Chapter 227
Chapter 227
The valley was vast, but the terrain wasn’t particularly steep.
All we could see in the distance were a few jagged peaks. There was no sign of any water.
The stone house was probably tucked away in some corner of the valley, right behind one of the peaks. The water might have been on the other side, hidden from view by the mountain.
We walked along the perimeter, and before long, the moon had risen.
Looking up at the perfectly round moon suspended in the sky, I suddenly realized, “So today’s the fifteenth day of the lunar month.”
We happened to reach a jutting rock. Liu Junyan wrapped an arm around me and sat down at its edge, and together we tipped our heads back to gaze at the moon.
The moonlight was clear and bright, bathing the entire valley in a soft, luminous glow.
I leaned against Liu Junyan’s chest.
I knew something had been weighing on his mind all day. He had been unusually quiet.
As we walked, he held my hand.
When we sat down, he held me in his arms.
Sometimes he would press his cheek against my hair and unconsciously nuzzle it.
He must be worried about me.
He was afraid these were my final moments, when my oil ran dry and my lamp went out.
I even suspected he was planning something.
Perhaps he was trying to find a way to prolong my life.
I didn’t mention any of it. I didn’t want to disturb the peace and beauty of this moment.
I simply nestled obediently in his arms, gazing at the moon, basking in the gentle breeze, and enjoying the valley’s scenery.
The full moon drifted silently between the clouds. Before I knew it, it was hanging high above our heads.
The instant it reached the center of the sky, the valley suddenly seemed much brighter. Faintly, I thought I heard the sound of running water.
Puzzled, I immediately sat up straight. “Ah Yan, listen. Do you hear running water?”
Liu Junyan heard it too. We immediately turned toward the sound and were astonished to discover that, at some point, a river resembling a ribbon of white silk had appeared deep in the valley.
The river stretched from east to west, its surface sparkling beneath the moonlight.
On the opposite bank stood a tall pagoda.
It was enormous, at least twenty or thirty meters high by my estimate, with a base just as wide. Tier upon tier rose into the air, majestic and awe-inspiring.
Liu Junyan and I were both stunned. We rose from the rock at the same time and stared at the pagoda for a long while.
“When did this river and pagoda appear?” I asked.
Several hours had passed since dusk. Unless we were blind, there was no way we could have overlooked such a long river or such a towering pagoda.
But neither had been there before.
Besides, neither the river nor the pagoda had appeared in any of the paintings inside the stone house.
What on earth was going on?
Could it be a mirage?
No. This environment didn’t seem capable of producing mirages at all.
“Xiao Jiu, stay here,” Liu Junyan said. “I’ll go take a look.”
I quickly grabbed his hand. “I’m coming with you.”
Liu Junyan didn’t refuse. We hurried down the slope.
The valley floor was littered with jagged rocks, making every step difficult and treacherous.
Liu Junyan gripped me by the waist and raced toward the river with me in his arms.
But when we reached the water’s edge, the sense that something was terribly wrong grew even stronger.
Because the river had no banks.
It was as if someone had painted it directly onto the valley floor.
The water seemed to flow and sparkled beneath the moonlight. We could even hear its current.
Yet when I cautiously stretched out a foot to touch the water, it felt as though I had stepped onto solid ground.
The sensation was downright eerie.
The towering pagoda across the river was even stranger.
Liu Junyan carried me in a leap across the river, intending to land in front of the pagoda and investigate it. Instead, we passed straight through its structure and landed much farther away.
Refusing to believe it, Liu Junyan tried three more times, but the result was always the same.
The instant I passed through the tower, I could even feel a powerful surge of air.
In other words, the tower might truly exist, but for some unknown reason, it had not manifested in physical form.
After all that commotion, the full moon gradually drifted away from the center of the sky, and the gorge suddenly went dark.
At the same moment, both the river and the tower vanished without a trace.
Liu Junyan and I stood in the gorge as if we had just awakened from a dream, unable to collect ourselves for a long time.
Neither Liu Junyan nor I knew how we made it back to the stone house that night, one step at a time.
Once I climbed into bed, Liu Junyan shut the doors and windows tight, not allowing even the slightest draft inside.
There was no electricity in the stone house, and the Candle remained lit.
Liu Junyan gently massaged my temples, his fingertips infused with True Qi. “It’s late, Xiao Jiu. Don’t think about anything right now. Get some sleep first. When morning comes, we’ll ask Abbot Kongji about it.”
Warmth spread through my temples, and a wave of drowsiness washed over me. I mumbled a couple of incoherent words before falling into a deep sleep.
At first, I slept soundly.
I had no idea how long I had been asleep when a burst of excruciating pain suddenly tore through the area where my ribs had liquefied.
I jolted awake.
Strangely, however, it also felt as if I had not awakened at all.
It was as though my Souls were about to drift free of my body again.
This time, though, I did not see my Souls. Instead, I saw the Buddha Lamp held in the hands of the giant Buddha.
The Lamp Oil in the Buddha Lamp was nearly gone, yet the feeble flame on the wick continued burning downward until flames filled the entire lamp.
The flames grew larger and redder, setting the Buddha Lamp aglow with vivid crimson light, inside and out.
So hot!
It hurt so much!
It felt as though my entire chest had caught fire. The scorching pain left my mouth dry and my throat parched.
In agony, I clawed at my chest, digging my fingers hard into the two liquefied ribs as if I could rip them out and crush them to pieces.
Then something seemed to wrap around my hand. I looked down and saw countless fine, root-like tendrils covering it.
They kept winding around my hand, only to be swiftly consumed by the flames and reduced to dust in an instant.
I also saw the blurred face of the Grand Witch. Her mouth kept opening and closing like that of a fish stranded beneath the blazing sun, gasping on the verge of death.
At that moment, the four words Abbot Kongji had spoken flashed through my mind…
Oil spent, lamp extinguished.
Could… could those words be referring to the Grand Witch?
If the Grand Witch truly reached the point where her oil was spent and her lamp extinguished — in other words, if she were stripped from my Souls and disappeared — what would happen to me?
When I first discovered the face of the Grand Witch, my immediate reaction had been fear. I had wanted to do everything possible to tear her away from me.
But when she truly reached the end of her strength, I realized there were far more uncertainties than I had ever considered.
“Xiao Jiu! Xiao Jiu, what’s wrong? Wake up! Hurry, wake up!”
I could hear Liu Junyan calling me. I could feel him shaking me frantically, but no matter what I did, I could not wake up.
I could only watch as the Buddha Lamp glowed redder and redder, its flames raging ever more fiercely until it seemed on the verge of exploding.
I could only watch the roots being burned away, the cracked lips and skin of the Grand Witch, and her face growing fainter and fainter.
Crack…
With that sharp sound, the face of the Grand Witch abruptly vanished.
The roots covering my two liquefied ribs disappeared along with her.
The two ribs dissolved into a puddle of water.
All that remained was the hoarse voice of the Grand Witch, urging me, “Return to Cangwu Mountain…”
And one final sentence:
“I’m sorry. I was wrong back then…”