Lu Xiqiao was stunned: “Could it be a protective formation?”

Talented elders often left some of their power in the consciousness of their younger relatives. At crucial moments, this could block a fatal attack.

More powerful ones could even immediately locate their juniors and go to rescue them.

Conversely, if an elder suffered unbearable, severe injuries, the junior might also be affected.

“That can’t be right? Those who could severely injure your uncle can be counted on one hand, right?” Lu Xiqiao was thinking about who those might be when he suddenly remembered that Xiang Haikui was with Yin Changli. “If even Senior Yin couldn’t handle it, then what about my Sister Kui…?!”

He also began to feel dizzy and forcefully patted Bai Xingxian’s back, urging him, “Quickly, try to see if you can trace your uncle’s consciousness in reverse! We need to hurry and save them!”

Bai Xingxian, already dizzy, nearly vomited from his patting: “If I leave now, what about here…”

“What could be more important than your uncle and Sister Kui’s lives?!” Lu Xiqiao was anxious and nearly pointed at the flying ash from the volcano. “The Heavenly Race has so many trusted subordinates. Can’t Han Qi handle this situation?”

“Of course not!” Bai Xingxian’s anger reduced his headache considerably. “I was just guessing. How could my uncle encounter trouble so easily? Besides, my uncle doesn’t seem to have left any protective formations in my consciousness sea. When I was born, my father was still alive—if anyone left protection, it would have been him, right?”

Lu Xiqiao scratched his scalp, thinking that made sense.

Bai Xingxian steadied himself by leaning on his knee: “More likely it’s a flare-up of hidden injuries. After all, your medical skills are still at an exploratory stage—no matter where I’m injured, you forcefully infuse a bunch of Jianmu power into me.”

After the merging of good and evil fruits, Yin Changli had given Lu Xiqiao a medical text and a poison manual. Now he practiced medicine with one hand and poison with the other, seeking to find a balance between the two.

Lu Xiqiao realized he had been impulsive and immediately smiled apologetically: “Don’t be angry, Brother Bai. I’ve been accompanying you through trials of sword mountains and seas of fire recently—I’m too tired, so my temper is inevitably a bit irritable.”

Bai Xingxian was very angry. All voices questioning whether he would harm his uncle after his divine sense returned made him angry.

But thinking of other matters, his anger dissipated, and his heart warmed somewhat.

During those days, he had also observed the changes in Lu Xiqiao.

Seeing this originally kind-hearted but somewhat naïve fellow becoming increasingly focused on benefits made him uncertain how much “friendship” remained in his heart.

Judging from Lu Xiqiao’s reaction just now, he could measure it.

At the same time, he reproached himself for harboring such thoughts.

He shouldn’t blame Lu Xiqiao for doubting him or blame any voices of doubt.

His uncle had taught him that whether others trusted him or not didn’t depend on their gaze but on his abilities—it was his issue.

On a mountaintop thousands of miles away, amid swirling clouds, Han Qi was leisurely playing the zither.

Xing Nǚ stood behind him, reporting the situation on the island: “Master, we have failed again.”

As expected, Han Qi smiled: “Very good.”

Xing Nǚ hesitantly asked: “Master always deliberately lets him win. Is it to make him lower his guard?”

Han Qi shook his head: “You’re overthinking. I’m simply letting him win.”

Xing Nǚ made an “ah” sound, increasingly unable to understand.

Lord Changli had Bai Xingxian recruit these minor tribes as cannon fodder. These tribes were insignificant when scattered, but if truly gathered together, they would form a considerable force.

When Lord Changli went to rescue those Mountain and Sea prisoners, wouldn’t this add wings to a tiger?

Wasn’t this what her master feared most?

Xing Nǚ stole a glance at her master, wondering if a trace of melancholy lurked beneath his bright smile.

She recalled the last time her master had moved against Qi Yin but failed miserably.

Everything had been perfectly prepared, except they hadn’t anticipated that the vicious beast Que Chi would still harbor master-disciple sentiments.

“Has Master been… persuaded by Lord Changli?” Xing Nǚ asked boldly. “And began to feel that those Mountain and Sea prisoners might not necessarily…”

The zither music abruptly stopped as Han Qi’s smile faded: “No, the existence of the Mountain and Sea beast tribes is a sword hanging over my human race.”

Xing Nǚ: “Then…”

Han Qi changed the subject: “But Bai Xingxian’s sudden ‘appearance’ has made me realize that I’ve always underestimated Brother Changli’s vision. He won’t release uncontrollable prisoners and doesn’t plan to seek bloody revenge against the Heavenly Race. Instead, he wants to elevate Bai Xingxian to power, aiming to exchange peace among all races at the smallest cost.”

He stood up facing the deep valley, the mountain wind making his sleeves flutter. “Brother Changli, having Bai Xingxian recruit these minor tribes, is to train Bai Xingxian and pave his way. At the same time, it’s deliberately shown to me…”

Showing him Bai Xingxian’s abilities and character clearly, while mocking his narrow-mindedness.

Stop using the human race’s interests as an excuse for unscrupulous methods. In the end, the person who could secure the greatest benefits and lasting peace for the human race was Yin Changli, not Han Qi.

