When she shot that spirit arrow, the first person Xie Jingci thought of was Pei Du.
In truth, the chance of someone arriving in time was very slim.
Although the Langya Secret Realm wasn't large, the place she was in was extremely remote. If one was careless, that arrow shot into the sky could easily go unnoticed.
Even if someone caught a glimpse of that flash of light, they might not necessarily set off immediately. There were many reasons for firing a spirit arrow—being delayed by matters, encountering a powerful enemy on the road, or finding a rare treasure. Most of these were not life-or-death situations, and besides, Langya had sparse spiritual energy and was only populated by insignificant little monsters.
But somehow, when she shot that arrow, Xie Jingci immediately thought of Pei Du.
Even without knowing who shot the arrow or what situation they were facing, given his nature, he would undoubtedly go to investigate without hesitation.
Though not skilled with words or given to boasting, a righteous spirit was carved into his very bones.
The Memory Spirit, struck by sword energy, swiftly retreated and let out another deafening roar. The thousands of human faces covering its body began to wail in unison, every one of them twisted in agony and torment.
Pei Du wiped the blood from the corner of Xie Jingci's mouth, placed a pill into her mouth, and used Zhan Yuan to block the increasingly heavy oppressive force. "Is that your spiritual consciousness?"
The splitting pain from her sea of consciousness had not yet subsided. Xie Jingci lacked the strength to speak and could only give a slight nod.
Reality wasn't like the stories in books that allowed two people to open their hearts and talk endlessly in the midst of a decisive battle. The Memory Spirit was determined to eliminate them and naturally wouldn't leave any time for catching up.
Before the sword energy had even landed, the monster's roars surged forth overwhelmingly. With no time for more words, Pei Du carefully leaned her against an ancient tree. Zhan Yuan, glowing pure white, gave a sudden, fierce tremble.
Yet his killing intent halted mid-course.
There, in the center of that massive, pitch-black entity, wrapped within numerous tendrils... was a faint, yellowish glow.
The Memory Spirit was exceptionally cruel and cunning. If Pei Du attacked, it would inevitably use that wisp of spiritual consciousness as leverage to torment Xie Jingci doubly, just to constrain his movements.
That was her weakness.
If even ten fingers were connected to the heart, how much more so the fragile spiritual consciousness within one's sea of consciousness? He had rushed over upon seeing the spirit arrow, and the first thing he saw was the light cluster being tightly grasped, and Miss Xie coughing up a mouthful of blood.
That sight alone had already made Pei Du's eyes turn red in an instant. If, because of his actions, Miss Xie were to endure even more pain—
The youth's gaze grew colder, the knuckles of his clenched hand turning pale.
"I'm fine."
Xie Jingci circulated her spiritual energy throughout her body, trying to gather her scattered strength. Though her voice was weak, it was firm and brooked no argument. "I am, after all, a cultivator."
As a cultivator, if one were cowardly and afraid of death, instinctively retreating because of a little bit of pain, that would be utterly unworthy.
Besides their relationship as fiancés, the two of them were also well-matched rivals. Believing she could endure this was the respect Pei Du gave her as a cultivator.
Zhan Yuan's sword light flashed coldly.
Sensing the intensifying sword intent from him, the Memory Spirit suddenly swayed and, true to form, pressed down forcefully on the light cluster again.
Miss Xie didn't make a sound.
As a blade cultivator, she was strong and exceptional enough that she would never retreat because of momentary pain. Pei Du's index finger trembled slightly, and a frosty aura gathered between his brows.
Not long ago, the sun had been bright and clear. In mere moments, icy winds began to sweep in. Leaves, struck by the cold, fell, scattering a forest full of frost blossoms.
The Memory Spirit had intended to continue applying pressure, but upon catching sight of the cold glint, it couldn't help but jolt to a sudden halt—
It was too fast.
