Warm winds stirred as the mortal realm entered the scorching season.
Time always passed more quickly in the lower realm than in the heavens. Si Ming remembered that according to the Book of Fate, Er Sheng would have turned eighteen in the seventh month. Now, having taken on a new identity, she had lived through those eighteen years in her way.
As she stepped over a small hill, her vision suddenly broadened. Before her stretched waves of soft white cotton flowers, swaying in ripples under the wind’s pressure. Si Ming’s thoughts drifted with the warm breeze outlined by the cotton flowers, meandering toward the place where Er Sheng’s bones lay unburied.
She followed her instincts, each step bringing a tremor to her heart. Those written words suddenly seemed to come alive, transforming into vivid scenes that invaded her mind—the metallic scent of blood, rampaging killing intent, despair spreading through her heart, and finally, just a man’s hoarse, desolate whisper:
“Er Sheng…”
The voice was so soft it seemed like he might have been crying. So helpless.
Si Ming’s heart twinged. She knew that the moment when Chang Yuan thrust his sword into Er Sheng’s body, he was perhaps more frightened than anyone. He was reluctant, sorrowful, and even helpless, but all his emotions couldn’t match Er Sheng’s single expression of pain.
He had loved her so deeply, silently choosing to bury all his feelings.
Si Ming halted her steps, her white gauze robes dancing with the cotton flowers in the warm wind. A black sword was thrust deep into the earth ahead, and beside it lay a skeleton, quietly resting on the ground. In the height of summer, the flesh had almost completely rotted away, with blood-stained cotton clothes clinging to the white bones, sending a chill through one’s heart.
Beauty to bones. Nothing in this world was more merciless than time.
Si Ming removed the white flower from her temple, waving her hand to send it floating toward Er Sheng with divine power. She laughed softly: “Visiting my own grave—I must be the first person in the world to do this.” Before her words faded, the white flower she had sent was suddenly intercepted by a sharp energy, sliced to pieces, and scattered into dust in the air.
Si Ming’s heart jolted, and her gaze fell on the Lin Sword standing nearby.
“I’ll stay with you.”
She seemed to hear Chang Yuan whispering in her ear—no flowery words, even his tone was plain, but it was a stubborn promise. Even now, he still protected these bones with his dragon scales.
In that instant, Si Ming’s heart was moved by this man whose face she couldn’t even clearly remember.
She stood there foolishly, staring at the lonely sword and skeleton for a while, as if watching a couple separated by life and death, gazing at each other from afar with bone-deep yearning. Her heart was too heavy with sorrow to raise her hand and break this tranquility. She thought, that if Er Sheng hadn’t been Si Ming, if she had truly died then, Chang Yuan would likely have accompanied her forever. Unfortunately, Er Sheng had become Si Ming, and Chang Yuan had nowhere to accompany her to. Yet, fortunately, Er Sheng had become Si Ming…
She steeled her heart and stepped toward the Lin Sword.
She had to break this scene because, in this world, many things required destruction before reconstruction.
As expected, the remaining dragon energy in the Lin Sword surged forth, attempting to force Si Ming back. The powerful pressure both surprised and moved her deeply. If one didn’t care to the extreme, why would one fight so desperately just to protect rotting flesh and white bones?
Si Ming gritted her teeth and forcefully leaped forward, gripping the sword handle. The blade immediately trembled violently. With a low shout, she used all her strength to suppress its resistance.
After just a brief struggle, Si Ming was already drenched in sweat. Though the Lin Sword had been forcibly subdued, it still hummed in her hand, seeming to roar in warning. Being so rejected by the sword made Si Ming feel somewhat wronged. She looked around, found a large rock, and began banging the Lin Sword against it, saying: “You brainless thing, only recognizing external appearances, unable to appreciate this divine lord’s inner cultivation. You’re just as stupid as I was in my mortal life.”
While cursing “idiot” under her breath, she showed no mercy with her hands. The spiritual sword rang out continuously under her strikes. Finally, after she had vented her anger and the stone had been reduced to powder, the Lin Sword seemed to have been frightened into submission, quietly allowing her to hold it without further resistance.
She turned and walked back to ‘Er Sheng’s’ side. After silently watching for a while, she crouched down and pulled up the right sleeve. A string of silver bells still remained on the arm bone. Si Ming’s heart leaped with joy as she reached to take them, not wanting to damage Er Sheng’s remains, but without flesh connecting them, the bones scattered at the lightest touch.
The Lin Sword trembled in her hand. Si Ming stroked its handle and said: “Be good, don’t be afraid. Big sister is here.”
She removed the silver bells from ‘Er Sheng’s’ wrist, made a hand seal, and all the dust fell away from the bells. She carefully tucked them close to her body. Then she took a piece of ‘Er Sheng’s’ little finger bone, threaded it with one of her hairs, and hung it on the Lin Sword.
Si Ming stroked the sword handle and said: “I give you something to remember by. From today forward, there will be neither Er Sheng nor Si Ming in this world.”
After speaking these profound words, Si Ming rubbed her chin thoughtfully: “Hmm, in that case, should I change my name? Er Si… Ear Wax?” She pursed her lips, looked at ‘Er Sheng’s’ white bones for a while, then smiled, “Never mind, whatever I’m called, I am simply me.”
