”

“Nothing else.”

Xiang Haikui was surprised: “That’s it?”

Last time, he had given her detailed instructions with long explanations.

“Times have changed.” Yin Changli smiled slightly. “Even without my arrangements, you know my thoughts and understand what to do.”

Xiang Haikui: …

That was true.

“Please, give me a few more instructions.” Xiang Haikui shook his arm. “I’m too lazy to think. Thinking is exhausting. I give up struggling. Rather than being the boss who makes decisions, I prefer to be the worker.”

Yin Changli laughed heartily: “But I have nothing more to instruct you on. However, I do have a piece of news to share.”

“Oh?”

“In your homeland, there are many cultivators. Their level of civilization far exceeds our little world.”

Xiang Haikui was shocked: “Really?”

“It should be true.” Yin Changli didn’t mention that they might come for her.

This was only the Demon Spirit’s conjecture.

If they didn’t come, it would only disappoint her.

Telling her in advance was in case they did come, to prevent her from growing suspicious and thinking Di Jun was behind it.

Thinking that she might leave, Yin Changli tightened his grip on her hand: “Little Kui, I suddenly remembered, there is indeed one more thing I need to tell you.”

Xiang Haikui quickly said, “Go ahead.”

“Before Blood Rakshasa achieves Dao unity, we will wander in the dream realm. Without my power, I could easily become lost…”

“What do you mean?” This was beyond her understanding, and Xiang Haikui couldn’t comprehend.

“It’s difficult to explain in one sentence. It’s like drifting on the ocean, needing a…”

“Lighthouse?”

“Yes. If someone frequently dreams of me, it would serve as a guide.” Yin Changli was lying.

He found this lie difficult to tell, feeling quite embarrassed.

Fortunately, she couldn’t see him in the darkness.

“Fine.” Xiang Haikui didn’t suspect anything, thinking that one dreams at night about what one thinks during the day. She would recite his name ten thousand times before sleeping, and surely dream of him.

After a moment of surprise, Yin Changli pressed further: “Then before I return, you mustn’t think of anyone else besides me.”

Xiang Haikui finally caught his meaning.

Receiving no response, Yin Changli was secretly disappointed and was about to say he was just joking.

But she agreed: “Alright, I’ll wait for you to return.”

Yin Changli squeezed her fingers and immediately looked toward her.

He regretted only that in the darkness, he could barely see her outline, unable to discern her expression.

“Wait, no matter how long?”

“Yes.”

“I will return. Even if I die, I’ll find you in my next life.”

Xiang Haikui remained silent. Only when he was about to vanish did she pull his hand close and write characters on his palm with her finger.

Last time, before he disappeared into hibernation, he had written two final characters on her palm: “Wait for me.”

This time, she also wrote two characters on his palm: “Waiting for you.”

After his demon core’s power was exhausted, Yin Changli awoke in the Nightmare Prison.

More precisely, the Nightmare Prison had collapsed, and he was now in the dream void.

However, before the collapse, he had brought out the small black ball palace.

The small black ball had completely closed to form a sealed cabin, able to resist the corrosion of the void dark matter.

Blood Rakshasa stood in the great hall holding his sword, staring at Yin Changli, who sat behind the table.

Knowing he was conscious but still motionless like a wooden man.

Then, languidly leaning forward, he rested his elbow on the table, looking at his palm, slowly curling his lips.

Blood Rakshasa said irritably: “It seems your trip outside was quite fruitful, leaving all the mess for me.”

Yin Changli remained silent, withdrawing his hand and weakly lying on the table.

Having lost his demon core, unable to withstand his injuries, he could no longer maintain human form. Slowly reverting to his demon form, he curled into a ball, his body beginning to ice over—his way of self-preservation.

“Don’t do that yet.” Blood Rakshasa rushed forward. “At least tell me which direction I should strive toward!”

He remained obsessed with the questions about the world, unable to comprehend them. How could he achieve Dao unity?

The small black snake lifted its head slightly: “Whether the world is true or false, virtual or real, what impact does it have on you?”

“Have you climbed to the pinnacle of the world?”

“Those standing at the peak don’t worry about the sky falling. What are you worried about?”

Three consecutive questions left Blood Rakshasa speechless.

He squatted down, holding his sword, looking level at the snake’s eyes: “It’s not a worry. I’m cultivating the Dream Sword, so I’m curious.”

The small black snake flicked its tongue: “You’re not curious—you’re just idle with nothing better to do.”

Blood Rakshasa: … “But Dao unity is difficult. Doesn’t everyone need to experience some enlightenment, profound awakening, before they can part the clouds and see clear skies…”

Before he could finish, he was interrupted: “Who told you that?”

Blood Rakshasa: “Everyone says so.”

“Everyone? At least Han Qi and I never said that. I slept, woke up from hibernation, and successfully achieved Dao unity. Han Qi played a zither, and at the peak of his excitement, he also achieved Dao unity.”

Blood Rakshasa: …

“So the first secret to Dao unity is: don’t listen to hearsay or follow the crowd like a fool.”

The small black snake gradually became encased in ice, its voice growing fainter.

“Master, everything has settled,” Star Nǚ said, unable to hide the joy in her voice.

As expected, Han Qi sat down again, looking at the cloud layer blocking the moonlight above: “It’s just beginning.”

A new beginning.

“That’s fine too. Let’s transition gradually in a more peaceful way.” Han Qi plucked a zither string.

“Master, does this mean you’ve admitted defeat?” Star Nǚ asked boldly.

Han Qi remained silent: “Any peace is temporary, just a matter of time. Losing to Brother Changli is nothing, as long as my human race can steadily benefit from the path we’ve chosen.”

He admired the realm of understanding that Shuluoye and Yin Changli had reached, but he didn’t possess such a realm.

Nor did he covet it.

Everyone has their aspirations. Even if it stemmed from competitiveness and desire, he still wanted the human race to become the dominant power.

He had switched sides again, simply choosing an easier and more advantageous path.

He believed Yin Changli would understand.

It took the Mountain Sea Tribe many years to produce one “Yin Changli,” while “Han Qi” types emerged endlessly from the human race.

The Heavenly Race and Mountain Sea Tribe were merely passing guests—the human race would ultimately stand at the pinnacle.

“In the long run, I will be the winner.”

