Chapter 32: She Nurtured Herself Back to Life
Such a gloomy place, and a gloomy black bird, it didn’t bode well.
But it was the system’s guidance.
The black bird didn’t seem to wait for anyone. Li Yu followed closely, not daring to fall behind.
She had been right; the bird’s wings were damaged, clearly burned.
Such damage would prevent an ordinary bird from flying, yet this bird not only flew, but flew incredibly fast.
Soaring through the air, unobstructed by any terrain, free and unrestrained.
Li Yu, however, had to navigate the ruined streets and alleys, cursing under her breath.
Damn system, damn guidance, so hard to follow!
This wasn’t an open space; obstacles were everywhere. Making her chase a flying bird without granting her temporary flight capabilities, was this even humane?
She didn’t know how heavy the resentment in the city was, but the resentment in her heart was quite substantial!
But no matter how resentful, she obediently followed the black bird, like every night she worked overtime, her hands diligently completing tasks while her mind cursed her boss.
As she chased, the scenery around her changed.
It wasn’t a change of location, but more like a shift in time, as if she had stepped into a different era.
She was entering a new illusion.
The oppressive resentment seemed to be dispelled by the breeze she created as she chased the bird.
Light appeared.
The desolate city, like a scorched wasteland, seemed poised for rebirth with the arrival of spring.
The moment the first rays of the sun, devoid of warmth, touched her, she heard human voices again.
Noisy, bustling, the City of the Undying from three hundred years ago.
The black bird landed on a roof, looking back in the direction it came from.
The faint golden system light on its body disappeared.
Li Yu stopped and followed its gaze.
A long procession was approaching.
The people on either side of the road were chattering, some joyful, some disdainful.
Li Yu gleaned some information from their words.
The procession was a marriage escort from the Huai Kingdom.
They were escorting a princess named Qin Ruoheng.
—”After all these years of fighting, they still sent a princess over?”
Someone said this, not afraid of being overheard by the procession.
The escort, with its seemingly endless dowry, slowly made its way through the bustling street towards the palace gates, under the watchful eyes of countless onlookers.
A faint golden light landed on the princess’ carriage, similar to the sunlight, almost invisible.
Li Yu tried to push through the crowd and follow, but realized it was just an illusion.
Her hands couldn’t touch anything.
She quickly caught up with the procession and followed it through the palace gates.
The scene blurred momentarily, and when her vision cleared, she was in a bedchamber.
The system’s guidance was gone. Li Yu looked around, confused.
She saw the black bird again.
It was perched on a plum blossom tree, its broken tail feathers swaying among the lush green leaves.
Someone opened a window behind her, and the black bird flew inside.
Li Yu quickly followed, peering through the open window.
She saw the black bird fly into an ornate birdcage and transform into a pure white bird.
Its wings were no longer damaged, its dark red eyes turned emerald green, and its long, white tail feathers drooped elegantly.
No one noticed the bird’s transformation. The maid who had opened the window placed a small basin of water nearby, watering the flowers on the windowsill, chatting and laughing with the young woman applying makeup at the dressing table.
Li Yu reached out and, confirming that the walls were also illusory, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and walked through the wall.
So strange!
She walked to the dressing table.
The bronze mirror didn’t reflect her image but showed the reflection of the young woman.
The princess looked no older than fifteen or sixteen, her delicate features carrying a youthful innocence that couldn’t be concealed by makeup.
She placed the last hairpin in her hair, stood up, walked to the birdcage, and fed the bird inside.
“Princess, what do you think the southern kingdom is up to?” The maid finished watering the flowers, placed the basin back in its corner, walked to the princess, and muttered, “They specifically requested you for marriage, but they’ve been ignoring you since you arrived. It has been half a month, and you haven’t even met a single young lord, let alone discussed marriage.”
“Isn’t that good?” The young woman smiled nonchalantly.
Perhaps influenced by the illusion, Li Yu suddenly felt a strange connection with the young woman.
She sensed her calm demeanor and heard her inner thoughts.
Being ignored is good, Qin Ruoheng thought.
If only it could last forever.
The southern kingdom’s envoys specifically requested her for marriage not because of her beauty or character, but because she was her father’s most beloved daughter.
