Chapter 59: The Twilight in My Eyes

Ning Changjiu's eyes opened a slit.

A mighty wind swept across the land.

The blood on his clothes had congealed, and his blood-stained tattered robe flapped wildly in the wind. His breath was faint, and his face was terrifyingly pale. His arm remained bent, his fingers still tightly gripping the snow fox's body.

The snow fox's elation, pride, and the relief of surviving had no time to solidify into real emotions before they were extinguished by the sword that fell behind her.

She couldn't clearly see the girl's face, only felt a bone-chilling cold.

It was a sword without thickness, impossibly thin, and therefore unimaginably sharp.

Ning Changjiu struggled to lift his head, a prominent red mark on his forehead from being pressed against Ning Xiaoling for over an hour.

In his vision, a girl in black descended, wielding a sword. He couldn't see her face clearly, but he could make out her blurred figure, whose grace could captivate a city.

He knew who she was.

After that single sword stroke, the snow fox's body split open, and its demonic power dissipated.

She didn't know how Zhao Xiang'er had done it, but she knew what was happening to her body. Her eyes were filled with unwillingness.

Sounds like shattering glass occasionally rang out.

On the square Nine Spirits Platform, the fox's piercing shriek echoed for a long time.

It wanted to kill Ning Changjiu, but its arms were powerless because its body had been torn open down the center. Spiritual energy gushed out like mercury, and the cultivation it had accumulated, which should have allowed it to ascend to the Purple Court, was all lost.

And the shattering sound just now was the sound of the demon seed breaking.

In mid-air, a phantom silhouette slowly emerged.

It was an old man in blood-red robes, half-floating in the air. One sleeve conjured raging flames, while the other let loose a descending river of ice. Behind him, eight tails swayed gently.

Old Lord Red Tail!

Zhao Xiang'er looked at him, her eyes devoid of surprise or fear, as indifferent as a deity.

Old Lord Red Tail did not look at her either.

He turned around, taking one last look at the city that had suppressed him for a century, his eyes filled with the ravages of time.

On the sea of clouds, the lingering resonance of the "Go" character had faded, and the Spirit Devourer pushed aside the mists, revealing its massive head once more.

It sensed that the spiritual body it coveted had been taken by others. Golden pupils immediately filled its empty eye sockets, like two colossal golden elixirs.

And its cultivation level steadily increased as it left the world's barrier.

Just as the old fox's form was about to completely dissipate like fireworks, he looked up and saw the incomparably massive head.

The old fox had believed that at the moment of true death, nothing in the world could stir his heart, yet when he saw the skull emerging from the Sea of Ruins, his expression still changed.

An old acquaintance had suddenly reappeared.

"How... could it be you?" the old fox murmured to himself.

Memories from five centuries ago tumbled out. The faded outlines of those ancient events vaguely surfaced, yet they reeked of blood.

In the catastrophe five hundred years ago, mountains of corpses piled up, and a sea of blood surged. Humans and demons, with their broken bodies supported by swords, waded through the bloody mire. Ten thousand miles of rivers and mountains were nothing but bones and flesh.

Beneath the world's highest peak, dozens of great demons struggled to climb. They were all demon kings who had once dominated their respective domains, but now they were climbers measuring the heavens and earth with their hands and feet, uncertain of what awaited them at the summit.

But the old fox had not expected that a traitor would emerge among them...

He hated that traitor to his core. If not for him, they would not have had their physical bodies shattered and been suppressed by human dynasties.

This hatred had not dissipated in five hundred years.

Just when he thought all hope was lost, he saw this traitor again, only...

"Didn't you ascend to the Immortal Court... how did you end up like this?"

The old fox's thoughts were a tangled mess, yet in the rapid thinking of his last moments, he somehow discerned a clear thread.

He suddenly widened his eyes, gazing at the dark head and its two pairs of horns. Many vague suspicions from the past now connected.

So this was the secret the Twelve Hidden Kingdoms had desperately tried to conceal. Five hundred years ago, the Sage had indeed not deceived them.

But this realization came at the very last moment of his life.

The old fox unconsciously began to laugh, his laughter tinged with both mockery and resignation.

His form vanished like fading fireworks.

As for the great demon on the sea of clouds, its consciousness had long been extinguished, so it never once looked at this "old friend."

Ning Changjiu opened his eyes, wanting to get up, but he couldn't muster even a trace of strength.

The Spirit Devourer...

This was the Spirit Devourer that 'Ning Changjiu' had told him about. He said they were dead stars...