To reach the Ten Thousand Bones Cavern, Xiang Haikui needed Bai Xingxian to guide her.

Since Bai Xingxian and Lu Xiqiao were now in Jin Ling, she flew toward Jin Ling.

When she arrived at the courtyard entrance, she saw Bai Xingxian and Lu Xiqiao coming toward her. After tossing the sword case to them, she fainted.

When she woke up, she was lying face down on a bed. Her clothes had been changed, and the wound on her back had been treated.

Surprisingly, the person staying with her in the room was Xiang Tianqing.

Xiang Tianqing looked extremely poor. The mermaid needle had caused her significant harm. Seeing that Xiang Haikui was awake, she said: “Father’s divine spirit was injured by that arrow, and he had to go into seclusion first.”

“Thank you.” Xiang Haikui knew she had helped change her clothes.

“Don’t worry, your two friends are sitting at the door like watchdogs, staring at me without blinking.” Without privacy, Xiang Tianqing raised her voice to ensure the two outside could hear: “I stayed not to look after you, but to wait for you to give me an explanation.”

“I already said thank you.” Xiang Haikui had originally wanted to turn to one side and shift her body, but the pain made her grimace. “Thank you for not harming Father.”

“It’s not about that.” Xiang Tianqing stood up and came to the bedside. “Apologize to me.”

“Fine, I’m sorry. I implicated you this time.”

Xiang Tianqing: “Stop deflecting!”

Xiang Haikui was bewildered: “What?”

Xiang Tianqing spoke coldly: “Regarding your claim that you saw me killing Father in the destiny line—don’t you need to apologize for that?”

“I only said what I saw with my own eyes,” Xiang Haikui explained.

“But now you’ve seen clearly that I absolutely wouldn’t. I would rather die than harm Father!” Xiang Tianqing took an “irrefutable evidence” stance.

Xiang Haikui ignored her. She hadn’t made anything up, just told the truth.

Why should she apologize? She wouldn’t.

Xiang Tianqing said, “It doesn’t matter whether you apologize or not. Anyway, those words have already been shaken in Father’s heart. My wrongful accusation has been cleared, and you’ve failed.”

Outside the door, Lu Xiqiao stood up with his hands on his hips, seemingly about to interject.

Bai Xingxian tugged at him, pulling him back down to sit.

Xiang Haikui lay still, not moving.

Xiang Tianqing, believing she had finally avenged her humiliation, prepared to leave: “Of course, I should also apologize to you about my family from the Upper Realm. I’m sorry… but I’ve already lost one brother.”

“Xiang Haikui, let’s call it even. I’ve betrayed the Heavenly Race and can’t go back now. I’ll have to stay by Father’s side and continue to be your sister. To avoid putting Father in a difficult position, I’ll strive to coexist peacefully with you, but I deeply dislike you in my heart, and that won’t change.”

“I dislike you, too.” Xiang Haikui turned her face to look at her, giving her a knowing glance.

However, she could now rest assured, leaving her by Father’s side. “I’ll be leaving soon, and probably won’t appear again for a long time.”

Xiang Tianqing was slightly surprised.

“Don’t misunderstand, I’m not avoiding you.”

Xiang Haikui needed to watch over Qi Yin and wait for Yin Changli’s return.

“Won’t you wait until Father comes out of seclusion? It should only take two or three days.”

“Do you want Father to see me covered in wounds like this?”

Xiang Tianqing fell silent.

After resting for a day, Xiang Haikui and her two companions left the courtyard early the next morning.

Xiang Tianqing escorted them all the way out of the city: “Don’t misunderstand, in others’ eyes we’re sisters, and inappropriate behavior would bring gossip about Father.”

“Take good care of Father.”

“When have I ever taken poor care of him?”

Xiang Haikui realized she was right.

Jing Ran’s words made sense—Father would treat Xiang Tianqing better than his daughter, but that was something Xiang Tianqing had earned through her efforts.

…

Without the small black ball, but still having Han Qi’s black and white chess pieces that hadn’t been returned, the three quickly reached the Ten Thousand Bones Cavern.

Passing over the Hyena Valley, Xiang Haikui looked down and felt as if a lifetime had passed.

When Qi Yin walked out of the Ten Thousand Bones Cavern, he too felt as if a lifetime had passed, standing outside the cave motionless for a while.

Xiang Haikui took his arm: “What’s wrong, too attached to leave after staying so long?”

Qi Yin rubbed her bun-shaped hair: “Master just feels it’s not quite real.”

How many years had he been imprisoned? Spring came and autumn went, plants flourished and withered, but the sky above his head was always the same.

Until a dozen years ago, when Yin Changli brought a small human girl.

That little girl’s knees were soft—she knelt immediately, saying she didn’t want to die and begging him to save her.

But those bright eyes clearly showed not the slightest fear of death.

As Qi Yin was lost in thought, his arm suddenly hurt.

Looking down, he saw Xiang Haikui had bitten him: “What are you doing?”

He had said he didn’t feel real, and Xiang Haikui wanted to pinch him to ask if it hurt.

But her master’s muscles were like stone, and she couldn’t pinch them, so she bit him instead.

Immediately, she regretted it and began to retch: “Master, how many years has it been since you bathed? You smell terrible!”

Qi Yin laughed heartily.

…

Afterward, Xiang Haikui followed Qi Yin to find the Mountain Sea Tribe’s current headquarters and settled there.

After her wounds had healed, Bai Xingxian took Lu Xiqiao away to handle matters—they needed to return the treasures Xiang Haikui had reclaimed to various tribes.

Xiang Haikui kept close watch on Qi Yin, fearing he might run off to fight others.

When he was in seclusion, Xiang Haikui spent most of her time sleeping, and before sleeping, she would continuously count in her mind.

One little black snake swam by, two little black snakes swam by, three little black snakes swam by…

Although she felt that the “summoning souls through sleep method” was probably a trick the boss played on her, she still followed it.

What if it were real?

She wasn’t willing to take any risks.

…

Seven years passed this way.

“Seven years, and still no news of Uncle.” Each year on Xiang Haikui’s birthday, no matter how busy Bai Xingxian and Lu Xiqiao were, they would return.

“Just keep waiting.” Xiang Haikui had developed patience through waiting.

Lu Xiqiao returned from outside the mountain: “Sister Kui, someone’s looking for you at the mountain gate. They’ve been stopped.”

