Inside the cave, Yuan Ji glanced at her deeply sleeping self and turned to follow the departing Qi Guan Shang.
He walked swiftly, as if fleeing this place to deny himself any chance of regret, carrying an air of finality.
Yuan Ji followed him to the dwelling place of the dragon clan. She looked around, her expression growing increasingly grave.
In the past, this place was lush with dense foliage, and among the branches and leaves, one could always catch glimpses of various giant dragons coiled around. But now, withered trees stood straight up from the cracked earth. Within the Heaven-Sacrificing Grand Array, mountains of piled white bones gradually twisted their forms amidst waves of scorching air. The scenes before her eyes were like wooden thorns piercing into flesh, causing an agonizing, heart-wrenching pain.
If even the dragon clan’s territory, the place richest in spiritual energy, was like this, what kind of purgatory must the rest of the world be?
A faint crease appeared between Yuan Ji’s brows. Watching Qi Guan Shang’s focused expression, a sliver of unease arose in her heart.
With spiritual energy depleted to this extent, how could he possibly replenish it all by himself?
Yet, the Qi Guan Shang in her memory didn’t seem to consider this problem. He didn’t spare a single extra glance for the desolation around him, heading straight back to his own dwelling. Passing through a screen, he pressed a mechanism on the stone wall.
A hidden chamber slowly appeared before him.
Yuan Ji quickly followed Qi Guan Shang, entering close behind him.
The dim chamber was devoid of even a speck of dust, impeccably clean—cleaned daily without fail.
Under the swaying, gentle candlelight, Yuan Ji looked up and immediately froze in place.
Within the not-so-large chamber were densely piled various statues. Some depicted a figure with closed eyes in repose, others a figure pensively resting a cheek on a hand, yet others glancing back with a smile…
Some were carved from wood, others hollowed out from metal or stone, still others crafted from various precious gems.
Without exception, every single one was carved in her likeness.
“When did he…” Yuan Ji murmured, her fingertips brushing over the wooden statue’s robe collar. The slightly raised patterns were smooth and delicate, finely polished.
At this moment, Qi Guan Shang gazed at the newly carved statue of Yuan Ji, his eyes softening increasingly. This was his best carving, originally meant to be forever hidden in this chamber. He never imagined it would now be of use.
Qi Guan Shang gently placed the statue on the desk. From his robes, he retrieved the jade vial containing Yuan Ji’s blood. A silvery power enveloped the drop of dragon blood as it slowly sank into the statue’s heart.
Gradually, the statue shed the rigidity of jade, now wrapped in a lustrous aura—Yuan Ji’s aura.
Witnessing this, Yuan Ji’s heart plummeted. She stared at Qi Guan Shang in disbelief. “A substitution art!”
“Ah Shang, what are you planning to do?”
But how could the person in the memory hear her? Even if he could, Qi Guan Shang, having made up his mind, would not change his course.
“I’m sorry, Yuan Ji. The substitution art I learned from ancient texts hasn’t been tested yet. Forcing you to be trapped in this rigid body… I’ve wronged you.”
Qi Guan Shang held a brush in one hand, painting layer upon layer of arrays over the statue’s heart.
“Don’t be afraid, Yuan Ji. Although the substitution art will link your senses to the statue, once I complete this array, it will sever your connection to it.”
“You just need to sleep well. When you wake, everything will be over.”
As his words fell, his brush stopped. The array drawn with silvery blood emitted a dazzling light from the statue. Looking closely, the statue’s eyes indeed lost their sparkle. Now, it was merely a puppet possessing Yuan Ji’s aura.
How could Yuan Ji not understand Qi Guan Shang’s plan? With an anxious expression, she stepped forward to stop him, but her outstretched hand passed right through his form.
How could a memory be changed?
Yuan Ji stared blankly at her palm. After a long moment, an intense emotion flooded her heart.
No. She had to stop this from happening.
But the moment she took a step, the scene before her rapidly flowed away. In an instant, Yuan Ji was no longer in the hidden chamber, but outside the Heaven-Sacrificing Array.
