Chapter 34: Where the Kite Went Didn’t Matter
The little protagonist’s blackening value made Li Yu deeply appreciate the complexities of human nature.
It increased with joy, with tears, with jealousy, with fear, fluctuating so randomly it was a headache.
And now, it even increased at the sight of the Spirit Severing Hairpin in her hand.
What was this all about?!
Although Li Yu knew that pondering such things in this dangerous place wasn’t helpful, she couldn’t help but freeze, searching for answers.
As their eyes met in silence, Mu Tao took the hairpin from Li Yu’s hand.
The removal of the hairpin jolted Li Yu back to reality.
She saw Mu Tao frowning, her eyes reddened, her body leaning closer as she stood on tiptoe and carefully replaced the hairpin in Li Yu’s hair.
Mu Tao then took two steps back, her lips pursed, her head lowered.
“This disciple is useless…” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
Seeing this, Li Yu wanted to comfort her but didn’t know what to say.
She finally understood the reason for the two-point increase in blackening value.
Mu Tao was blaming herself, feeling guilty for her own inadequacy, for forcing Li Yu to risk Heavenly Tribulation by removing the Spirit Severing Hairpin.
The little girl didn’t know that Li Yu had removed the hairpin deliberately.
The system still needed her to change this world; surely it could manage a little deviation from the heavenly laws without consequences.
Even if she did do something reckless, the system wouldn’t allow it.
Li Yu sighed and gently pinched Mu Tao’s cheek.
This gentle touch made Mu Tao look up, her teary eyes filled with guilt and worry.
Li Yu: “I know what I’m doing. I wouldn’t have acted if I couldn’t avoid the laws of heaven.”
Mu Tao sniffled, her eyes red, but didn’t speak.
“It’s true,” Li Yu said, directing Mu Tao’s gaze towards the resentment-filled sky, her tone gentle, like coaxing a child. “See? No tribulation, right?”
Mu Tao looked at the sky for a few seconds, her eyes still filled with tears, lost in thought.
After a moment of silence, she nodded obediently and gently tugged at Li Yu’s sleeve, whispering, “Master, what do we do now…”
As someone who just wanted to lie down and do nothing, this was the question Li Yu dreaded most in this world.
But she had to act like an elder now.
“You said you woke up in the spirit summoning formation?”
Mu Tao nodded repeatedly, her grip on Li Yu’s sleeve tightening as if remembering her fear.
Li Yu frowned slightly.
She hadn’t encountered the force Mu Tao spoke of.
Why did that force knock Mu Tao unconscious and place her in the missing core of the formation? Was it because the formation needed a new core to replenish its energy, and she was the easiest target among the three, or was there another reason?
Whatever the reason, resentment couldn’t harm Mu Tao.
As soon as she regained consciousness, she escaped the formation, thwarting whatever plan that force had.
Wait…
If resentment couldn’t affect Mu Tao, then the force that knocked her unconscious wasn’t resentment!
But what else could it be?
Was it the black bird, or was there someone else here?
Ugh! Better not think about it, too creepy!
For now, they should check out the summoning formation.
Thinking this, Li Yu took Mu Tao’s hand, seeking a bit of comfort herself.
“Let’s go, take me there,” she said, and then, after taking two steps, felt a wave of dizziness.
Accompanied by another sharp pain in her chest.
Mu Tao: “Master!!”
Li Yu stopped, steadied herself with Mu Tao’s help, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.
System, are you okay? Such a strong aftereffect from a single spell!
【Eek!】
Eek? Was cuteness an excuse for incompetence?!
【The host’s ability to sense and control spiritual energy is almost nonexistent. Channeling a large amount of spiritual energy through your meridians is dangerous before you improve this.】
【The system’s assistance is limited; this has been clearly communicated to the host.】
【The host clearly said you wouldn’t blame the system for any consequences TvT.】
Now it was using crying emojis.
Fine, fine, she wouldn’t blame it.
It seemed she had to find a way to improve her cultivation basics. Otherwise, even if she unlocked more advanced spells, using them would be life-threatening.
Li Yu focused on regulating her breathing.
When she recovered and opened her eyes, she saw Mu Tao’s worried, almost tearful expression.
She had made the little protagonist worry again.
Better appease her quickly, or her blackening value would increase again.