Xiang Haikui was startled: “Looking for me?”

“Says they’re from your hometown.” Lu Xiqiao gestured to describe the person’s appearance.

“My hometown?” Xiang Haikui was even more surprised.

She immediately jumped down from the large rock where she had been resting and walked toward the mountain gate.

Lu Xiqiao asked: “Brother Bai, aren’t you going to secretly watch?”

Bai Xingxian was puzzled: “Why should I watch secretly?”

Lu Xiqiao gave him a meaningful look: “An exceptionally handsome man who says he’s been looking for Sister Kui for a long time. Could be another old lover.”

With Uncle not around, that would be disastrous.

Bai Xingxian: “Let’s go!”

…

Xiang Haikui hurried to the mountain gate and saw a purple-robed man standing in the center of the formation.

His cultivation level was similar to hers, but his bearing was extraordinary.

He held a zither in his arms and spoke coldly to the elder, activating the formation: “I’ve already said my identity is not convenient to disclose, and I haven’t set foot in your territory. Why be so aggressive?”

Xiang Haikui searched her consciousness sea, confirming she didn’t know him: “Sir, you are…?”

The purple-robed man looked toward the sound: “Xiang Haikui, Miss Xiang?”

Xiang Haikui nodded: “That’s me.”

The purple-robed man put away his zither, slightly cupped his hands toward her, and transmitted: “Director of the Chinese Special Affairs Processing Department, Qu Song.”

Xiang Haikui was stunned.

Qu Song spoke calmly: “This is a modern name. Before the founding of the country, our organization was called the Chinese Cultivators Alliance.”

Xiang Haikui was dumbfounded for a while, almost thinking he was one of Jing Ran’s people.

Then she suddenly remembered that the boss had previously mentioned there were cultivators on Earth as well. She frowned, looking at him cautiously.

Qu Song understood and tossed her a storage ring.

Xiang Haikui caught it and scanned it with her divine sense. Inside were all her records, including her witness statement from the police station years ago.

This…!

Xiang Haikui first believed, then found it hard to believe: “You’ve been looking for me all this time?”

“That’s right. When Miss Xiang was taken away by Yin Changli at the police station, you vanished into thin air, causing quite a stir. The police station forwarded the matter to our department, and we began investigating.”

Qu Song bowed again. “I apologize, but it took us some time to investigate and pinpoint your location. Later, we discovered this world is closed, with a time difference from Earth, and opening a new channel consumed more time. For us, it’s been less than a year, but it’s made you a wanderer for nearly eighteen years.”

Xiang Haikui held the ring filled with her records, her eyes suddenly stinging with emotion.

Qu Song noticed her expression: “We’ve investigated the three people involved this time. I’ve already found Miss Xiang’s father, but he’s unwilling to return. As for Jing Ran, let’s not speak of him. Does Miss Xiang wish to stay here or return to Earth?”

“Of course, I want to return.” Xiang Haikui didn’t hesitate, then frowned. “But I can’t leave yet…”

Qu Song handed her a jade tablet: “Miss Xiang is waiting for Yin Changli, right? No matter. When you wish to return, just crush this formation tablet. Within a quarter hour, we on the other side will activate the formation to bring you back.”

Xiang Haikui took the jade tablet, truly surprised this time: “What exactly do you all do? How do you know everything?”

Qu Song’s expression was inscrutable: “Special department, special operations—I can’t disclose more.”

Xiang Haikui’s curiosity was piqued: “So mysterious?”

“If Miss Xiang is interested, why not join us?” Investigating cases didn’t require Director Qu Song’s involvement, but to secure talent ahead of others, he had to come himself. “After returning, Miss Xiang will surely be recruited by various forces and will find it tiresome.”

So that’s what he was after: “Is there money in it?”

Qu Song: “There is, but not as generous as other forces. After all, our organization…”

Xiang Haikui: “I’ll join.”

Qu Song was taken aback: “Won’t you consider further? Or compare after you return? After all, you don’t yet understand…”

Xiang Haikui waved her hand: “Those are all private sects. Following you, at least I’d be a civil servant, right?”

No consideration needed.

Just for the fact that without knowing her situation, they had cut through thorns and brambles to cross worlds to find her—was there even a choice?

…

After sending off Qu Song, two more years passed.

Xiang Haikui awoke with a start from her sleep, not even taking time to put on her shoes before running out.

She saw Blood Rakshasa wearing a red robe, sitting cross-legged on a rooftop under the blazing sun.

He often entered dreams, avoiding light, and his skin was an unhealthy white, somewhat like a ghost. Xiang Haikui truly feared he might evaporate under the sun.

Indeed, someone had just knocked on her door, saying the “mystic charlatan” had returned.

She had been deep in sleep and hadn’t reacted.

“Senior Blood?!” Though they could hardly be called close, Xiang Haikui now felt like she was seeing a relative. “You’ve achieved Dao unity?!”

Blood Rakshasa raised an eyebrow: “How else could I come out?”

“Congratulations, Senior!” Xiang Haikui cupped her fists, smiling from ear to ear.

“I think I should be congratulating you.” Blood Rakshasa pointed at the stone house beneath him, indicating Yin Changli was inside. “I called you, but you didn’t come. He’s asleep.”

Blood Rakshasa jumped down from the roof, stretched lazily, exhaustion evident in his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve returned him to you. My task is complete. Farewell.”

Xiang Haikui didn’t try to keep him, but again cupped her fists: “Great kindness needs no thanks. If there’s anything this junior can do for you in the future, just ask.”

“Bringing him back to you—what kindness is that?” Blood Rakshasa clicked his tongue.

As he passed her, his steps faltered. He backed up a few steps, arching his back to say, “Sister, if your heart has no one else, you might as well accept him.”

Even saying this embarrassed him. Previously, he had shouted about fighting and killing, determined to be a stumbling block on Yin Changli’s pursuit of a wife, yet in the blink of an eye, he had become a matchmaker. “I’m not speaking for him, but as an acquaintance and half a fellow disciple, I say this for your sake.”

He pressed on her shoulder, “Not a loss.”

Leaving these two words, he walked away.

“Not a loss…” Xiang Haikui pondered these words.

Pushing open the door, Xiang Haikui placed the sword case upright by the door and tiptoed to the bedside.

