ATAVID CH100

As they plummeted into the ground, the endless, stretching darkness rippled with pale blue waves caused by their fall.

It wasn’t painful, but Jiang Qunyu didn’t really want to get up.

He let go of Wen Xingyao’s wrist and lay quietly on the cold ground, his eyes open, staring into the vacant expanse above. Within the Mirror of Heart-Questioning, frightened, ghostly blue spirit butterflies fluttered their wings; the flickering light and shadow made the surroundings feel even more deathly silent.

The air was heavy and stifling, so quiet that even his own breathing was clearly audible.

After a long while, Wen Xingyao was the first to prop himself up from the ground, his tone carrying a trace of anger and grievance: “Jiang Qunyu! You dragged me in here on purpose just to see me make a fool of myself, didn’t you?”

Jiang Qunyu remained lying down, silent, his expression so distant that no emotion could be discerned.

Receiving no response, Wen Xingyao stopped speaking, standing silently in the darkness.

No one knew how much time had passed before Jiang Qunyu finally stood up.

Wen Xingyao curled his lips into a smile, stating with certainty: “You were the one who secretly crushed that sound-transmission jade pendant.”

The moment those words fell, the sky behind Jiang Qunyu shimmered like water, suddenly lighting up. The light reflected the scene from the desert that day: the instant he bent down to pick up the jade pendant, a thread of imperceptible demonic energy had quietly seeped from his fingertips into the jade. The moment the energy entered, the pendant had shattered into pieces.

The scene vanished in an instant, and the sky returned to its gloomy dimness.

Wen Xingyao sighed, his voice drifting faintly in the darkness: “You had already suspected me for a long time. Since you were so full of suspicion, why go to such great lengths, using your own lack of direction as an excuse, to trick me all the way here?”

The darkness deepened. Pitch black like ink, the two stood not far apart, but neither could see the other’s expression.

A surge of self-mockery welled up in Jiang Qunyu’s heart. He hadn’t really wanted to dig deep, nor did he want to view those around him with suspicion, but the fragmented clues in his mind couldn’t be ignored—they kept emerging, entangling him, impossible to put aside.

For example, at Mirror Lake City, that elusive, cool scent that lingered on the tip of his nose. At first, he thought it was just the earth qi of the city and didn’t think much of it. But later that night, Wen Xingyao came banging on the door, weeping and terrified that he would suffer the same miserable fate as the Profound Sword Sect disciples. Yun Shuangjian had been outside the door, but when the door opened, only Wen Xingyao remained. That was also the day he smelled that identical cool scent on Wen Xingyao.

At that time, Wen Xingyao’s cultivation was mediocre—just the talent of an ordinary cultivator. In terms of strength, he was nowhere near a match for Yun Shuangjian. How could he have escaped unscathed from Yun Shuangjian’s hands?

And at the banquet back then, was it really because he wanted to use the privy that he happened to stumble upon the “Vengeance-Forming Creatures” hidden in Cui Mingjin’s backyard? Was it a genuine accident, or had Wen Xingyao carefully laid a trap from the start, leading them step by step into his game?

After Jiang Qunyu opened his heart to Wei Xun, he once asked him why he had agreed to the deal involving the “Bitter Crossing Gu” with Cui Mingjin. Wei Xun told him that at the time, his feelings weren’t yet clear. Cui Mingjin had used Wen Xingyao to lead them to the backyard to see the creatures, then used Yun Shuangjian to drag them into the peril of the underground palace. Cui Mingjin had bet that Jiang Qunyu was emotionally-driven and would definitely step up when Wen Xingyao was in danger, hoping to force Wei Xun to realize his own feelings while Jiang Qunyu was in jeopardy, thus sealing the deal.

But was it possible that Cui Mingjin hadn’t been using Wen Xingyao? Was it actually Wen Xingyao, using Cui Mingjin’s chessboard to push his own agenda and manipulate everyone?

“I just wasn’t willing to give up.”

