Chapter Forty-Nine: Bonds of Deep Gratitude, Mystical Ways, and Present Confusion

"This princess will take you with me," Li Suizhu declared, trusting without hesitation in Wu Yue's words, absurd as they sounded.

Wu Yue glanced at Li Suizhu, feeling a bit ashamed and embarrassed, even guilty—after all, at first, she had intended to use the princess as a scapegoat.

"No need," Wu Yue replied out of habit, refusing. "You go ahead, it shouldn’t be dangerous. I’ll follow behind you."

"What do you mean, 'shouldn't'? You’re supposed to protect me." Li Suizhu grabbed Wu Yue’s hand and strode forward.

Wu Yue was stunned for a moment. A surge of spiritual energy shook Li Suizhu’s hand free. She spoke coolly, "You go first. I’ll follow."

"You!"

"I."

Li Suizhu shot Wu Yue a fierce look and marched ahead. Wu Yue drew a deep breath, focusing her mind, ready for anything.

Wu Yue stepped into the earth.

The scenery shifted, time and space twisted.

Beneath an ancient tree, two people sat on the ground, playing chess. Nearby stood a Taoist boy, sword in arms. Wu Yue was silent, eyes fixed on the board. The chessboard was nearly filled.

The old man brushed his sleeve and placed a stone.

A voice boomed like a bell: "Once, you imprisoned me for ten thousand years, raising a land of a hundred thousand souls. Now, I have divided myself into myriad gods, blocking your descendants for another hundred thousand years, to avenge my grievance."

"Give me the map, give me the truth," Wu Yue suddenly recalled these words, feeling stifled.

The old man turned to Wu Yue. An image unfolded before Wu Yue’s eyes—a tall man in denim, unmistakably Da Lie!

He descended from the sky. With a finger, he summoned an endless domain of fire. Between heaven and earth, there was only flame—even as a mere vision, separated by endless time, Wu Yue could still sense the boiling, vivid power of fire. Even in her heart, it stirred an unquenchable rage.

All the fires of the world, layered together! Common flames, heavenly flames, the fire of the heart—

This was the true art of stacking fire. Wu Yue was shaken to her core.

"Haha, Kunlun’s disciple. If you don’t agree to my terms, I’ll burn your Kunlun secret realm to ashes! Ah, with so many disciples and followers, I almost pity you!"

Wu Yue thought, isn’t this just what villains do?

The vision faded. The black stone was placed.

"Now, cause and effect have come full circle," the old man said quietly.

His counterpart placed a white stone, "If the Way lacks courtesy, it must leave a thread of hope."

The world of midsummer! Wu Yue held it aloft.

"How laughable," the black stone elder glanced at Wu Yue. With just two simple words, Wu Yue’s grand move dissolved into nothing.

"Wu Yue, Wu Yue! What’s wrong?" Li Suizhu, her gaze nearly turned backward, suddenly cried out in alarm.

Wu Yue, who had been calmly walking, collapsed to the ground.

"Wake up, quickly! What’s wrong, what’s happening?" Li Suizhu called out in panic. Uncontrollable tears began to fall. No matter how noble her status, how exalted her rank, she was still just a sixteen-year-old girl.

Two golden pills appeared in Li Suizhu’s hand, their medicinal fragrance swirling. But Wu Yue, looking merely asleep, could not be coaxed to take them.

Li Suizhu instinctively looked around; the tunnel was empty and dark.

Her lips met his. Both lost their first kiss.

Thunder rumbled; the leaking roof met the heavy rain. The tunnel began to collapse. Li Suizhu cradled Wu Yue, her tears dropping onto his face.

Her exceptional lineage and character ensured Li Suizhu would not sit and wait for death.

She hoisted Wu Yue onto her back and trudged forward, step by difficult step. Fortunately, Li Suizhu was a cultivator; otherwise, there would be only tears left to cry, making them a pair of doomed lovers.

Wu Yue slumped on Li Suizhu’s back, as if asleep. Li Suizhu pressed forward through the tunnel, and suddenly, the sadness melted away.

"I’ve treated you so well; you must be deeply moved. When we get out, let’s find somewhere to hide, return to Luoyang, and I’ll have my father grant you a high rank," Li Suizhu rambled, her habit of muttering perhaps unexpected to anyone.

The tunnel grew narrower: first walking, then crouching, finally Li Suizhu could only inch backward, clinging tightly to Wu Yue. She took off her White Jade Dragon Heart Pendant, then pushed a round orb onto Wu Yue as well. Only then did she breathe easier.

They moved little by little. The soft earth, paradoxically, was fiercely resistant; no matter how she tried to break through, the tunnel refused to expand.

Li Suizhu brushed dirt from Wu Yue’s face, but accidentally struck a stone. Wu Yue’s expression remained serene, as if nothing could disturb his calm.

A vague headache pulsed above, and Li Suizhu seemed suddenly overwhelmed. Tears poured down.

Her sobs echoed in the tunnel, lingering. After wiping her tears, she realized how long the tunnel was.

The journey had to continue.

"You surely don’t want to die, do you? You must be someone who refuses death no matter what," Li Suizhu murmured.

Wu Yue’s face remained tranquil, but his eyes stayed closed.

"If not for me, you wouldn’t have come back, wouldn’t have fainted, wouldn’t be trapped with no escape—it’s all my fault," Li Suizhu sobbed and stopped, sobbed and stopped.

Darkness before her eyes, guilt in her heart, hope in her mind—they crossed and tangled. Growth is not about age, but experience; Li Suizhu grew rapidly.

When Li Suizhu finally saw the sky outside, a surge of happiness flooded her heart.

"You rascal, wake up! I brought you out!" Li Suizhu absentmindedly touched her face; her once fair complexion was now dirty, and became even dirtier as she rubbed.

Wu Yue remained unmoved.

"We’re out!" Li Suizhu called loudly.

No one answered.

"We really made it," Li Suizhu’s voice lowered.

Wu Yue still lay with eyes closed, as if deeply asleep.

"No more destiny, no more fate—let’s hide," Li Suizhu carried Wu Yue eastward.

All she saw was white. White for purity, but also terror. A large room, very large. White walls, white sheets, white curtains; on the table, a bouquet of flowers, already faded.

A young man in loose patient clothes stared blankly, confusion written across his face.

"Is this all a dream?" The young man frowned deeply. Every scene was so vivid, the people and events etched in his memory, impossible to forget, unwilling to forget.

"A mirror! I need a mirror!" the young man suddenly cried out.

Footsteps sounded—urgent but unhurried.

"Patient in bed seven needs a strong sedative."

The young man watched as three or four doctors entered, wearing masks and badges. He quickly glanced at their names. No mistake, the names were correct.

They ignored him completely. One doctor calmly said, "Record: one hour, seventeen minutes. Bed seven patient suddenly anxious."

It was late at night. With not a single light, the young man struggled to tell the time.

Suddenly, pain—a syringe plunged into his arm.

"Record: bed seven. Administered one strong sedative, no resistance, increase monitoring."

Then they turned and left, never glancing at him again.

Sleepiness swept over him, irresistible. He sank into deep slumber...