Yin Changli lay on his side. Apart from his pale complexion, everything else looked fine.

Xiang Haikui pulled a low stool to sit by the bed, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him, noting his good color.

Perhaps sleepiness was contagious. Having just been startled awake, now looking at his sleeping face, she actually felt drowsy too, so she rested her eyes by laying her head on the edge of the bed.

She fell asleep.

Vaguely sensing a dangerous aura, she jolted awake.

Then her hand was grasped by another.

This hand was cold, almost without temperature, instantly freezing the rising fear within her.

As her fear receded, her tense nerves relaxed.

Her whole being felt as if immersed in a hot spring, indescribably comfortable.

She wanted to open her eyes to check his condition, but an even heavier drowsiness fiercely overwhelmed her.

Finally deciding to follow the feeling, she allowed herself to be submerged by sleepiness, preparing to sleep a while longer.

Sensing her calm, that cold hand slowly tried to let go, but she hooked his little finger.

The hand stiffened briefly, then gently returned, the palm covering her hand again, as if holding a treasure.

When Xiang Haikui woke up, she was lying on the bed.

Turning her head, she saw Yin Changli sleeping beside her, facing her on his side.

Their hands were still linked. She had taken the pillow, and he was using his other arm as a pillow, his pitch-black hair covering half the bed.

Xiang Haikui’s gaze moved from his thick eyelashes, gradually to his high, straight nose bridge, then settled on his lips.

His lips were pale, with some small cracks, but this didn’t detract from their sensual shape.

The boss’s appearance had always been her ideal type.

Come to think of it, this was the first time Xiang Haikui had examined him so closely.

During their previous dual cultivation, she had been unwilling to accept his kisses, disappointing him greatly. Now she wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by such beautiful, soft lips.

The more she stared, the more entranced she became, feeling an urge to move her lips closer to try.

This was going too far. She quickly averted her gaze to the ceiling beams.

Had she been influenced by the demon blood?

“Why did you stop?” Yin Changli suddenly spoke, still with eyes closed, just curving his lips into a beautiful arc. “Are you afraid?”

Xiang Haikui was startled: “Oh, you’re awake.”

Yin Changli opened his eyes, looking at her with an ambiguous smile: “Don’t change the subject. I felt it—you wanted to secretly kiss me.”

Caught in the act, Xiang Haikui was mortified, but she retorted: “Why would I need to be secretive about kissing you? I was just worried that after sleeping so long, your mouth might smell.”

“So you wanted to secretly kiss my lips?” Yin Changli touched his lips, appearing somewhat surprised. “I thought at most you might kiss my cheek as a reward.”

“Reward? What have you done that I need to reward you for?” Xiang Haikui turned on her side to face him, also using her arm as a pillow. “If anyone deserves a reward, it’s me rewarding you, right? I helped you reclaim the formation plates and severely damaged Di Jun’s prestige. How much trouble did I save you? How greatly did I help you?”

“You’re right.” Yin Changli drew his long eyebrows together, seriously reflecting, his dark eyes revealing a hint of mischief. “So if you kiss me, is it to claim a reward?”

Xiang Haikui’s face turned blue with frustration: “I was just…”

He pulled her shoulder, leaning forward to boldly plant a kiss on her forehead.

It was abrupt, but he had wanted to do it for a long time.

Especially sensing her taking the initiative, regardless of her mindset, he had to press his advantage.

Opportunities couldn’t be missed—he didn’t have many demon cores left to wager.

When his soft lips pressed against her, Xiang Haikui felt electrified, and the rest of her words were blocked.

After the kiss, Yin Changli cupped her face in both hands, looking at her carefully.

Xiang Haikui felt awkward, the fine down on her face standing on end.

His eyes seemed like needles, and she felt like an inflated balloon about to be pierced by him.

“What are you looking at?” She pushed his shoulder and lifted the quilt to sit up.

Though she hadn’t used much force, he groaned in pain.

Xiang Haikui thought he was pretending and paid no attention.

Turning around at the bedside after putting on her shoes, she saw that his forehead was covered with large beads of sweat. Her heart jolted with alarm: “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” His voice was restrained.

How could he be fine? Xiang Haikui silently cursed her recklessness.

She didn’t know how serious his other injuries were, but without his demon core, his cultivation was minimal, similar to when he had lost his memory, frail, and with her hand accustomed to wielding heavy swords…

Xiang Haikui said seriously: “It’s okay, you can cultivate again. I will protect you well.”

Yin Changli pulled up the warm cotton quilt, both hands clutching the corners, only his eyes visible: “Really?”

Xiang Haikui was resolute: “I swear!”

Only after speaking did she realize something was off. His posture made her look like some lustful man randomly swearing oaths to coax a woman into bed?

Sure enough, she heard Yin Changli’s laughter muffled under the quilt.

She was utterly speechless. This dog of a man!

Raising her knee to step on the edge of the bed, she leaned down, her nose touching his through the quilt, fixing her gaze on him.

Yin Changli had only wanted to ease her tension with a joke, but unexpectedly, she had suddenly gone on the offensive, her domineering aura driving away all the surrounding air.

Momentarily unable to breathe properly, he nearly coughed.

“I’m serious.” Xiang Haikui’s gaze was resolute. “No matter how long and difficult this path of recultivation is, I will protect and care for you with all my strength, just as I did during those ten years when you lost your memory, until you no longer need me.”

At that moment, the sun, moon, and stars seemed to be in her eyes. Yin Changli was entranced for a moment before smiling: “When you were sound asleep, I had an evil thought stirring in my mind.”

Xiang Haikui raised an eyebrow: “Good thing you restrained yourself.”

“What are you thinking?” Yin Changli teased with a smile.

He did want to, but he couldn’t. After becoming weak, his waist injury had recurred.

The pain that made him sweat earlier was due to his waist.

He would rather die of pain than tell Xiang Haikui that his waist problem was severe.

As for that evil thought, he had wanted to pretend to have lost his memory.

No, he wanted to return to his previous amnesiac state, pretending to forget his current self.

With his power gone, such a disguise would be perfectly natural.

Xiang Haikui was puzzled: “Why?”

Yin Changli smiled slightly bitterly: “Because I wanted to know, between me and ‘me,’ which one you care about more? Would you miss me more when I’m beside you?”

It was like a tongue twister, giving Xiang Haikui a massive headache.