Jiang Qunyu spoke softly in the dark, his tone flat, yet hiding a trace of indescribable desolation.

As he spoke, the light and shadow before him began to shift. The scenes behind Wen Xingyao changed layer by layer, forcefully projected by the Mirror of Heart-Questioning to reveal his sealed past.

The first scene was at Cui Mingjin’s banquet. The lights flickered. Wen Xingyao watched the drugged wine in his cup without the slightest hint of vigilance; instead, he curled his lips ever so slightly and drank it without hesitation. Shortly after, he left the banquet, following Cui Mingjin’s intent, and found the shells of the Vengeance-Forming Creatures in the backyard. Then, he returned as if nothing happened, feigning shock to tell Wei Xun what he had seen.

The second scene showed Wen Xingyao standing under the bamboo building. Upstairs, Yun Shuangjian was knocking on the door, thump, thump, thump in the silent midnight. Wen Xingyao held a quilt in one hand, formed a hand seal with the other, and whispered: “Leave.” Yun Shuangjian paused, then left. Then, Wen Xingyao wrapped the quilt around himself, lowered his eyes, and imitated his usual “self,” looking terrified: “Jiang Qunyu, open the door! I feel like I’m going to die.”

But the history inside the underground palace was never projected by the mirror.

Seeing the complicated look on Jiang Qunyu’s face, Wen Xingyao laughed: “He didn’t lie to you in the underground palace.” He sighed, genuinely moved: “Jiang Qunyu, you really are very smart.”

After a silence, he finally asked the doubt in his heart: “I’m curious, when did you actually start suspecting me?”

Jiang Qunyu looked straight at him. After a long time, he said: “Actually, I never wanted to suspect you, Wen Xingyao. You were the first friend I made in this world.”

He could only connect with the outside world while possessing Wei Xun. Only Wei Xun and Wen Xingyao knew of his existence. He had trusted Wen Xingyao too much because of a few lines in the original plot; that was his own fault. Because Wen Xingyao was the only one besides Wei Xun to call his name, he subconsciously refused to think too deeply; that was also his fault. But he didn’t regret it.

“However,” Jiang Qunyu paused, “Back then, Wei Xun wasn’t in Yunque City. I was alone in the Yuqing Building, and only you knew. I never told anyone else.”

In the darkness, Jiang Qunyu tightened his lips, continuing to dissect the details he had once subconsciously ignored: “Back then, news had just spread that Wei Xun was Wei Guanlan. Major sects were wary of him and always hindered him; he was tied up elsewhere. It just so happened that a beast tide struck, leaving me alone in the Yuqing Building. When Yinzhu and Wei Miao came up, I was genuinely confused. Wei Xun had set up many barriers outside the building; how did they get up?”

“And how did they know there was something in the Yuqing Building that Wei Xun wanted to protect?”

At first, he thought they were after the Nine-Heaven Immortal Lotus. But that day when his Qiankun bag fell, the Immortal Lotus was inside, and Wei Miao didn’t even spare it a glance. He was certain it wasn’t what Wei Xun truly cared about, anxiously urging Yinzhu to search deeper. How could he be so sure? After all, in the Yuqing Building at that time, besides the Immortal Lotus, the only thing remaining was… him.

“Wen Xingyao,” Jiang Qunyu stared at him steadily, his voice calm yet filled with certainty, “That Demonic Meteor Bead Wei Miao gave to Yinzhu—it was given by you, right?”

Wen Xingyao remained silent, neither admitting nor denying it. But the light behind him changed.

After the destruction of the Lingxiao Sect, in order to take revenge on Wei Xun, Wei Miao had traveled between the Buxu Sect and the Profound Sword Sect, trying to convince them to join him in eliminating Wei Xun. But it was too slow… too slow… he wanted to find a way immediately to make Wei Xun experience a fate worse than death.

