ATAVID CH104

Jiang Qunyu actually had barely any strength left toward the end. He had originally thought he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, but as it turned out, when a person becomes exhausted to a certain degree, they can sleep soundly regardless of the circumstances.

Thus, even though he could still clearly feel Wei Xun pressing and nudging against him time and time again, Jiang Qunyu no longer had the energy to care.

He slept heavily that night, even drifting into a dream.

The dream consisted of a hazy, chaotic void. His consciousness floated and sank, faint and blurry, while a voice vaguely echoed by his ear.

It was crisp, light, and gentle, carrying a breeze-like warmth as it fell into his ears.

Jiang Qunyu did not dislike it.

He floated weightlessly within the vast void just like this, unsure of how much time had passed.

At times, the clear, clinking sound of lightly plucked zither strings would drift over; at others, it was accompanied by the gentle, rustling sound of turning book pages—tender and affectionate. His entire body felt lazy and relaxed, deeply coveting this sense of security, completely unwilling to wake up.

After a long time, that gentle voice finally couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, followed by a sigh filled with a touch of helplessness: “If you continue to stubbornly refuse to wake up like this, I fear Wei Xun truly will storm up to the heavens to settle the score with me.”

Lost in the chaos, Jiang Qunyu was entirely unable to discern the speaker’s identity. He could only glimpse a vague, elegant silhouette standing in the void through a sheet of white mist.

With a gentle swoop of his hand, that person gathered Jiang Qunyu’s scattered, drifting soul into his palm, turning it into a brilliant, white, soft little ball.

After a moment of silence, the voice echoed with a hint of contemplative sighing: “I truly did not expect that Wei Xun would actually manage to gather your shattered soul back together piece by piece. However, it is still lacking a bit, not yet whole.”

His tone carried a tinge of sorrow: “Your destiny has been full of twists and turns. You were originally a lonely soul wandering from another world, accidentally stumbling into this mortal realm of cultivation, only to be entangled by fate for so many years.”

He paused, his voice gentle yet carrying the composure of one who commands heavenly destiny as he slowly asked, “Now, I grant you two choices. The first is to send you back to your original world to live out your days in peace, forever free from the entanglements of immortals and demons or the shackles of fate. The second is to send you back to this cultivation world to finish the remainder of your destined path. Which one do you wish to choose?”

Jiang Qunyu listened to him rattle on and on, not hearing it very clearly. Carrying the irritation of someone rudely awakened, he crawled up, extended a pseudopod to rub the white mist ball, and said testily, “Who do you think you are? Do you think you can just send me wherever you want?”

Hearing this, the person paused for a good while before smiling. “Perhaps you may address me as the Heavenly Dao.”

Jiang Qunyu was originally too lazy to bother with him and was about to plop back down to continue sleeping, but upon hearing those words, he abruptly dragged his round white ball form back up. “Huh?! You’re the Heavenly Dao?!”

The Heavenly Dao reached out a finger and poked him. “Yes.”

Being poked caused a small section of the white mist around him to indent slightly, yet Jiang Qunyu wasn’t annoyed in the slightest. Shaking off the mist around his body, he reformed into his round, plump shape.

Tilting his head up toward the hazy silhouette, he asked curiously, “Oh! The Heavenly Dao has always been mysterious, and I could never see your appearance clearly. Is it because of this reason?”

The Heavenly Dao let out a faint, gentle laugh, his voice ethereal and warm: “I possess no concrete facial features, nor do I have a fixed physical form. Sometimes I turn into the wind, sometimes into the clouds. In the eyes of mortals, I possess thousands of appearances, yet I have never had a single appearance. Because karmic encounters differ, whatever appears in someone’s eyes is simply the reflection within their own heart.”

Jiang Qunyu translated it into plain speech for him: “So the colloquial meaning is that you look like whatever people want you to look like.”

“Yes.”

Jiang Qunyu sighed with emotion. “Then I really need to alter my perspective.”

The Heavenly Dao asked, “Why do you say that?”

Jiang Qunyu said in all seriousness, “In my world, in those novels, the Heavenly Dao is always the ultimate main villain. But you don’t look like one.”

“Ha,” the Heavenly Dao curved his lips. “Your words are truly amusing.”