“I’m fine, don’t worry.”
“What happened, Master? Why are you suddenly so weak?” Mu Tao’s eyes were red, her voice trembling.
A powerful immortal, crippled by her own spell, how could she explain this to Mu Tao?
As Li Yu pondered, Mu Tao’s voice became more urgent. “Master, please say something, don’t scare me…”
The girl shook her hands gently, afraid of her master disappearing again, yet also afraid of hurting her further, her eyes filled with fear.
“I, I just…” Li Yu thought for a moment. “The injuries I sustained from breaking through my cultivation six months ago haven’t fully healed. I suppressed my spiritual energy to avoid the heavens’ notice earlier, but it aggravated my injuries. I just need some rest.”
Li Yu thought this explanation was reasonable.
At least it was the most reasonable one she could come up with.
But reasonable as it was, she had to change the subject quickly to prevent Mu Tao from feeling too guilty and experiencing another spike in her blackening value.
“This isn’t a safe place. Those shadows are formed from resentment. They’re momentarily deterred, but they might return soon.” Li Yu looked at Mu Tao seriously. “This small injury is nothing. Let’s go and check out the summoning formation.”
Mu Tao opened her mouth as if to say something, but ultimately obeyed, pointing in a direction.
“The formation is that way!” she said softly, placing her hands on Li Yu’s arm. “Be careful, Master, I’ll take you…”
There were no stars or moon here, only ruins as far as the eye could see.
Night was when the city came alive.
They soon encountered more resentment-formed shadows and the earthbound spirits who had died during the massacre.
The shadows ruthlessly attacked the spirits, and some of the resentment formed black flames, “burning” the city that had been burned countless times in the past three hundred years.
Remembering being surrounded by shadows earlier, Li Yu shuddered.
But she quickly realized that the shadows weren’t approaching them this time.
Not only that, but they didn’t even glance at them, either because they hadn’t noticed them or because they saw them as allies.
“Master, up ahead…” Mu Tao, clearly terrified, looked at Li Yu, hesitant to continue.
It was because of Mu Tao.
Her first instinct wasn’t to run but to avoid approaching.
This meant that, in Mu Tao’s mind, these things wouldn’t attack her.
Because of her Demon Bone, the shadows saw her as one of their own, or perhaps simply insignificant.
Finding Mu Tao first was the right move. At least with her, they wouldn’t be chased.
Thank goodness!
Li Yu gently patted Mu Tao’s hand, feigning calmness. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”
Mu Tao leaned closer to Li Yu, frowned, and nodded resolutely.
After a brief hesitation, she took a deep breath and continued walking, supporting Li Yu.
Li Yu actually felt much better, not needing such careful support, nor such a slow pace.
But seeing the worry in her little disciple’s eyes, she decided not to say anything.
Since the blackening value had stabilized, she might as well pretend to be weak and enjoy the little protagonist’s concern.
If she could check favorability ratings, her position in the little protagonist’s heart must be close to that of a mother by now, right?
As Li Yu was feeling smug, the scenery around them shifted.
She focused and looked around.
It wasn’t her imagination; the surroundings had changed!
The resentment in the sky gradually dissipated, and the fleeing earthbound spirits and their shadowy pursuers vanished along with it.
The sky was still dark, but the surroundings were no longer in ruins.
The palace, enclosed by high walls, returned to its former glory from three hundred years ago.
Li Yu recognized this change; it was the black bird’s illusion!
Although slightly surprised, it made sense. If the black bird wanted to show them the past, how could it skip the summoning formation?
Mu Tao: “Master, the surroundings have changed!”
As soon as she spoke, a small, dark figure zipped past them, making Mu Tao scream.
Having experienced this before, although startled, Li Yu quickly recognized the long tail feathers and calmed down.
“Follow it!” Li Yu said without hesitation, activating the speed-enhancing technique.
She hurried after the bird before Mu Tao could even react.
Mu Tao, her eyes wide with surprise, froze for three seconds before running after Li Yu.
“Master! What was that?!”
“That was…”
Just as Li Yu was about to explain, the scene shifted again.
A large, gray stone altar appeared in the distance.
“Master, that altar, that’s the spirit summoning formation!” Mu Tao pointed at the altar. “I woke up there, but it didn’t look like this!”