“I even suspect that the heaven-destroying divine artifact doesn’t exist at all. If it does exist, it wouldn’t be a killing instrument.”

Han Qi’s mood had been incredibly complex lately.

He had always thought his conflict with Yin Changli was merely one of standpoints, but it wasn’t.

Yin Changli had said that even without their standpoint conflict, they wouldn’t become close friends because he wasn’t worthy—this was true.

“To think I was so aggressive before. Looking back now, it truly is…”

Xing Nǚ understood and saw her master’s dejection. For her master, losing to Lord Changli, and losing so thoroughly, was indeed a heavy blow: “But it’s not your fault. Why didn’t he tell you directly before?”

Han Qi looked up at the sky and shook his head: “Because Brother Changli knew I wouldn’t believe him and couldn’t casually expose Bai Xingxian’s existence. Additionally, he might not have been entirely certain what Bai Xingxian would become after his divine sense returned.”

The facts proved he had taught him extremely well.

Xing Nǚ asked: “Then what does Master plan to do now?”

Switch sides to help Bai Xingxian?

If her master’s guesses were all true, this path would undoubtedly benefit all races, except the Heavenly Race.

It would also be making amends, an excellent opportunity to turn back.

If he continued to help Di Jun, all her master’s previous actions “for the human race” would be face-slapping.

But Xing Nǚ sensed her master’s unwillingness to concede.

She was inwardly shocked—could it be that sometimes her master’s actions weren’t out of necessity?

Her disciple’s questioning gaze made Han Qi quite embarrassed. For a moment, he couldn’t quite determine his state of mind.

He sat down again and plucked a zither string: “Actually, I haven’t completely lost to Brother Changli. He thinks it’s beautiful, but is it so simple to accomplish? Even if I switch sides and join forces with him to support Bai Xingxian, the formations imprisoning those Mountain and Sea prisoners aren’t so easily broken.”

Just this prolonged battle would make it difficult to determine victory.

Stealing the array disks was now impossible. Han Qi’s last attempt had alerted them, and Di Jun would certainly be guarding against him now.

Furthermore, the Mountain and Sea tribes were no longer what they once were. Their numbers were less than a tenth of what they used to be, and they lacked many fierce characters, such as Yin Changli’s father and Chaos and other ferocious beasts that Yin Changli didn’t intend to release.

Without a true heaven-destroying divine artifact, how could it be easy to defeat the Heavenly Race?

Di Jun, as the “alpha wolf,” had consistently high prestige among the Heavenly Race. A mere Bai Xingxian couldn’t shake that.

Though the defeat at Beyond City was humiliating, Di Jun had just returned from his tribulation then, which was understandable.

Moreover, it happened in the Underworld, which the Heavenly Race people hadn’t witnessed firsthand…

As Han Qi was contemplating, a streak of light swiftly broke through the clouds.

Xing Nǚ received it in her hand—a jade slip. After examining it with her divine sense, she exclaimed in shock: “Master, something has happened in the upper realm!”

Han Qi: “Hmm?”

“That Miss Xiang…” Mentioning Xiang Haikui, Xing Nǚ’s eyes showed some admiration. “She attacked the Heavenly Realm and seized the array disks…”

When Han Qi heard that Xiang Haikui had captured the array disks but didn’t activate them when she had the chance, he knew he had guessed correctly—Yin Changli indeed didn’t plan to release uncontrollable prisoners.

Then, his expression turned suspicious.

Based on his understanding of Xiang Haikui, her recklessness was a kind of “indifference.” Simply put, she had no sense of the bigger picture or right and wrong. She loved whoever loved her, and everything else was immaterial.

Rescuing Qi Yin should be her top priority now, yet under these circumstances, she restrained herself from touching the array disks—not out of fear of world chaos, but to preserve Yin Changli’s lifelong ideal.

“It seems Brother Changli is in a dire situation.” Han Qi frowned tightly. “Something major and unpredictable must have occurred, completely disrupting Brother Changli’s plans—more severe than any previous occasion.”

Xing Nǚ drew a breath: “What major event could it be?”

“Since it’s beyond expectations, how could I guess?” Han Qi looked up to see the stars dimming in the sky. “Ten days…”

Another crossroads where a choice must be made.

Five days passed uneventfully.

Xiang Haikui grew increasingly calm.

The more relaxed she became, the tenser Jing Ran’s nerves grew. He watched her every move with his divine sense.

On the surface, he resembled a venomous snake lurking in the darkness, targeting its prey.

But the reality was precisely the opposite. He was the prey, and Xiang Haikui was the venomous snake—he had to be constantly vigilant.

Xiang Haikui had starved too often in the past. Even now, she hadn’t developed the habit of abstaining from food. After five days, she felt anxious, like low blood sugar without eating anything.

Fortunately, she had ample supplies. After eating some dried venison that Bai Xingxian had prepared for her, she wanted something warm.

She had some pre-made bread dough in a jade box, so she took out her pill-refining furnace and skillfully baked one.

Her control of the fire was excellent, and when the herb bread came out of the oven, its aroma spread everywhere.

Jing Ran watched the entire process, afraid she might try something suspicious.

But this fragrance was strangely familiar to him, causing him to be occasionally distracted.

