Extra 1
“So that’s what this world looks like.”
Lü Qingyan stared at the crack in the sky, the blue beyond hinting at something more.
Bai Jingxue was also surprised. This world only had a single artifact. Once its rules were changed, the world would break free.
They flew upwards, escaping. Outside, lightning flashed, the air thick with the smell of burning. Bai Jingxue expanded her divine sense, but there was no life for miles around.
She opened her eyes, her gaze sweeping over the desolate landscape. This world was empty. The tapestry of cause and effect was gone. A dead world.
“Jingxue! Look! A crystal ball!”
Bai Jingxue turned to see a grave, its tombstone weathered, the inscription illegible. A cracked crystal ball rested on the mound.
She crouched down, examining it. Inside, she saw people moving, then recognized the Ejian Sect.
Someone had created an artifact capable of creating a world.
But why was it here, abandoned? It must be connected to whoever was buried here.
She stared at the simple tombstone, a pang of sadness in her heart.
Rain threatened, and she cast a protective barrier over the grave, then, conjuring a broom, swept away the dust and dirt.
This world was barren, lifeless.
Lü Qingyan, seeing this, joined her, sweeping behind the tombstone. She found a book.
Curious, she picked it up, brushing away the dust, and flipped through it.
She could still read the characters.
Only the first page had writing: “For the destined one. Shatter this, and the world will be reborn.”
She was about to read more when the pages crumbled to dust.
She told Bai Jingxue what she had read.
Bai Jingxue, looking at the crystal ball, suspected this world, contained within the artifact, was the one mentioned in the book.
But what would happen to the people inside if it shattered?
As she pondered this, a crack appeared on the crystal ball, spreading rapidly. The sphere shattered.
The world shifted, and she found herself at the foot of the Ejian Sect’s mountain, the solitary grave beside her.
Lightning flashed, rain poured down, and someone held an umbrella over her.
She turned to see Lü Qingyan smiling.
This one was always so cheerful.
Bai Jingxue, her worries fading, thought, Luo Nianshang and the others will handle it.
She transformed into a cat, shaking off the raindrops, then leaped into Lü Qingyan’s arms, yawning contentedly.
“Qingyan,” she murmured, “let’s go home.”
Lü Qingyan was surprised. “Aren’t you going to investigate?”
Bai Jingxue, curling into a ball, her voice muffled, said, “No. I want to be with you.”
Lü Qingyan’s hand trembled. “Okay!” she exclaimed, a bit too loudly.
As they walked up the mountain, the rain drumming against the umbrella, memories surfaced.
Lü Qingyan, looking at the small black cat, her eyes soft, couldn’t help but ask, “This isn’t like you, Jingxue. Avoiding responsibility.”
In their past life, Bai Jingxue had always been the responsible one, her heart a fortress.
Lü Qingyan had watched helplessly, hoping Bai Jingxue would turn to her, would realize she wasn’t alone.
But she had waited, only to be met with Bai Jingxue’s departure.
Fate had been cruel.
Bai Jingxue twitched her ears, opening one eye. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you settling for me,” she said softly. “Qingyan, I remember now. I made a wish, that your life would be filled with happiness.”
“But I realized I don’t need a god’s blessing to make you happy. I can do it myself.”
“I was too stubborn. Can you forgive me?”
Lü Qingyan’s eyes filled with tears. “Then promise you’ll never leave me again,” she said, her voice firm. “Never.”
Bai Jingxue touched her arm with a paw. “I won’t leave,” she said. “I never lie.”
The rain continued, washing away their doubts and fears.
A rainbow arched across the sky, and the Ejian Sect disciples gathered to admire it.
Luo Nianshang stood on the peak, watching the rainbow, her expression thoughtful.
Sensing someone’s approach, she turned, her voice calm. “What is it?”
Bai Jingxue, still nestled in Lü Qingyan’s arms, said, “We were trapped inside an artifact. This world was inside it. When we examined it, it shattered, and we returned.”
Luo Nianshang nodded, her gaze distant. “The world seems… larger now,” she murmured.
Seeing their relaxed demeanor, her thoughts drifted to the Demon Lord, who had disappeared.
Bai Jingxue, sensing her melancholy, asked gently, “Are you thinking about the Demon Lord?”
Luo Nianshang admitted it. After their battle with the evil god, the Demon Lord had vanished.