The sword energy was like a sudden storm, swift and difficult to discern, each strike without any discernible pattern, clearly aiming to kill it outright. In such a situation, how could it still spare the effort to damage that wisp of spiritual consciousness? The slightest distraction would mean certain death.
The intense pain lingered. Xie Jingci gazed at the layers of sword energy in the forest and took a soft breath.
She could sense that Pei Du was angry.
Whether it was being falsely accused by Pei Yu before, or battling evil demons at the Guiyuan Immortal Manor, he had never displayed such killing intent as he did now.
Sword cultivators inherently valued decisiveness in slaughter. Pei Du was usually gentle and quiet, not showing much of a fierce or ruthless aura.
But now, with his sword drawn, a cold radiance suddenly birthed a desolate chill. The murderous sword intent actually condensed into tangible forms. With just a backhanded slash, layers of frost gathered across the sky, then exploded outward from him like sharp swords.
If the Memory Spirit wanted to act against Miss Xie, the only way for him to stop it was to leave it not a single opening to exploit.
Zhan Yuan's sharp edge was fully revealed, illuminating the youth's exquisite features and also highlighting a smear of crimson red at the corner of his eye. Pei Du dodged the numerous tendrils, swung his sword in a sideways slash, and instantly, sword light surged forth like a dragon—
But the Memory Spirit did not dodge.
Xie Jingci's heart lurched, and she instinctively called out, "Pei Du, be careful!"
But it was already too late.
The bizarre and terrifying monster shuddered, trembling incessantly as it forcibly took Pei Du's strike, then ink-black energy overflowed in all directions.
Like a flower bud slowly unfurling its petals, the Memory Spirit's body split open from the middle, extending gradually to both sides.
To describe it more accurately, it was like a mouth slowly opening.
Even though she had lost her memories, she could guess at a glance that this was the precursor to the Memory Spirit devouring spiritual consciousness.
Attacks on spiritual consciousness were formless, treacherous, and unpredictable; ordinary people could find no way to defend against them.
The black mist rising into the air was turbid and murky. Pei Du tried to raise his sword to block it, but only saw the Memory Spirit tremble as if chuckling. The next moment, the black mist spread out, passed straight through the sword energy, and arrived by his side.
This was a situation she hadn't anticipated.
Xie Jingci's heart leapt to her throat. Without time to think too much, she was about to grit her teeth against the pain, draw her blade, and rush forward. But when she glanced at Pei Du again, she saw an even more unbelievable scene.
The black mist came with overwhelming force, clearly intending to envelop him completely. Yet, the moment it touched Pei Du's body, it was violently repelled as if by some force.
What was going on?
The Memory Spirit's technique... had no effect on Pei Du?
Pei Du was also slightly stunned. Perhaps to answer this confusion, a voice, neither distinctly male nor female, echoed in the vast emptiness of his sea of consciousness.
[With me standing guard here, you still want to steal your spiritual consciousness? Do you think us Heavenly Dao spokespersons eat for free?]
The system snorted with laughter twice, its tone rising: [I can't stand shameless thieves like this the most. Xiao Pei, beat it up!]
Its sure-kill move had missed completely, utterly ineffective, like scratching an itch for him. Now it was the Memory Spirit's turn to be dumbfounded.
And there was more confusion to come.
It had gathered all the spiritual energy in its body, wanting only to drain the young sword cultivator's memories and turn him into a clueless fool. Yet not only was he completely unaffected, his killing intent grew even stronger as he raised his sword and charged straight at it.
...Just what kind of plot development was this?!
It couldn't win in a direct clash, and devouring memories didn't work either. With no way out, it could only resist with all its might while frantically searching through the memories within its body. After a moment, its body split open from the center once more.
What suddenly emerged from within the Memory Spirit was a light cluster quite similar to Xie Jingci's spiritual consciousness.
The only difference was that it was pitch black throughout, appearing turbid like filthy water.
This was its final method of survival.
The light cluster was flung out without hesitation, piercing through the cascading sword glows and exploding beside Pei Du.
