Fleeting Dream Across Three Lifetimes - Chapter 22

“Yes, yes. You are our daughter, only you were gravely ill from birth. Your dad and mom had no choice but to heed your great-grandfather’s words, sending your hun soul and po soul into another world. There, you could not cultivate, and so you would not suffer heaven’s punishment. Once you endured that period, we would find the right opportunity to bring you back.” Qin Zhitíng, fearing she might be afraid, quickly explained everything. Now that Qin Mohan remembered almost nothing, he patiently told her what was necessary.

One Qin ancestor possessed great powers, abilities beyond ordinary men. Not only did she hold the force of reincarnation, she also secured the dragon veins to preserve her descendants’ prosperity, seizing the fortune of the world and bringing the Qin clan to its peak. But it was said that her brilliance was too dazzling, defying the cycle of heaven’s reincarnation, and so the Heavenly Dao grew wrathful and cast divine punishment upon her. The Qin family’s natural talents began to decline generation after generation, yet always one direct descendant would be born bearing immense fortune, not only with an exceptional spiritual root but also inheriting the power of reincarnation. Such a person could directly peer into the highest realm of cultivation attained in their past life’s cycle. Thus, their comprehension and cultivation speed defied the heavens, and as their practice deepened, they could even wield spiritual power across realms.

One must know, many people spend their whole lives unable to perceive the Dao of Heaven, trapped at cultivation barriers. But one who can glimpse what they comprehended in a former life can easily break through any barrier they had once reached.

It sounded flawless. Yet because the fortune was too great, heaven grew jealous of talent. Children like this in the Qin family often faced turbulent lives—many lost themselves in madness, unable to distinguish past life from present, or were born with flaws and died young. For centuries, no prodigy of such talent had appeared. The direct Qin bloodline dwindled, leaving only Qin Zhitíng and his younger sister Qin Chujun in this generation. But Qin Chujun was born frail, unable to cultivate, and had already passed away, leaving all hope on Qin Zhitíng.

At last, three hundred years after their marriage, Yan Qing became pregnant. Yet Qin Zhitíng’s grandfather divined that the child again bore the power of reincarnation. According to the hexagrams, if born here, the child’s fate was to die young.

No one knew how the old master of the Qin family had learned of a method of salvation, but he said this world was not the only one—there were realms beyond heaven’s control. If the child were sent there, the so-called punishment would not exist. So upon birth, Qin Mohan’s hun soul was cast into another world. When the time was right, they would summon her back. Meanwhile, her body was carefully nurtured by the elders of the Qin family, and even without a soul, it continued to grow.

Only, when the time came to summon her back, Qin Mohan’s soul behaved strangely, refusing to return, instead drawn into Ying City. At first they were anxious beyond measure, but the old master stopped them from interfering. Not until a few days ago, when Qin Mohan’s hun soul was forcibly pulled and put in danger, did they summon her back by force. Yet the human hun was nowhere to be found, leaving the couple deeply distressed.

After hearing it all, Qin Mohan remained calm. Lifting her eyes to the two of them, she said softly, “I understand. Only, of the things you say I experienced before, I cannot remember a single one.”

Qin Zhitíng sighed. “The human hun governs emotions and memory. Without it, of course you cannot recall. But I will send people to find your human hun soul. You have only just awakened, do not think too much. I still have matters to attend to, I will let your mom accompany you.” Saying so, he hurried out.

Yan Qing knew what he intended to do, yet she only sat in her chair, staring unblinking at Qin Mohan, her eyes brimming with sorrow and longing until tears welled up.

Qin Mohan did not know what to say. Clearly, seeing her so grieved, she ought to offer comfort. Yet within her heart not a ripple stirred. She could only say flatly, “Do not cry. I have returned. Compared to dying at birth, to meet again after twenty-two years, you should be glad.” Her reasoning was perfectly logical, but her voice carried little warmth, cold and hard.

Yan Qing froze, remembering Grandfather’s words. She knew it was not that her daughter lacked emotion, but that without the human hun soul, all that remained was reason.

***

Meanwhile, once Qin Zhitíng left the room, he immediately teleported to the front of the main hall and struck the great drum, its thunderous sound echoing through the Qin estate. With joy and excitement filling his voice, he cried, “Children of the Qin family, your little master has returned!”

