At this moment, Bai Ke was like someone who had just awoken from a deep dream.

 

"I’m not?" Bai Zixu’s expression seemed like it was slowed down in a film reel, shifting from surprise to confusion, and then gradually turning into calm indifference. As his expression changed, his features in Bai Ke’s eyes became clearer and clearer, until they were almost identical to Junxiao’s.

Along with the increasing clarity of his features, Bai Zixu’s appearance was also changing.

Bai Ke watched helplessly as the face he was most familiar with slowly morphed, from the contours of his eyebrows and eyes, nose, and lips—each small change subtle—but the final face that emerged bore little resemblance to Bai Zixu.

However, Bai Ke didn’t find this face unfamiliar, because… it was the face he himself was currently wearing.

To be more precise, it was Bai Lingchen’s face.

The only difference was that one was a teenager, and the other from his young adulthood.

"You…" Bai Ke opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. After all, anyone would be momentarily thrown off by such a bizarre situation.

But the person in front of him seemed to be even more at a loss. He seemed to feel the changes in his features and reached up to touch his face. His expression was cold, like Bai Lingchen’s, but when he spoke, the voice was still Bai Zixu’s: "I… then who am I? What have I turned into? Who am I…?"

His tone, full of confusion and surprise, created an eerie contrast with his calm, detached expression.

As his voice grew more panicked, his appearance flickered like a malfunctioning videotape, flashing between Bai Zixu’s face and Bai Lingchen’s. The rapid changes left Bai Ke stunned, unsure how to react, standing there in a daze.

"What’s wrong with you?!" At that moment, Bai Ke seemed to slip into a half-dazed state. He reached out toward the person in front of him, as if to pull him or support him.

But as soon as his hand touched the person’s sleeve, the figure distorted and blurred, like an image in disturbed water.

In the final moment, when the person looked up at Bai Ke, his face returned to Bai Zixu’s, and in the instant when Bai Ke was lost in thought, two streams of deep crimson blood tears fell from his eyes, and then, like a house that had lost its beams and load-bearing walls, the man collapsed and fell to the ground.

"Dad!" In that instant, Bai Ke lost his grip on his rationality.

He forgot that the person in front of him should be someone else in disguise. All he saw was Bai Zixu, bleeding from all seven orifices and crashing to the ground—something he simply could not bear to witness.

"What’s wrong with you?!" Bai Ke nearly collapsed, wanting to rush forward to check, but someone grabbed his wrist from behind.

He urgently turned around, trying to shake off the hand that held him, but instinctively, when he waved his arm, it still felt like he was brushing through water.

"Junxiao?!" Bai Ke stood frozen, his mind blank—

He saw that the person who had been holding his wrist, Huo Junxiao, now looked like Bai Zixu—his image flickering like a water reflection. After a brief moment, blood began to spill from his eyes, mouth, and ears. He looked deeply at Bai Ke, silently saying something, before collapsing to the ground, making no sound again.

Soon after, Yu Xian, Lin Jie, and the others began to show the same signs, as if they were infected by the same affliction.

There were faint sighs, pained moans, cries, and screams around him…

Everything began to descend into chaos once more.

But as more and more people collapsed, Bai Ke gradually transitioned from confusion to calm… because he refused to believe it.

At first, if he had been thrown into a state of rational confusion by seeing Bai Zixu and Huo Junxiao collapse before his eyes, now, he had regained his composure. Everything happening before him, not a single piece of it, did he believe!

Would Junxiao and Yu Xian simply lose their lives like this? And without even a clear reason before their death? That was absurd!

Having experienced a previous illusion, Bai Ke immediately decided in his mind that this was another illusion, without much thought.

But when exactly did this illusion begin?

Was it when he smelled that bitter fragrance again? Or did it start when Bai Zixu appeared? Or was it even earlier, when he woke up from the last illusion and unknowingly fell into this one?

Or perhaps… he had never truly woken up, and had been struggling within the same illusion all along.

The last time an illusion had been uncovered, Bai Ke hadn't been deeply concerned. After all, he thought he had successfully escaped it. But this time, even though he now knew this was another illusion, he didn't feel the slightest sense of relief because he didn’t know if he would ever truly wake up from it, or if he would just fall deeper into the next illusion…

And the most terrifying thing was perhaps the cycle of illusions, one after another. When he became numb, he could no longer distinguish what was real.

He suddenly thought of the "Nine Killing Formation" mentioned by the Hengtian Sect—the formation that even Yu Xian could only guess about and didn’t fully understand. Could it be the reason he was trapped in this endless cycle of illusions?

If the "Nine Killing Formation" was indeed designed to confuse people like this... how many people could maintain their clarity and find a way to break the formation amidst so many tangled truths and falsehoods?

Bai Ke, once again deeply worried, began to lose consciousness. It felt just like the moment he had slipped back into darkness when he had escaped the previous illusion...