[This is...]
The system clicked its tongue coldly: [It wants to force other people's painful memories into you.]
If it couldn't steal them, then it would force them in.
Pure spiritual consciousness is beneficial for cultivation advancement, but turbid, chaotic consciousness like this only causes mental confusion and immense suffering.
Although the system could offer him protection within his sea of consciousness, once the spiritual consciousness exploded, it could corrode the entire body through the bloodline. Even as the proxy of the Heavenly Dao, it couldn't intervene much.
It spoke with some concern: [You... are you alright? Can you hold on?]
Pei Du gave no reply.
Excruciating pain swept through his entire body, leaving him with no strength to respond.
The Memory Spirit was too panicked, having long since tossed aside Xie Jingci's spiritual consciousness to focus all its attention on assaulting him.
One turbid light cluster after another burst open. The speed of the youth's sword strokes was no longer as fluid and effortless as at the beginning.
Wave after wave of agonizing memories flooded into his sea of consciousness, like sharp blades wantonly slicing through it.
Memories of having one's entire clan slaughtered, of being trampled underfoot by a sworn enemy, of being pierced through the heart by a beloved's arrow... The moment these memories surfaced, the body would feel the immersive, searing pain as well.
But Pei Du's movements did not stop.
This was a madman.
The monster that had run rampant for centuries felt a chill run through its entire body for the first time.
A sword's frosty aura arose, sweeping through the remnant wind and treading over snow.
Due to those clusters of spiritual consciousness, a fierce aura brewed between the youth's brows, his phoenix eyes brimming with crimson. He must have been in excruciating pain, yet his movements grew faster and faster, advancing toward it without hesitation. Zhan Yuan flashed, closer, another flash!
It was an unstoppable killing intent, and also the determination to press forward even against ten thousand.
And it had already been forced into a corner, with nowhere left to hide.
In the instant the cold light suddenly rose, a frost flower fell from a branch, landing on the youth's tall, straight nose bridge.
Pei Du looked at it quietly, not wildly arrogant like most sword cultivators. Instead, his long lashes fluttered slightly, cold as mountain stream ice and snow, as he spoke in a low voice: "Return the spiritual consciousness—"
A swift wind rose, Zhan Yuan fell.
The Memory Spirit heard a clear, clean youthful voice: "To her."
The long sword pierced through the monster's massive body. A sharp, mournful wail echoed through the vast, dense forest.
Clusters of frost flowers fell all over the ground. A ball of bright yellow light rose from mid-air, soaring upward, piercing through the thick, dark smoke and dust.
Then a second cluster, a third.
Thousands of light clusters, like summer fireflies, silently rose and spread. In mere moments, they coalesced into a brilliance that could rival the sunlight, converging into a cascading, upside-down Milky Way.
Countless emotions forgotten for many years gradually returned at this moment.
In a remote, seldom-visited corner of the Langya Secret Realm, a shivering boy curled into a ball.
A woman in black had been following him all along, like a shadow. He didn't dare look at her, using one exorcism talisman after another, all to no avail. In his desperation, he could only hold his head and shout: "Stop following me, go away! How long are you going to haunt me until—"
Before he could finish, he suddenly froze.
His body trembled even more violently than before. The boy looked up in near panic, but the spot where the woman had been standing was now empty.
...No.
In that secluded, lightless corner lay a pure white flower. He had never seen it before, yet in that instant, he knew its name.
It was called a Jade Lily-of-the-Valley.
"The Langya Secret Realm has opened. Your mother never returned... I'm afraid she's already..."
In the gradually clearing memory, someone sighed and told him: "It was to save you, but the Jade Lily-of-the-Valley is no ordinary thing... Please accept our condolences."
So the reason he came to the Langya Secret Realm wasn't to find this flower, but for someone who could no longer appear.
And when he met that person, he remembered nothing.
The boy stood dazedly in place, murmuring in a trance: "...Mother?"
