Chapter Forty-Seven: A Thread of Fate Binds a Thousand-Year Love

After Bai Ling’s soul was gravely wounded by the Black Tiger Immortal Lord, Zhao Gongming, she remained unconscious, drifting in a state both peculiar and profound. In her mind, scattered fragments of memories, some jumbled and incoherent, flickered ceaselessly; familiar yet foreign images stirred every fiber of her being. Within those visions, scenes she had never witnessed unfolded—most striking of all was a dazzling, peerless figure, so awe-inspiring she dared not approach.

In this slumber, Bai Ling saw herself—the very image of a beautiful maiden in white—appearing in her mind’s eye. She was frantic, shouting with pain and fury at that unmatched figure, her exquisite features twisted with anguish. “To reach this place, I stole sacred treasures, betrayed my sect, annihilated a hundred clans, braved countless mortal dangers—barely clinging to life, I finally arrived, and yet you tell me to ‘leave’?”

Her words, laden with endless resentment, drew no reply. The figure ignored her grievances, and a surge of ferocious energy burst forth, sweeping her away in an instant.

“I will not go! Even if I must die, I’ll die fighting by your side!” Defiance burned across her flawless face; biting her lip, she was more radiant than ever, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears and bitter grievance.

That force cast her out beyond the crimson formation, but Bai Ling’s resolve was unbroken. She summoned the Four Immortal-Slaying Swords, slashing open the barrier and charging once more into the red array.

“I will say this once more—‘Leave!’” The figure finally spoke, his voice thunderous across the heavens. The word ‘leave’ reverberated in the sky, possessing an irresistible authority; shockwaves tore through the thick clouds overhead.

As the command fell, the crimson formation shuddered violently. Ten figures revealed themselves within, towering like ten demonic gods. Fierce winds howled, obscuring their features, but their silhouettes revealed not all were men—many were women, seductive and graceful, elegant and stately alike.

Within the vision, Bai Ling saw her own face suddenly pale with terror—a rare sight, for she was unaccustomed to fear.

The ten figures wasted no time, unleashing a formidable, arcane fusion technique—the Grand Celestial Demon-Slaying Array. Rays of multicolored light engulfed the five-starred red formation, their brilliance blinding as they sped toward the dominant figure.

“You troublesome woman!”

In that perilous moment, the awe-inspiring figure appeared before Bai Ling’s dream-self, impatience lining his face. With a flicker of unknown magic, he swept her up in his arms, encasing her in mystical light and sending her outside the red formation. She could not resist, nor move—her despair was etched across her peerless visage.

With a single tear, full of regret and hopelessness, she was cast out...

“No—!”

Boom!

Suddenly, the vision froze. Bai Ling saw the twelve beams of light strike that majestic figure, and all was still.

In the blink of an eye, another vision surfaced. In it, Bai Ling herself was encased in prismatic light, and before her stood a familiar figure—Daoist Lu Ya.

What followed was all too familiar, save for the first vision, which she could not reconcile with her memory. In her recollection, that scene did not exist.

She saw Daoist Lu Ya wave his horsetail whisk, guiding the prismatic light away into the mountains and wilds.

“Hm?”

The vision shifted again, and the prismatic light appeared within the Illusory Spirit Realm. Daoist Lu Ya looked astonished, murmuring, “A unique memory seal! Such a high-level forbidden spell—only a true master could have cast it. This child’s origins are surely extraordinary!”

At last, the scattered visions stilled; nothing more appeared in Bai Ling’s mind.

She recalled Daoist Lu Ya once telling her that he had found her near the mass grave of the ancient gods’ battlefield—a place so ominous he dared not linger. Urgently, he had brought her into the Illusory Spirit Realm.

From then on, he never spoke of her past. She remained by his side in the realm for countless years. A hundred thousand years there were but a few centuries in the mortal world; a thousand years among mortals was thirty-six million years in the Illusory Realm.

Just then, a surge of primordial energy flooded Bai Ling’s mind. Her awareness, previously shrouded, grew lucid; she could hear every sound outside, sense the presences in the humble chamber, though her body remained unresponsive.

Yet, for reasons unknown, she still could not awaken.

...

Outside, in the humble room of the Martial King’s residence, Su Moran was performing a soul-mending spell upon Bai Ling. Su Su and Bai Ling’s wounds differed—Su Su had forcibly torn her soul apart, resulting in memory loss and diminished cultivation. After executing the Three Soul Separation, she relied on a shred of innate power to maintain her human form—appearing now as a little girl. Bai Ling, however, had suffered soul damage from the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation; all three souls were wounded, leaving her consciousness adrift. Restoring her soul was no easy feat, but Su Moran’s medical skills, learned from a sage across the sea, were peerless.

Suddenly, a red ‘one’ shone brilliantly on Hao Dan’s brow, and a hazy figure emerged in the chamber. It was none other than Lord Dongjun.

Su Su and Su Moran stared in shock. Dongjun’s attire was especially striking—a white, living Daoist robe, with the yin-yang symbol swirling in perpetual motion.