Just as he was anxious, someone came to him on their own initiative. The visitor lowered his eyes, his voice hoarse, carrying an indifferent clarity that seemed to see through everything: “You want revenge?”

Wei Miao looked up at the stranger, wary: “So what if I do? What if I don’t?”

The man said coldly: “If you do, I can help you. As long as you are willing.”

Wei Miao was shaken. He was excited, but still guarded; he didn’t believe in sudden, unprompted kindness.

The man said: “If you don’t believe me, you can go verify if the new master of the Demon Realm, Wei Guanlan, is the Wei Xun you have been searching for.”

Wei Miao still had doubts, but the resentment in his chest eventually overcame his reason. He secretly sent someone to investigate. When he got the portrait and saw the face that was identical to Wei Xun’s, he believed it completely. He was restless all day, fearing the mysterious man wouldn’t appear again. But that night, the man appeared and seduced him: “In this way, do you believe it now?”

Wei Miao’s eyes were filled with paranoid hatred: “I believe it. No matter what, I must make Wei Xun pay the price.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he handed over a Demonic Meteor Bead wreathed in black mist, his voice icy: “On the top floor of the Yuqing Building, there is a wisp of a soul that Wei Xun carefully protects. Get this item, and kill him.”

Wei Miao looked at the bead. Almost as if possessed, he took it and replied in a deep voice: “Fine.”

The man sighed: “Don’t let me down.”

The next instant, the light shifted, and the man’s face became clear—it was none other than Wen Xingyao.

The scene in the mirror gradually faded, returning to the boundless darkness.

Wen Xingyao hadn’t expected him to have realized it back then: “Just because of that?”

Fifteen minutes ago, they were good friends. Fifteen minutes later, they were confronting each other in the dark.

Jiang Qunyu sighed: “In the 87th year of Xiping, the news that Wei Xun went to Kunlun Mountain—that was also leaked by you.”

Wen Xingyao was silent for a moment: “You were testing me.”

Jiang Qunyu didn’t deny it. Ever since the Yuqing Building incident, he rarely contacted Wen Xingyao. In the 87th year of Xiping, the atmosphere between the Immortal and Demonic realms was tense; a great war was inevitable. After Wen Xingyao asked about his recent situation, he hesitated for a moment—perhaps knowing war was inevitable, it would happen eventually, or perhaps holding onto a bit of testing—Jiang Qunyu said: “I should be with Wei Xun, in a place called Kunlun Mountain.” He paused and added: “Wen Xingyao, perhaps in the near future, I will disappear for a while.”

Later, they returned to Yunque and were besieged by several sects. Admittedly, if he hadn’t told Wen Xingyao, the high-level demons coveting the Demon Lord’s position would have leaked the news anyway. But Jiang Qunyu couldn’t help but start suspecting Wen Xingyao. How could it be such a coincidence? he thought.

“Yes,” Jiang Qunyu looked at him, “I was testing you.”

“You were too impatient.” His voice was slow. “Actually, a few months ago, the first time I met you, when I went to untie the ropes on your wrists, it was very strange. You had scratches of all sizes on your exposed skin, but your knees were completely clean.”

“Even those Ghost Cultivators at the Divine Transformation stage in the Nine Nethers had to kneel down under Qin Shiyue’s pressure. Why were your knees uninjured? And the harshest rebuke Qin Shiyue gave you was just a light ‘shut up’.”

“Later, I asked why you appeared at the Place of God’s Fall, and you subconsciously pushed the reason onto Qin Shiyue. Your relationship is definitely not simple; in fact… he was acting according to your will.”

“The external wounds on you were nothing; you could have easily left. But you lingered for half a month. You weren’t unable to leave; you were just waiting for the most suitable time, waiting for the Place of God’s Fall to open.”

“Perhaps if I hadn’t been there, you would have used the excuse that Qin Shiyue’s underlings were searching for new spirit bodies to solidify his soul, and you would have stayed in the Nine Nethers to lay your plans. But you didn’t expect me to be there, so you simply played along and used me. You knew Wei Xun was looking for that Godly Bone, and to distract him, you pushed me into the secret realm.”

