Chapter Sixty-Three: The Matter Settled

Naturally, at that moment, I did not hesitate at all and seized the hilt of the Sword of All Beings. Instantly, the entire space trembled violently; I felt a mighty vortex forming in the darkness surrounding my body. In a blink, I was standing once more atop the grand, resplendent hall, though now the hall had begun to dim. Beneath my feet, the colors of the five elements remained, but this time, each hue gradually faded away, slowly transforming into a sea of black.

“Master, I never expected you to be the one the Great Master Minglu spoke of as an old acquaintance. Judging by your appearance, you’ve already met him. My task is complete; it’s time for me to withdraw.”

I was at a loss for words.

There was no opportunity for me to speak; before my eyes, the beautiful woman, once graceful and poised, began to blur. As the spiritual energy and Buddhist light around us faded, so too did her figure, little by little.

“Master, we must leave here quickly! This place is about to collapse!” Tu urged.

Of course, Tu needn’t remind me; I could feel it myself. At the very moment the Buddhist maiden vanished, the dazzling palace began to tremble uncontrollably, and the entire space shook violently. One by one, the golden pillars fractured and tumbled down.

I was deeply worried about Xiyue and Zhao Wen, but I could sense nothing of their presence. Yet, considering this treasure vault was meticulously arranged by an ancient Buddha, I imagined it would not harm anyone without reason.

With a thought, the Sword of All Beings carried me out along the path we had come; the journey ahead was pitch-black, my hand invisible before my face. All I could feel was the pressure rising from beneath the earth—nothing else reached me.

A muffled hum sounded.

My body landed firmly as though upon solid ground; the Sword of All Beings swiftly returned to the Blood Massacre Array, and Tu, silent, closed his eyes to refine spiritual energy.

Struggling, I crawled from the coffin and slowly climbed onto the ground.

What I saw stunned me—the student dormitory had collapsed entirely, and the surrounding academic buildings suffered various degrees of damage, as if someone had suddenly hollowed out the foundation beneath the dorms.

As I stood up and wiped the sweat from my brow, I saw Xiyue and Zhao Wen standing under the moonlight not far away, their figures surprisingly distinct.

Xiyue gazed at me; her eyes now held a touch of gentleness, the cold indifference from before diminished.

Zhao Wen, meanwhile, stared at me in astonishment, his face alight with disbelief.

“Xiyue, Teacher Zhao, are you both alright?”

Xiyue nodded and walked over, gently wiping the sweat from my forehead.

Her hand was cool and smooth as jade, brushing across my brow—a unique tenderness.

After all that had happened recently, a great mystery had begun to grow within me: Who am I, truly?

It seemed almost comical to say so, yet it was real. My parents appeared to be ordinary people, entirely unremarkable, with no special talents at all.

My father was an elementary school teacher, not particularly distinguished, having remained a humble language teacher for many years. My mother, a laid-off worker, now stayed home as a full-time housewife. Since childhood, I was their treasured child; I have some scattered memories of my grandmother, but they are few and fragmented.

I exhaled deeply, looking at Xiyue standing before me, and said with a soft laugh, “Xiyue, what did you two encounter?”

Xiyue did not answer; Zhao Wen, standing beside her, urged us to leave quickly. The school buildings had collapsed in the dead of night—by morning, it would surely be headline news.

I had no desire to be photographed by reporters flocking to the scene, and dawn was nearly upon us.

The three of us hurried away. On the way back, I exchanged contact information with Zhao Wen before we parted ways. Zhao Wen, after all, made his living in this field, and he had opened a Tongji Hall in the northern part of Chengdu. I mentioned I worked at the Longevity Agency; Zhao Wen looked at me with envy and said that the Longevity Agency was the premier firm in all of China, handling supernatural cases with ease.

That certainly satisfied my vanity. Zhao Wen’s words also made me realize that, in Chengdu and across the country, there were many such establishments—typically offering funeral services, Buddhist statue consecrations, fortune-telling, and herbal remedies for strange illnesses. Yet, every industry had its share of charlatans; this one was no exception, with many like Master Nangai.

At the street corner, Zhao Wen suggested we meet for tea sometime, and offered to introduce me to the leader of their Evil Spirit Sect, so we could look after each other in times of need. I suspected Zhao Wen was less interested in my abilities and more in Xiyue and the Longevity Agency backing us.

After parting ways with Zhao Wen, Xiyue and I walked together, silent the whole way.

When we returned to the Longevity Agency on Shuigui Street, sitting in the second-floor lounge, Xiyue watched the faint light of dawn in the east and softly asked, “Xiao Dong, if one day I were gone, would you still remember me?”

Her sudden question caught me off guard as I was drinking water.

“Xiyue, what are you saying…”

“Just answer—would you, or wouldn’t you?”

Xiyue gave me no chance to evade, asking directly.

Standing at the window, calm and steady, she gazed at me; I knew then that she and Zhao Wen had both entered some kind of illusion. Though they eventually emerged, at their level of cultivation, they understood a simple truth: the illusion reflected their deepest thoughts, or perhaps the hidden memories and desires sealed within their subconscious.

Slowly, I stood and walked to Xiyue’s side. Outside, the sky was still a pale white.

I reached out and drew Xiyue into my arms—not from deliberation, but from irresistible impulse.

“Always. And I will never let you leave me.”

Xiyue did not resist; she nestled against my shoulder like a gentle kitten, closing her eyes softly.

Inhaling a familiar scent, reminiscent of Su Ying, I looked up to see the first rays of morning sunlight breaking through the darkness outside the window.

At that moment, all things revived. Countless eyes opened.

A new day had begun!