When Si Ming returned to the heavenly realm, it was already evening, and the two immortal maidens Zhao Yun and Wan Xia had just left the Qin Tian Palace.
The orchid sat on the windowsill, mischievously making a little doll wrapped in cloud brocade with “Si Ming” written on it, happily stabbing it with needles. Suddenly hearing a creak, Si Ming pushed open the door and stood outside, watching her with amusement. The orchid’s face changed as she remembered the threat of “feeding pigs,” and she immediately became flustered. She hurriedly tried to hide the doll in her sleeve but accidentally cut her hand, blood slowly seeping out. She made a pitiful face, looking extremely uncomfortable.
Si Ming walked over and stroked her face: “Don’t make such a pathetic expression with my face.”
The orchid steeled herself, threw the doll to the ground, and cried: “Punish me as you like! I have an evil master who forces good people into degradation, life isn’t worth living! Waaah… don’t make me feed the pigs…”
Si Ming gave her head a hard smack: “Have some dignity! Give me your hand.”
The scolded girl immediately extended her hand obediently, looking dejected as if waiting for a beating. But while she waited with closed eyes, she suddenly felt a cool breeze on her palm. She opened her eyes to see Si Ming channeling divine power into her wound. Soon, the injury had completely healed, leaving her hand white and tender again.
The orchid stared blankly for a while, then pouted: “It was just a small wound, I’m not that precious, hmph.”
Si Ming said quietly: “Everything that belongs to me is precious. If even you don’t think you deserve to be cherished, then truly no one will cherish you.”
After a long silence, the orchid asked: “Master… does Master care about me?”
“I’ve raised you for so long, of course, I like you.” Si Ming paused, thoughts drifting somewhere as she lowered her gaze, “If you like something, naturally you’ll care about it.”
The orchid’s face reddened slightly. She twisted her fingers nervously and said: “Then… then if Orchid does something bad, Master cares too much to punish me harshly, right? You won’t make me feed the pigs?”
Si Ming narrowed her eyes meaningfully: “What did you do?”
“Well, you saw that needle-stabbed doll, right?”
Si Ming replied indifferently: “Those things do not affect me.”
“I mean, the fabric wrapping the doll was cut from your wedding clothes. The two immortal maidens worked so carefully, the cloud brocade was woven so fine and soft…”
“Go feed the pigs!”
In the end, Si Ming didn’t punish the orchid, because she knew that no matter how beautifully the wedding clothes were made, she would never wear them. She just felt sorry for Zhao Yun and Wan Xia.
Before sleeping, Si Ming placed the Lin Sword beside her. Its presence, both strange and familiar, surrounded her, finally allowing her to sleep peacefully.
That night she dreamed of Chang Yuan in the Void of Ten Thousand Heavens, where his divine power was suppressed and he couldn’t even take human form—just a long black dragon. He curled his massive dragon body, burying his head in his scales, neither opening his eyes nor moving, as still as death, floating lonely in endless darkness and desolation.
Such loneliness he had endured for ten thousand years.
“I will save you,” Si Ming said. “I will bring you out.”
The black dragon couldn’t hear her words and maintained the same posture as if only an empty shell remained.
The next morning, when Si Ming woke up, her pillow was slightly damp. She pretended not to notice, folded her blanket, carefully hid the Lin Sword, and went to the outer chamber. The two immortal maidens Zhao Yun and Wan Xia were already there, holding the cloud brocade wedding clothes with a large hole, nearly crying with distress. Seeing Si Ming, they hurriedly came forward to ask: “Divine Lord, what… what happened?”
Si Ming said seriously: “Perhaps it was gnawed by rats.”
Zhao Yun said angrily: “Such brazen vermin! How dare they be so presumptuous! Even daring to touch the Heavenly Empress’s wedding clothes!”
Si Ming graciously consoled them: “Let it be, let it be, no need to quibble with beasts.” She glanced into the inner chamber, where the orchid swayed happily in the wind on the windowsill.
Seeing that the principal party wasn’t concerned, the two immortal maidens couldn’t say more. They could only think of ways to remedy the situation. However, the damaged area was already part of the finished garment, in the hip area—a very intimate place. The two maidens were conscientious people, so they had Si Ming remove the clothes to take new measurements for making another piece.
As the damaged garment covered Si Ming’s hips, Wan Xia, who was measuring, suddenly paused: “Divine Lord, you were wounded here before?”
Si Ming turned her head to look. Wan Xia held up a small bronze mirror, and indeed there was a red scar slightly above her hip. Si Ming herself was stunned for a moment. After attaining divine form, she served as Star Lord Si Ming, a scholarly position, rarely engaging in fights or brawls. She’d had no opportunity to be wounded, and even if she had been injured, with her divine power she would never have let such a large scar remain without her knowledge…
Could it be related to her lost memories, after her drunkenness but before becoming Er Sheng?
How many of her memories had that bastard Heavenly Emperor erased?
Si Ming felt some anger. Her thoughts turned, and she looked at Zhao Yun and Wan Xia: “You know the Emperor’s temper isn’t very good, this scar…”
Before she finished, her meaning was clear, and the two immortal maidens’ faces immediately paled with fear. Si Ming covered her face in apparent grief. She believed that by tomorrow, news of the Heavenly Emperor’s cruelty would spread throughout the heavenly court. Si Ming thought, even if I know nothing else, I’ll at least smear some filth on you before I go.