Having been thoroughly awoken by the Heavenly Dao, Jiang Qunyu no longer felt like sleeping. His nose twitched slightly as he vaguely caught a whiff of a crisp, refreshing, cold fragrance radiating from the Heavenly Dao. It felt strangely familiar, as though he had smelled it somewhere before, prompting him to speak up: “Does the Heavenly Dao also need to burn incense?”

The Heavenly Dao replied softly, “There is no need to burn incense. Anyone who ascends to godhood and receives the offerings and blessings of all living beings will naturally have this kind of aura enveloping them. It is not infused by external objects.”

Jiang Qunyu gave an understanding “oh” and fell silent again.

After a brief hush, the Heavenly Dao brought the topic back, asking warmly, “Have you made up your mind regarding the choices I offered just now? Are you willing to return to the modern world, or remain in this cultivation world to walk the path ahead?”

Jiang Qunyu asked him, “You aren’t lying to me, right?”

Without even waiting for the Heavenly Dao to reply, he said, “Let’s go back to the modern world.”

Yet a thread of doubt still lingered in his heart, and he couldn’t resist pressing further: “Since you can promise to send me back to the modern world, then why did you whisper in my ear back then, saying only that you would give me a physical vessel and let me be reborn in this cultivation world?”

The Heavenly Dao shook his head, his tone peaceful: “That promise was not granted by me.”

Jiang Qunyu instantly blanked out, asking blankly, “It wasn’t you who said it?”

“It was not,” the Heavenly Dao explained warmly. “I have been slumbering for countless ages, and it was only a short while ago that I barely managed to wake up.”

Jiang Qunyu murmured, “Alright then.”

In any case, it no longer mattered who had made that promise, as long as he could leave this place right now and return to his own world.

The Heavenly Dao had already raised his hand, intending to guide his soul body out of this chaotic void. Yet at this exact moment, an inexplicable wave of empty sorrow suddenly surged within Jiang Qunyu’s heart. It felt as though a piece of him went missing—he couldn’t bear to let go, nor could he leave it behind.

He suddenly turned around and asked the Heavenly Dao, “What year is it right now?”

The Heavenly Dao said, “Currently, it is the ninety-eighth year of Changning.”

“The ninety-eighth year of Changning?” Jiang Qunyu was shocked. “It was still the eighty-seventh year of Xiping when I left. Has that much time truly passed?”

The Heavenly Dao thought for a moment and said, “One hundred and ten years have already passed.”

Jiang Qunyu never expected that he would sleep for so long. Perhaps because he was finally about to leave the cultivation world, he unexpectedly found himself thinking of that despicable man, Wei Xun.

Oh wait, he shouldn’t curse him anymore. Before leaving, he had just told Wei Xun that they should let all their grievances clear.

They had nothing to do with each other now. Besides, over a century had passed; there was no telling how carefree and comfortable Wei Xun’s life might be by now.

Jiang Qunyu couldn’t quite explain why, but the mere thought of Wei Xun made his entire body feel restlessly agitated.

After hesitating for a long while, he still decided to ask briefly about how Wei Xun had fared over these years—whether he had rewritten the book’s ending, lived a good life, and achieved his desires.

Jiang Qunyu felt a bit embarrassed. After all, asking the Heavenly Dao about one’s arch-nemesis felt rather bizarre.

He balled himself up tightly before letting out a cough, acting as though it were just a casual remark: “Well, let me ask you one last question then.”

The Heavenly Dao smiled gently.

Jiang Qunyu simply flattened his soul body into a soft, white mist pancake, making idle conversation against his true feelings: “Oh right, you definitely know about Wei Xun, right? Is he living a pretty carefree life? Sigh! Let me tell you, it’s not like I’m intentionally trying to pry into his business, it’s just that he and I originally had a bit of a grudge. If he’s out there living it up and enjoying a wonderful life, I’ll definitely feel ticked off. It’s best if he’s fared terribly, so that when I go, I can leave feeling absolutely jubilant.”

The Heavenly Dao comforted him warmly: “I suppose you can leave feeling absolutely jubilant.”

Jiang Qunyu: “?”

He climbed back up with a wooden expression. “He has achieved great mastery in the way of the sword, who could possibly bully him?”

Damn it, just how has Wei Xun been living his life?

Over a hundred years have passed, and he’s actually faring worse and worse?