From the moment her father agreed, she was destined to be a pawn in their game.
Before leaving the Huai Kingdom, her father told her that this was unavoidable.
He had secured a promise that she would only marry the next ruler of the southern kingdom.
This way, even in a foreign land, she wouldn’t be mistreated.
Whoever she married would become the next ruler. It sounded like protection, but in reality, it made her a prize to be fought over.
Since she had no choice in the matter, what difference did it make whether she met them or not?
She hoped those young lords would take their time, allowing her to enjoy this peace a little longer.
When she eventually married, she didn’t expect love, just mutual respect and a peaceful life.
Sensing these thoughts, looking at the faint smile on the girl’s face, Li Yu felt a mix of emotions.
To understand these things at such a young age, she must be a sensitive and insightful girl.
This was just an illusion; Li Yu knew this princess’s fate—a decisive leap from the city walls.
She wondered how this seemingly indifferent young princess could become so resolute.
As Li Yu was lost in thought, the seasons shifted around her.
The plum blossoms outside bloomed and withered, the plums fell and vanished.
Spring, summer, autumn, and winter cycled three times in a blink of an eye.
Figures came and went, kites flew in the sky, but it was all a blur, nothing truly clear.
The woman in the mirror looked slightly older but still as beautiful as a flower.
That year, Qin Ruoheng, the princess of the Huai Kingdom, was escorted out of the quiet bedchamber with great ceremony.
As Qin Yuan had said, the princess married the most prominent young lord of the southern kingdom—Mo Yijingxing.
But the reality was slightly different from the story.
Qin Ruoheng wasn’t frail at all. During those youthful days awaiting her marriage, she would fly kites with her maid from the Huai Kingdom and use a long pole to knock down plums from the tree in the courtyard under the bright sun.
She was proper in public but lively in private.
But this liveliness gradually faded after she became the young lord’s wife.
She no longer had just one maid; countless eyes watched her every move, as if searching for faults.
She was repeatedly reprimanded by the palace matrons, and even her maid from the Huai Kingdom suffered because of her occasional playfulness.
To protect her maid, she gave her enough money to live comfortably and sent her back to the Huai Kingdom.
After that, she suppressed her childlike nature and gradually became the perfect, faultless wife.
Even then, she still felt that this life wasn’t so bad.
It was just a bit more restrictive than before, but her days were still peaceful, and she was well provided for.
She heard that the young lord had other women, but she didn’t care. After all, she didn’t have feelings for him either; she was just a trophy he had won in his power struggles. It was best if there were no emotions between them.
She could play the role of a virtuous wife, cooperate with him in their public displays of affection, in exchange for a peaceful life.
The seasons changed quickly in the illusion.
But time seemed to pass both slowly and quickly for Qin Ruoheng.
Li Yu occasionally heard her inner thoughts, repeated phrases of “it’s fine” and “this is good too.”
She knew she was nothing in the southern kingdom, so she was always cautious, yielding and compromising whenever possible.
She seemed to be trying hard to forgive everything.
The young lord’s indifference, the servants’ reprimands, and the whispers of gossip.
She maintained her calm demeanor, like a resilient piece of cotton, comforting herself, absorbing every ounce of malice directed at her.
But Li Yu, connected to her emotions, could sense that she was hurting, becoming increasingly quiet and withdrawn.
Unable to return home, with no one to confide in, she often talked to the caged bird that had been her companion for years.
She started having dreams from her childhood.
In her dreams, she chased after her father, looking up at the kites in the sky.
The kites flew so high, a height she could never reach.
Her mother smiled and asked if she was happy.
She nodded, then, pointing at a kite, said, “But it can’t fly any higher; the string is too short.”
In these recurring dreams, her mother would always bring a pair of scissors and cut the kite string.
Her father sometimes tried to stop her, sometimes frowned, sometimes smiled.
She would look at the freed kite and ask loudly, “Is it free now?”
“Yes!” her mother would reply with a smile.
“Where will it fly to?” she would ask again.
Her mother would say, “I don’t know, but somewhere far, far away.”
The kite would drift away in the wind, gradually disappearing like her childhood dreams upon waking.
