ATAVID CH45

The moonlight fell upon Wei Xun’s body, cold as snow, his slightly upturned eyes carrying a few hints of aloof detachment.

Cui Mingjin suddenly bent over, laughing uproariously.

Almost the exact instant he saw Wei Xun, he knew his identity.

That face.

Those eyes.

They were identical to the young woman who had died twenty-seven years ago.

The young woman’s child, ah—the child who by all rights should have died twenty-seven years ago.

If it were him, could the young woman’s resentment finally be resolved?

Cui Mingjin thought to himself.

But would Wei Xun agree to help him? To send his wife into the Forgotten River.

If he refused, what should he do then? His own days were numbered; he had long since run out of futures.

Just when he was at his wits’ end, Cui Nian spoke to him about the youth by Wei Xun’s side.

“Daddy, does that big brother also never grow up, just like us?” Cui Nian tilted his head, his round eyes wide open.

Cui Mingjin felt a surge of wild joy. After questioning Cui Nian thoroughly, he was finally certain that Wei Xun was just like him, having used that wicked method to refine a creature born of synthesized resentment.

But what he failed to realize was that, in reality, Jiang Qunyu was not what he called a creature born of resentment. The only reason Cui Nian could see him was because he did not belong to this world; like Cui Nian and the others, he existed outside the five realms.

He was Wei Xun’s inner demon.

Ignorant of the underlying cause, Cui Mingjin believed that Wei Xun was the exact same kind of person as himself.

He would understand him.

Therefore, he thought of the hex he had painstakingly sought out—the one his wife never had the chance to use.

With this, surely that youth would agree to his terms.

But to his complete surprise, Wei Xun refused.

Cui Mingjin was in utter disbelief; by all accounts, he should have agreed.

Was he not a cultivator? He must have a way to discern whether his words were true or false. He had not deceived him; every single sentence was the absolute truth. Why did he not accept?

Cui Mingjin watched the youth’s retreating figure, his ears still seemingly echoing with the boy’s words, which sounded like shattered jade and thin ice: “It just so happens that I have no need for it.”

No need? How could he have no need for it?

Everyone else could misunderstand him, but Wei Xun could not.

He still needed Wei Xun to send his wife into the Forgotten River.

Since that was the case, a venomous malice flashed through Cui Mingjin’s eyes. He thought to himself, Then I will simply force Wei Xun to come back and find me.

He originally had no wish to resort to this, but who told Wei Xun to reject him.

So, he ordered those creatures born of resentment to go and kill Jiang Qunyu.

Unfortunately, those things were still far too useless; even before Wei Xun could make a move, Jiang Qunyu had already taken care of them himself.

Yet following this, Cui Mingjin became very happy instead.

Look, look—Wei Xun clearly cared deeply, didn’t he?

Why lie to oneself?

Cui Mingjin did not understand.

But it mattered not. Since things were this way, he would just let Yun Shuangjian give him a hard push.

Though this decision might end up killing that youth, the absolute worst outcome would merely be Wei Xun slaying him in a fit of rage.

Even that was better than staying in this city, watching over his wife as he slowly died away.

Everything went quite smoothly.

Wei Xun did indeed come back to find him once more.

He was uncertain how much Wei Xun knew about the events of Mirror Lake City, or whether Wei Xun knew that a portion of his wife’s body belonged to his own mother.

Nor did he intend to reveal the connection between Yun Shuangjian and Wei Xun.

He only needed Wei Xun to resolve that young woman’s resentment, and then send his wife into the Forgotten River.

But a variable arose.

Cui Mingjin still remembered the young woman’s husband in his memories as a man of impeccable honor. That man was as gentle as jade, always refined and courteous in his interactions, nodding in polite greeting even to a stranger like him.

Hence, he subconsciously assumed that since Wei Xun grew up by that man’s side, he too should be a noble, upright gentleman.

He never expected that the moment Wei Xun took that hex, before he could even utter a word, he would move to kill him.

Fortunately, Cui Mingjin had always been cautious; he had set up mechanical trap arrays in his study long ago.

After escaping the City Lord’s manor, Cui Mingjin arrived at the underground palace, waiting for the arrival of Wei Xun and Jiang Qunyu.

