ATAVID CH101

The Mirror of Heart-Questioning dimmed once more, sinking back into shadows.

The only movement came from the sky full of ghostly blue spirit butterflies. They swirled around the two of them, fluttering their wings in a rhythmic dance, casting a faint, pale luminescence upon the darkness.

Jiang Qunyu remained frozen in Wei Xun’s arms. His shoulders trembled uncontrollably, and hot tears fell onto Wei Xun’s cool robes, spreading into small, damp patches.

“Wei Xun,” he heard his own voice, very soft. “Is the winter at Yunque very cold?”

Wei Xun sighed lightly. He bowed his head slightly, and in the faint shimmer of the blue butterflies, he gently kissed away the tears rolling down Jiang Qunyu’s cheeks. He said, “It is not cold. When it snows, we can build snowmen. In the spring, there are apricot blossoms outside the Yuqing Building—though there is no one left to pick them for me, so the days feel a bit dull.”

Jiang Qunyu’s nose stung, his voice choking: “…When you walked through the River of Oblivion, when the Heavenly Fire fell, when you fell from the Yuqing Building… did it hurt?”

Wei Xun curled his lips into a smile: “It didn’t hurt.”

It didn’t hurt as much as the time when Jiang Qunyu disappeared, so it was perfectly fine.

“Liar…” Jiang Qunyu was already sobbing uncontrollably.

It didn’t hurt?

But why, even just watching the replays in the mirror, did he feel like he was suffocating from the pain?

“I’m not lying to you,” Wei Xun raised a hand, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that kept sliding down. He said, each word deliberate, “I love you.”

“Jiang Qunyu,” he said, “I didn’t want you to know these things. Stop crying, please?”

Jiang Qunyu didn’t speak. He simply loosened his posture, leaning his head against Wei Xun’s shoulder. He inhaled the scent that always belonged to Wei Xun—a faint smell, like the first snow of the season. He whispered, repeating the question: “Why didn’t you let me know? Why didn’t you let me know?”

Clearly… back then, he had loved him too.

He had just been accustomed to running away. He had lost his mother when he was very young, lived alone, and grew up alone, so no one had ever taught him that if you love someone, you can actually be brave enough to admit it.

If he had known that during those years, Wei Xun was running himself ragged just to recast his body, he might have understood his own heart much sooner.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have been able to pull away so easily later on, leaving just like that and hurting the person he loved.

“Because I was afraid,” Wei Xun finally admitted. He held Jiang Qunyu tight, dissecting himself in the dark. “I was terrified, Jiang Qunyu. Actually, I am not that powerful. I was afraid I would fail. If you had known early on, but I had failed to recast your body—as time passed, you would have been disappointed, you would have been sad.”

Jiang Qunyu’s heart ached so much he could barely breathe. After a long while, he buried his face in Wei Xun’s chest and muttered: “But… I am very sad right now.”

“Wei Xun,” he said, “my heart hurts.”

“It doesn’t hurt.” Wei Xun took Jiang Qunyu’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and pressed the back of his hand against his own cheek. “Don’t feel heartache for me. I, too, made many mistakes.”

He paused, then continued: “Jiang Qunyu, you can hate me, or you can love me.”

But do not feel heartache for him. The suffering he endured was merely the price of the mistakes he had committed in the past—a cost he paid willingly.

“But I love you. Loving someone, by its very nature, means feeling heartache for them.” Jiang Qunyu stood on his tiptoes to press against the corner of Wei Xun’s lips. He looked into Wei Xun’s eyes: “I can’t help but wonder, if I hadn’t come back, would you have been sad? The Hall of Longevity was too cold.”

That place was perpetually covered in snow, and one couldn’t even use internal energy to stay warm. How had this madman, Wei Xun, been so stubborn as to kneel there for so long?

“Was it worth it?” he asked.

Wei Xun was startled by the question and remained silent for a long time.

Only after a long while did he ask a completely unrelated question: “Do you want to be carried on my back? Or in my arms?”

Jiang Qunyu blinked, his nose still stinging, and replied in a low voice: “On your back.”

Wei Xun turned around and squatted down.

Only when Jiang Qunyu’s arms wrapped around his neck, pressing his weight against him, did Wei Xun carefully lift his legs, feeling Jiang Qunyu lean his head against his shoulder. Finally, he answered: “It was worth it.”

He said: “The Hall of Longevity was not cold. I always thought, perhaps one day you would return, so I endured it gladly. Even if that day never came, even if it meant killing gods and defying fate, I would have found you.”