In the past, he had vaguely heard some accounts of Outer Demons. According to the texts, the existence of Outer Demons was Heaven and Earth's "tolerance," while their appearance was Heaven and Earth's "mistake."

Now, it seemed, those Outer Demons were the Spirit Devourers.

And every Spirit Devourer lingering in the world's fissures had an unimaginably high cultivation level in its previous life.

If it were to force its way into the human realm, who could stop it now?

After the old fox's form dissipated, the snow fox's massive tails also vanished. With the demonic nature clinging to the innate spirit removed, the little fox reverted to the size of a kitten. It lay on Ning Xiaoling's shoulder, almost weightless, and had fallen into a deep slumber.

Ning Xiaoling's body went limp and she collapsed against his chest.

Ning Changjiu coughed violently several times. He wanted to support his junior sister, but his arms merely hung limply, so their bodies collided.

Meanwhile, the Spirit Devourer had locked onto Zhao Xiang'er.

It had been drawn by the Nine Spirits, but the Nine Spirits, which should have been easily obtained, had been snatched by a young girl. It was uncontrollably enraged, plunging its sharp claws through the sea of clouds, intending to crush Zhao Xiang'er directly.

"Run!" Ning Changjiu yelled with all his might.

He knew that while the Spirit Devourer was powerful, forcing its way into a world to kill someone was like an ordinary person diving into water to catch fish. A human's strength is countless times greater than that of a grass carp, but if one dives headfirst into the water, they must eventually leave when their breath runs out.

Now, the Spirit Devourer was the human, this world was the sea, and Zhao Xiang'er was a fish in that sea.

As long as she dived to the deepest part of the water and waited for the Spirit Devourer to be forced out of this world, she could survive.

But Ning Changjiu didn't know that Zhao Xiang'er's Purple Mansion Qi Sea was riddled with holes at that moment, making it impossible for her to use any escape techniques. Meanwhile, Lu Jiajia had just barely reacted and was rushing towards the Nine Spirits Platform on her sword at extreme speed.

However, even if she carried Zhao Xiang'er away on her sword, it would be meaningless, because this "lake bottom" was too shallow. Furthermore, the Spirit Devourer's cultivation had already surpassed the Five Paths. The entire Zhao Kingdom, in its grasp, could be extinguished with a mere flick of its hand.

With the Grand Preceptor's death, the restrictions around the Nine Spirits Platform no longer existed. Many soldiers and citizens from the imperial city gathered, some out of curiosity, others genuinely wanting to do something for the Zhao Kingdom. But when the Spirit Devourer's head burst through the clouds, immense fear and pressure forced everyone to their knees.

It was late autumn, and the sunset came early. The vast sea of clouds was now tinged with a faint rosy hue. If not for the obscuring clouds, one could have seen the burning embers in the distant sky.

Zhao Xiang'er, clad in thin black robes, stood with spirit sparrows fluttering beside her. The long sword in her hand grazed the ground, leaving a faint sword mark.

She looked at the Spirit Devourer, knowing there was no longer any chance of escape.

Above the Five Paths... what an unimaginably high realm was that?

Mother, I tried my best.

She sighed softly. Even with life and death cast aside, the regret in her heart was always difficult to erase.

She suddenly walked up to Ning Changjiu, untied her hair, letting it fall loose. With her head slightly bowed and eyelids lowered, she performed a deep curtsy, lowering herself profoundly before the young man who was still kneeling on the ground.

She was the most honorable princess of the Zhao Kingdom, the daughter of a divine being. This was a courtesy she had never performed before.

After that bow, Zhao Xiang'er turned her back and walked towards the Spirit Devourer.

That was also the direction of the setting sun, where the girl had once glimpsed countless beautiful, bubble-like worlds.

On the Nine Spirits Platform, the ceaseless strong winds swept across, stinging her cheeks.

All calculations exhausted, she faced death as if returning home.

Only at this moment did she suddenly realize that for more than a decade, she had never truly lived for herself.

She had always been chasing the fiery red robes behind the golden veil. Even with death imminent, she only wanted to use death to prove her courage and fearlessness.

Her figure paused. Looking at her thin, tattered black attire, she regretted not having changed into a magnificent dress today.

Zhao Xiang'er suddenly laughed, her slender, elegant silhouette appearing even more desolate in the twilight.

Her thin lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something to the world, or perhaps just to herself.

Ning Changjiu, behind her, could vaguely hear her words.

