Chapter 127: Whispers of the Past
Luo Nianshang and Bai Jingxue had shared information. When the four of them met, they discussed their findings. Bai Jingxue recounted the evil god’s plan.
After some deliberation, they decided that Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan should remain in Cang Xi to stabilize the situation, also hoping that the evil god would seek out Bai Jingxue again.
Their assumption proved correct. The evil god did return, this time her demeanor frantic.
She invaded Bai Jingxue’s mind, her voice a furious demand. “Where is Luo Nianshang?!”
Bai Jingxue, seeing her rage, her own defenses rising, her voice cold, replied, “She’s gone.”
Luo Nianshang’s absence was a setback, of course. She possessed destiny’s favor. But what truly angered the evil god was Bai Lizhao’s disappearance. The Emperor was a crucial component in her plan to regain her full power.
After a moment of uncontrolled fury, the evil god calmed herself. She had a new plan. It would diminish her potential power, but it was better than nothing.
Delay was dangerous.
She glared at Bai Jingxue, then, her curiosity overriding her anger, she couldn’t resist asking, “You’re also quite strange. You carry my blessing, yet I don’t remember bestowing it upon you.”
Bai Jingxue was confused. “What do you mean?”
“Your flames,” the evil god explained, “and Lü Qingyan’s teleportation… they both carry traces of my power. It’s… unusual.”
She couldn’t understand it. Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan were unpredictable variables. If it weren’t for them, Ouyang Ba would have succeeded.
According to her original plan, Ouyang Ba would have gathered the scattered fragments of her power, and then, when the time was right, she would have returned to reclaim them.
And Ouyang Ba, a weak and easily manipulated individual, had been carefully chosen for this task.
But her plan had been disrupted. Luo Nianshang was a far more formidable opponent. She had achieved her power through her own efforts.
The evil god’s gaze turned cold, her anger simmering.
It was all because of Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan. If it weren’t for them, her past self wouldn’t have chosen to sacrifice herself. If it weren’t for them, Ouyang Ba would have become the most powerful cultivator in the world.
She would have simply killed him and reclaimed her full power, then she would have destroyed this disgusting world.
Bai Jingxue could sense her turbulent emotions, their intensity overwhelming, interspersed with fragmented memories.
She focused her will, trying to access those memories.
Her vision cleared, and she saw Er Ya’s face. No, Er Ya hadn’t been that old. This was the evil god.
She was fifteen or sixteen years old, her body covered in bruises, huddled in the corner of a dirty room. The door opened, and she was dragged out like an animal.
“What do you think of this girl?” a voice asked. “Her birth chart is incredibly unlucky. And she’s suffered a lot. She’ll definitely become a vengeful ghost.”
An old man with a goatee, his gaze lingering on the battered, barely conscious form of the evil god, smiled. “Perfect,” he said. “How many spirit stones?”
The scene shifted, a sea of flowers filling her vision. The evil god, still wearing those ragged clothes, lay amidst the colorful blooms, the bruises on her body fading rapidly.
The evil god, realizing that her memories were being accessed, her anger and frustration resurfacing, her voice laced with a mocking amusement, said, “So, hypocrite, now that you know my past, what will you do?”
Bai Jingxue wasn’t surprised. She knew that suffering was the price of the evil god’s power, that each reincarnation had strengthened her.
The evil god’s hostility was intense, but Bai Jingxue had finally understood.
The evil god, after destroying the world, would be reincarnated, reliving her past suffering, her power growing, her humanity fading, her divinity awakening.
She was trapped in an endless cycle of pain and destruction.
She was tormenting herself.
Hearing Bai Jingxue’s thoughts, the evil god chuckled. “Do you want to know why?” she asked.
Bai Jingxue nodded. She couldn’t lie. The evil god was inside her mind. Her thoughts were transparent.
“I won’t tell you.”
Bai Jingxue sighed. This evil god was truly childish.
Despite the insult, the evil god simply laughed. “If I told you everything,” she said, “what if you killed me?”
“So you can be killed,” Bai Jingxue said. “That’s useful information.”
The evil god was silenced, then she said, her voice laced with a hint of amusement, “You’re not very cute, you know. I don’t understand how Lü Qingyan can stand you.”
That comment struck a nerve. Bai Jingxue’s face hardened, her voice cold. “Get out of my mind,” she said.
The evil god, startled, then her anger flaring, said, “How dare you speak to me like that?!”
Bai Jingxue smiled. “Whose mind do you think you’re in?” she asked, her voice dangerously low.
The evil god stared at her, her eyes wide with shock, as Bai Jingxue’s form grew larger, taller, until she towered over the evil god, a mountain, its peak shrouded in mist.
Then, the mountain raised a foot, its shadow falling upon the evil god.
The evil god couldn’t escape. She was crushed, her form dissolving, but it was just a fragment of her divine consciousness. Its loss was insignificant.
The annoying buzzing in Bai Jingxue’s ears ceased, and she opened her eyes, returning to reality.
“Jingxue, you’re awake!” Lü Qingyan cried, her voice filled with relief. “Did she do anything to you?”