When he saw the shape of the finished bread, he suddenly remembered that during his tribulation incarnation as a human, he often bought this for breakfast.

Jing Ran was slightly stunned. She had said before that for years, she had watched him from behind.

She didn’t just watch—she also ate the food he liked and could even make it.

The scent was almost identical, so the taste probably wouldn’t differ much either.

Like a breeze rippling across water, his heart was touched, and the cold, hard lines of his face gradually softened.

They were far apart, and Xiang Haikui completely treated him as air. When she sensed his gaze intensely fixed on the bread in her hand, she was also stunned for a moment before feeling nauseated.

She was used to it—too many habits were related to him.

Throwing it away now would be too obvious. Xiang Haikui raised her arm and tossed it to him: “What? Didn’t you say life on Earth didn’t feel real?”

Before his mind could react, Jing Ran’s hand reached out automatically.

Warmth immediately spread from his palm throughout his body.

Looking down at the pastry in his hand, even his gaze became exceptionally gentle.

The days of his tribulation incarnation indeed lacked a sense of reality, but when the familiar taste entered his nostrils, it seemed to awaken certain memories hidden within his cells.

Just as he was about to take a bite, he suddenly remembered the lollipop he had once given to Xiang Haikui.

After a brief moment of distraction, he broke out in a cold sweat.

Xiang Haikui had been cursing herself, but sensing his intense reaction, she was puzzled at first, then burst into laughter: “What? Afraid I’ll turn your own tactics against you, using sentimentality to poison you?”

Jing Ran clenched his jaw.

Hmph, Xiang Haikui did wish to do so, but unfortunately, she didn’t have any poison potent enough to harm him.

Regretful at heart, but unwilling to concede verbally: “If I did that, Tian Kuang would despise me!”

The sword case beside her trembled slightly—Tian Kuang was jumping inside the case, as if agreeing with Xiang Haikui’s words.

The item in his hand was crushed fiercely by Jing Ran, who said harshly: “Half of the ten days have passed, and Yin Changli hasn’t shown any movement. Can you still sit calmly?”

“Seeing you so restless, I feel I could sit for a hundred years.” Xiang Haikui put away the pill furnace and continued her meditation.

Jing Ran slowly loosened his hand, and the crumpled bread gradually regained its elasticity.

Was her sudden creation of this item meant to repay him in kind through “empathy”?

Jing Ran began to recall every detail of her time by his side.

The person beside him was both his beloved and someone who might use and harm him at any moment.

How had she felt then? He seemed to understand somewhat now.

His heart, having been damaged once before, felt as if it was cracking again, with a twisting pain.

No, he had nearly been bewitched by her!

Jing Ran’s pupils ignited with golden flames as he whirled to her front like a tornado.

Xiang Haikui reacted extremely quickly, grabbing her sword case and jumping half a zhang away before he could grasp her wrist, forcefully restraining herself from drawing her sword: “Don’t forget our wager!”

Jing Ran advanced toward her: “This is different!”

Xiang Haikui didn’t understand what he meant.

Jing Ran spoke vehemently: “You now want to kill me, but I care about you and never thought of hurting you. It’s completely different!”

What nonsense?

Xiang Haikui thought for a long time before understanding what he meant by “different.” He misunderstood that her sudden eating was deliberately meant to retaliate against him.

“I don’t want to discuss ‘harm’ with you. Let’s talk about your so-called ‘care’.” Xiang Haikui stared at the golden flames in his pupils. “Do you understand what ‘care’ means?”

“I don’t understand? Have you seen this golden lotus!” Jing Ran pointed at their feet.

Back at the Soul-Nurturing Pool, she had nearly gone berserk. After Jing Ran discovered she couldn’t suppress Tian Kuang’s wild power, he privately sent people to find a treasure.

“I sought this golden lotus originally to help you suppress Tian Kuang later, to help you pass tribulation and merge with the Dao. But what happened?” The emotions suppressed in his heart broke free, and his chest heaved violently. “I never expected that when the golden lotus was obtained, it would first extract the Tian Kuang sword energy you left in my heart meridians!”

Xiang Haikui was slightly stunned.

Looking at this golden lotus, she felt a chill down her spine.

If a man doesn’t care about you at all, it’s one thing for him to harm you.

But when he can “cherish” and “poison” simultaneously, with no fluctuation in his heart, isn’t that terrifying?

Xiang Haikui gazed at his angry expression: “Then let me ask you a question.”

Jing Ran closed his eyes, controlling his emotions: “Speak.”

Xiang Haikui questioned: “When you sent the woman you ‘cared about’ to bear the child of your mortal enemy Yin Changli, didn’t you feel even slightly bitter?”

Jing Ran laughed coldly: “You think I’m a mundane person?”

“Is that so?” Xiang Haikui challenged. “Then if I married you and slept with different men every day, making your head grow green, would you not care?”

Jing Ran’s mouth twitched, opening several times before finally clenching his teeth tightly.

Xiang Haikui said fiercely: “So? Constantly saying you care about me—you care about your mother!”

She then walked away to sit down and continue meditating. If she continued talking, she would truly be unable to resist drawing her sword.

Jing Ran stood in place for a long time, her scolding making his breathing difficult to steady.