He didn’t know how long he had drifted in the darkness when a childlike voice faintly sounded, distant as though coming from the high mountains at dawn. The voice lazily and carelessly hummed an unknown tune—

"Looking up, one can observe the sky; looking down, one can listen to dust. Between looking up and looking down, the clouds stretch a thousand miles, the mountains and rivers last ten thousand years…"

(NT: from the poet Lao Tzu. These lines reflect the philosophical concepts of the Daoist worldview, particularly the ideas of balance, the unity of opposites, and the vast, eternal nature of the universe.)

Clouds stretching a thousand miles…

Mountains and rivers lasting ten thousand years…

Bai Ke furrowed his brows, his fingers twitching slightly.

He felt his awareness slowly returning after being lost for so long, his senses gradually coming back…

This time, he woke in a place of calm, and as his hearing became clearer, he didn’t hear any human voices, only the sound of dribbling water.

His instinct told him that the place he had woken up in was different, though he couldn't immediately identify what was different.

But the next second, he froze—

Normally, when his consciousness gradually returned, even if he didn’t open his eyes, the outline of his surroundings would slowly appear in his increasingly clear vision. When he opened his eyes, everything would become even clearer. But this time, when he didn’t open his eyes, there was only darkness in front of him, though not completely dark—it had a faint reddish tint.

Bai Ke hesitated for a moment, a guess that he didn’t dare to consider forming in his mind.

He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes.

The vast sky, drifting clouds, flowing spring water, distant mountains… All the scenery around him appeared clearly, as if he had captured every detail, in full color.

This confirmed his guess—he could see, in the way a normal person would, at least for now, in this moment, in this illusion that seemed more real than reality itself, his eyes had returned to normal.

Bai Ke turned over and sat up. Before he could rejoice, he noticed something unusual—he could see through his palm, seeing the folds of his clothes beneath it.

He looked down in surprise at his hands and feet, then stood up, dazed, and confirmed that his body was indeed transparent—he was not a solid being. After standing, he realized that the place where he had been lying still held someone else.

The person lying there was strikingly handsome, with long black hair and dressed in snow-white robes, with slender hands folded on their abdomen. If not for the pale complexion and a trace of blood at the corner of their lips, they could have been mistaken for someone peacefully asleep.

Bai Ke glanced down at his own robes, noticing that they were identical to the ones the person lying down was wearing—from the fine embroidery to the hems. It looked like a celestial being’s attire, completely different from the Hengtian Sect disciple robes he had worn before he lost consciousness.

As for the person lying there, Bai Ke didn’t recognize his attire, but he recognized his face…

It was Bai Lingchen.

Bai Ke froze for a moment, then realized his current situation—clearly, he was now standing here in the form of Bai Lingchen’s soul, though he didn’t know if others could see him.

This question was answered a few seconds later, because, after snapping out of his surprise, Bai Ke noticed that the place where he stood was a round stone platform, deeply carved with intricate patterns. The surface was filled with interwoven runes, with faint golden light flowing through the grooves. Just less than half a meter away from the stone platform, floating in mid-air, was the familiar figure of Elder Yu Xian. His arms were raised, palms facing outward, as he slowly channeled his spiritual energy into the formation on the stone platform, the golden light flowing from him.

Yu Xian frowned, his eyes heavy as he looked at Bai Lingchen lying on the stone platform. Then, he let out a soft sigh before slowly closing his eyes again, completely ignoring Bai Ke’s presence.

If even someone with Yu Xian’s cultivation couldn’t see Bai Ke, it seemed that, apart from himself, no one else here knew he existed.

But where was this? Why was Bai Lingchen lying there in a weakened state, unconscious?

Bai Ke lowered his head, contemplating for a moment, before stepping down from the stone platform. The snowy hem of his robes brushed past the edge of the platform but didn’t pick up a speck of dust.

It seemed like they were on a high cliff. Though Bai Ke had never been here before, his legs seemed to instinctively know the way, guiding him past several tall pillars, out of the ritual-like area, and straight through a forest.

In just a few minutes, he watched as the vibrant green leaves turned yellow, shriveled, and fell, like a heavy, colorful rain in the wind. When he stepped out of the forest, snowflakes were already falling in large swaths, covering the sky.

In this illusion-like place, time seemed to move in fast-forward with every step Bai Ke took. Everything appeared to accelerate, as if the seconds themselves were rushing by.

Once out of the forest, he found himself on a wide cliff top, where he could see an eroded stone standing at the edge.

Although the snowstorm was so heavy it nearly obscured everything, making it hard to see clearly even a few meters ahead, Bai Ke instantly recognized the inscription carved into the large stone as soon as he saw it—

‘Looking up, one can observe the sky; looking down, one can listen to dust. Between looking up and looking down, the clouds stretch a thousand miles, the mountains and rivers last ten thousand years.’

At the end of this inscription, in the lower left corner of the stone, were two more characters—the name of this mountain: "云浮" (NT: Yunfu)

Everything was so clear, as if it had truly entered his eyes.

In that moment, Bai Ke felt as if he had just woken from a long dream, realizing with a sense of disorientation that he didn’t see this place, but remembered it…

He remembered this place...

He remembered the cliff top high in the clouds, the dark, divine stone, the flowing calligraphy carved on it, and this Yunfu Palace…

 

Translator : DarNan