The corner was utterly quiet. Apart from the wind, there was no response.
In a distant, little-known small village, among desolate grave mounds, a wisp of breeze brushed past.
"Where did this wind come from? It smells so fragrant."
Someone looked up curiously, showing surprise: "In this godforsaken place, where did these gardenia petals come from? Look, they're falling down—whose grave is this?"
"Must be a grave from several hundred years ago."
Her companion was uninterested, glancing down: "This one seems to have been a quite famous female physician, the one who founded the Wanmin Hall. Have you heard of her?"
"Oh! I heard she never married, saying she was waiting for someone. But when asked who, she couldn't say."
The woman smiled as she spoke: "Could it be that the unnamed person's spirit has returned, sending flowers to their beloved?"
Her companion responded with a scornful snort: "Nonsense. Talking about ghost stories in broad daylight?"
Meanwhile, in the dense forest where sword aura had yet to dissipate, the young sword cultivator sheathed his sword and walked to the side of a glowing halo. After wiping the blood from his hands, he carefully cradled it in his palms.
Silent, covered in frost and crimson, he broke through the cold sword aura and walked step by step toward the girl not far away.
With this battle concluded, both were in a sorry state. Xie Jingci first fed him a Spirit-Gathering Pill. Only after wiping the blood from Pei Du's face did she finally utter a word of thanks, reaching out to touch the light cluster.
In an instant, the scene before her eyes changed abruptly.
[This is her spiritual consciousness.]
The system looked around: [Your sea of consciousness suffered so many intrusions, it's already full of holes. Once her spiritual consciousness opened, it was only natural to be affected. This memory—Hey!]
Not just it, but the moment Pei Du and Xie Jingci saw the scene clearly, they were also stunned.
The sense of crisis from the life-and-death struggle hadn't faded yet, but Xie Jingci already felt her ears burning, wishing she could find a place to hide.
From Pei Du's descent into darkness and demonic cultivation, to him making a deal with the Heavenly Dao, leading to two completely different parallel worlds, most of the logic was traceable.
The unexpected variable existed in only one place—
Upon awakening from the long, pitch-dark slumber, why was the first thing Xie Jingci did to go to the Ghost Tomb, seeking out Pei Du, who had already lost all his cultivation and become a target for all?
This was a development no one could have anticipated, the direct source leading to the split between the two worlds.
Something in her heart was struggling fiercely to break free.
A crack appeared on the ice surface, then grew larger and larger, more and more, spreading like a spiderweb, spiraling out of control.
Layer upon layer of ice shattered.
Xie Jingci thought, it seemed... she finally knew the answer.
That wooden slip she kept in her storage pouch had actually given an omen a long time ago.
The memory slowly unfolded. The first scene that appeared before her eyes was actually her first meeting with Pei Du at the academy.
Back then, she and Meng Xiaoting were in a hurry. After a brief exchange of greetings, they bid farewell. Not knowing how long they had walked, the still-young Xie Jingci suddenly looked back.
Meng Xiaoting noticed this action and raised an eyebrow: "Hey—why are you looking back? Wanting to see that young master from just now?"
This remark only earned her a glare.
"That's the young master of the Pei family, right? I heard he's a child adopted by Pei Fengnan, born with a natural sword bone, incredibly talented."
Her smile grew increasingly bright, her tone taking on a playful note: "He's truly beautiful. A gentle, cool, and exquisitely handsome young sword cultivator—just thinking about it is thrilling. So this is the type Cici likes. I understand."
Beyond the memory, Xie Jingci's heart was pounding wildly.
She could sense that Pei Du beside her had gone completely rigid, his aura in disarray.
He had always believed she didn't remember the strange boy she had saved back then. From their first meeting until a decade later, it had always been a solitary journey of his own silent devotion.
But what if… Xie Jingci had never forgotten?
Deep within the academy, the girl turned to look back once more: "I think… I've seen him before."
