After that day, Qin Yuwen didn’t come to bother Chu Xinghui for a long while.

But Chu Xinghui knew that Qin Yuwen hadn’t left.

He often felt a hidden gaze, watching him from the shadows, as if trying to confirm something, or perhaps wary of something.

At this point, the situation had become very clear.

Although Chu Xinghui hadn’t spent much time with his “biological father,” he knew a bit about his nature.

Mu Chengjin cared greatly about his reputation and face. Since he had made a move on him, regardless of whether it had been impulsive at first, once the action was initiated, Mu Chengjin would certainly eliminate him completely, ensuring he wouldn’t live to affect his own reputation.

However, Chu Xinghui had been wandering outside for almost half a year after leaving Lingxiang Sect, yet Lingxiang Sect hadn’t reacted at all as if nothing had happened. Chu Xinghui hadn’t even seen a disciple of Lingxiang Sect out there. Someone must have done something to make Mu Chengjin believe he was already dead.

Even more troubling… perhaps, as events unfolded, the role of “Lingxiang Sect” in this world had already come to an end, and there was no longer any need for Lingxiang Sect’s people to appear.

And from the beginning in Shuixun City, up until the time Chu Xinghui left Lingxiang Sect, only one person had been relentlessly haunting him.

The identity of the mastermind was now becoming increasingly obvious.

The only thing Chu Xinghui couldn’t understand was—despite having lost his spiritual root and cultivation path, what could he still be of value to Qin Yuwen?

Why was Qin Yuwen still so cautious?

Since he couldn’t figure it out for the moment, Chu Xinghui chose to remain passive, pretending not to notice that Qin Yuwen was secretly watching, and he continued living his life, working as usual.

He had patience, but Qin Yuwen didn’t.

This world was vast, and each day that passed drained more and more energy. Qin Yuwen’s resources were already stretched thin, and he couldn’t afford to keep up large-scale consumption for long.

After spying for a while without noticing anything unusual, he thought that the words Chu Xinghui had spoken were just a fluke. He then resumed his actions.

…

Soon enough, Chu Xinghui felt the effect of Qin Yuwen cutting back on his power expenditure.

The most direct result was that the number of living people in the city gradually decreased

And then, it wasn’t just people—the trees outside the city, the small stalls by the roadside, the nearby towns… everything around him was gradually disappearing.

Chu Xinghui stayed from spring to autumn, and by then, he hadn’t seen another living person, except for Qin Yuwen.

Finally, one day, he stood at the city gate. Outside, everything had completely vanished, leaving only thick fog, and behind him was the empty “city”—if an entire city-sized empty space could still be called a city.

Qin Yuwen appeared as usual, emerging from the mist. He looked pitifully at Chu Xinghui and began with the familiar line: “Brother Xinghui…”

Chu Xinghui remained silent for a moment and interrupted him: “Cultivator Qin… Don’t you see something wrong with the surroundings?”

Qin Yuwen also fell silent for a moment, his face turning red and then pale.

After a while, he still mustered the strength to speak: “Our engagement…”

Chu Xinghui couldn’t hold back any longer and directly pointed out the current situation: “Qin Yuwen, this isn’t the real world.”

He slowly voiced his speculation: “If I really lost my spiritual root and spiritual power, and hadn’t eaten or drunk for days, I should have died by now. But as of now, I still show no signs of dying… So can I speculate that my spiritual root and spiritual power haven’t actually left my body—because this isn’t the real world? The reason everything around us looks like this is because something went wrong with the mastermind behind this ‘world,’ right?”

The pretentious look on Qin Yuwen’s face finally faded, and he stared at him in silence.

After becoming a mortal, Chu Xinghui had been weak and couldn’t be bothered to stand while talking to him, so he casually found a place to sit.

Qin Yuwen broke into a gentle smile and finally spoke: “Why be so serious? Reality and illusion are relative concepts. The place you cannot escape from is your reality. Brother Xinghui, this is your reality.”

“A world where only the two of us exist—what a fate,” he said slowly, walking towards Chu Xinghui. He bent down and extended his hand, softly coaxing: “Now, you only have me. As long as you accept me, everything around us can return to ‘normal.’ You can go back to Lingxiang Sect, continue being the sect’s eldest young master, and even continue cultivating… Whatever you want, I can offer it to you—why must you refuse me?”

Chu Xinghui suddenly asked him: “If I choose to commit suicide here, would you still get what you want?”

Qin Yuwen’s smile faded: “If you die here, your body in the real world will also die.”

Chu Xinghui understood something from his attitude: “So, only my soul is here, and if I die, you really can’t get what you want.”