Bai Jingxue got out of bed, shaking her head. “No,” she said. “I hurt her.”
Lü Qingyan, who had been sitting by the bed, watching her anxiously, relaxed, seeing that Bai Jingxue was fine. She had been terrified that Bai Jingxue wouldn’t wake up.
Then she would be truly alone.
Bai Jingxue sipped her tea, then turned to Lü Qingyan, noticing her troubled expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Lü Qingyan smiled. “Just thinking about how to be with you forever,” she said.
Lü Qingyan had always been a smooth talker. Bai Jingxue had often been embarrassed by her blatant flirting in their past life.
But now, they were alone. It was different.
Bai Jingxue sat down on the bed, closer to Lü Qingyan.
“Once this is over,” she said, her voice soft, “perhaps your wish will come true.”
Lü Qingyan’s eyes lit up. “We’ll definitely succeed,” she said, her voice filled with confidence. “Luo Nianshang is the protagonist. And she has destiny’s favor.”
Such an optimistic puppy. But Bai Jingxue was a pessimistic cat. She always considered all possibilities.
“What if we fail?” she asked.
Lü Qingyan blinked, then she rested her head on Bai Jingxue’s lap. “Then I’ll die with you, Jingxue,” she said. “And I’ll haunt you in our next life.”
Bai Jingxue imagined a vengeful ghost clinging to her, its wails echoing through her ears.
But Lü Qingyan, oblivious to Bai Jingxue’s internal shudder, continued, her voice cheerful. “Fang Xin and Fang Yue Lian’s souls can stay by their graves,” she said. “We can do that too. Then we’ll be together forever.”
Fang Xin, trapped in that well, her boredom so intense that it had altered her personality, would probably disagree. Being a ghost wasn’t that great. Their freedom was limited.
Bai Jingxue didn’t understand how this dog could be so optimistic.
She patted Lü Qingyan’s head. “You would probably get bored and turn into a vengeful ghost,” she said.
Lü Qingyan, hearing Bai Jingxue’s teasing tone, rolled over, so she could look up at Bai Jingxue’s face.
Bai Jingxue, feeling the intensity of her gaze, her cheeks flushing slightly, reached out to cover Lü Qingyan’s eyes, but Lü Qingyan simply pushed her hand away. Bai Jingxue quickly looked away.
“How could I be bored with you around?” Lü Qingyan asked, her voice soft. “In high school, I loved watching you. You, sitting by the window… you were more captivating than anything else in the world.”
Bai Jingxue, unable to bear it any longer, covered Lü Qingyan’s mouth with her hand. She couldn’t believe this girl, who had barely passed her language classes, had become such a smooth talker.
Did love truly make people this eloquent?
It was so embarrassing. Thankfully, they were alone.
But her embarrassment was overshadowed by a warmth that spread through her chest. She looked at Lü Qingyan, her eyes wide and innocent, then she slowly removed her hand, then placed it back over Lü Qingyan’s mouth.
“Promise me you won’t say such things out of the blue,” she said.
Lü Qingyan nodded vigorously.
Bai Jingxue, reassured, released her.
Lü Qingyan, feeling a bit warm, sat up, then, a moment later, she was back in Bai Jingxue’s lap.
She stared at Bai Jingxue, a goofy grin spreading across her face.
Bai Jingxue pinched her nose. “What are you thinking about?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement.
“You,” Lü Qingyan mumbled, her words muffled by Bai Jingxue’s hand.
Bai Jingxue, seeing that Lü Qingyan was at it again, sighed, her exasperation mixed with a fondness she couldn’t deny.
She didn’t cover Lü Qingyan’s mouth again.
She glanced at the statue of the Flower Goddess hanging on the wall. “Luo Nianshang’s method seems to be working,” she said. “I don’t think the evil god will be back.”
Lü Qingyan’s eyes lit up. “That’s great!” she exclaimed. “I was so worried you wouldn’t wake up.”
So that was why Lü Qingyan had been by her side every time she had woken up.
Bai Jingxue’s heart warmed. “Don’t be silly,” she said.
“You’re right,” Lü Qingyan said. “You’re the best. I was overthinking.”
She was back to praising Bai Jingxue. Bai Jingxue chuckled. “Should I call you the ‘Queen of Sweet Nothings’?”
Lü Qingyan’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. “Shouldn’t that title belong to you?”
Bai Jingxue frowned, confused. “Me?”
Everyone she had known in her past life had considered her a sharp-tongued critic. She was usually quiet, but when provoked, her words could be incredibly cutting.
“Queen of Sweet Nothings” didn’t suit her at all.
She chuckled. “You’re teasing me.”
Lü Qingyan shook her head, her voice serious. “Do you remember what you said to me after my family kicked me out?”
Bai Jingxue didn’t have to answer. Whether she remembered it or not didn’t matter. Lü Qingyan remembered.
“You’re not one of eleven,” Bai Jingxue had said, her voice soft. “To me, you’re the only one.”
It had been snowing that day, but Lü Qingyan hadn’t felt the cold.
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