Jiang Qunyu rubbed his nose against Wei Xun’s cool neck and whispered: “Madman.”

They walked out of the Mirror of Heart-Questioning.

Wei Xun asked him where he wanted to go.

Jiang Qunyu’s emotions had mostly stabilized. He leaned on Wei Xun’s back, thinking quietly for a moment before whispering: “Back to the Yuqing Building, is that alright?”

“It is,” Wei Xun replied.

With his cultivation at the Harmony (He-Ti) stage, he could ride the wind at incredible speed. In a mere moment, they arrived at Yunque City.

Once inside the city, Wei Xun slowed his pace. He didn’t rush, but walked steadily with Jiang Qunyu on his back, strolling down the long street.

After the intense emotions had settled, they had to discuss serious matters. Jiang Qunyu sorted through his chaotic thoughts and asked: “How did you know I was in the Mirror of Heart-Questioning?”

Wei Xun did not want others to disturb their time, so he deliberately avoided the demonic cultivators in the city. The road ahead was quiet and deserted.

Only then did he say: “You and I have long since performed the wedding rites and formed a bond; we have the mark of a cultivation partner. I can vaguely sense your state of mind and your location.”

Jiang Qunyu hadn’t expected the wedding rites to have such a utility. He remembered the pressure Qin Shiyue had exerted on him at the Lock-Ghost Hall, which had been completely ineffective: “Can this bond also defend against the pressure of cultivators with higher cultivation than mine?”

“Yes,” Wei Xun replied calmly. “My cultivation is one level higher than Qin Shiyue’s, and with the bond connecting us, he cannot harm you. It is just that the bond has a range limit, and since you were inside the mirror domain where you couldn’t use spells, it took me a little more time to find you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Qunyu’s voice was soft. “I made you wait for such a long time again.”

Wei Xun remained silent for a moment before honestly revealing his thoughts: “When I discovered that you and Wen Xingyao had vanished into thin air, I actually privately hoped… that he was a good person, and that you had simply walked far away with him to leave me behind for a while. That would have been better than you falling into danger or being hurt.”

Jiang Qunyu listened, his heart warming. He couldn’t help but want to laugh, teasing him: “Then, if I really had walked away with him and you had dragged me back, would you truly have done what you threatened before—pulling my tendons and skinning me?”

These were the words Wei Xun had once used to threaten him. But they hadn’t been effective; Wei Xun would say threats with his mouth, but his sword would be pointed at his own heart.

“No,” as expected, Wei Xun didn’t even think before denying it.

Jiang Qunyu laughed aloud.

The next instant, Wei Xun smiled wickedly: “I would have locked you up and fucked you.”

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

He was silent for a while before he couldn’t resist biting Wei Xun’s shoulder, saying huffily: “Can you try to be civilized?”

He had never expected Wei Xun to act like a decent person for more than a day. Not long passed, and he was already back to his usual tone. He was truly asking for a beating.

Wei Xun didn’t seem to feel the pain. He paused and asked tentatively: “Can I bite the other side too?”

“…” Jiang Qunyu hugged his neck with one hand and tugged at his cheek with the other: “Are you sick?”

He couldn’t be bothered with Wei Xun’s bizarre hobbies: “Did you ever find Qin Shiyue later?”

“No,” Wei Xun adjusted him higher on his back, thinking Jiang Qunyu was still too thin and should be pampered more in the future—preferably until he was a bit chubby. “You don’t need to blame yourself. If I had wanted to kill him, I could have killed him a thousand times over these past twenty years. The only reason I didn’t kill him was that I wanted to see who was behind him.”

Jiang Qunyu was stunned: “How did you know he was plotting with Wen…”

He stuttered for a moment, then changed his phrasing, “…with Xuan Jin?”

After sensing Jiang Qunyu inside the mirror, Wei Xun had already guessed that they must have had an argument in the mirror domain and parted on bad terms. He couldn’t help but hide a secret, imperceptible delight: from now on, no one else would be able to approach Jiang Qunyu in the name of a friend and distract his attention.

But then, reflecting on the fact that Wen Xingyao had once been a true friend to Jiang Qunyu, and that their relationship had shattered in a single day—Jiang Qunyu must be very hurt. He felt a pang of heartache.

He paused and asked: “Did he tell you his name was Xuan Jin?”