The princess, more sensitive than most, dreamed of the cut kite string more and more frequently.
The faces of her loved ones blurred with time, but the kite remained unchanged, always flying high and far, always finding its freedom.
She seemed unable to see her own deep-seated yearning.
Or perhaps, she knew what she wanted but also knew she didn’t deserve it.
So, she continued living her seemingly peaceful life.
The years passed quickly in the illusion. Li Yu didn’t know how long she had been there. Feeling tired, she sat down outside Qin Ruoheng’s bedchamber.
She couldn’t tell if these illusions were a danger within the City of the Undying or a backstory provided by the system.
Whatever it was, this past appearing here must have significance.
Why the blood sacrifice had turned into a spirit summoning formation, trapping the souls of the city, might be connected to this past.
She patiently observed everything in the room, watching the uneventful life of this unfamiliar woman unfold before her.
She lost track of time, only able to judge the passing years by the princess’s birthdays.
When Qin Ruoheng turned twenty-one, Mo Yijingxing became the ruler of the southern kingdom.
The princess from the Huai Kingdom, as the other Huai princess had said, became the queen.
Even then, there was no love between them.
Li Yu doubted the “loving couple” Qin Yuan spoke of ever existed.
Qin Ruoheng had never felt any affection for this place.
The only happy times she experienced in this foreign land were the three years before her marriage.
She loved the big tree outside her window, the plum blossoms in winter, the plums in summer, the quiet solitude, and flying kites with her maid.
But those days were gone.
Now the queen, no one dared reprimand her. Seemingly free, she was also isolated, placed on a pedestal far removed from everyone else.
The young lord, now the ruler, no longer had any restraints and quickly took other women.
Within a few years, she was surrounded by toddlers and beautiful women constantly vying for attention.
Everything was changing, yet nothing seemed different for her.
What she desired, she couldn’t have, and what she disliked wouldn’t disappear.
When Qin Ruoheng turned twenty-three, rumors spread about her inability to bear children.
Some people didn’t want her to be queen.
She didn’t want it either, but her status dictated her position.
Unless one day, the two kingdoms were no longer allies…
To silence the rumors, the king visited her bedchamber for the first time.
He didn’t ask for her consent, and she didn’t offer any, just accepting her powerlessness like a puppet.
After that, perhaps because of her obedience and unassuming nature, the man who had ignored her for so long suddenly noticed her virtues.
He talked about his struggles, apologized for his past neglect, and claimed it was all because he feared the unstable relationship between the two kingdoms and her eventual departure.
He held her hands, apologized, and promised to treat her better.
Qin Ruoheng didn’t believe him but gave him the response he wanted.
Having pleased the king, she received things she hadn’t had before.
For the first time in this foreign land, she felt cared for.
Li Yu sensed a flicker of happiness and contentment.
But there was still no love.
Qin Ruoheng seemed to be enjoying the feeling of being cared for,
It wasn’t pure happiness, but a complex emotion that Li Yu couldn’t decipher.
A few months later, Qin Ruoheng became pregnant.
Mo Yijingxing, upon hearing the news, was overjoyed.
He seemed to dislike the title “Queen Qin,” so on that joyous occasion, he bestowed upon her the character “Mei.”
He said that the first time he saw her, she was standing beneath a plum blossom tree.
Snow fell on her shoulders as she gazed at the blossoms, not noticing him.
He had remembered her since then.
Qin Ruoheng smiled, expressing her joy, but her heart remained unmoved.
Her emotions were so calm, so indifferent.
The more Li Yu sensed her feelings, the more she wondered why, years later, when the kingdom fell, she chose to die rather than leave that gilded cage.
She must have known her child had been chosen as a sacrifice.
Why did she stay?
Li Yu couldn’t find the answer, just continued watching.
Another year passed.
“Consort Mei,” as bestowed by the king, gave birth to a young prince.
That day, a strange phenomenon appeared in the sky.
As the baby’s first cry echoed, a faint golden light, like an aurora, flowed across the starless night sky.
Some said it was a good omen, others a bad omen.
Li Yu vaguely remembered that it was called something-something soul, a unique power system specific to the world of Demon Bone.