Qin Yuwen said nothing, silently staring at him.

Chu Xinghui withdrew his gaze: “Don’t worry, this is the last resort. Before I reach a dead end, I won’t actively choose this path.”

Living was extremely important to him, and he didn’t plan to waste his life here.

Qin Yuwen still wouldn’t give up: “If you marry me as a Dao companion, you won’t have to die. I’ve never had any bad intentions towards you. Why won’t you believe me?”

Chu Xinghui thought for a moment: “If this is the only way to survive, it might be better to die.”

Qin Yuwen felt so insulted, his lips pressed together in frustration

Chu Xinghui didn’t want to continue playing games with him: “This place has already turned out like this. I guess, Cultivator Qin, your time is running out, isn’t it?”

Since things had come to this point, Qin Yuwen sneered and said: “Brother Xinghui, even if my time is short, I can still outlast you. Your soul… it should already be very weak, right?”

His current state was quite obvious. Chu Xinghui didn’t deny it but simply said: “Someone will eventually notice that I’m missing.”

Cultivators often seclude themselves or explore secret realms, and disappearing for a year or two was a normal occurrence. Even close friends or family would find it hard to notice.

He didn’t know if he had any friends or family in the real world, but… he always felt that if he went missing, someone would surely find out.

“Really asking for trouble,” Qin Yuwen sneered, feeling confident: “Let’s make a bet then, let’s see if the power of this world runs out first, or if you die here first.”

Chu Xinghui reminded him: “You just revealed that if I die here, it will cause you trouble.”

Qin Yuwen shrugged: “Doesn’t matter, if you die, my plan fails, but for you, you really die. Brother Xinghui, our stakes were never equal to begin with.”

He made a valid point, but Chu Xinghui didn’t respond.

Talking to him wasn’t as important as conserving energy.

Qin Yuwen leaned in closer, maliciously saying: “I forgot to tell you, one day outside is one year here. Even if the person you’re thinking of truly hasn’t let you down, do you think they’ll make it in time? Even if they do, how likely is it that they can save you?”

Chu Xinghui still ignored him.

Qin Yuwen chuckled twice: “Brother Xinghui, even though you’re so heartless to me, I still like you very much. So I’m willing to offer you some convenience—during the duration of our bet, as long as you agree to become my Dao companion, I can forgive the past, and we can still live happily together. I will still treat you well.”

If he couldn’t break his bones by dragging him into the mire, then perhaps he could stretch out the process of death indefinitely?

The first time a person faces death, they might be brave, but when life truly starts to slip away from their body, it’s another matter entirely.

Chu Xinghui loosened his grip and carefully examined the protective talisman he had been holding. He gently stroked it.

Then he looked at Qin Yuwen and finally crushed the talisman.

He had no memory of this talisman, but he felt… this was how it should be used.

A sharp sword light suddenly appeared on Qin Yuwen’s body. Before he could speak, his entire mental confusion was shattered into pieces.

The annoying fly finally disappeared and Chu Xinghui leaned against the city wall, closing his eyes.

He curled up like a young beast, or like a seed buried in the snow.

He really was very weak.

…Now, he could only wait for some unknown kind-hearted person to take him home.

*

A thousand miles away, in Cangzhou City.

Xie Liufeng had just dealt with the nearby seals and was on his way back to the city to replenish his supplies when he bumped into Shang Ling, who had come to do business there. Without hesitation, he invited him to a meal.

The two chatted casually at the dining table. Shang Ling noticed that Xie Liufeng kept glancing at the communication talisman and couldn’t help but tease him: “What’s going on? Who are you waiting for news from?”

If it weren’t for the fact that Shang Ling knew Xie Liufeng had never cared about finding a Dao companion, he would have thought Xie Liufeng was waiting for a message from a beloved Dao companion who was about to be separated from him.

Xie Liufeng kept his gaze on the communication talisman and replied between glances: “Our little Xinghui hasn’t contacted me in several days.”

Shang Ling almost choked on his tea: “It’s only been a few days, what’s the big deal?”

If Xie Liufeng hadn’t said anything, he might have thought it had been decades without contact.

Xie Liufeng furrowed his brows: “I just feel restless.”

He was still debating whether he should take the initiative to send a message when he suddenly sensed something. His expression turned sharp: “Something’s wrong. I’m going to find him.”

Without another word, he mounted his sword and flew off.

Shang Ling was left stunned for a moment, and then quickly reacted—Xie Liufeng wouldn’t have given his own blood to that little disciple of his, would he?