Cui Mingjin did not lay out the full story to the two of them. Masking the relationship between Wei Xun and that young woman, he merely paused and said, “Young Master Wei, I merely want you to send my wife into the Forgotten River, why must you drive her to total annihilation?”

If he had not appeared in time, Yun Shuangjian’s soul would have likely scattered to the winds by now.

Furthermore, Cui Mingjin let out a soft cough, his heart a tangled mess.

He thought that Wei Xun perhaps truly did not know the connection between Yun Shuangjian and himself; otherwise, if he knew that Yun Shuangjian could technically count as his mother, how could he still wield his sword with such ruthless finality.

“The Forgotten River?” Wei Xun sneered coldly upon hearing this. “She has slaughtered so many people, how can she still enter the Forgotten River?”

Cui Mingjin said gloomily, “All those killings were merely forced upon her for the sake of my own selfish desires. Once I die, those karmic debts will naturally fall solely upon my head. Whether I go to hell or not, I do not care—as long as you send her to the Forgotten River, I will not speak of that item to the other young master.”

Jiang Qunyu found this somewhat strange: “What item?”

Poking his head out, the black mist ball shifted slightly.

Wei Xun frowned, reaching down to push him back in: “It’s nothing.”

Jiang Qunyu: “…”

So secretive.

He didn’t press further; considering it was a secret anyway, the less he knew, the better.

Clutching Wei Xun’s collar, he thought about what he had heard: He never once asked if Yun Shuangjian was willing, yet he stubbornly kept her bound for twenty-seven years, bringing harm to her.

Now that he is dying, he claims he wants to send Yun Shuangjian to the Forgotten River. This man truly is rotten to the core. Furthermore, it is one thing for him to abet a monster and delude himself into raising this thing that is neither human nor ghost as his wife—but the other citizens were entirely innocent, to say nothing of that young woman whom he refined along with her.

Listening to the story unfold, Jiang Qunyu felt that Yun Shuangjian was tragic, Cui Nian was tragic, the innocent citizens who died horribly in the city were tragic, but that young woman was the most tragic of all.

Failing to wait for her husband’s return, she died because of a so-called “proving the Dao by killing one’s wife.”

After her death, her husband’s emotional threads were extracted, causing him to leave indifferently, and the child in her womb was taken away. While that Daoist Lord was being celebrated for successfully crossing his tribulation to achieve the Transformation Stage, her bones were not yet cold; she wasn’t even granted a proper burial before being refined due to Cui Mingjin’s selfish desires.

And now, her resentment had to be unraveled simply because Cui Mingjin was dying and was finally willing to let Yun Shuangjian leave.

“Indeed.” Wei Xun made absolutely no effort to hide his own malice, his brows furrowing in disgust. “I cannot tell whether he truly loves her or not—to be so foolish as to refine his own wife together with someone else, can the entity produced from such a refinement truly still be considered his wife?”

The words of Jiang Qunyu and Wei Xun were like a succession of knives, stabbing violently into the places he had always refused to touch.

Those problems he had subconsciously avoided throughout the past twenty-seven years, those thoughts he never dared to ponder deeply, were now completely turned over and laid bare in the light of day.

He grew furious: “Shuangjian was willing! She was always willing! She told me she would stay with me! She is my wife, not some thing that is neither human nor ghost!”

Nestled in Wei Xun’s embrace, Jiang Qunyu poked half his head out and said relentlessly, “Then why did she leave without a single shred of obsession after her death?”

Cui Mingjin choked on his words.

“When she departed, she already felt she was very happy,” Jiang Qunyu continued. “If not for you, she would have already gained twenty-seven new years of a carefree life, completely free from being bedridden year-round.”

Instead of her current state—neither truly living, nor truly dead.

The moment his voice fell, Jiang Qunyu suddenly perceived the strangeness in Cui Mingjin’s words.

But before he could wrap his mind around it, all of a sudden, the endless darkness from earlier expanded completely.

Simultaneously, within the domain, a torrential chill of snow fell silently.

The snowflakes were condensed with sword intent—fine, dense, and carrying a murderous intent meant to sever everything—as they shot toward Cui Mingjin and Yun Shuangjian.