…

Three more days passed.

The increasingly restless Jing Ran made a decision.

He stood up and said to Xiang Haikui: “Dare you follow me to a place?”

Xiang Haikui kept her eyes closed: “Where?”

Jing Ran: “Outside the palace.”

Xiang Haikui: “I won’t go.”

“If I take you out voluntarily, it doesn’t count as your escape.”

“I still won’t go.” With only two days left, better to avoid complications. Xiang Haikui shook her head. “Unless it’s Han Qi’s Star-Plucking Palace, I won’t go anywhere else.”

“Do you think you could escape from the Heavenly Well with me present?” Jing Ran truly wasn’t afraid to take her to the Heavenly Well. “Fine, I’ll take you to Han Qi’s place first, then you’ll accompany me somewhere.”

Xiang Haikui hesitated briefly, then agreed. Exploring the path was always a good thing: “Will someone try to assassinate you on the way, forcing me to draw my sword?”

Jing Ran contained himself: “When we established the wager, you already mentioned that such situations don’t count.”

“Did I?” Xiang Haikui thought for a moment—she had indeed said so.

“This isn’t Beyond City; the Heavenly Realm isn’t accessible to just anyone.” Jing Ran flew down from the golden lotus.

Xiang Haikui followed Jing Ran aboard a magnificent immortal carriage. Its frame was carved with sun birds, every detail proclaiming his noble status.

They sat on opposite sides. As they were about to pass through the palace gates, a column of armored guards who had just returned from patrolling the royal city immediately lined up on both sides, like the gate guards.

The leader bowed with clasped hands: “Di Jun.”

The immortal carriage stopped, and Jing Ran asked through the curtain: “How goes it?”

The leader had originally intended to reply via divine communication, but since Di Jun asked openly, he replied openly: “We haven’t discovered any trace of Yin Changli.”

Jing Ran instructed: “Don’t relax your vigilance.”

The guard leader bowed: “Yes!”

Jing Ran: “Let me remind you once more: if you discover Bai Xingxian, don’t rashly try to capture him. Though he was raised by Yin Changli to be useless and became a slave of the Mountain and Sea tribes, his royal divine sense remains. You can’t handle him—just notify This Lord.”

“Understood!” The guard leader responded solemnly, then added angrily, “That treacherous Yin Changli never dares to confront us directly but vents his private hatred on…”

He hesitated on how to refer to Bai Xingxian. “…on a child!”

“Understandable. Even with the ‘lowborn’ mark washed away, those hundred years as a slave have undoubtedly left an indelible imprint on his heart. Unable to defeat This Lord, he enslaved our royal bloodline, somewhat allowing him to regain some of his previously lost dignity.”

Jing Ran opened his eyes. “This Lord previously thought I had underestimated Yin Changli, but it turns out I had overestimated him.”

He glanced sideways, his gaze penetrating the gauze curtain toward the place where Yin Changli had once knelt in his youth. “Having knelt is having knelt. The so-called regaining of dignity is merely self-deception. In this lifetime, he will never be able to raise his head before this Lord.”

These words were meant for Xiang Haikui to hear.

He had expected Xiang Haikui to fly into a rage, but she didn’t.

His heart settled slightly—it seemed she didn’t care about Yin Changli as much as he had thought.

Xiang Haikui truly wasn’t angry and also looked at the place where her young boss had once knelt.

In everyone’s eyes, that period was his humiliation.

But in her boss’s heart, it was merely a life experience.

He hadn’t cared much about it and had no thoughts of washing away humiliation.

Xiang Haikui had originally wanted to retort to Jing Ran, but felt it pointless.

The two of them weren’t even on the same level as people.

The nightmare world was like the universe before creation—a complete chaos.

After their mutual defeat, the symbiotic spirit had vanished without a trace.

Unable to see, his divine sense useless, Yin Changli couldn’t find its tracks for the moment and could only carefully sense its presence.

Black electric arcs frantically coursed over his battle-torn garment, neutralizing the Demon Spirit’s energy he had previously absorbed.

The battle garment wouldn’t last much longer. Blood flowed down his arm, dripping from his fingertips, falling somewhere in this seemingly solidified space, making no sound.

Yin Changli’s injuries were severe—his inner core had cracked, all five organs damaged. However, the Demon Spirit must be even more gravely wounded than him.

The moment of victory wasn’t far off, but he didn’t have much time left either.

Suddenly, he seemed to hear the sound of “ice cracking.”

This sound was all too familiar to him, something he always heard when first awakening from hibernation.

Whoosh…

A wind blew past his ears, and a glimmer of light appeared before his eyes. Under the shifting light and shadows, he saw his surroundings and was abruptly stunned.

He was inside a massive block of ice, with countless cracks throughout the ice layer—this was his typical state when ending hibernation.

Looking down at himself, he wasn’t wearing his battle armor and had no injuries. He had taken the form of a black snake.

At the same moment, a flood of chaotic information surged into his Sea of Consciousness.

—”Yin Changli, do you remember what happened before your hibernation?”

Before hibernation, he had brought back a mortal girl from another world named Xiang Haikui. He had gifted her the Tian Kuang sword, allowing her to change her fate.

—”And then?”

And then? Yin Changli’s head throbbed.