“You are you—the good and the bad are all you, together making the complete you.” She withdrew her foot from the edge of the bed, standing straight beside it. “So why did you give up?”

Yin Changli pressed his lips into a smile without answering.

Though he didn’t speak, Xiang Haikui understood—he didn’t want to worry her.

“Little Kui, you don’t need to take responsibility upon yourself. My condition isn’t as bad as you think, and I don’t need your pity.”

Yin Changli wanted her by his side, but didn’t want to bind her there. “I don’t need to cultivate again. After having my power drained, I only need to rest for a few decades to recover to my peak state. This is the innate talent of our male Torch Dragons.”

Xiang Haikui was about to say he was boasting when she suddenly remembered the special reproduction method of Torch Dragons and was stunned.

When male Torch Dragons nurture offspring, they are indeed drained by the females. After the child leaves the mother’s body, they gradually recover.

She was puzzled: “But you lost your demon core—does that still work?”

If it could, wouldn’t her master have mentioned it when comforting her earlier?

Yin Changli said, “None of my ancestors have ever lost a demon core, but my instinct tells me it shouldn’t be a major problem.”

Xiang Haikui was skeptical: “You’re not just trying to comfort me, are you?”

Yin Changli sighed: “Could I drive you away before I recover? Comforting you now would only lead to greater disappointment later. What would be the point?”

Yes, that made sense. Xiang Haikui’s heart leaped with joy as she let out a heavy sigh of relief: “That’s wonderful!”

Seeing her beaming with joy, Yin Changli’s lips curled with satisfaction.

It felt like clouds parting to reveal the moon. Xiang Haikui grinned as she tucked the pillow under his head: “Alright, go back to sleep then. I won’t disturb you. When you’ve rested enough, we can discuss other matters.”

She had come to care for a patient, but ended up stealing the patient’s bed and pillow for a nap, which was quite embarrassing.

Just as she turned, he grabbed her sleeve: “Don’t go yet, stay with me a while longer. I only need to lie down, I don’t need sleep. That’s why I need periodic hibernation.”

Xiang Haikui turned her head. Knowing he didn’t need to cultivate again, her mood improved, and her attitude became more brash: “Yeah, right! When you lost your memory, you slept every day, needed a bath before bed to help you sleep, and even talked in your sleep.”

“You forget, I was already in a hibernation period then.” He smiled. “But did I talk in my sleep?”

Xiang Haikui nodded: “Yes.”

He was quite curious: “What did I say?”

“What else would someone with a love-addled brain say? Of course, it was ‘Little Kui is the most beautiful girl in the world,’ ‘I just love Little Kui to death.'” Xiang Haikui was making it up. The puppy-like boss had merely mumbled in his sleep, most likely dreaming of some painful past events, often breaking out in a cold sweat.

Yin Changli’s eyes curved in a smile: “That’s not sleep-talking—that’s the truth.”

Xiang Haikui spat out a “puh” at him: “Do you think you’re good at flirting, brother? In my hometown, this is called ‘corny sweet talk.’ Do you understand what ‘corny’ means?”

Despite her mockery, Yin Changli smiled even more happily.

His hand moved down from her sleeve to catch her hand, pulling her to sit on the bed.

Such a weakling—Xiang Haikui could have evaded him with ease, but indulged him for fear of hurting him.

Yin Changli stroked her back: “Still hurts?”

“That was ages ago,” Xiang Haikui told him to be quiet.

Yin Changli changed the subject: “Then why don’t you ask me about what happened in the Nightmare Prison?”

Xiang Haikui’s muscles tensed: “I asked Blood Rakshasa already.”

“The companion spirit and the Tianwu Divine Arrow—you know about them too?” Though Yin Changli hadn’t explained directly, he knew Blood Rakshasa was a clever person who wouldn’t reveal things that weren’t his to tell.

Xiang Haikui shook her head: “Whether you should tell me or not, you know best. I trust that your choice is what’s best for me.”

She sat up again, wanting to leave, her desire to escape quite obvious.

“Mmm, you can ask me when you want to know. It’s not too late.” Yin Changli released her, his fingers reaching toward her temple to brush aside strands of hair that had been mussed while sleeping.

Xiang Haikui lowered her eyebrows, showing rare gentleness.

After getting off the bed, she picked up the sword case and walked to the door, hesitating for a long while: “The companion spirit…”

Yin Changli interrupted: “Since you don’t want to know now, don’t ask.”

Xiang Haikui: “But I’m avoiding it. You’re letting me indulge in such weak behavior?”

“If avoiding makes you happy, then avoiding is the right choice.” Yin Changli grew tired of lying down and also rose from the bed, but his feet had barely touched the ground when he stumbled.

Xiang Haikui instinctively wanted to go help him, but restrained herself: “That sounds nice, but before, when I was angry with my father because of Xiang Tianqing and didn’t want to go home, didn’t you force me to face it actively?”

“No, these two situations are different and can’t be conflated, Little Kui.”

“How are they different?”

“Some things no one can help with, and eventually you must face them. You can’t avoid them or be weak, or there will be endless trouble.” Yin Changli, barefoot, walked to the window with his back to Xiang Haikui. “But this matter is different. I’ve completely resolved it. You never need to face it again. You can avoid it, and it doesn’t matter.”

Xiang Haikui’s eyes flickered slightly as she watched Yin Changli walk to the window and push it open. The mountain moon poured down silver light.

He wore only a thin inner robe. As he rested his hand on the window frame, the mountain breeze gently lifted his long hair.

Two phrases popped into her mind: “cold moon like frost” and “beauty leaning by the window.”

In Xiang Haikui’s memory, Yin Changli usually had this sickly, willow-in-the-wind appearance.

After all, from the day she met him, he was already approaching his hibernation period and was very weak.

But now that he had emerged from hibernation, no matter how noble and aloof he pretended to be, it was useless. Xiang Haikui had seen through to his true nature.

The word “masculine” had nothing to do with him.

Yet this man, whose special talent was crying in an instant, always used the gentlest voice to speak the most powerful words.

At least for Xiang Haikui, they resonated powerfully.

They made her realize that grandeur and strength had nothing to do with appearance.

She stood silently by the door latch for a moment, then returned, placing the sword case on the table: “Tell me then. I want to know.”