“Who are you, sir?” Su Su’s lovely face was filled with curiosity as she turned to Hao Dan.

Hao Dan, preoccupied with Bai Ling’s condition, noticed her pained expression easing as Su Moran’s spell took effect.

Dongjun smiled faintly, offering no answer, and only turned to Hao Dan, gazing at him in silence.

When Hao Dan realized who he was, he cried out, “Weren’t you within the Eastern Emperor Bell? Why appear now?” To the astonished pair, he introduced, “To tell you the truth, this is the spirit of the Eastern Emperor Bell, foremost among the Ten Divine Artifacts—Lord Dongjun.”

“Eastern Emperor Bell?” Su Su was incredulous—the bell held profound significance for the Dongyi people.

Su Moran’s face was unreadable beneath his ever-present hat; he disliked the curious stares of others.

“Descendant of the Nine Yi Demon Saints, Su Moran of the Canine Yi, Fox Clan of Qingqiu, pays homage to Your Majesty, the Eastern Emperor!” As if making a solemn decision, Su Moran bowed deeply to Hao Dan.

“Su Su greets Your Majesty, the Eastern Emperor!” Following suit, Su Su bowed elegantly.

“What are you doing?” Hao Dan was bewildered by the sudden display; his mind was still on Bai Ling.

Dongjun smiled coolly. “There is no need for surprise, Master. These two are descendants of the Nine Yi Demon Saints, once your loyal generals. After your fall, they lay low in Dongyi, raising their clans.”

“So that is the case! Please, rise.”

Understanding at last, Hao Dan hurried to help them to their feet.

Then Dongjun fixed a meaningful gaze upon Bai Ling, lying on the bed. Hao Dan and Su Su sensed his intent, and Hao Dan quickly asked, “Dongjun, do you have a way to heal Bai Ling’s soul?”

Dongjun shook his head regretfully. “This girl shares with you a bond left unresolved from a prior life—one ordained by Heaven, and a private matter for you, Master. I dare not intervene. Once you merge with your human soul, all will become clear.”

“So you have the means but refuse to help? She is the most important person to me—I will not allow you to watch her die!”

“Please do not be angered, Master. The matter is more complex than you know. Once you have merged your heavenly and human souls, you will regain all memories of your past life—becoming the true Eastern Emperor. You will no longer be so easily placated. In your current reincarnated form, your character is still not fully matured. When your strength and memories return, not even a hundred of me would dare meddle in your affairs!”

Dongjun spoke the truth—he was merely the artifact spirit of the Eastern Emperor Bell, once utterly loyal to Emperor Taiyi. None knew Taiyi’s character better.

“Outrageous!” Hao Dan was filled with rage.

Su Su and Su Moran stood respectfully aside, afraid to interrupt. They listened quietly, gleaning what information they could.

Just then, the voice of the Heavenly Soul sounded in Hao Dan’s mind. “Don’t forget our agreement.”

“I know,” Hao Dan replied, his heart in turmoil. Soon, he would reveal his identity to his adoptive father, Cheng Tang, and begin the fusion of his heavenly and human souls. After that, he wondered if he would still be himself.

“My patience is limited. The time left to you is short. If you continue to hesitate and dither, don’t blame me for forcibly erasing your consciousness. Even if my three souls are not complete, it is not impossible.” The warning was clear.

“Tomorrow I will tell my adoptive father everything. When our three souls merge, do not forget your promise—my current memories and self must not be destroyed.”

Hao Dan had bargained with the Heavenly Soul; the earthly soul would submit, but his present memories and consciousness must remain.

“Of course,” said the Heavenly Soul, then fell silent. Peace returned to Hao Dan’s heart.

Even Dongjun could not pierce their private conversation. He had already intervened in the Tower of Heavenly Fate; he dared not risk any harm to the three souls of Emperor Taiyi.

Dongjun now explained, “I have appeared mainly for you two. As descendants of the Dongyi Demon Saints, you are best suited to protect the Master, who, in his current state, needs powerful guardians.”

“We are honored to serve,” replied Su Moran, glancing at Su Su.

“I, Su Su, will gladly pledge loyalty to His Majesty, the Eastern Emperor.”

Su Su gave a graceful bow, then turned apologetically to Dongjun. “There is internal turmoil among the Dongyi. Not long ago, I was almost killed by the sorcery of the priestesses of the Seven Star Tower in Yu City. Had I not encountered the Emperor in the banyan woods of the southern marsh, and had he not risked his life to save me, I would have perished.”

“So you came to this house to express your gratitude?” Hao Dan finally understood Su Su’s purpose.

“Exactly. But I beg Your Majesty for some time—my people cannot wait. I must hasten to the Nine Yi tribes to resolve their crisis.”

“There is no need to delay; set out at once!” The Heavenly Soul’s voice rang out, cold and commanding, sending a chill through everyone in the room—including Dongjun.

What happens next? Stay tuned for the following chapter!