With her black hair cascading behind her, Yun Shuangjian’s vacant eyes shifted slightly. Seeing the sky full of falling snow, she pushed Cui Mingjin away almost purely out of instinct.

Countless snowflakes resembling icy blades rained down upon her body.

The overwhelming sword intent sent her flying, crashing heavily into the distant part of the domain as she spat out a mouthful of blood.

Cui Mingjin’s expression changed drastically, letting out a heart-wrenching shriek: “No!”

He had not yet resolved that young woman’s resentment; it mattered not if the young woman’s soul scattered, but Yun Shuangjian absolutely could not die.

Was there no Heavenly Dao? He was the one who refined the creature born of resentment, he was the one who molded the deity statue, and he was the one who exploited human greed to turn Mirror Lake City into a dead city.

But all of these deeds were done by him, they had nothing to do with Yun Shuangjian. All the sins belonged to him, completely unrelated to Yun Shuangjian.

Yet Wei Xun did not look at him. He raised his wrist slightly in mid-air, and his long sword broke through the snow out of the darkness without a single shred of hesitation. His figure was like a cold moon fleeting through shadows, his pure white robes tracing a stark, frosty white arc through the pitch-black domain as the sword let out a clear, resonant cry.

The falling snow across the sky suddenly ground to a halt. In the very next second, it all shattered completely around Yun Shuangjian.

Wei Xun lowered his gaze, his hand holding the sword incredibly steady as the blade slipped forward gently. There was no violence; on the contrary, this was the very first time Jiang Qunyu sensed an almost tender quality within Wei Xun’s sword intent.

The light was exceptionally faint, like falling snow melting into the night.

Cui Mingjin’s lips were deathly pale. He blinked, his voice dropping to a whisper: “…She, she is also your mother, ah.”

Yun Shuangjian’s vacant eyes closed gently. Beginning from her fingertips, her body started transforming into specks of glowing light, like fragments of snow scattered by the wind, slowly rising and dissolving into the darkness.

Cui Mingjin stumbled forward, his own figure beginning to dissolve bit by bit as he walked.

He had reached his absolute limit; he too was about to die.

Refusing to accept this end, he kept walking forward, glaring with venomous malice at the youth’s solitary, aloof back in the distance.

He thought to himself that he ought to tell Wei Xun the truth.

To tell him that he had personally slain his own birth mother.

To leave him trapped in this remorse for all eternity, never able to forget this bitter taste.

But before he could even walk over, the spot where Yun Shuangjian had just dissolved began to coalesce into two distinct spiritual silhouettes once more.

Cui Mingjin froze in his tracks.

He blinked, staring blankly at one of those silhouettes—a figure both familiar and foreign—as tears flooded his eyes without warning.

“Shuangjian…” Cui Mingjin’s heart skipped a violent beat. Having not seen her for so many years, he had almost forgotten his wife’s true appearance.

She stood there, her features gentle and her smile shallow, looking exactly as she did twenty-seven years ago.

His face was drenched in tears: “Shuangjian, it has been a very long time since we last met.”

He instinctively lowered his head, his lips trembling, and only after a long while did he murmur: “…I’ve grown so old.”

The vacancy in Yun Shuangjian’s eyes was entirely gone. She was as soft as water, and after a long moment, she said, “Mingjin, I ought to hate you.”

Hearing this, Cui Mingjin froze.

The obsession that had sustained him for twenty-seven years turned into an absolute joke, dissolving completely under this single sentence from Yun Shuangjian.

“It’s fine, it’s fine even if you hate me.” The corners of Cui Mingjin’s lips turned upward. “As long as I love you, that’s enough.”

As long as she still held feelings for him—whether it was hatred or love—he accepted it all.

Cui Mingjin finally died, scattering away into this snowstorm.

The dark domain vanished.

Countless red illusions converged from all directions of the underground palace, transforming into streams of souls that attached themselves to the blade of the Soul-Eater sword, waiting for Wei Xun to send them into the Forgotten River.

