He had expected Chong Zhao to defeat Zhe Sang once more, but the situation had reversed so suddenly. Chong Zhao was overwhelmed by just one strike from Zhe Sang, and the disciples watching below fell into stunned silence.
With a dark, ominous expression, Zhe Sang slowly approached Chong Zhao, who was still kneeling on the ground.
"Junior Brother, I wasn’t using my full strength earlier. Did you really think you could defeat me this time? If you bow down and admit defeat, repenting for our previous fight, I’ll let bygones be bygones and allow you to remain as an outer disciple for the sake of our shared sect."
"I already repaid the debt of that battle," Chong Zhao replied, lifting his gaze with fierce resolve. "Senior Brother, I haven’t lost yet."
"Seeking death!" Zhe Sang’s face twisted with anger at Chong Zhao’s defiance. He raised his sword once more, and this time, his strike was even more powerful than the last.
"No, Senior Brother, don’t!" Er Yun cried out from the stone steps, her face filled with dread.
Meanwhile, in the Mysterious Ice Cave, Fan Yue, who had been unconscious for two days, finally awoke in confusion. Bai Shuo, still in his arms, lay with her eyes closed.
"Master…" Fan Yue murmured, calling out to Bai Shuo. Though his mind was still foggy, and he was once again a bewildered young man, Bai Shuo’s blood had briefly restored his clarity and strength.
Bai Shuo lay curled up in Fan Yue’s embrace, entirely unaware. Her cheeks were rosy, a faint smile gracing her lips, but her breaths were shallow.
Although Fu Ling had left, the "Eternal Drunken Dream" spell on Bai Shuo had not been lifted. She had been trapped in the illusion for two days, and if she didn’t wake soon, she would exhaust her spiritual energy and perish.
Though Fan Yue didn’t understand what was happening, he could sense that Bai Shuo’s spiritual energy was dangerously weak. He vaguely sensed that if he didn’t awaken her, she would be lost forever.
"Wake… up…" he said, struggling with each word, his tone full of desperation and confusion.
Fan Yue’s world had become so simple, revolving entirely around Bai Shuo. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.
He didn’t know what else to do, so he held her tightly, calling out to her with all the strength he had.
In the illusion, Bai Shuo sat with her chin propped up, staring at a figure.
The man wore a long purple robe, his hair casually tied, leaning lazily against a bookshelf as he flipped through a book. A small wine gourd was fastened to his waist.
Bai Shuo sat quietly at a wooden table nearby, staring intently at his back.
They were in a library, and outside was a grand hall. She had never seen such a splendid, opulent building. Ever since she’d awoken from the bone-chilling cold, she had been in this place. She had tried to leave the hall, but the place seemed enclosed by a barrier. Every time she approached the door, she would find herself back behind the man.
She knew who this figure was. She had searched for him for ten years. She couldn’t remember his face or call his name, but she knew he was the one who had saved her in the imperial mausoleum in the capital a decade ago.
When she first saw this figure, Bai Shuo was overjoyed, thinking that perhaps the heavens had heard her prayers and brought her to him. But soon, she learned what it meant to have one’s hopes dashed.
Not only could she not leave this strange place, but she couldn’t reach him, and he couldn’t see or hear her.
Could it be that I’m dead? That the heavens, feeling guilty, have finally granted my wish?
Bai Shuo was a naturally cheerful person, but with her limited understanding, she couldn’t comprehend the nature of this strange, ghostly place. Fortunately, her longing of ten years kept her spirits up, and she followed this shadow diligently for two days.
This man did little other than sleep and drink, leading a carefree life.
To stay here, in this isolated place with him, wasn’t so bad, Bai Shuo thought, resting her chin on her hand. She began to feel drowsy.
Slowly, Bai Shuo closed her eyes, unaware that her body was fading and the hall around her was beginning to collapse.
What she didn’t realize was that she was trapped in the "Eternal Drunken Dream." This was merely her own illusion; because she couldn’t remember his face, she would never see his features clearly or reach him.
"Master!" a panicked voice echoed in her ear, and Bai Shuo’s eyes snapped open, just as she was about to drift into complete slumber.
Who was that?
"Wake… up… please…" the voice pleaded.
Wake up? For what?
"Please… I beg you…"
Beg me? Why would anyone beg me? I’m just a humble half-immortal adrift in the Three Realms. Who would be desperate enough to plead with me?
Bai Shuo’s face was filled with confusion. Suddenly, she looked up and saw the entire hall collapsing, the debris about to crush her. Her pupils shrank in fear as she tried to dodge, but her body wouldn’t move.
Why couldn’t she move? Was she cursed? What kind of cursed place was this?!
"Bai Shuo! Wake up!"
At last, the boy’s voice reached her in a single, desperate, hoarse shout, shaking her spirit. Bai Shuo’s eyes flew open, fully awake.
0 Comments