“Also, your phrasing was very strange.” Jiang Qunyu lowered his eyes, no longer wanting to look at the scenes of the past constantly幻化 appearing behind Wen Xingyao. He said: “Maybe you didn’t even realize it, but you were lax. Without me mentioning it, you spoke about that Heavenly Fire and said it wouldn’t kill Wei Xun. How did you know that? You said Qin Shiyue threw you into the secret realm, but how did you know it was the Place of God’s Fall? I never told you the name.”

Recalling every word along the way, there were cracks everywhere.

“You deliberately guided me, every word steering my suspicion toward Su Fuyao. But you were also desperate to part ways with me. Wen Xingyao, what exactly are you trying to do?”

After planting the suspicion in his heart, Jiang Qunyu secretly read countless ancient books and scrolls related to Demonic Meteor Beads. He learned about the mirror that opens outside Tiandu City on snowy days. He had originally not wanted to ask, hoping to just gloss over it. That was why he suggested resting for a few days. But Wen Xingyao seemed to have sensed something and followed him, perhaps thinking to just let the mask fall, but then having second thoughts.

But since we are here, let’s just lay everything out clearly in this Mirror of Heart-Questioning, Jiang Qunyu thought.

The surroundings fell into a long, dead silence.

Wen Xingyao remained silent for a long time, letting the darkness envelope him. Only after a long while did he slowly speak, his voice carrying a trace of self-mocking coldness.

“Jiang Qunyu, have you ever experienced the feeling of walking through this Mirror of Heart-Questioning again and again, year after year?”

He chanted the prophecy on the mirror wall low, then suddenly burst into loud laughter, which echoed in the empty, dark mirror domain with a touch of madness: “Flowers in the mirror, moon in the water; seen with laughing eyes, they all seem real. Do not ask Heaven, do not ask Immortals; the heart-questioning shadow is before your eyes. If there is no debt, the body is steady; those with guilt cannot move their steps.”

“I have walked through this Mirror of Heart-Questioning thousands of times, and I have never felt that I am guilty. I didn’t feel it before, and I never will in the future.”

“Only toward you do I still have a trace of debt in my heart, and it is precisely because of this debt that you were allowed to catch a glimpse of those fragments of the past. As for the other secrets you wish to investigate, I ask myself and find no guilt, so even in this mirror, it is impossible for you to know them.”

His tone suddenly became cold and hard, devoid of its former gentleness: “Do not think of stopping me; you cannot kill me. After stepping out of this Mirror of Heart-Questioning, I will no longer show you mercy.”

Having said this, Wen Xingyao turned and began walking toward the depths of the darkness. In the dark, with every step he took, ripples of pale blue water emanated from the mirror surface beneath his feet, making his silhouette seem even more distant and indifferent.

Jiang Qunyu asked him one last time: “Are you Wen Xingyao?”

The figure moving forward stopped abruptly.

A moment later, the man’s lips curled into a faint, indifferent arc, his voice cold and completely shed of its past liveliness.

“Wen Xingyao? That is merely a wisp of a soul drifting in the world, foolish and ridiculous. My name is Xuan Jin. From now on, there will be no more Wen Xingyao in this world.”

Xuan Jin. Xuan Jin. The Little Prince of Tiandu City from over two thousand years ago, who stopped at the fourth stage of the Refining Void realm and ultimately died at the hands of righteous cultivators.

Jiang Qunyu summoned the Red Scythe.

Wen Xingyao—or rather, Xuan Jin—paused his footsteps. He said: “I don’t want to kill you.”

Jiang Qunyu didn’t move either. Truth be told… he couldn’t bring himself to strike, even knowing that everything behind the scenes might have been Xuan Jin’s doing.

But just for today…

Let it be.

He watched Xuan Jin’s silhouette disappear at the end of the Mirror of Heart-Questioning.