Yin Changli frowned: “Are you sure?”

“The companion spirit had the Tianwu Divine Arrow. According to your previous guess, it was my mother, right?” Xiang Haikui pulled out a chair and sat down, pouring herself a cup of cold tea and gulping it down. “How ironic. I even lectured you before not to be so dark.”

Yin Changli was silent for a moment: “That depends on how you understand the word ‘mother’—is it ‘birthing’ or ‘nurturing’…”

He had little strength and spoke slowly, taking considerable effort.

Xiang Haikui crossed her arms, her eyes fixed on the sword case in front of her, tracing over the carved patterns again and again with her gaze.

“Good, it’s dead. Another score settled.”

“Little Kui…”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I don’t remember much from before I was four or five. I don’t have much feeling for my mother, so it can’t hurt me.”

Xiang Haikui’s expression remained normal as she lifted the case and stood.

The more calm she appeared, the more Yin Changli hurt for her, but he didn’t stop her.

After leaving, she would probably hide away to cry or go cry in Qi Yin’s arms, which was better than forcing herself to hold back in front of him.

But Xiang Haikui stood in place for a while, then, unable to bear it any longer, slammed the sword case down on the table!

Without restraining her strength, the table couldn’t withstand it and immediately shattered into pieces!

Amidst the scattered debris, her eyes held flames ready to ignite—the demon blood burning: “Tell me, what the hell is this thing called love!”

Yin Changli knew the reason for her agitation and remained silent.

“When his wife was seven months pregnant, she was replaced by someone else, and my father didn’t even notice? He just continued living as before?”

Yin Changli tried to calm her: “Little Kui…”

She couldn’t listen at all, her emotions fluctuating more violently: “Was it because he was an orphan, so he married just to huddle together for warmth? Then what does my existence count as—a joke?!”

“This is a questionable point, Little Kui.” Seeing her like this, Yin Changli, who hadn’t intended to say more, explained, “It might have lied.”

It might have chosen a body to approach Xiang Heng—that could be the truth.

Xiang Haikui was stunned.

Yin Changli sighed lightly: “The purpose of the lie, as it may have been considered, was that if it lost and you learned of this, it would be easier for you to accept.”

This was the only mercy it could offer her.

It was precisely this suspicion that prevented him from scattering his spirit body himself, instead letting it collapse along with the dream realm.

“Of course, this is only my conjecture. As things stand, there’s no way to investigate further.”

Xiang Haikui’s face was like water: “How could that be? It was prepared to kill my father and me without much hesitation…”

“Living for a long time, any ‘unforgettable’ event becomes a drop in the ocean, not worth mentioning.” The mountain wind was too strong, so Yin Changli closed half the window and drew his clothes tighter. “Don’t say you don’t understand—even with my experience, I can’t comprehend their state of mind. You only need to know that it wasn’t entirely without feeling for you and your father.”

Xiang Haikui was thoughtful: “I was like a little kitten it raised. Throughout its long life, it raised countless animals, and after comparing, it found kittens the most adorable, so it gave me a bit more compassion. Is that the kind of feeling?”

Yin Changli: …

One could understand it that way.

But he couldn’t say it aloud.

Xiang Haikui was irritated: “Fine, you don’t need to explain anymore.”

It was all in the past. Discussing how much compassion it had for her was meaningless.

“To it, I was so insignificant, being ignored was only natural. As for Jing Ran, his feelings for me were much deeper, but compared to his royal power, I was just a tool. And as for my father, if he had to choose between me and Xiang Tianqing in a critical moment…”

Even Yin Changli was the same.

Between his great enterprise and hers, which was more important?

She wouldn’t think about such a stupid question, like “if your mother and I fell into water, who would you save first?”

To live happily, one must learn “not to compare,” then there won’t be many “regrets.”

“I’m being oversensitive.” She said softly, “But never being someone’s definite choice, always becoming the one who’s abandoned—it hurts.”

Her dejection pained Yin Changli, but her willingness to be honest about her feelings in front of him delighted him.

He changed the subject: “Little Kui, do you remember that child between us… the one that might not have formed successfully?”

Xiang Haikui’s brows furrowed. This had always been a tacit taboo between them.

His gaze lowered to her abdomen: “Remember when you told me you had no plans to bear offspring, and I told you that due to my parents’ situation, I didn’t have similar plans either?”

“Yes.” At the time he had pressed the question repeatedly, and Xiang Haikui thought he wanted to keep those two energy clusters. “Were you lying?”

“No, the Torch Dragon tribe isn’t down to just me. We won’t die out. I genuinely had no plans to marry and have children before.” Yin Changli walked toward her. “But when the child’s mother is you, my attitude completely changed.”

He had always analyzed the pros and cons with her, secretly hoping to persuade her to try to bear the child.

But he also knew that was her humiliation—it was impossible.

Yin Changli took both her hands, placing them in his palms and gently rubbing them to soothe her emotions.

Xiang Haikui wasn’t accustomed to such intimacy. Her expression was unnatural, but she didn’t pull away.

She couldn’t deny that she particularly liked his comfort when she was in a bad mood.

Whenever she was influenced by Tian Kuang’s mind, his gentle comfort always quickly calmed her.

This was something no one else could accomplish.

The higher her cultivation, the more she craved this comfort.

Yin Changli spoke slowly: “At that time, everything was still unknown. If that child had been nurtured successfully, I would have had my power absorbed, becoming as powerless and vulnerable as I am now.”

“Yes.”

“I think when you were deciding whether to nurture that child, you must have considered my situation. But I’m not like you. My mind was empty, as if I had returned to those years when I lost my memory. My heart and eyes were full of you, and I only wanted to form a small family with you. Race, ideals, all the schemes of half a lifetime—I threw them aside. None of it mattered.”

That was the only time he experienced having both, and without hesitation, he chose her.

After calming down, he had reflected on himself.

He marveled that he truly was his father’s most useless son, the laughingstock of the Mountain Sea Tribe, so driven by emotion that he could never accomplish great things.

But the difficulty lay in defining what truly constituted “great things.”

If he had to do it over again, considering the burden on his shoulders, would he coldly tell her that the child couldn’t be kept?

No, he wouldn’t.

“Because I would convince myself that for those ‘great things,’ Shuluoye failed, and I took his place. If I fail, someone else will step up.”