His powerful voice carried far. At the news, the Qin clansmen erupted in thunderous cheers. At last, there was hope! For centuries, the most gifted Qin cultivators had only reached the Void realm, never producing a single Innate realm expert. For the foremost clan of the cultivation world, this was a crippling blow. Now, the little master said to bear the power of reincarnation had returned—the future of the Qin family rested upon her!

When word spread that Qin Mohan had awakened, the whole Qin family rejoiced. Qin Zhitíng’s father, the clan patriarch, personally ordered a grand feast. Even the old master, who had not appeared since Qin Mohan’s birth, emerged from seclusion, wishing to meet her.

Originally, since Qin Mohan remembered nothing, Yan Qing was reluctant to let her face so many people. But as even Grandfather had come, she could not refuse, only repeating endless reminders, fearing Qin Mohan might feel ill at ease.

Though unaccustomed to the emptiness in her mind, Qin Mohan still understood what must be done. When meeting Qin Song and Qin Qiming, apart from her expression being rather cold, her bearing was otherwise faultless.

Qin Song, already more than a thousand years old, looked no older than forty. Standing beside his son Qin Baichuan, one could scarcely see any difference in age. His gaze was gentle and wise as he studied Qin Mohan, and after a long silence, he said softly, “Han-er, come here.”

Qin Mohan obeyed, stepping forward and bowing respectfully. “Greetings, Great-Grandfather.”

“Do you find it difficult, remembering nothing?” the old man asked softly, watching her.

Qin Mohan pressed her lips together. “The feeling is unpleasant, but it does not stop me from moving forward.”

Slowly, Qin Song smiled and nodded. “Go see your grandfather and your clansmen. They have placed their hopes on you. From now on, the road will be hard. But we will also grant you enough time to grow. Go on.”

Yan Qing had already explained to Qin Mohan the current circumstances. Without the human hun, though her memories were gone, she possessed enough reason to judge what she faced. She nodded lightly in response.

Beside Qin Song stood a hooded elder who had remained silent. Watching her walk toward the front hall, Qin Song asked in a low voice, “Elder Mu, what do you think of this child?”

After a long pause, the man lifted his head, revealing a withered face. His hoarse voice sounded slowly. “Without the human hun, there is nothing more to be said. Still, she is an excellent seedling.”

Qin Song laughed, for to draw praise from Elder Mu meant she was far more than just a fine seedling.

***

From that day forward, the Qin family had a little master. She did not like to speak, wore little expression, and handled everything with reason so cold it seemed inhuman. Yet there was another way she was unlike an ordinary person—her astonishing cultivation speed. Returning at twenty-two with all memories gone, her body had never once touched spiritual power, yet in her very first attempt she succeeded in drawing qi into her body. In less than two months she established her foundation, leaving everyone in awe. Those who had doubted that twenty years without cultivation would waste even the greatest talent had all their doubts erased.

But though Qin Mohan practiced with near madness every day, at night her chest always felt heavy. She could not shake the sense that she had forgotten something vital. Yet without her human hun soul, no matter how hard she tried, it was futile. She could only first cultivate for a time to set others’ minds at ease, then later go herself to seek out her soul.

Su Zining had no idea that the person she longed for day and night had already become the Qin family’s little master. She could only cling to her only treasure, struggling once more for survival in the pitch-black burial ground.

Heaven at least granted her a sliver of fortune. Entering the Burial Grounds for the second time, she was no longer as desperate and terrified as before, blundering everywhere into countless horrors.

The Burial Grounds was dark, the heavy black mist blotting out the sky, and only where the fog thinned could anything be seen at all. Deathly energy lingered, the chill cutting into bone. Fortunately, with her foundation established, Su Zining no longer suffered as before. Clutching the Soul-Gathering Lamp, she watched the broken remnant souls swirl about her. From time to time a clump of black mist would cackle hideously and hurl itself at her, only to be swept aside with a strike of the Qiankun Fan, dissipating into shrieking haze.