"Fifteen years ago, the Jin army advanced, and outside the Shaho River, all valiant men perished. After seventeen days of negotiation, six hundred *li* of land were finally ceded. Zhao lost its territory, which is why my name is Xiang!"

These words reached Ning Changjiu's ears, each resonating like thunder.

The gates of memory burst open, and the light and shadow buried deep within intertwined, revealing their original forms.

"Are you sure you don't want this marriage contract?"

"Changjiu wishes to wholeheartedly dedicate himself to the Dao, and not concern himself with worldly affairs."

"Ah, Little Junior Brother, why are you so rigid and uninteresting? Why not go meet that girl? Tsk-tsk, your Second Senior Brother has already advised you: that little girl is a potential beauty who could overthrow kingdoms. Most importantly, she always causes a big stir. Senior Brother sees your cultivation life as rather plain; your life needs this kind of excitement as seasoning."

"Thank you for your kindness, Senior Brother, but I genuinely have no interest in matters of love between men and women."

"Trust Senior Brother, just try it. Otherwise, you'll regret it sooner or later. Little Junior Brother, let me tell you, when I was ordered to protect your future sister-in-law two days ago, I saw her standing alone on the high platform, explaining the origin of her name. Even I was very moved. Sigh, at that time, Senior Brother thought, if you, Little Junior Brother, had been there, this scene could have been painted."

"No matter how beautiful she is, can she be as beautiful as the scenery beyond the Grand Dao?"

The man with the saber was speechless, and exasperated, he gave himself a slap on the head.

On the high platform, the Spirit Devourer's enormous body pressed down like a mountain, and its massive hand stirred up great winds, slowly sweeping towards them.

"The missing 'earth' radical in the character 'Xiang' represents the six hundred *li* of land lost by Zhao."

"This is my inherent shackles..."

The girl slowly raised her sword, and the black spirit sparrows swirling around her let out mournful cries, while her flowing dark hair resembled a flock of crows flapping their wings across the twilight sky.

She suddenly smiled, her final whisper dissipating into the wind.

"My name is Zhao Xiang'er."

"I am Princess Xiang'er..."

The colossal hand, like an unstoppable wheel, crushed down.

"No!"

At that moment, Ning Changjiu's heart seized. He screamed hoarsely, but his words were swallowed by the great wind, not a single syllable heard.

An overwhelming sense of powerlessness, like a drowning person slowly choking on water, engulfed him. He stared wide-eyed at the silhouette, suddenly feeling immense grief.

All his trump cards were exhausted, and his low cultivation, not yet reaching the Profound realm, couldn't provide even a shred of power.

His cultivation in his previous life had been too smooth; he had almost never encountered difficulties or bottlenecks. Now, for the first time, he so desperately craved strength.

What did it matter if it was above the Five Paths? If it were his past self, this...

But there was no "if."

Zhao Xiang'er raised the black longsword, her back appearing solitary.

Just as the massive hand swept down, Lu Jiajia happened to surge past on her sword, rushing towards Zhao Xiang'er's position.

But Ning Changjiu's eyes were like dead ashes. He knew this would only add another life to the casualties.

"Sigh..."

Just as the massive hand was about to crush everyone on the high platform like ants, a sigh resounded.

It was not Ning Changjiu's sigh, nor Zhao Xiang'er's or Lu Jiajia's, but a man's rather helpless voice.

Ning Changjiu felt as if struck by lightning, his mind instantly blank, yet his eyes seemed to rekindle from dead ashes.

"Still had to come out, huh... Tsk-tsk, you attracted a Spirit Devourer above the Five Paths at just sixteen. Luckily, Master hasn't found that final disciple yet, otherwise, if he ended up with a troublesome wife like you, our little Daoist temple would probably be torn down by you."

A familiar voice, a familiar tone. This was...

Second Senior Brother!

Ning Changjiu leaned against his junior sister in his arms, his gaze trembling as he looked ahead, tears unconsciously streaming down his face.

The colossal black hand did not advance another inch.

Above the Nine Spirits Platform, a blazing light appeared. At first, it was an extremely thin line of fire, cutting across the sky at a steady pace. But as the man's voice echoed, the line of fire accelerated, like a calligrapher's smooth stroke after forming a blunt angle. The line of fire then transformed into an incandescent white. This incandescent white, with its sharp edge contained, concentrated into silvery-gray at its center, while its edges shone brightly, scorching the space around it into crimson, twisting and peeling away bit by bit, like fading embers.