Dark, heavy clouds pressed down. Among the ink-black cloud masses, lightning flashed. Amidst howling winds, the figure within the array stood firm like a pine tree.
Qi Guan Shang wore red robes, his originally silver hair now dyed ink-black. His dark hair flew about, merging with the color of heaven and earth.
Holding “Yuan Ji” tightly in his arms at the array’s center, his expression was serene, already prepared to sacrifice himself to the Heavenly Dao.
Qi Guan Shang gripped a long sword—a blade forged from silver dragon scales, like a sudden flash of cold moonlight cleaving through the darkness. The sword swept across the palm of his other hand. Silvery blood immediately welled from his palm, dripping into the array.
The array activated. The airflow around grew increasingly turbulent. Vast amounts of spiritual power were abruptly devoured by the array. Qi Guan Shang staggered half a step back, unsteady.
Nourished by the spiritual energy, faint hints of green tentatively emerged near the array.
In contrast, Qi Guan Shang’s figure gradually began to dissipate. The red plum blossoms at the lowest hem of his robe had already turned into points of spiritual light, melting into the array. It wouldn’t be long before he completely vanished within it.
But Qi Guan Shang did not stop his actions. This Heaven-Sacrificing Array did not actively devour the life force of those who entered; it only activated when they willingly offered themselves.
Because it was Qi Guan Shang’s first attempt at this substitution art, the puppet he created could only deceive the Heavenly Dao through its aura, not move autonomously.
Qi Guan Shang’s expression was cold. He stared fixedly at “Yuan Ji,” struggling to tell himself this was not the real Yuan Ji. Only this way could Yuan Ji survive.
Qi Guan Shang’s brow furrowed slightly, his expression suddenly turning fierce.
Suddenly, he seemed to remember something. His other hand swiftly formed a seal.
The silvery long sword reflected his face—the visage he had transformed into, that of Qi Yan—and that resolute gaze, just as it was in Yuan Ji’s memory.
Yuan Ji’s steps faltered. So, this was how it was.
That sword thrust from Qi Yan in her memory… was transmitted through the shared senses of the substitution art.
“Mmm, finished.” Tossing the last piece of white jade cake into its mouth, chewing and swallowing, the giant dragon stretched lazily, appearing beside Yuan Ji.
Yuan Ji whipped her head to look at it. “Can you help me stop him?”
The giant dragon exhaled a puff of dragon breath, slowly shaking its head. “I am but a remnant thought. I cannot save him.”
Yuan Ji’s lips pressed into a tight line. Her face solemn, she gazed intensely at Qi Guan Shang within the array, desperately calling out in her mind for A’Tong.
If she couldn’t reach him, perhaps A’Tong might have a good solution!
But no matter how she called, only dead silence answered in her mind.
The emotions accumulating in Yuan Ji’s eyes grew heavier. The blood in her body surged and churned with her emotional turmoil. Gold gradually seeped into her eyes.
A terrifying aura instantly erupted from her, violently encroaching upon this world of memory.
The giant dragon glanced down at Yuan Ji, nuzzling her cheek, offering comfort. “Do not panic. He will truly die only if you tear apart this world.”
“I cannot save him, but you can.”
Yuan Ji’s rampaging spiritual energy paused for a moment. She looked up at the giant dragon, puzzled. “Me?”
The giant dragon nodded. “That puppet under the substitution art contains a drop of your blood. You can project your consciousness into that puppet and stop Ah Shang.”
“How do I enter?” Before the giant dragon could finish, Yuan Ji urgently stepped forward and asked.
“Close your eyes.” The giant dragon’s claw gently covered Yuan Ji’s eyes. “I will send you in.”
A golden light flew from between its brows. Warm as spring sunlight, the radiance enveloped Yuan Ji’s form, carrying her into the puppet’s body.