If one peered through gaps in the mist from above, one would see Su Zining alone, solitary, walking slowly through the fog. Beneath her feet stretched hundreds of li of bones, long since rotted, though the garments upon them remained intact, only dust-stained. So many had perished in that great battle.

The cave dwelling of the Great Ascension cultivator she remembered lay beside the battlefield where the devils and cultivators had once fought. But amidst the endless black fog with no landmarks to guide her, Su Zining could not be sure of its location. She wandered aimlessly, sometimes attacked by skeletal figures clawing their way from the earth, moving grotesquely, striking straight at the back of her head.

Luckily she had faced them before. Spinning, she drove her spirit-infused sword into one’s spine, snapping it quickly and robbing it of motion.

Even so, she was but at the Foundation Establishment stage. As she pressed on, her clothes were torn to rags, her body covered in blood. Strands of devil qi crept into her wounds, making veins bulge in agony. She could only barely hold them off with the Qiankun Fan, forcing her body forward mechanically. She had to find the cave, or she would die here.

Yet she always found it strange. The first time she had entered the Burial Grounds, her cultivation was weak and she had hardly used the Qiankun Fan, yet in this place drowning with devil qi she had survived. Devil qi invading the body should have torn her apart, yet though the pain had been fierce, it never destroyed her foundation. No wonder she had once been mistaken for a devil cultivator.

The devil qi wound around her, making every wound throb as though pierced by needles and bitten by ants. Gritting her teeth against it, she suddenly caught the sound of battle nearby. Her eyes lit up. The farther she walked, the clearer the clash became, until she faintly heard a cry, heavy as a bell, “Kill!”

Grinding her teeth, she pressed on. Soon it unfolded before her eyes—an endless expanse where the mist thinned, flickers of light and shadow flashing within. This was the place where cultivators had struck down the Devil Emperor.

Suddenly, from both sides of the open ground, two armies appeared, each warrior towering two zhang tall, faces grim with murderous intent, their auras so powerful that even Su Zining, who had seen them before, could not help but tremble. It was the scene of that ancient war. Ten thousand years had passed, yet the lingering wills of those fallen here had never dispersed, trapped eternally in this place without light. They no longer remembered they were dead, endlessly repeating the fierce battle of long ago.

Su Zining stared blankly at the woman in white at their head. Her face was hidden, yet her immortal bearing was ethereal. She raised her bow, spiritual power gathering, loosing a golden feathered arrow that split the air. The rushing wind was as real as ever—no, it was real. The arrow struck, exploding the ground apart, dust billowing skyward and hurling Su Zining backward. For some reason, though the scene was awe-inspiring, the moment she saw that woman’s fading image, her heart ached with suffocating pain. Just like before, it was unbearable. She pressed a hand to her eyes, dampness seeping through, and could not understand. She admired them, yes, but why was she weeping?

Only when the surging power washed over her did she startle and hurry to retreat. Looking back, she saw the Devil Emperor and Six Great Guardians locked in combat with the cultivators. Gazing at the emperor clad in crimson armor, Su Zining still found it hard to believe—the truth carried down for nearly ten millennia, yet scarcely known to any—that the Devil Emperor… was a woman. Her eyes swept that slender figure, strange emotions rising before she forced them down.

The clash of supreme masters tore the sky, ghosts howling around the battlefield. This was the true terror of the Burial Grounds.

Exhausted and nearly drained of spirit power, Su Zining at last found the cave dwelling. Its wards had long since crumbled under ten thousand years of devil qi and baleful energy, likely shattered also by that ancient battle. Through that opening, she finally slipped inside.

Collapsing within, Su Zining lay helpless on the ground and sank into deep sleep. In her dreams, she never noticed the small chest on her breast suddenly glowing faintly, its light linking with the Soul-Gathering Lamp she had set aside, pulsing softly.

No one knew how much time passed before sleeping Su Zining suddenly felt her heart jolt. Half-conscious, she opened her eyes. When her gaze fell upon the box that had slipped from her arms, lying empty on the ground, her heart leapt in alarm.

Sitting up in panic, she cried urgently, “Mohan!”

Her voice echoed through the hollow cave. Frantically, Su Zining looked around, only to see a tiny creature scurrying about in terror, making her freeze in shock.