Once Luo Nianshang had recovered, she had gone to the Demon Palace, but only the left and right envoys were there, tirelessly working. She had waited, but the Demon Lord hadn’t returned.
Bored, she had sparred with the envoys, pushing them to their limits. Their pleas for mercy had gone unanswered. Their heartless boss hadn’t returned to save them.
She had found a portrait of herself in the Demon Lord’s room and, her curiosity piqued, had discovered a hidden jade slip beneath it.
She had sensed its importance. It contained a record of the past, of the Demon Lord’s life.
The world believed the Demon Lord was cruel and heartless, a monster who reveled in bloodshed, but the jade slip had revealed a different story.
Luo Nianshang, stunned, had carefully cleaned the jade slip, then, after a moment of hesitation, had placed it back in its hiding spot.
She had sat before the Demon Lord’s vanity, staring at her reflection, a bitter smile curving her lips. “Did you even try to defend yourself?” she had whispered.
The words she had spoken to Hong Ying, to the Demon Lord in disguise, had been cruel.
Her heart ached, her breath catching in her throat.
Now, pulled from her memories, a wave of sadness washing over her, she reached out towards the rainbow, her voice a soft sigh. “There’s so little I can’t solve,” she said, “but this… this is beyond my reach.”
Lü Qingyan, seeing the sadness clouding Luo Nianshang’s usually serene features, her heart aching for her friend, asked, “Do you want me to help?”
Bai Jingxue looked up at her. It wasn’t exactly meddling.
Lü Qingyan’s sense of smell was incredibly acute. And the Ejian Sect had issued a kingdom-wide search for the Demon Lord. Wherever a rumor surfaced, Lü Qingyan would investigate.
But after a month of searching, she had found nothing.
Frustrated, she had cursed, her voice echoing through the forest. “Demon Lord, my ass! More like a cowardly turtle!”
They had returned from their travels, stopping at the Spring Snow Sect to rest. Zhu Chi, having stepped down as sect leader, had also just returned.
Bai Anran had returned to her youthful form, her growth accelerated by some unknown method.
Her personality, however, was still quiet and reserved. She spoke only once, interrupting Lü Qingyan’s frustrated rant. “When I was in the ocean,” she said, “the fish told me about a beautiful human in red robes, living on the seabed.”
It was an important clue, but it wasn’t enough to confirm the Demon Lord’s presence.
But a clue was better than nothing. They decided to investigate.
Before leaving, Bai Jingxue, watching Zhu Chi carefully combing Anran’s hair, her movements gentle and tender, smiled. It was a beautiful sight.
She glanced at Lü Qingyan, whose clothes were slightly disheveled from their travels. Lü Qingyan was always so energetic, her movements often careless.
Bai Jingxue reached out, smoothing Lü Qingyan’s clothes.
Lü Qingyan, who had been pacing impatiently, stilled, her gaze meeting Bai Jingxue’s.
In their past life, she had always looked down at Bai Jingxue, seeing only the top of her head, unable to see the emotions hidden in Bai Jingxue’s eyes: the tenderness, the pain.
But she had made a wish, and now, Bai Jingxue was slightly taller. From this angle, she could see everything.
Jingxue was happy. It was good.
They reached the coast, and Anran, leaping into the ocean, transformed into her whale form. Zhu Chi sat on her usual rock, her guqin resting on her lap.
A moment later, Zhu Chi frowned, her voice filled with regret. “The fish say she’s gone,” she said.
Lü Qingyan’s face fell. She had made a promise to Luo Nianshang.
Bai Jingxue, seeing her disappointment, took her hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll find her.”
Zhu Chi, feeling guilty for their dashed hopes, said, “Allow me to play a song for you. Perhaps it will ease your minds.”
It was the same method Lü Qingyan had used to comfort Bai Jingxue in their past life.
Bai Jingxue, who usually disliked troubling others, agreed.
Zhu Chi smiled, her fingers plucking the strings, the melody soft and soothing.
It was near dusk. The music drifted over the ocean, and a whale’s song answered.
Bai Jingxue, remembering their past, her heart filled with a bittersweet ache, thought of Zhu Chi and Anran’s happy ending.
Fang Mountain is near, the setting sun is round.
The music begins, the whale’s song follows.
May your happiness last forever.
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