Whenever he first awakened from hibernation, he always fell into boundless confusion.

He seemed to have had a lengthy dream where he lost his memory, fell in love with that girl, and awakened during dual cultivation with her, ending his hibernation prematurely…

—”Have you ever awakened prematurely before?”

No, never.

So was this his true awakening now?

The memory loss, falling in love, dual cultivation, and pursuit were all just a dream during his hibernation?

—”There was never any Demon Spirit, and you’ve never fallen in love with anyone. Then for whom are you fighting so desperately?”

…

At this moment, the symbiotic spirit was seeking an opportunity to strike.

But to its astonishment, Yin Changli showed no sign of mental confusion, remaining extraordinarily calm.

—”You don’t believe it?”

The black snake coiled itself within the ice layer without responding.

—”Given the world’s mysteriousness, all people are like frogs at the bottom of a well. What gives you the confidence to distinguish between heaven and earth, yin and yang?”

“I can’t distinguish them,” the black snake laughed.

His calmness wasn’t due to exceptional mental strength that immediately saw through the Demon Spirit’s divine ability.

It was because this scene was too familiar.

Lately, whenever he thought about how he refused to accept his memories from when he had amnesia, hurting Xiang Haikui, he couldn’t help but ponder if there was a way to turn back time, to traverse space-time, and return to the past, to their first meeting.

He wouldn’t give her the Tian Kuang sword.

He wouldn’t kick her into a hyena’s den to help with her training.

Nor would he burden her with heavy responsibilities, sending her to disrupt some grand scheme.

After bringing her back, he would carefully nurture her, clearing all shadows from her life path, so she wouldn’t need to chase the sun with such hardship.

“How wonderful it would be if this were true,” the black snake sighed. “I’m truly disappointed.”

Symbiotic Spirit: …

“Crack,” the ice layer approached the edge of shattering.

The black snake concentrated its mental power, trying to break through its divine barrier and, in the moment of breakthrough, capture its position to deliver a fatal strike.

Victory or defeat hinged on this single move.

The symbiotic spirit exerted all its power to suppress him within the chaos barrier woven by its divine abilities, continuing to disturb his mind.

With its experiences, it couldn’t believe it couldn’t confuse this mere junior: “Have you ever considered that if you’re truly just awakening from hibernation, the Xiang Haikui you fell in love with is just the Xiang Haikui in your dream, a figment of your imagination, not her original self in reality…”

He interrupted: “Demon Spirit, some things shouldn’t be overthought. For instance, you say the ‘Xiang Haikui’ I love is a product of my imagination during hibernation, then whose ‘imagination’ am I? Could I be Xiang Haikui’s imagination?”

The symbiotic spirit didn’t respond, clearly not understanding what he meant.

“Let’s make a hypothesis, then.”

The black snake spoke unhurriedly. “Xiang Heng died back then, truly died, with no soul transmigration involved. Xiang Haikui grew up suffering bullying, developed mental issues, and always imagined her father hadn’t died but had transmigrated to another world and would one day return for her…”

A flower contains a world; even a dream briefly forms a small world, let alone a person’s powerful thoughts.

“So, our enclosed small world is created by her imagination, existing based on her fantasy…”

As the symbiotic spirit pondered his words, it suddenly felt a chill down its spine.

“And after our imaginary world formed, it began to continuously self-perfect, escaping her control to some extent.”

“Though all things gained self-awareness, the foundation of the world’s existence wouldn’t change. Tell me, what is this foundation?”

This question wasn’t difficult. The symbiotic spirit answered: “It’s Xiang Heng.”

In a world Xiang Haikui imagined for Xiang Heng, naturally, Xiang Heng was the foundation of the world.

The black snake smiled: “Demon Spirit, you targeted Xiang Heng. After you shot the Tianwu Divine Arrow, killing Xiang Heng, what do you think would happen to the world?”

The symbiotic spirit felt increasingly horrified—after the world’s foundation was destroyed, the entire world would collapse!

The black snake sighed deeply: “So what awaits you may not be rebirth, but destruction…” His voice deepened. “Fate loves to play tricks. No matter how meticulously you plot, in the end, it’s just bringing about your demise!”

Like a hammer blow to the head, the symbiotic spirit’s mind shook.

This was the essence of “terrifying upon deep reflection.”

The richer one’s experience and the broader one’s vision, the easier it was to be frightened by such “terrifying reflections.”

Moreover, the two were currently competing with mental strength, both hanging by a thread with nerves taut.

The symbiotic spirit sharply exclaimed: “This hypothesis doesn’t stand! How old is Xiang Haikui, and how long has our world existed? Don’t forget, she was ‘born’ from me!”

Little black snake: “Oh? But who told you all this?”

Symbiotic spirit: “It’s our personal experience!”

Little black snake: “How can you be certain these ‘experiences’ actually happened, rather than being forcibly implanted in your mind by some mysterious power?”

“I…”

“Just like now, I’m within your divine technique, and aren’t you constantly trying to stuff false memories into my mind to mislead me?”

“But…”

“To return your own words to you: Given the world’s mysteriousness, all people are like frogs at the bottom of a well. What gives you the confidence to distinguish between heaven and earth, yin and yang?!”