Wei Xun lowered his gaze, drawing out that green paper lantern from his cosmic bag and holding it out before the young woman: “Even if a lantern is retrieved, it is no longer the same lantern. Your lantern has already broken. The waters of the Forgotten River are very cold, and the sky is pitch-black, making it hard to see—use mine instead.”

The young woman was beautiful; her slightly upturned eyes were not overbearing, and her features were gentle and soft. Even though she was merely a soul form, she remained as stunning as a pear blossom freshly blooming beneath the moonlight.

She looked at Wei Xun, then looked at the lantern in his hand.

She extended her hand and took it.

The light from Wei Xun’s green paper lantern went out. Simultaneously, a hand-held lantern appeared in the young woman’s grasp. This lantern emitted a faint, eerie glow, looking identical to the one she used to carry all those years ago.

She stared at the lantern for a very long time.

Then, she lifted her head and looked toward Wei Xun.

“Could you… tell me your name?”

“Wei Xun,” Wei Xun replied.

“What about him? Is he your friend?”

The young woman nodded, her gaze shifting to the black mist ball nestled in his embrace.

Wei Xun let out an “mm,” his tone carrying a softness he hadn’t even noticed himself: “Yes, his name is Jiang Qunyu.”

Jiang Qunyu then manifested into Wei Xun’s likeness, standing right by his side.

The two of them stood side by side—two identical faces, yet possessing entirely distinct dispositions.

The young woman smiled softly, saying with a hint of regret, “My eyes are no longer very good, I cannot see the appearances of you two clearly.”

She looked toward Wei Xun and smiled, “Fortunately, I was the one who gave you your name.”

After a good while, she asked again, “What about me? What is my name?”

Wei Xun paused. After a long silence, he said, “You are Lin Qing.”

Lin Qing smiled. She repeated it softly, her features gentle: “Lin Qing, ah…”

“Do you wish to kill them?” Wei Xun asked her.

Lin Qing did not answer him. After a long while, she asked Wei Xun, “Ah Xun, how is it that you died when you are still so small?”

Wei Xun’s fingertips resting at his side curled slightly.

Lin Qing watched him silently for a brief moment, ultimately transforming into a spectral shadow that gently attached itself to the Soul-Eater sword.

Jiang Qunyu didn’t feel very good either.

The exact instant Wei Xun’s sword pierced into Yun Shuangjian’s soul form, he had caught sight of countless memory fragments.

Yet they did not belong to Yun Shuangjian; they belonged to Wei Xun.

Perhaps due to being born with a supreme Ice Spiritual Root, even while he was still within his mother’s womb, he was able to see and remember everything in the world.

Through Wei Xun’s eyes, Jiang Qunyu saw Lin Qing and Wei Lan.

During winter in the mortal realm, the sky grew dark early. Fearing that Wei Lan wouldn’t be able to see clearly, Lin Qing would always carry a green paper lantern, standing beneath the eaves to wait for him.

Neither of them possessed a disposition that enjoyed reading, but because they were expecting their very first child, they gathered many books from the external bookstores to choose a name for the unborn child together.

Sometimes the nights were chilly, and fearing his wife would freeze, Wei Lan would secretly use his spiritual energy to warm her body after Lin Qing fell asleep.

…

Those scenes were so warm, resembling a dream that would never come to an end.

Which only served to emphasize how absolute Wei Lan’s departure was on that later day.

Lin Qing died.

Wei Lan forgot.

The only one who remembered all of this was Wei Xun, who had not yet been born at the time.

In the distance, the voices of Wen Xingyao and Shen Peiqiu conversing could be heard.

They were currently walking toward this direction, their footsteps drawing closer and closer.

Jiang Qunyu suddenly turned around, raising his hands to cover Wei Xun’s eyes in a gesture that was almost an embrace.

“I feel a bit like crying,” he said, his voice muffled. “Most likely, the tears will flow from your eyes.”

Wei Xun’s lips were pressed into a very tight line. He remained completely motionless, allowing that hand to rest over his eyelids.

After a long while, his long eyelashes fluttered gently, and he asked in a raspy voice, “Jiang Qunyu, are you this good to everyone?”

Including him.

Jiang Qunyu remained silent and did not answer; he only felt as though Wei Xun’s tears had fallen upon his own soul form as well.