“It’s an illusion,” Li Yu frowned.
Mu Tao suddenly realized. “This is the blood sacrifice from three hundred years ago!”
Indeed, it was the blood sacrifice.
Many people, dressed in moon-white robes with similar braided hairstyles, knelt around the altar, their faces filled with devotion.
Thousands of red and white candles lined the edge of the altar.
The flickering candlelight illuminated the gray stone.
Hundreds of living sacrifices were tied to wooden pillars with iron chains.
They wore loose white robes, covered in a web of red strings.
Small, moon-shaped copper plates were attached to the strings.
They clinked softly in the wind.
The sacrifices were still conscious, their faces painted with blood-red runes.
Some were silent, seemingly resigned to their fate.
Others cried and pleaded, their cries unanswered.
At the center of the altar was a young child.
The child’s limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, as if broken by brute force.
Thorny vines bound his small body to a pile of firewood, the thorns piercing his thin clothes, the dried bloodstains a dark red—he was curled up, barely conscious.
Even knowing this was just an illusion of an event from three hundred years ago, even knowing that the child would eventually be rescued, even understanding that the past couldn’t be changed,
Li Yu still felt a pang of sympathy.
The wind dispersed the clouds, and the bright moonlight illuminated the altar.
The High Priest, dressed in moon-white robes, slowly raised his hands towards the sky.
Flames erupted at the center of the altar, engulfing the small figure.
The fire burned through the vines, and the small figure instinctively thrashed in pain.
Where the flames hadn’t reached, the moon-shaped copper plates cut into the sacrifices like knives, a silent, relentless torture.
Drops of blood dripped onto the altar, the cries and screams deafening.
A faint golden light flickered within the flames.
A strange excitement appeared in the High Priest’s eyes.
Mu Tao clutched Li Yu’s sleeve. “Master, is…is that Senior Brother?”
Li Yu: “…Yes.”
As she spoke, a white bird flew towards the altar, like a moth to a flame, and plunged into the fire.
Its cultivation was so low, yet it still tried to do something with its meager spiritual power.
Li Yu instinctively took two steps forward, reaching out as if to save it, then saw the faint golden light within the flames brighten momentarily.
At the same time, a golden light enveloped the white bird and flung it away from the altar.
The bird landed, stunned for a moment, then flapped its damaged wings and flew away.
“Kill that demon bird!” the High Priest said coldly.
The general guarding the formation immediately ordered his men to pursue it.
At that moment, the black bird, which had disappeared earlier, landed on the High Priest’s head.
Unnoticed, it glanced back at Li Yu.
No, this time, there was hatred in its eyes, different from before.
Li Yu took a deep breath and looked behind her.
A figure in black robes, their face hidden by a deep hood, stood about twenty feet away, silently watching the altar.
The firelight outlined their vague silhouette.
Li Yu took two steps forward, wanting to see their face, but only saw a starry sky beneath the hood.
It wasn’t a human face.
It was a starry sky, but not the sky one saw when looking up.
Like the vast expanse of the cosmos, vast and lonely, inexplicably terrifying.
Li Yu’s mind reeled, and she stumbled backward until Mu Tao steadied her.
The cries and screams gradually faded.
The crescent moon in the illusion hung directly above the altar.
At the peak of its power, the blood of the sacrifices flowed through the grooves carved into the altar, converging to form a crimson pattern.
“They called it a blood sacrifice, but it was just a spirit summoning formation all along.”
The black bird’s voice was raspy as it looked at the moon.
A blinding golden light erupted at the center of the altar.
The blood formation rose from the ground, as if trying to trap the moon.
Resentment, like blood-red smoke, was extracted from the sacrifices and drawn into the formation.
Even the moonlight seemed tinged with red.
“The figure in black told him that the child in the cold palace possessed the rarest innate spiritual essence. If he used the child’s soul to create a formation to gather resentment, he would gain unlimited power.”
“This formation isn’t just a simple summoning formation; it can also trap all the evil spirits and souls it gathers.”
“He’s a wicked cultivator; this was an irresistible temptation…”
Using such a soul as the core of a formation to gather and trap resentment was indeed a source of unlimited power for a wicked cultivator.
With such a terrifying formation in the city, and the Huai emperor ordering a massacre, no wonder the resentment lingered.