The black snake’s final words rolled like thunder, causing the entire space to suddenly vibrate!

His mental power completely overwhelmed the Demon Spirits in that instant, and the ice layer shattered with a “boom.”

Yin Changli precisely captured the Demon Spirit’s position. As his consciousness returned to his body, he rushed toward its location.

His right hand, already stained crimson with blood, spread its five fingers to form claws, tearing through its protective barrier with a “swoosh” and pressing down on its head.

The blood on his claws ignited into raging flames that burned fiercely down from its crown.

Hearing its shrill cry, Yin Changli said coldly, “In a straightforward confrontation, you might have had some chance of winning. But choosing to challenge me in my area of expertise—aren’t you being foolish?”

He then violently raised his hand, extracting a streak of light from the top of his head.

This light was the Tianwu Divine Arrow’s power extracted from Xiang Heng’s body.

Afterward, Yin Changli released his grip and moved several zhang away from it. “Of course, your foolishness extends beyond just this.”

“Foolish? I simply don’t understand! Can you comprehend the loneliness of my lifelong imprisonment!” Amidst the flames, the symbiotic spirit wailed mournfully. “You all want to defy fate—why can’t I!”

“Loneliness? Do you truly understand what solitude is?” Yin Changli wiped the blood from his lips with his thumb and sneered. “When both Xiang Heng and Xiang Haikui are dead, when no one in this vast world remembers you anymore—that’s true loneliness!”

“No! They are merely…”

Yin Changli forcefully interrupted: “If not, then what you feel isn’t loneliness but ambition!”

Obstinate and unrepentant—he didn’t wish to waste more words.

With a wave of his sleeve, he conjured a whirlwind, driving the blood flames to completely devour the Demon Spirit!

Gradually, the sounds ceased, the flames extinguished, leaving only a wisp of charred smoke.

“Is it dead?” Blood Asura appeared from somewhere.

“Not completely dead yet, but it can no longer pose much threat. Soon it will dissipate with the collapse of this place.” Yin Changli extinguished the fire on his hand, with the dark red divine arrow energy dancing in his palm.

His complexion was extremely pale, with exhaustion written all over his brow.

Previously unable to relax even slightly, now his entire being seemed drained, weakened, and on the verge of collapse.

His protective battle garment gradually liquefied, returning to two scales.

Severely damaged, they could no longer serve as ornaments at his temples.

Yin Changli carefully stored the scales away with reverence, then turned to see that Blood Asura’s condition was even worse than his own.

The severe injuries weren’t the main issue; the whites of his eyes were cloudy, indicating extreme emotional fluctuation.

“Congratulations, you’ve finally crawled your way to the gate of Dao Merger.” Yin Changli wasn’t surprised by this at all. Keeping him here wasn’t deliberately setting him up.

This place was particularly suitable for him to comprehend the essence of the Dream Sword.

“Gate of Dao Merger? No, I’m thinking about the hypothesis you discussed with the Demon Spirit.” The more Blood Asura pondered, the more his scalp tingled. “Our small world might truly be someone’s obsession, a fantasy, not reality?”

“Oh?” Yin Changli was curious. “You think about these things? I thought you would mock me, saying that in the end, this charlatan won through clever talk.”

“How is this merely clever talk? It’s entirely possible.” Blood Asura had always believed the essence of the Dream Sword was helping him distinguish between reality and dreams, but the closer he approached the edge of Dao Merger, the more he found himself unable to distinguish.

He looked at Yin Changli, hoping for some guidance.

It was embarrassing, but honestly, Yin Changli was half a master to him.

Yin Changli smiled, triggering sharp pain in his internal organs as his lips moved: “Do you know why I gave you the Dream Sword rather than Tian Kuang, Tian Ren, or the like?”

This question had troubled Blood Asura for years. Though divine swords often came with drawbacks, when Yin Changli bestowed swords, he always chose based on the wielder’s unique qualities.

What qualities had Yin Changli seen in him as a child?

“When I first obtained the Dream Sword, I studied it. Dream Sword, dream-seeing, seeing dreams as swords—it greatly disturbed my mind, and I knew I couldn’t cultivate it, but I discovered the key to cultivating it.” Yin Changli pressed on his shoulder.

Blood Asura held his breath.

Yin Changli continued explaining: “The key is… as long as the sword wielder is stupid enough, all terrifying reflections stop at the ‘reflection’ stage and never reach the ‘terrifying’ part.”

Blood Asura seriously pondered his words, then immediately darkened his face: “You are…”

Even at such a time, he still couldn’t resist annoying him?

Yin Changli’s initially tense nerves relaxed somewhat, and he laughed heartily.

“Alright, quickly think about how to get out—that’s what matters now.” Seeing his weakened state approaching the Five Decays of the celestial beings, Blood Asura couldn’t even muster anger.

Moreover, the sound of filthy black mud dripping and flowing everywhere constantly reminded him that the Nightmare Prison was about to collapse. “If we can’t get out before it collapses, we’ll fall into the void.”

“Shouldn’t you be the one thinking of a solution?” Yin Changli looked at the Dream Sword in his hand.

“With more time, that wouldn’t be a problem,” Blood Asura said helplessly. “The issue is we don’t have time now.”