“Yes,” Jiang Qunyu replied, leaning against his shoulder. “In the past, when I listened to stories in the Yunque teahouses, I had heard the name Xuan Jin. Later, when the incident with the Demonic Meteor Bead came to light, I specifically looked through many ancient records.”

“Books have very few mentions of Tiandu City, only generally stating that over two thousand years ago, Tiandu City was besieged and destroyed. That little prince, Xuan Jin, who was exceptionally talented and had stopped at the fourth level of the Refining Void realm, also died in that chaos.”

The Demonic Meteor Bead and the Nine-Heaven Immortal Lotus were both sacred treasures of Tiandu City. After the siege ended, the Nine-Heaven Immortal Lotus was forcibly seized by the Buxu Sect. Only the Demonic Meteor Bead had vanished mysteriously, with no further word of it.

What if… in that siege, Xuan Jin hadn’t died, but had taken the bead and escaped?

After all, that bead had allowed Yinzhu and Wei Miao to pass through the heavy barriers Wei Xun had set around the Yuqing Building without any restrictions. It could have certainly allowed the Xuan Jin of that time to survive under the noses of those powerful sect leaders.

“The bead is in Xuan Jin’s hands,” Wei Xun’s expression turned sinister, and he sneered, “So, Xuan Jin gave the Demonic Meteor Bead to Wei Miao?”

Jiang Qunyu nodded: “Yes. But to this day, I can’t figure out what he wants by putting so much effort into laying out such a huge trap.”

After all, to some extent, if not for these things, they would have been considered friends.

“What does he want?” Wei Xun’s expression was calm, his voice cold: “Jiang Qunyu, have you ever heard of a ‘Heavenly Demon’?”

Jiang Qunyu was a bit blank, shaking his head: “I have never heard of it.”

Wei Xun said: “When I was young and studying sword techniques with Wei Lan, he once told me a rumor. It is said that only those chosen by the gods, whose inner demons are born and accompany them, can cut away their inner demons seven times to attain the supreme sword path, becoming immortal, indestructible, and eternal.”

Jiang Qunyu’s mind went blank.

He remembered that voice he had heard faintly when he first arrived in this world. That voice had told him that as long as he could help Wei Xun reach the pinnacle of the sword path, he could be reborn and live in this world.

But after coming out of the Mirror of Heart-Questioning, Jiang Qunyu knew that his body had been recast by Wei Xun; it wasn’t a rebirth at all. Even his soul had been reunited thanks to the Soul-Returning Lamp Wei Xun had lit for him at the Hall of Longevity.

So, from start to finish, that voice had been lying to him?

Lying to him, telling him that as the embodiment of Wei Xun’s inner demon, he had to die seven times, helping Wei Xun cut away his inner demons and achieve the Great Path, only for him to attain a body and be reborn.

But at that time, Wei Xun no longer wanted to kill him. And he, settled safely within Yunque, had not been in any danger of losing his life. If not for Yinzhu’s forced coercion, and because he had found a suitable opportunity, Jiang Qunyu might never have died for the sixth time before the Great War between righteousness and evil.

It was highly likely that during the Great War, Wei Xun’s fate would have followed the original plot: because his inner demons had not been cut away seven times, he would have ended up dying by Lan Yuanzhou’s sword.

The words Xuan Jin had spoken in his ear echoed once more.

He had said: “Only when one encounters a catastrophe of chaotic times, where living beings die in large numbers, will vengeful spirits be born… for example, the endless flames of war in the human world…”

For example, that Great War between the righteous and evil that swept through the Immortal and Demonic realms.

In the original plot, once Wei Xun died, the war ended early, casualties were limited, and naturally, few vengeful spirits were born.

But now, the variable had been created. Wei Xun not only lived but reached the perfection of the sword path, stepping step by step toward the body of a Heavenly Demon. As long as he lived, the flames of war between immortals and demons would not cease, the slaughter would continue, and the number of fallen cultivators and demon practitioners would only increase.

The more people died, the heavier the resentment accumulated in heaven and earth, and the more the vengeful spirits would multiply exponentially.

Jiang Qunyu had never imagined that, one day, his death could accomplish so many things.

It could allow Wei Xun to reach the perfection of the sword path and become a Heavenly Demon.

It could also lead Wei Xun to vent his anger on the entire cultivation world for his sake. If a never-ending war could be ignited, countless vengeful spirits could be born.

The moment he realized this, Jiang Qunyu’s scalp went numb. Because, having thought it over, he realized that the voice that had spoken in his ear… indeed bore a striking resemblance to Xuan Jin’s.