Holding her calloused palm, Yin Changli pressed his forehead against hers. “But you only have me, and must only have me. If I can’t give peace of mind to the woman I love, then no matter what ‘great things’ I aspire to, I don’t deserve to win.”

His voice was as light as a feather, but when it fell into Xiang Haikui’s heart, it was like a spark, slowly spreading wildfire.

She took several deep breaths, looking up at his eyes filled with tenderness, saying nothing.

And Yin Changli saw her long, curled eyelashes trembling slightly, her once bright eyes now covered with a layer of mist.

He knew that if he said two more sentences, she would surely break down and rush into his arms, sobbing.

This girl’s greatest virtue wasn’t her courage.

Rather, it was that with a boulder suspended over her head and treading on knife edges, she had at most forged a body of steel, not an iron heart.

This was actually what he hoped for—that she could show vulnerability in front of him.

But when it happened, he found he preferred her to be happy, happy for a long, long time.

He deliberately sighed: “See? With my personality, it’s a miracle that my ‘great enterprise’ has come to its current state. Truly amazing.”

“Amazing?” Xiang Haikui was diverted. Her lips curled as she withdrew her hands and patted his chest. “You should thank your luck for falling in love with me, so I didn’t hold you back, okay?”

Seeing her smile, Yin Changli also smiled: “Who says otherwise? But it has little to do with luck—mainly my good taste. You’re worth it. Little Kui, you deserve to be someone’s definite choice. They don’t understand that whoever chooses you is the winner, so I will ultimately be the biggest winner.”

“Stop being disgusting.” Xiang Haikui had heard plenty of such praise when he had lost his memory before. She had been so annoyed that she’d knocked him out with Tian Kuang.

Now it wasn’t so disgusting anymore; it even felt a bit sweet.

The feeling was marvelous, like biting into a red sugar rice cake—soft, fragrant, sweet, and sticky.

“Disgusting? But you seem to enjoy hearing it.” Yin Changli teased her.

“Just rest well.” Xiang Haikui made threatening gestures at him.

If not for considering his weakened state, she would have hit him with Tian Kuang. She turned his shoulders and pushed him toward the bed.

The mountain wind grew stronger, and she went to close the half-open window.

“Our Little Kui is so considerate.” He praised.

“The wind is so strong yet still can’t fill your mouth!” This was embarrassing; she had to leave quickly.

“Where are you going? Didn’t you just swear to protect me like when I lost my memory?” Yin Changli sat on the bed, pointing to a corner where there was room for a couch. “During those years when I had no power, you always slept guarding me.”

Xiang Haikui waved her hand with her back to him: “Back then, we were away from home, and I was still weak. Times have changed.”

Yin Changli: “If you say it’s like before, then it must be the same.”

Xiang Haikui: …

Ignoring him, she opened the door and left.

From inside: “Oh? Breaking your word?”

Her head buzzing, she poked her head back in: “I just woke up and want to get some fresh air outside. I’ll come back later, okay, boss?”

Yin Changli twirled his fingers in his long hair, raising an eyebrow: “Am I making it hard for you to breathe?”

Xiang Haikui was at a loss for words, glaring at him: “You just escaped death—aren’t you tired? Where do you get all these questions from?”

He opened his arms, looking like he was heroically sacrificing himself: “I am very tired, but if you need me, I’ll be fine…”

“Bang!” Xiang Haikui returned, slamming the door and conjuring a broom.

Yin Changli’s eyelid twitched, thinking he was about to be beaten for being too cheeky.

Xiang Haikui was just sweeping up the remains of the wooden table.

“Our Little Kui is so virtuous.” Yin Changli lay on his side watching her sweep, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Shut your mouth before you eat dust.” Xiang Haikui tilted the broom, deliberately raising wood fragments.

Yin Changli covered his nose, his long sleeve falling back to reveal clean, strong arms: “I’m helping you find that feeling from before.”

Xiang Haikui did find the feeling of being disgusted by him from before. She thought, since that’s the case, don’t blame her for bringing out the big guns!

Turning with the broom, she put one hand on her hip: “Get up.”

Yin Changli blinked, obediently sitting up.

Xiang Haikui raised her chin: “Get off the bed.”

Yin Changli complied.

“Here.” Xiang Haikui tossed the broom to him, kicked off her shoes, and jumped onto the bed, lying down in his warm spot. “You want me to find the feeling from before? Back then, I was only responsible for protecting you. Making the bed, serving tea, sewing, and embroidering—even peeling crabs was your job. Have you forgotten?”

Yin Changli: …

His smile gradually became awkward.

Finally winning a round, Xiang Haikui felt extremely pleased: “If we say it’s like before, then it must be the same.”

Yin Changli coughed twice: “But my current physical condition…”

Forget it. If they kept arguing, what if she refused to share his room?

He prepared to turn around with the broom.

“Wait.” Xiang Haikui first crossed her legs, then extended her hand, full of affectation: “First, pour me a cup of tea.”

Yin Changli: …

No matter. After all, it was just the two of them. He could treat it as a little romantic game.

While Yin Changli treated this as a romantic game between them, Xiang Haikui didn’t see it that way.

She ordered him around without regard for the setting, just as she had when he lost his memory.

Therefore, when his body improved slightly, he didn’t dare go out easily, nor did he allow tribe members to enter his room casually.

Especially those elders who always wanted to ask: now that they had the formation plates, when would the other prisoners be released?

Yin Changli dismissed them with a single phrase: “The time isn’t right yet.”

But he couldn’t block Bai Xingxian.

“Uncle!”

Bai Xingxian had been outside recruiting small tribal forces. When he received news of Yin Changli’s return, he immediately rushed back.

Leaving Lu Xiqiao behind, he transformed into a small hamster and ran back as fast as his legs could carry him.

The door had no restrictions, but he dared not enter without permission. Panting, he knocked outside: “Uncle?”

Inside the room, Yin Changli felt a chill down his spine. He looked at the crab he was almost done peeling, then at Xiang Haikui opposite him, who was dipping half a crab leg in vinegar.

“Why are you looking at me? Open the door.” Xiang Haikui licked her fingers. “Little Bai has seen you peel crabs before. He even taught you.”

Yin Changli straightened his posture, steeling himself: “Come in.”

Only then did Bai Xingxian push the door open. Seeing the scene inside, he paused.