Yin Changli should have a way to leave before the collapse—hope lay in the Tianwu Divine Arrow he held in his palm.

This energy body was no longer the true Tianwu Divine Arrow, but its power remained formidable.

As its forger, Yin Changli’s control far surpassed the Demon Spirit’s. He could certainly use its power to escape during the collapse.

Yin Changli shook his head: “This time, it truly depends on you, Blood Asura. Don’t place your hopes on the divine arrow.”

Indeed, he could use it to escape, but time wouldn’t allow it.

The passage connecting to the Xuantian Mirror had been damaged. After leaving, they wouldn’t know where they would end up.

Then, rushing to the Heavenly Realm to assist Xiang Haikui might be too late.

“It has other uses.” Yin Changli gazed at the energy body in his palm. “I hope there’s enough time…”

He also hoped he hadn’t misjudged Han Qi.

After the immortal carriage left the royal palace and entered the streets, Xiang Haikui noticed a sense of tension and vigilance throughout the royal city.

Nearly half the businesses were closed, and pedestrians were exceptionally scarce.

Apparently, everyone feared that all the Mountain and Sea prisoners would be released at once, with Yin Changli leading them in an attack, reigniting war.

Turning east, they traveled to increasingly remote areas.

Upon arriving at the Star-Plucking Palace, Han Qi wasn’t there—the entire mansion was empty, without even a guard.

The Heavenly Well was located in the backyard. Walking through the hall, Xiang Haikui couldn’t help but admire how fitting the estate’s name was—one truly could pluck stars with their hands here.

Few rooms had roofs; instead, clean white pillars dominated the landscape, strongly resembling ancient Greek architectural ruins.

When passing under a patch of starry sky, she paused.

The sun hadn’t completely set yet—where were these stars coming from?

“This is the star plate,” Jing Ran explained.

Xiang Haikui remembered now—it was like the Destiny Brush in Yin Changli’s possession.

Though it appeared unremarkable, both she and her father had once been mere small pieces on this vast star plate.

Used by Yin Changli as chips in his game with Han Qi.

She gazed upward, lost in thought. Jing Ran reflected: “No need to lament; I was once on this board as well.”

Xiang Haikui nodded: “And one ignored by everyone.”

Originally thought to be a bronze player, who would have expected him to be a king?

Jing Ran walked beside her with his hands behind his back: “Not by everyone. At least you never ignored me.”

Xiang Haikui didn’t respond to his words and continued walking.

Not far ahead, the view opened up. The so-called backyard was a large forest with trees of all varieties, strange and wonderful.

“That tree is the well.” As Jing Ran pointed out, a streak of light landed on a distant tree resembling a ginkgo.

Its bark was mottled and covered with holes.

Xiang Haikui’s divine sense entered through a hole into the interior. Indeed, it was hollow, dropping down to the roots where all was pitch black, like a bottomless pit impossible to explore further.

Consistent with her boss’s description of the “well,” it was real.

She stepped forward, but Jing Ran extended his hand to block her.

Xiang Haikui immediately retreated, backing away two steps as if avoiding a plague, mentally marking the location.

After leaving the Star-Plucking Palace, they headed toward Jing Ran’s actual destination for bringing her out of the palace today.

Upon arrival, Xiang Haikui glanced at the plaque above, which bore the character “Meng.”

She was momentarily stunned: “Xiang Tianqing’s home?”

“Yes, and also the home of your old enemies, the brothers Meng Xilou and Meng Nanting.” Jing Ran gazed at the plaque simultaneously. “In terms of divine sense, the Meng family ranks among the first tier of the Heavenly Race. If I hadn’t caught them red-handed, with suspicions of harming me, I wouldn’t have had reason to deal with them casually over such a minor matter.”

“Yes, a minor matter.” Xiang Haikui nodded repeatedly, sneering. “My life, my father’s life, and the lives of dozens of cities, including Yin Sha—all just minor matters.”

“You may be unhappy, but it can’t be helped—it truly was a small matter. Only after you stood by my side did it become a significant issue for the Meng family.” Jing Ran alighted from the carriage and extended his hand toward her.

Xiang Haikui directly jumped out through the window.

The Meng family’s main gate was already wide open, with many people kneeling both inside and outside.

Jing Ran led her forward: “I once told you that I greatly admired Meng Nanting, which is why I helped him.”

Xiang Haikui needed to recall the details. At that time, Meng Nanting had planned to devour Lu Xiqiao and seize his Dao Merger Fruit body.

She had rushed to the Lu family to save him, accompanied by Han Qi, and Yin Changli had also appeared unexpectedly. Meng Nanting was almost certainly doomed.

But the newly awakened Jing Ran had used his divine sense to warn Meng Nanting, who immediately abandoned his attempt and fled back to the upper realm.

Xiang Haikui agreed: “Meng Nanting’s convoluted mind is indeed far superior to Meng Xilou’s.”

Compared to him, Meng Xilou was a stubborn fool.

“Di Jun!” The two people kneeling in the center of the courtyard were the Meng family head and Meng Nanting.

The Meng family head appeared composed, slightly lowering his head to show respect without displaying excessive fear.

Meng Nanting, however, couldn’t suppress his terror.

