Chapter 132: Echoes of the Past
This seemed to be a recurring dream, an endless loop. Bai Jingxue found herself back in the classroom, then she realized that while Lü Qingyan’s consciousness slept, she had a measure of control over Lü Qingyan’s body.
Perhaps she could use this opportunity to break free.
The dream was replaying their past. If she could change the course of events, perhaps they could escape.
It was just a theory. She wasn’t confident, but if she succeeded, then her instincts were correct.
Lü Qingyan was asleep. She was alone. She took a deep breath, calming herself, then she waited.
There were many moments she could change.
The summer heat was oppressive. Lü Qingyan often napped during lunch break. That was when Bai Jingxue could take control.
It was their final year of high school, the pressure of the upcoming exams a heavy weight on their shoulders. Textbooks formed makeshift walls on their desks, their heads bowed, their focus on their studies. She had been one of them.
She watched her younger self, a familiar yet distant figure, then she refocused. She had to use this opportunity to end the tutoring sessions.
She was about to stand, to announce her decision, when her body refused to obey. Lü Qingyan had woken up.
The classroom wasn’t a good place to nap. The scratching of pens against paper was too distracting. But strangely, during class, the teacher’s voice had been a soothing lullaby.
But she hadn’t been awakened by the noise. She had been startled by a nightmare.
She took a deep breath, then glanced at Bai Jingxue, her gaze lingering for a moment, then she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing.
She opened her math textbook. On the first page, written in neat, elegant handwriting, was a message:
You have to work hard, or your snowflake will melt away.
She took another deep breath, then turned the page, her own anxieties resurfacing, her focus returning to her studies.
Bai Jingxue, trapped within Lü Qingyan’s body, staring at the message, her heart aching, felt a pang of guilt.
Logically, this was just a dream. Even if they were separated here, it wouldn’t affect their real lives.
But those high school days had been so busy, so stressful. Lü Qingyan, her foundation weaker than the other students’, had worked even harder. Bai Jingxue hadn’t known how to help. And she hadn’t been ready.
Time passed, and Bai Jingxue watched as Lü Qingyan placed the love letter in the wrong pocket.
Night fell, and Lü Qingyan, exhausted, fell asleep. Bai Jingxue, taking control, opened her eyes.
She quietly got out of bed, intending to destroy the letter.
But the few thin pages felt heavier than anything she had ever held. It was a testament to Lü Qingyan’s love, a pure, unadulterated affection, untainted by any ulterior motives.
She had received this letter in the past, but she hadn’t seen its creation.
During the first iteration of this dream, she hadn’t had any memories. Her understanding had been incomplete.
She watched as Lü Qingyan, in her memories, had quietly gotten out of bed, careful not to wake Bai Jingxue, the dim light of a small lamp illuminating her face as she had rewritten the letter, draft after draft, discarding pages filled with carefully crafted words, her frustration growing, her determination unwavering.
She had lost track of time, and a glance at her phone had revealed that it was already three in the morning.
She had looked like she had committed a crime.
But a young girl’s love was always a worthy cause.
Bai Jingxue, after a long moment of silence, carefully placed the letter back in its original hiding spot.
She relived their university days, their happiness a bittersweet ache, then the struggles of entering the workforce, the pain of her family’s constant disapproval.
She had expected these memories to bring her sadness, but she had simply watched, a silent observer, her lips curving into a small smile only during the happy moments, the memories of her time with Lü Qingyan.
Perhaps because she was seeing her past through Lü Qingyan’s eyes, she no longer felt the same resentment towards her family. Or perhaps, being in Lü Qingyan’s body, she didn’t want Lü Qingyan to feel that pain.
She had found a strange peace.
But what about Lü Qingyan, trapped within her own body? Was she reliving Bai Jingxue’s pain?
The thought made her anxious, but she couldn’t find a way to communicate with Lü Qingyan, not until they were reincarnated.
But they were separated, their animal forms small and insignificant, their locations distant.
She hadn’t been able to reach Lü Qingyan, not even when the Demon Lord had found her.
One dark and windy night, the little dog had snuck out of the Demon Palace, making her way to the Ejian Sect, only to be captured and thrown into a small, dark room.
The black cat had made a promise to the little dog: if the Sword Saint and the Demon Lord became friends, they could be together again.
Bai Jingxue had almost forgotten about that promise, but it had sparked an idea. Instead of trying to separate Luo Nianshang and the Demon Lord in the dream, why not push them together?
She knew her own stubborn nature. She wouldn’t break a promise.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she had found an opportunity to control Lü Qingyan’s body. She had then rushed towards Luo Nianshang’s room.
Luo Nianshang, still awake, had been surprised to see the little dog enter her room, but Bai Jingxue, her time limited, had grabbed Luo Nianshang’s pant leg with her teeth, pulling at it insistently, then she had used her paw to write a message on the floor: “The Demon Lord likes you.”
The message, written in surprisingly neat characters, had stunned Luo Nianshang into silence.
Bai Jingxue, seeing a flicker of anger in Luo Nianshang’s eyes, had quickly added another message: “She’s not just interested in your beauty. She truly likes you.”