“Close the door.” Yin Changli continued peeling the crab, his posture elegant, as if sculpting a work of art.

Xiang Haikui snorted disdainfully. He was such a pretender.

Bai Xingxian walked in cautiously.

Seeing that although his uncle was pale and his energy severely disrupted, his mental state was excellent, Bai Xingxian’s heart settled a little.

But he couldn’t stop his eyes from reddening: “Uncle…”

“Why are you crying?” Yin Changli’s gaze was stern. “How old are you? Crying at the slightest thing—have you no shame?”

Bai Xingxian forced back his tears.

Seeing him inhale so deeply that his chest heaved, standing like a grandson, Xiang Haikui pulled out a chair: “Little Bai, sit.”

He didn’t dare.

“Sit.” Yin Changli also spoke.

Only then did Bai Xingxian sit down, quietly transmitting: “Little Kui, how is Uncle’s health?”

Xiang Haikui: “Don’t worry, he has a racial talent, doesn’t need to cultivate again…”

“That’s wonderful.” Bai Xingxian was overjoyed. He casually took a crab from the plate and began skillfully peeling it, then placed it in the dish in front of his uncle.

Xiang Haikui watched this scene, remembering how the three of them used to have this food chain.

Times had changed, and they had all changed, yet somehow they hadn’t changed at all.

“How’s it going?” Yin Changli asked him.

“Hmm?” Bai Xingxian was slightly stunned before realizing he was asking about his achievements over these years.

He hastily gave a serious report.

The report was long, lasting two or three hours, with Yin Changli occasionally asking questions.

Xiang Haikui only listened without speaking, offering no opinions.

After finishing the crab, she asked Yin Changli for a handkerchief to wipe her hands.

Not just any handkerchief would do—it had to be his beloved one embroidered with sunflowers and hyenas.

Just to see his eyelid twitch while he maintained his composure.

“That’s about the extent of progress so far. After visiting you, I’ll go back to work…” Bai Xingxian finished, anxiously studying his expression, wanting to know if he had met his expectations.

Yin Changli tapped his fingers on the table: “You don’t need to go out for a while. Stay by my side.”

Bai Xingxian immediately agreed: “Yes, Uncle.”

However, after a few days, Bai Xingxian privately pulled Xiang Haikui aside to ask: “Little Kui, is Uncle alright?”

Xiang Haikui didn’t understand: “What’s wrong?”

“No matter how I look at it, Uncle seems like someone with limited time left.” Bai Xingxian was extremely worried. “His instructions to me are too long-term, as if he’s entrusting his final wishes.”

Hearing Bai Xingxian’s words, Xiang Haikui also grew suspicious.

Returning to the room, she saw Yin Changli wasn’t there. He had left a note saying he was by the lake.

She went to the lake and found him lying on a rattan chair, fishing.

Walking to his side, she asked directly: “Are you dying?”

Her question genuinely stunned Yin Changli. After thinking for a moment, he stood up, offering her the rattan chair: “You sit, I’ll stand.”

Xiang Haikui pushed him back down: “Little Bai just came to see me…”

She couldn’t keep things to herself and asked directly.

Yin Changli couldn’t help but smile as he listened: “How could that be? Little Bai misunderstood.”

Xiang Haikui couldn’t smile, her face as somber as the lake water: “Tell the truth.”

Yin Changli hurriedly said, “It is the truth. I told him these things because after I recover a bit more, I plan to leave for a while.”

He hadn’t wanted to tell her, planning to surprise her. “To go to your homeland.”

Xiang Haikui frowned: “Haven’t I told you? I won’t leave until you’ve fully recovered.”

“That’s not it.” Yin Changli shook his head. “I arbitrarily captured someone from Earth, so I need to explain your alliance there.”

After hearing his explanation, Xiang Haikui was puzzled: “You captured me. If I, the involved party, don’t mind, why do you need to explain?”

“It’s not good to break the rules.” Yin Changli stood up again, pulling her to sit down, then picked up the fishing rod and stood beside her. “From what Alliance Leader Qu said, it’s just a formality.”

“You met him too?” Xiang Haikui was surprised.

“No, I met his sister and brother-in-law, Qu Yue and Jiu Huang.” Yin Changli explained, “I met them in the dream void.”

They would have taken another two or three years to get out if not for the help of that young couple.

Xiang Haikui was even more shocked: “Damn, they’ve even tracked you to the void?”

What kind of special department was this—a ghost department? Omnipresent?

“But there’s a pile of things to handle now, and you’re just leaving like this…”

“This matter can’t be rushed; it needs to be handled gradually. After I release the imprisoned tribe members, they’ll also need time to seclude themselves and recover.” Yin Changli pointed to the cave where Qi Yin was in seclusion.

Moreover, he couldn’t always be by Little Bai’s side; occasional guidance was sufficient.

Otherwise, Little Bai would keep relying on him.

“When I’m not around, Han Qi will help him, but Han Qi will also use him. It’s cruel, but he must adapt to this kind of growth.”

Yin Changli looked up at the sky. “And I’ll take the opportunity to go to the larger world outside and seek another piece of Tianwu Divine Stone.”

“There’s no reason related to me?” Xiang Haikui heard him list this string of reasons.

In her heart, she was certain there was a reason related to her. She knew he understood she wanted to return to her homeland to rest, temporarily not wanting to get involved in the conflicts here.

She had collected the debts she needed to collect, repaid the debts of gratitude she owed, and had no reason to interfere further.

As a stranger in a foreign land, she couldn’t represent either side on the battlefield, killing people she didn’t even know.

“Regarding the part about you, I’m quite conflicted.” Yin Changli pulled up the rod, catching a small fish and putting it in the bucket.

It was enough for Xiang Haikui to have one meal. He picked up the bucket, preparing to return. “I want you far from strife, yet not far from me. I have no choice but to travel between the two places. But the time flows differently in both realms; I’ll age faster than you.”

Xiang Haikui saw him struggling with the bucket, his steps unsteady, and as she got up, she naturally took his hand.

The two walked back together, and she burst out laughing: “You care about age? Do you even remember exactly how old you are?”

“About twenty.”

“Have you no shame?”

“Really.”

His life had been waiting for an end since the day his clan was destroyed and his family ruined.

Unexpectedly, twenty years ago, he found a sunflower that gave him a new beginning.