Li Yu looked at the black bird and frowned. “What about you? Although you carry resentment, you’re still a demon; you can leave this place.”
“…”
“Why have you stayed here?” Li Yu stepped closer and asked in a low voice. “What do you hope to achieve by showing us this past?”
“…”
The black bird didn’t answer, just flew away.
“Follow it!” Li Yu told Mu Tao and hurried after the bird.
Before leaving the altar, she glanced back at the burning core.
She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but within the flames, a force that didn’t belong to that era seemed to be trying to break the illusion.
In a blink, the altar behind her vanished.
Countless fragmented memories shattered and reformed before her eyes.
She felt Mu Tao grab her arm in fear.
When the scene solidified, they were once again outside the locked room.
The black bird flew towards the injured white bird outside the window.
In an instant, they merged.
A flicker of pity appeared in Mu Tao’s eyes. “It’s badly injured!”
Just as Li Yu was about to say something, a cold voice echoed,
“You don’t have the power to change anything.”
She turned towards the source of the voice and once again met that mesmerizing starry sky.
He was looking at the white bird.
More accurately, since he didn’t even have a face, Li Yu wasn’t sure if he could actually see anything, but it felt like he was staring at the bird.
“I can give you power,” he said, his voice emotionless.
The voice was strange and eerie, not quite human, yet clear enough to understand.
The white bird, unable to speak, its green eyes gradually turning a deep crimson as it looked at the black-robed figure.
It seemed to agree without hesitation, without considering the price.
The next second, a star seemed to fall into its body.
Its scorched white feathers gradually turned as dark as night.
The weak little demon gained power that didn’t belong to it.
Everything shattered into fragments again.
These fragmented memories no longer formed a coherent scene but floated randomly in the air.
A fragment flashed before Li Yu’s eyes; she saw Qin Ruoheng.
She was being escorted to Mo Yijingxing’s bedchamber.
After nine years of separation, the man sat beside her, a seemingly apologetic look in his eyes, saying something to her.
Li Yu couldn’t hear anything, but she saw Qin Ruoheng, her eyes red, throw herself into his arms.
A moment later, his expression changed, and he pushed her away.
Half of a silver hairpin was embedded in his chest. He pulled it out, wincing in pain, and pointed his sword at her neck, but a wisp of black smoke restrained him.
As his sword clattered to the floor, Qin Ruoheng picked it up, her face cold.
She stood up and looked down at the man who controlled her fate.
The guards around them tried to approach but were thrown back by the black smoke.
After stabbing him seven times, the man finally stopped struggling.
She pulled out the sword. The black bird landed on her shoulder, and they left the blood-soaked chamber together.
Another memory flashed; the High Priest, dressed in white, collapsed before her.
The black smoke dissipated from his body, his eyes filled with shock and resentment.
Li Yu could see that Qin Ruoheng carried no demonic energy, nor any other strange power.
Her once frail body, now fueled by hatred, had personally killed the people who had driven her to this point.
The black bird stood by her side as she looked at the altar.
The formation was complete, the blood-red light enveloping the altar, preventing her from approaching.
The firewood at the center had burned to ashes.
The night wind carried black snowflakes, swirling them through the air.
But the fire hadn’t been extinguished; it had transformed into golden flames, seemingly eternal, flickering at the center of the unreachable altar.
Her red-rimmed eyes were eerily still.
The black bird, perched on her shoulder, nuzzled against her ear.
It flew up, enveloped in a wisp of black smoke, and transformed into her image.
Still unable to speak, it clumsily controlled the unfamiliar body, raised a hand, pointed at itself, then at her—its index and middle fingers, like small scissors, opened and closed twice before her eyes.
A tearful smile appeared on the face identical to hers, then the figure turned and ran towards the city gates, now surrounded by the Huai army.
The fluttering white dress gradually disappeared into the night, like the swaying tail feathers when it first brought back the flower.
—Even it’s gone, what do I have left?
Li Yu suddenly heard the princess’s inner thoughts.
—Is it free now?
—Yes!
—Where will it fly to?
—I don’t know, but somewhere far, far away.
Mother, where the kite went…didn’t matter…
A kite with a broken string, no matter how high or far it flew…
Would eventually fall.
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