After that day, Qin Yuwen didn’t come to bother Chu Xinghui for a long while.

But Chu Xinghui knew that Qin Yuwen hadn’t left.

He often felt a hidden gaze, watching him from the shadows, as if trying to confirm something, or perhaps wary of something.

At this point, the situation had become very clear.

Although Chu Xinghui hadn’t spent much time with his “biological father,” he knew a bit about his nature.

Mu Chengjin cared greatly about his reputation and face. Since he had made a move on him, regardless of whether it had been impulsive at first, once the action was initiated, Mu Chengjin would certainly eliminate him completely, ensuring he wouldn’t live to affect his own reputation.

However, Chu Xinghui had been wandering outside for almost half a year after leaving Lingxiang Sect, yet Lingxiang Sect hadn’t reacted at all as if nothing had happened. Chu Xinghui hadn’t even seen a disciple of Lingxiang Sect out there. Someone must have done something to make Mu Chengjin believe he was already dead.

Even more troubling… perhaps, as events unfolded, the role of “Lingxiang Sect” in this world had already come to an end, and there was no longer any need for Lingxiang Sect’s people to appear.

And from the beginning in Shuixun City, up until the time Chu Xinghui left Lingxiang Sect, only one person had been relentlessly haunting him.

The identity of the mastermind was now becoming increasingly obvious.

The only thing Chu Xinghui couldn’t understand was—despite having lost his spiritual root and cultivation path, what could he still be of value to Qin Yuwen?

Why was Qin Yuwen still so cautious?

Since he couldn’t figure it out for the moment, Chu Xinghui chose to remain passive, pretending not to notice that Qin Yuwen was secretly watching, and he continued living his life, working as usual.

He had patience, but Qin Yuwen didn’t.

This world was vast, and each day that passed drained more and more energy. Qin Yuwen’s resources were already stretched thin, and he couldn’t afford to keep up large-scale consumption for long.

After spying for a while without noticing anything unusual, he thought that the words Chu Xinghui had spoken were just a fluke. He then resumed his actions.

…

Soon enough, Chu Xinghui felt the effect of Qin Yuwen cutting back on his power expenditure.

The most direct result was that the number of living people in the city gradually decreased

And then, it wasn’t just people—the trees outside the city, the small stalls by the roadside, the nearby towns… everything around him was gradually disappearing.

Chu Xinghui stayed from spring to autumn, and by then, he hadn’t seen another living person, except for Qin Yuwen.

Finally, one day, he stood at the city gate. Outside, everything had completely vanished, leaving only thick fog, and behind him was the empty “city”—if an entire city-sized empty space could still be called a city.

Qin Yuwen appeared as usual, emerging from the mist. He looked pitifully at Chu Xinghui and began with the familiar line: “Brother Xinghui…”

Chu Xinghui remained silent for a moment and interrupted him: “Cultivator Qin… Don’t you see something wrong with the surroundings?”

Qin Yuwen also fell silent for a moment, his face turning red and then pale.

After a while, he still mustered the strength to speak: “Our engagement…”

Chu Xinghui couldn’t hold back any longer and directly pointed out the current situation: “Qin Yuwen, this isn’t the real world.”

He slowly voiced his speculation: “If I really lost my spiritual root and spiritual power, and hadn’t eaten or drunk for days, I should have died by now. But as of now, I still show no signs of dying… So can I speculate that my spiritual root and spiritual power haven’t actually left my body—because this isn’t the real world? The reason everything around us looks like this is because something went wrong with the mastermind behind this ‘world,’ right?”

The pretentious look on Qin Yuwen’s face finally faded, and he stared at him in silence.

After becoming a mortal, Chu Xinghui had been weak and couldn’t be bothered to stand while talking to him, so he casually found a place to sit.

Qin Yuwen broke into a gentle smile and finally spoke: “Why be so serious? Reality and illusion are relative concepts. The place you cannot escape from is your reality. Brother Xinghui, this is your reality.”

“A world where only the two of us exist—what a fate,” he said slowly, walking towards Chu Xinghui. He bent down and extended his hand, softly coaxing: “Now, you only have me. As long as you accept me, everything around us can return to ‘normal.’ You can go back to Lingxiang Sect, continue being the sect’s eldest young master, and even continue cultivating… Whatever you want, I can offer it to you—why must you refuse me?”

Chu Xinghui suddenly asked him: “If I choose to commit suicide here, would you still get what you want?”

Qin Yuwen’s smile faded: “If you die here, your body in the real world will also die.”

Chu Xinghui understood something from his attitude: “So, only my soul is here, and if I die, you really can’t get what you want.”