【The Heavenly Soul Yang Spirit is extremely rare. It’s not a constitution, but an innate spiritual essence!】
【Those born with the Heavenly Soul Yang Spirit possess exceptional cultivation talent, but they also attract demons and are essentially…prime targets for wicked cultivators.】
Thanks for the correction…
【You’re welcome!】
Anyway, it was an extremely rare innate spiritual essence.
The reason Weisheng Xuanzhu brought him to Mount Chao Yao was precisely because of this rare talent.
The golden light in the sky, neither good nor bad omen, shocked the entire southern kingdom.
Those with ulterior motives used this opportunity to denounce Qin Ruoheng and her newborn child as demons.
Soon after, Qin Ruoheng’s palace became a cold palace. [T/N: (Cold Palace) refers to a secluded part of the palace where disgraced consorts or concubines were sent to live.]
Qin Ruoheng heard from the servants that it was because the High Priest insisted her child was a demon spawn.
She was still the queen, just a queen living in the cold palace, unattended.
She didn’t seem surprised, just slightly disappointed, not truly saddened.
Her child wasn’t given a name by the king, which meant he would also remain in the cold palace with her.
If Li Yu’s perception was correct, Qin Ruoheng seemed to care for a moment, then quickly accepted it.
She held her child, sat weakly on the bed, and stared at the bird in the cage.
It was the bird her mother had given her before she left the Huai Kingdom.
She suddenly thought of her younger self, of the desires she had suppressed and almost forgotten.
She named her child “Chu,” seemingly making a decision.
This was good, she told herself. No one would scrutinize her every move anymore.
She could start anew with her child.
That day, Qin Ruoheng walked to the window, opened the birdcage, and released the white bird.
The bird perched on the windowsill, tilting its small head, its green eyes looking at her questioningly.
“I can’t take care of you anymore,” she said, stroking the bird’s head. “You can go wherever you want.”
The bird was silent for a moment, then flew away.
Li Yu instinctively took two steps forward. The sun and moon cycled several times, and the world was covered in snow.
The bird returned.
Li Yu saw its white tail feathers in the distance.
A faint spiritual light flickered in its beak as it gently landed on the windowsill, carrying a plum blossom branch.
Qin Ruoheng, hearing the bird, quickly opened the window.
She was dressed simply, her hair held up by a single jade hairpin. Her life seemed difficult, but her eyes lit up with joy as she looked at the bird.
She took the branch from the bird, smiled, and thanked it softly.
She took the branch outside, grabbed a small shovel, and planted it in the ground.
She asked the bird if it would grow into a big tree.
The bird chirped, flapping its wings. She didn’t understand but took it as a “yes.”
Although the branch didn’t take root, Li Yu could sense that the woman who planted it, in a quiet, forgotten place, was nurturing her own dying heart back to life.
The cold palace offered only basic necessities, devoid of human warmth.
But Qin Ruoheng seemed more alive than before.
The white bird she released would secretly bring her small, useful, or useless trinkets.
She carefully collected them, some becoming toys for her child, others decorations for the empty room.
The bird was small, but its strength was surprising, often bringing things she wouldn’t have thought possible.
They weren’t heavy, but for such a small bird, it seemed impossible.
She couldn’t help but ask, “Are you a demon?”
This fleeting thought was met with a nod from the bird.
She stared at it, stunned for a moment, then smiled, not afraid, just happy.
“That’s wonderful, then you can stay with us forever.”
She had nothing to fear, Qin Ruoheng thought.
She was her father’s kite, flown far, far away, but the string was never cut.
So what if the people of the southern kingdom saw her as a demon?
Her fate was still in her father’s hands.
As long as the two kingdoms remained at peace, she would be safe.
The cold palace offered freedom, albeit limited, but it was still better than the gilded cage she had lived in before.
If there was anything to fear, it was the possibility of this bird, her only companion, leaving one day.
But now there was no need to worry.
Demons had long lifespans; it would surely stay with her until she was old and gray.
At that moment, Qin Ruoheng was happier than she had ever been.
But Li Yu knew that neither freedom nor a peaceful life was her destiny.
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