In front of his eyes, it appeared as a line, a perfectly straight line, as if drawn with a ruler, flawlessly clean and sharp.

If viewed from above, it was an arc, an arc so profound as to be almost perfect. Yet at the edges of this arc, space began to crack and collapse inch by inch. Amidst a series of thunderous roars, the arc was no longer merely beautiful, but imbued with a resolute intent to cleave everything and shatter the heavens and earth.

From the appearance to the disappearance of that arc, everything happened in an incredibly short time, yet to Ning Changjiu, it felt endlessly long.

Of course he had seen such a saber; it was a saber he would never forget in his life.

This was Second Senior Brother's saber!

First Senior Sister had once, in front of him, commented on Second Senior Brother's saber technique, saying that while he was rugged and unrefined, the saber strikes he unleashed were like embroidery done by a delicate young lady—unbearably crude.

Of course, Second Senior Brother would never dare to talk back.

But how could Ning Changjiu think this was a crude saber? This was the most unparalleled saber light he had ever witnessed in his life, both in his previous life and now.

The vast sea of clouds was split by a single saber stroke, pushed by two currents of saber wind towards the outskirts of the imperial city. In the sky, the Spirit Devourer revealed its massive true form; only half of its mountain-like body was visible. Every muscle was like a colossal, hard rock. Its body was trapped at the boundary between two worlds, where glittering light shimmered like iridescent glass.

Its thick arm had been severed by one strike, the cut smooth. The arm fell, dissolving into spiritual energy in mid-air.

A man in a slightly faded coarse blue robe stood suspended in the air. The sleeve of his left arm hung loosely, revealing half of a red-lacquered saber sheath. The sleeve of his right arm was rolled up to the elbow, exposing powerful muscles. In his hand, he held a long saber, its blade gleaming like snow.

It was a large saber, with a rounded bronze guard. Its blade had a smooth curve and a pure, bright edge. The back of the blade was about half a thumb's width, suitable for chopping.

The man grinned. With a stomp of his foot, his body launched off the ground, instantly soaring into the sky. He didn't forget to glance back at the black-robed girl and said, "Junior Sister-in-law has the same demeanor as Senior Sister did in her youth. It's a pity, and yet a blessing, that Little Junior Brother, who knows where he is now, isn't destined to marry you and tear down the temple gates."

Amidst his hearty laughter, a saber strike descended, a straight white light piercing down from above. If the Spirit Devourer was a painting of an ink-splashed mountain, then this was an extremely discordant white line drawn right down the middle of the canvas.

But this white line didn't just ruin the painting's artistic concept; it tore the entire painting in half directly through the middle.

The tremendous sound was like bones being crushed and mountains crumbling. The Spirit Devourer let out a mournful wail and tried to reach out with its other hand to grasp the man who dared to strike, but its hand finally froze in mid-air. Its body had been torn apart from the middle, and its seemingly indestructible form dissolved into quicksand-like spiritual energy, dissipating into the heavens and earth.

That spiritual energy would slowly gather, forming demon clouds, becoming rain that nourished the entire Zhao Dynasty.

At this moment, with no clouds yet and no rain fallen, Lu Jiajia stood, supporting the girl. Zhao Xiang'er seemed to have exhausted all her strength and gently leaned into her embrace.

Behind them, Ning Changjiu stared blankly ahead, suddenly understanding everything.

So the familiar aura he had sensed in the imperial city these past days was never that of a junior brother, but rather his Second Senior Brother, who he remembered had long ascended to the Immortal Court.

But after ascending to the Immortal Court, it should be impossible to return to the human realm. Why, then, was Second Senior Brother standing before him now...?

"Ha... So that's it..."

Ning Changjiu laughed silently.

He understood. He understood everything.

He had been Ning Changjiu all along. This seemingly simple-minded young Daoist priest was the life he had lived before meeting his senior brothers. And his previous self, after death, had somehow reversed time and returned to this body just before this self's demise.

The foolishly naive youth, the youth devoted to cultivating the Dao, and now the youth covered in blood.

They were all Ning Changjiu, all himself.

And Zhao Xiang'er was the fiancée he had rejected when he was sixteen.

"Senior Sister, you once said that outside the Hidden Kingdoms, the dead cannot return to life, but it turns out... life can be restarted..."

He looked up, just as the evening sun was blood-red and the lingering glow consumed the sky.

The entire world seemed to be shrouded in a vast, crimson mist.

This was the sunset of the Zhao Kingdom.

And it was the very sunset he had inadvertently glimpsed when he was sixteen.