Previously, Han Qi had told him that Di Jun somewhat admired him and wouldn’t trouble him too much.

But when news from Beyond City arrived that Di Jun greatly favored Xiang Haikui, he feared pillow talk might lead to his demise.

Unexpectedly, the two later had a falling out, and she severely injured Di Jun.

Just as Meng Nanting was feeling relieved that his life might be spared, his father slapped him back to his senses.

Relief?

This crazy woman had even cut down Di Jun himself—sooner or later, she would come to the upper realm to cut down their Meng family.

Why had they formulated the plan to drive Xiang Heng mad in the first place?

Why had they believed that drowning Xiang Haikui in a bath would be as simple as crushing an ant?

Had they been possessed?

Xiang Haikui followed Jing Ran across the threshold, entering the courtyard and approaching the father and son of the Meng family.

She examined the two kneeling before her—Xiang Tianqing’s father and half-brother.

After a moment, she removed the carved sword case from her back and set it before her with a “clang,” resting her crossed hands on top, using it as a walking stick.

Tian Kuang was a heavy sword, growing heavier as it accumulated wild intent.

Since reaching its maximum level, Xiang Haikui had always handled it gently, lest it damage the floor when set down.

Moreover, it now contained numerous array disks and treasures, making it as heavy as a mountain.

The fine jade bricks paving the Meng family courtyard developed spider-web cracks.

This impact diminished some of the Meng family’s composure, making his eyelid twitch heavily.

Not to mention the other members of the Meng family.

Though she and Di Jun were now in opposition, based on the previous battle at Beyond City, if this wild sword cultivator truly wanted to turn the Meng family into a river of blood, whether Di Jun could stop her and whether the Meng family could withstand it were both questionable.

The Tian Kuang sword case stood directly in front of Meng Nanting’s face. The jade brick beneath his knees shattered immediately, causing him to stagger sideways as he anxiously lifted his head slightly.

Xiang Haikui observed his fear and that of the entire Meng family: “Are they afraid of me?”

She had thought they feared Jing Ran.

“They fear you,” Jing Ran nodded slightly. “Though they don’t know your strength, they have a reference point.”

The reference point was naturally Jing Ran himself.

“You’ve demonized me too much, haven’t you?” Xiang Haikui was surprised.

She had known she’d become famous after one battle, but what was with these servants, guards, and maids? Did they think she would slaughter the entire Meng family for revenge?

She reassured several small maids who were nearly frightened into fainting: “Don’t be afraid. I seek vengeance against those directly responsible, not innocent bystanders. I don’t have a habit of killing indiscriminately, and I’m not that powerful…”

“No need for false modesty. No one understands your strength better than this Lord. If this Lord didn’t stop you, you can raze the Meng estate to the ground.” Jing Ran spoke coolly. “Even if This Lord intervened, of these father and son, you could certainly cripple one.”

Receiving confirmation directly from Di Jun’s mouth, the Meng household turned as pale as vegetables.

The few small maids Xiang Haikui had tried to comfort rolled their eyes and fainted completely.

Xiang Haikui also wanted to roll her eyes—wasn’t this what people called the wheel of fortune turning?

Once, the “Upper Realm Meng Family” had been her nightmare; now she had become the great demon king in the “Upper Realm Meng Family’s” hearts.

Jing Ran continued: “What’s rather unfortunate is that Meng Xilou isn’t in the royal city. After the defeat at Yin Sha, you severed Meng Xilou’s avatar, causing his true form to suffer severe injuries. He has been in seclusion for more than ten years now. I wonder if the Meng family head truly can’t find him or is deceiving This Lord.”

The Meng family head hastily explained: “Di Jun’s discernment is clear. That unfilial son of mine, after returning from the lower realm, was indeed beaten to within an inch of his life and entered life-or-death seclusion. According to our customs, generally only the person themselves knows the location of their seclusion…”

They should have known then that Xiang Haikui was no easy target and should have been cautious and withdrawn.

Mainly, they had invested too much in accumulating merit for Xiang Tianqing and were reluctant to give up.

Meng Xilou’s willingness to scheme for his full-blooded sister certainly involved emotional bonds, but for the Meng family head, mobilizing forces and spending vast sums for a daughter was entirely due to Xiang Tianqing’s divine sense.

Though timid by nature since childhood, her divine sense was very pure.

Additionally, her age was appropriate. When Di Jun needed to establish his lineage in the future, Xiang Tianqing would have a chance.

Who would have thought that man’s calculations couldn’t match heaven’s will? Not only did the plan fail, but it also attracted a deadly star.

Regret was useless now. The father and son had already discussed Di Jun’s purpose in bringing Xiang Haikui here today.

Two days remained, and Di Jun wanted to turn defense into offense.

Their wager stipulated that before sunset three days later, Xiang Haikui couldn’t draw her sword, or else she would have to hand over the array disks.

Di Jun brought her to the Meng family to remind her of the persecution she had suffered at their hands.

She was Qi Yin’s disciple—nicely put, a wild sword cultivator, but essentially a madwoman.

They didn’t believe she could still restrain herself.

Di Jun was using them as a testing stone, trying to use the lives of the Meng family to pry open the sword in Xiang Haikui’s hand.