Seeing this, the giant dragon withdrew its gaze and lay down on the ground. It smacked its lips twice, somewhat regretful. “If only I had saved one more piece…”
As its words faded, having given all its power to Yuan Ji, it gradually scattered, turning into points of starlight.
The moment Yuan Ji entered the puppet’s body, wanting to raise a hand to push Qi Guan Shang out of the array, she found she couldn’t move at all.
A silvery light flashed before her eyes. Qi Yan’s expression grew increasingly cold. He stripped away all emotion, like ice on a high mountain, already decided on death.
“Crunch.”
The long sword pierced the jade, stabbing into Yuan Ji’s heart. A sharp pain transmitted from her heart into her soul sea. Yuan Ji groaned, closing her eyes in agony, completely missing the momentary look of stunned disbelief on the face opposite her.
The dragon blood hidden within the heart slowly dripped down along the sword. The array beneath their feet suddenly blazed brightly.
The substitution art was broken.
“How can this be?” Qi Yan murmured, taking an incredulous step forward. The panic in his eyes was enough to drown him. “You were in the forbidden ground… how is this possible?”
Fresh blood slowly trickled from the corner of Yuan Ji’s mouth. She managed to twitch a fingertip. Seeing her body growing faint, like ink washed thin with water, she only felt relief. Thankfully, she had made it in time.
If she had been even a moment later, there would no longer be that little silver dragon who was always clinging to her between heaven and earth.
“My life should be decided by me.”
She forced a slight tug at the corner of her mouth and raised a palm, striking the person’s shoulder.
Qi Yan had long since exhausted immense spiritual power. With just Yuan Ji’s light push, he was sent flying out of the array, landing heavily on the ground.
That palm strike from Yuan Ji not only expelled him from the array but also left him with vast, torrential spiritual energy, allowing his form to solidify.
“No!”
He shed his disguise, reverting to his original appearance. His once stunningly beautiful face was now deathly pale, covered entirely with dismay.
The vibrant robes were now stained with gray-yellow scorched earth, but he paid no heed. Qi Guan Shang staggered to his feet, rushing toward Yuan Ji. But no matter how he hacked at the array with his sword, it remained utterly unmoved.
Once the array activated, nothing from the outside could enter.
“Yuan Ji, please come out.”
“Having me sacrifice to the Heavenly Dao would achieve the same!” Qi Guan Shang’s eyes were full of pleading, just like when they first met, when a single glance from Yuan Ji could make him excitedly fly several loops in the sky. “Yuan Ji.”
Yuan Ji could not clearly hear his words. Because she had entered this body with her soul consciousness, the array continuously drained power from her soul sea.
Darkness swam before Yuan Ji’s eyes. Her whole being felt like a drifting duckweed, swaying unsteadily in the air.
Perhaps it was time for her to disappear.
Thinking this, Yuan Ji struggled to tilt her head, forcing her increasingly vacant eyes to look toward Qi Guan Shang.
She couldn’t see the scene clearly, only vaguely making out that the vast stretches of scorched yellow were gradually being covered by green. A figure in red robes was flying toward her.
A faint smile touched Yuan Ji’s lips as she closed her eyes in peace.
“Thank goodness… you’re alive.”
After that, only darkness filled her sight.
——-
“Hah!”
Yuan Ji gasped sharply, opening her eyes. She had returned to her consciousness sea.
She looked down at the amber that had lost its luster and broken into several pieces, somewhat startled. “I… didn’t I already sacrifice to the Heavenly Dao? How can I be back?”
Before she could resolve this confusion, the sealed memories, along with her feelings for Qi Guan Shang, surged over her like a tidal wave. A tear slid from the corner of her eye.
Yuan Ji touched the still-damp trace on her cheek, her heart feeling hollow. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Right, Ah Shang!” She jolted awake. After scanning her surroundings, Yuan Ji closed her eyes and withdrew from her consciousness sea.
Opening them again, that figure in red robes—identical to the one in her memory—once again appeared before Yuan Ji.
Yuan Ji’s heart gave a fierce leap.
She quickly ran toward him.
Ah Shang!