In the vast mirror domain, he was the only one left, standing quietly for a long, long time.

After an unknown duration, Jiang Qunyu finally came back to his senses, walking alone through the boundless darkness.

The surroundings were vast, full of endless, stretching black.

He suddenly remembered the lantern given to him by Weng Shouji of the Hall of Longevity. He reached out, took it, and lit it. Looking closely, he realized it was more appropriate to call it a glass lantern. A small light was embedded in a greenish paper supported by bamboo bones. Inside, the light shone brightly, casting a cool, greenish-blue halo that barely managed to break through the heavy darkness.

Jiang Qunyu held the lantern, his eyes half-closed, walking in the dark. Occasionally, a few ghostly blue butterflies danced beside him.

Suddenly—perhaps bumping into the barrier of the Mirror of Heart-Questioning—Jiang Qunyu’s heart was in such chaos that he lost his focus, and the lantern in his hand fell to the ground with a crash.

The glass lantern shattered, and pale greenish fluorescence spread from the ground toward the air, fragmented like stars.

Jiang Qunyu suddenly stopped and looked up. He saw those scattered greenish lights slowly intertwining and circulating within the mirror domain, taking shape as scene after scene unfolded in the boundless darkness…

…It was Wei Xun’s memory.

In the 22nd year of Xiping, they were accidentally swept into a “Pillow of Yellow Springs.” In Wei Xun’s illusion, they had their first fleeting, near-touching kiss. At that time, he realized for the first time that being injured in a secret realm wouldn’t hurt. He told Wei Xun to wait for him, that he would be back soon. But in the end, Wei Xun summoned his “Soul-Devouring” sword and injured himself to break the illusion.

The “Pillow of Yellow Springs” shattered, but at that moment, Wei Xun truly developed an obsession.

In the 23rd year of Xiping, Wei Xun decided to recast a body for him. Mo Wudu’s few words: Chaos Stone, Heart of the Divine Tree, Nine-Heaven Immortal Lotus, Spirit Deer Heart Blood, Kunlun Separation Jade. Wei Xun spent sixty-four years, from the 23rd year of Xiping to the 87th year of Xiping, chasing these.

He would often forget Wei Xun, and Wei Xun would tirelessly kiss his eyes, his face, holding him in his arms, praying that next time, he would remember.

In the 87th year of Xiping, his soul dissipated.

Wei Xun waited in the Yuqing Building, year after year.

He watched him cultivate inner demons; he watched him walk through the River of Oblivion; he watched him kneel before the Hall of Longevity for nearly a hundred years.

In the 98th year of Changning, the Yuqing Building was engulfed in flames.

Wei Xun didn’t even want to live anymore, only to find that he couldn’t even die. The fingers that had once been clearly defined now showed skeletal bone, only to be covered by new flesh again. Like he had done back then, he fell from the Yuqing Building.

Later, he would still often kneel before the Hall of Longevity, but there was no devotion left in his eyes—only the desire to kill God.

His heart felt as if it were being tightly gripped by an invisible giant hand. Jiang Qunyu stared blankly at those scenes, the pain so intense he could barely breathe.

The words Qin Shiyue had said echoed in his ears. He had said that the aura on his body contained Spirit Deer Blood, and the Nine-Heaven Immortal Lotus…

Jiang Qunyu had long ago faintly guessed the truth, but when that truth settled, a bone-chilling pain swept through his entire body…

It hurts, it hurts so much.

Large, heavy tears rolled down. His fingertips trembled uncontrollably. The sourness churning in his chest felt like chronic poison, seeping into his limbs and bones, grinding his insides piece by piece.

Just then, a thread of cool, crisp scent drifted into his nose.

The next instant, in the darkness, he was pulled into a cold embrace, blocking his vision.

He heard Wei Xun’s voice, cold and faint, yet somewhat flustered.

“Jiang Qunyu,” Wei Xun said. “Don’t look, I beg you.”