Qin Yuwen said nothing, silently staring at him.

Chu Xinghui withdrew his gaze: “Don’t worry, this is the last resort. Before I reach a dead end, I won’t actively choose this path.”

Living was extremely important to him, and he didn’t plan to waste his life here.

Qin Yuwen still wouldn’t give up: “If you marry me as a Dao companion, you won’t have to die. I’ve never had any bad intentions towards you. Why won’t you believe me?”

Chu Xinghui thought for a moment: “If this is the only way to survive, it might be better to die.”

Qin Yuwen felt so insulted, his lips pressed together in frustration

Chu Xinghui didn’t want to continue playing games with him: “This place has already turned out like this. I guess, Cultivator Qin, your time is running out, isn’t it?”

Since things had come to this point, Qin Yuwen sneered and said: “Brother Xinghui, even if my time is short, I can still outlast you. Your soul… it should already be very weak, right?”

His current state was quite obvious. Chu Xinghui didn’t deny it but simply said: “Someone will eventually notice that I’m missing.”

Cultivators often seclude themselves or explore secret realms, and disappearing for a year or two was a normal occurrence. Even close friends or family would find it hard to notice.

He didn’t know if he had any friends or family in the real world, but… he always felt that if he went missing, someone would surely find out.

“Really asking for trouble,” Qin Yuwen sneered, feeling confident: “Let’s make a bet then, let’s see if the power of this world runs out first, or if you die here first.”

Chu Xinghui reminded him: “You just revealed that if I die here, it will cause you trouble.”

Qin Yuwen shrugged: “Doesn’t matter, if you die, my plan fails, but for you, you really die. Brother Xinghui, our stakes were never equal to begin with.”

He made a valid point, but Chu Xinghui didn’t respond.

Talking to him wasn’t as important as conserving energy.

Qin Yuwen leaned in closer, maliciously saying: “I forgot to tell you, one day outside is one year here. Even if the person you’re thinking of truly hasn’t let you down, do you think they’ll make it in time? Even if they do, how likely is it that they can save you?”

Chu Xinghui still ignored him.

Qin Yuwen chuckled twice: “Brother Xinghui, even though you’re so heartless to me, I still like you very much. So I’m willing to offer you some convenience—during the duration of our bet, as long as you agree to become my Dao companion, I can forgive the past, and we can still live happily together. I will still treat you well.”

If he couldn’t break his bones by dragging him into the mire, then perhaps he could stretch out the process of death indefinitely?

The first time a person faces death, they might be brave, but when life truly starts to slip away from their body, it’s another matter entirely.

Chu Xinghui loosened his grip and carefully examined the protective talisman he had been holding. He gently stroked it.

Then he looked at Qin Yuwen and finally crushed the talisman.

He had no memory of this talisman, but he felt… this was how it should be used.

A sharp sword light suddenly appeared on Qin Yuwen’s body. Before he could speak, his entire mental confusion was shattered into pieces.

The annoying fly finally disappeared and Chu Xinghui leaned against the city wall, closing his eyes.

He curled up like a young beast, or like a seed buried in the snow.

He really was very weak.

…Now, he could only wait for some unknown kind-hearted person to take him home.

*

A thousand miles away, in Cangzhou City.

Xie Liufeng had just dealt with the nearby seals and was on his way back to the city to replenish his supplies when he bumped into Shang Ling, who had come to do business there. Without hesitation, he invited him to a meal.

The two chatted casually at the dining table. Shang Ling noticed that Xie Liufeng kept glancing at the communication talisman and couldn’t help but tease him: “What’s going on? Who are you waiting for news from?”

If it weren’t for the fact that Shang Ling knew Xie Liufeng had never cared about finding a Dao companion, he would have thought Xie Liufeng was waiting for a message from a beloved Dao companion who was about to be separated from him.

Xie Liufeng kept his gaze on the communication talisman and replied between glances: “Our little Xinghui hasn’t contacted me in several days.”

Shang Ling almost choked on his tea: “It’s only been a few days, what’s the big deal?”

If Xie Liufeng hadn’t said anything, he might have thought it had been decades without contact.

Xie Liufeng furrowed his brows: “I just feel restless.”

He was still debating whether he should take the initiative to send a message when he suddenly sensed something. His expression turned sharp: “Something’s wrong. I’m going to find him.”

Without another word, he mounted his sword and flew off.

Shang Ling was left stunned for a moment, and then quickly reacted—Xie Liufeng wouldn’t have given his own blood to that little disciple of his, would he?

 

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