Isn’t he the Demon Venerable? Don’t tell me Lan Yuanzhou isn’t dead yet? Did he fail to win over his spouse?

As his mind raced with wild thoughts, the Heavenly Dao slowly raised his hand. With a gentle swipe of his fingertips, a water mirror projection instantly condensed within the void.

Displayed within the mirror was a dark, quiet imperial bedchamber. The bed curtains hung low, creating a hazy, ambiguous atmosphere.

Amidst the bedsheets, two individuals lay with their clothing slightly disheveled, clinging tightly to one another. Wei Xun’s eyes were closed as he held the youth securely in his embrace in an exceedingly intimate, tender posture. One look was enough to tell that their relationship was far from ordinary.

Watching that scene, Jiang Qunyu’s chest suddenly tightened out of nowhere, feeling incredibly stifled. He instinctively assumed that the person in Wei Xun’s arms was Shen Peiqiu. He couldn’t help but huff twice, about to curl his lips and grumble about how this despicable man was clearly living a perfectly fine life, so where exactly was he suffering?

But in the next instant, the image within the mirror shifted, and the facial features of the person in Wei Xun’s arms became distinct.

The youth possessed a handsome appearance with an impeccably exquisite bone structure. The brow, the bridge of the nose, the shape of the lips—Jiang Qunyu was familiar with them down to the absolute core.

…It was actually his own face.

Jiang Qunyu’s entire white mist ball froze completely, his mind turning blank. His body went limp, and with a soft plop, he tumbled directly out of the Heavenly Dao’s cradling palm, falling straight down into the vast void.

Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck!

He climbed up with a face full of bewilderment, staring blankly at the water mirror projection where Wei Xun was kissing his eyelids and his lips. Afterward, Wei Xun walked out of the Yujing Pavilion all alone, crossed the River of Forgetfulness, traversed the vast desert, until he finally located that Hall of Longevity.

For once, the Heavenly Dao’s tone lost its initial calm and serenity, laced with a hint of grievance instead: “Not long after your departure this time, I imagine he will likely ascend, shatter the vault of heaven, and come to slay me.”

Jiang Qunyu fell into a long silence, uttering not a single word.

He even began to suspect that these images before his eyes were nothing more than a false illusion deliberately fabricated by the Heavenly Dao to deceive him.

The Heavenly Dao continued to speak faintly: “Your original soul had already dissipated from the world. I never made any promises to you; your soul’s gathering now was entirely accomplished by him for your sake.”

Jiang Qunyu still remained silent.

After an unknown amount of time, as if he had finally found an excuse for his inexplicable hesitation, he suddenly shook his white mist ball vigorously. Deliberately adopting a fierce expression, he said viciously:

“Anyway, I don’t have anything worth longing for in the modern world, and I haven’t even had a good chance to explore the cultivation world yet. Besides, I still have to go ask Wei Xun what exactly he means by this! You had better send me to the cultivation world instead.”

Seeing his tough-talking yet soft-hearted display, the Heavenly Dao let out a shallow smile, his eyes carrying a trace of knowing warmth as he complied: “Very well, I shall send you back.”

Jiang Qunyu immediately spoke up: “Just throw me straight into that body, it saves trouble.”

However, the Heavenly Dao shook his head: “That will not do. Your soul has not yet fully integrated, and your soul body remains empty and unstable; you cannot merge directly into that vessel right now. If you force a fusion, it will only cause your already fragile soul to disintegrate completely.”

He paused, then added, “If you wish to return to this body, you can only start from the beginning, growing up anew as an infant to slowly nourish your soul. To allow your soul to become thoroughly stable and whole, it will require at least another twenty-odd years of time.”

Hearing this, Jiang Qunyu blanked out for a moment. The thought of having to grow up all over again from childhood naturally made him grumble inwardly. Yet, as the scenes from the water mirror flashed through his mind, he thought to himself that he still had to go demand an answer from Wei Xun—to ask him if he was out of his mind, because why else would he kiss him?

Were the two of them in the kind of relationship where they could kiss?

Oh right, he had even made a body for him. When did he make it?

How did he even know what he looked like?

Therefore, he ultimately agreed, stating with a wooden face, “Fine then.”

In the same year, a massive fire consumed the Yujing Pavilion.

Jiang Qunyu was reborn.