Then, her control over Lü Qingyan’s body had faded. She hadn’t known if her plan would work, but the next day, Luo Nianshang had gone to the Demon Palace.
Several days had passed, and Luo Nianshang hadn’t returned. Bai Jingxue’s hope dwindled, her heart sinking. Perhaps she had been wrong.
Then, her vision blurred, as if a thick fog had descended, its tendrils reaching for her, obscuring everything.
She felt a wave of drowsiness, but she was worried about Lü Qingyan. She forced her eyes open, her gaze searching, finding Lü Qingyan sleeping beside her. She reached out, her hand grasping Lü Qingyan’s, her grip firm, then, reassured, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the darkness.
The evil god, in the real world, felt her power returning to Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan.
Distracted, she felt a coldness spreading through her body, ice encasing her limbs.
Luo Nianshang’s attacks were powerful, and she had been burning her life force to prevent the evil god from escaping Cang Xi, her efforts aided by the Demon Lord. The evil god was struggling.
She understood the rules of this world. She had to change them to defeat them.
But Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan were about to wake up. Her advantage would be gone.
She severed her frozen arm, a new one quickly regenerating.
She watched as Luo Nianshang, weakened by her sacrifice, stumbled, the Demon Lord catching her, supporting her. The sight of their unity, their shared purpose
was a painful reminder of her own isolation.
This world was so unfair. She had been born into a cycle of hatred and destruction, while everyone else seemed to be happy.
She hated this world, its beauty a mockery of her own suffering. But she couldn’t escape it. She was nothing more than discarded remnants of Er Ya’s divinity, a vessel for the previous evil god’s painful memories.
Her hatred intensified, the flowers around them blooming, their scent cloying, their beauty a mask for their insidious nature.
Luo Nianshang, her hand covering the Demon Lord’s mouth and nose, protecting her from the poisonous fumes, saw blood on her palm, and she whispered, her voice weak, “I’m sorry.”
The Demon Lord’s heart ached, and she wanted to scold Luo Nianshang for her recklessness, her foolishness, but all she said was, “It’s alright.”
The evil god, enraged, had initially planned to flee, but now, she wanted to assert her dominance, to remind them of her power.
She began burning her memories, her divinity, the flowers around them blooming even more profusely, their numbers growing, until they formed a sea of color.
Luo Nianshang’s eyes narrowed, and she drew her sword, creating a wall of ice, containing the flowers.
The evil god chuckled, her own body, like a burning candle, melting from the bottom up. “Protecting those mortals, preventing me from spreading my influence, enduring my attacks…” she said, her voice laced with a mocking amusement. “Are you trying to prolong your own suffering?”
She had used the mortals of Cang Xi as bait, hoping to distract Luo Nianshang, and it had worked, but she wasn’t happy.
She had once dreamed of someone like Luo Nianshang saving her, but her dreams had been replaced by hatred, by an all-consuming resentment.
The flowers’ petals detached, their descent halted, as they coalesced, forming a sword, its blade a swirling mass of color, its beauty masking its lethal nature.
Luo Nianshang, her jaw clenched, was about to sacrifice her own soul when she felt a surge of energy, a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see the Demon Lord, her face pale, her voice weak but firm. “Go,” she said.
Luo Nianshang, her strength renewed, her resolve hardening, her sword humming in response, its blade coated in frost, raised it towards the sky.
Countless ice swords materialized, their points gleaming.
The flower sword and the rain of ice clashed, their power shaking the very foundations of the world, the light of their collision blinding, then silence fell, the world still and quiet.
The vines withered, the statues throughout Cang Xi crumbling into dust, and the sleeping mortals, their minds freed, slowly awakened.
The ice melted, the flower petals and ice crystals falling together, a strangely beautiful sight, a gentle rain of color, masking the devastation.
The evil god was gone. Luo Nianshang, her body weakened, her life force depleted, collapsed, falling from the sky.
The Demon Lord, using the last of her strength, caught her, then her own body gave out, and they fell together, landing with a thud, the impact softened by the thick layer of petals. She held Luo Nianshang close, protecting her.
Luo Nianshang stirred, her eyes fluttering open, her voice weak and confused. “Where… where am I?”
The Demon Lord, seeing Luo Nianshang’s vulnerable state, her heart aching, but also filled with a fierce pride, tightened her embrace, her voice a soft murmur. “You’re in the mortal realm,” she said, “the realm you love so much.”
Luo Nianshang, who had thought she was going to die, felt a surge of relief, a quiet joy.
The evil god’s aura was gone, but Luo Nianshang couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t over.
But she was too weak to even stand.
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan, waking up, saw the flower petals falling like snow, the evil god’s aura gone.
Lü Qingyan, sniffing the air, her voice urgent, said, “They’re over there.”
Bai Jingxue, following Lü Qingyan’s gaze, her heart pounding, took to the sky, Lü Qingyan in her arms.
They landed a short distance away, their eyes meeting, then they stopped, their gazes fixed on the two figures lying amidst the petals.
Lü Qingyan’s brow suddenly furrowed, her voice filled with alarm. “The evil god isn’t dead,” she said. “She’s heading towards the Ejian Sect!”
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