Chapter 38: The Illusion of the Golden Light

                                                

Meng Ruji felt as if she were falling endlessly through the void. Wind roared in her ears, growing louder and louder until she suddenly hit the ground with a sharp, crushing pain that jolted her awake.

When her eyes fluttered open, she saw a gray, oppressive sky tangled with barren branches. The world around her was lifeless and cold—withered trees stretched across desolate earth, not a trace of green to be found.

The silence was suffocating. Then, through this colorless world, a familiar figure appeared—Mu Sui. His presence alone brought a faint hue back to this bleak landscape.

He still had one arm bound in a sling, his expression distant and cold. After a long, quiet moment of observation, he confirmed she wasn’t injured and extended a hand.

Meng Ruji grasped it and was pulled to her feet, still dizzy.
“Where… is this?” she asked, blinking at the gray horizon. “Are we still in that forest from before? How is it already daylight?”

Mu Sui’s tone was calm but icy. “We’ve been dragged into an illusion by a malevolent aura. Inside an illusion, time flows differently—entirely at the will of its master.”

“Malevolent aura? Master of the illusion?” Meng Ruji frowned as the memory flickered back. “Oh… Ye Dahe…”

She rubbed her temple. “What kind of illusion did he pull us into this time?”

Mu Sui gave her a sideways glance. “How would I know? Mountain Lord Meng, shouldn’t you remember your shared past with him better than anyone else?”

Meng Ruji’s confusion deepened. “Our past? What kind of past could I possibly have with Ye Dahe?”

Mu Sui’s eyes darkened. “Ask your conscience.”

Here it came again—another suffocating question she couldn’t answer.

Meng Ruji pressed her aching temples, the pain drawing her back to that day on Xuejing Cliff when Ye Chuan descended from the heavens, demanding she speak his courtesy name.

But she couldn’t. She hadn’t remembered anything. And that forgotten thread of fate had brought heavenly lightning upon her, striking her into the Realm of No Return.

She sighed helplessly. “I really can’t remember anything.”

Mu Sui gave a bitter laugh. “No wonder Ye Dahe scolded you for being heartless and fickle.”

“Tsk…” Meng Ruji tried to reason patiently. “Control yourself, Qianshan Jun! Whatever happened between me and Ye Dahe has nothing to do with you. Could you please restrain that sour expression? We’re grasshoppers on the same rope right now! If we don’t cooperate, we’ll both die here. Stop acting jealous!”

Mu Sui turned away, exhaling deeply. He knew she was right, and he tried—tried—to rein in his emotions.

But how could he?

Wasn’t he the same as her—bound, powerless, trapped by emotions he couldn’t control?

That Ye Dahe deserved to die!

With a sharp crack, Mu Sui stomped down, crushing a stone beneath his heel.

The forest around them was eerily still, both of them lost in uneasy silence. Then, faintly, from the distance came the sound of rustling—and a voice.

“Don’t… leave me behind… Why did you leave me…” The voice trembled, filled with despair. “Is there anyone… anyone there…”

Meng Ruji and Mu Sui exchanged glances.

“The sound is coming from behind that hillside.”

Before Meng Ruji could finish, Mu Sui was already striding ahead.

“Be quieter!” she hissed, following. “If he discovers us—”

“He’s the master of the illusion,” Mu Sui cut her off. “He knows we’re here regardless.”

“Even so,” Meng Ruji muttered, keeping her voice low, “rushing toward him like this feels reckless. Shouldn’t we take a roundabout way…”

But within moments, they reached the low ridge. Mu Sui crouched behind a withered tree, and Meng Ruji followed, nimble as a cat. Together, they peered down the slope.

A young man was trapped in the swamp below. Both his legs were buried deep in the marsh. His trembling hands clung desperately to a dead tree root by the shore, lips pale, face ghostly blue.

Once his strength failed, he would be swallowed whole.

Meng Ruji frowned and shifted forward slightly, but Mu Sui stopped her.
“Want to save him? Too late. This is his memory. You can’t be the savior inside someone else’s past.”

She sank back into hiding but muttered, “You could at least speak less sarcastically.”

Mu Sui ignored her, his face turning rigid.

Meng Ruji followed his gaze—and froze too.

Down below stood… herself.

Her hair was disheveled, her eyes unfocused, her whole body glowing faintly with golden light.

“The past me…” Meng Ruji’s eyes widened. “Wait—this moment! It’s this moment!”

Mu Sui’s tone was sharp. “What moment?”

“This was when the Inner Core first entered my body,” she said slowly. “I wasn’t in my right mind…”

The hazy girl below—her past self—staggered toward the dying man.

Ye Chuan, trapped in the swamp, lifted his head. When he saw her surrounded by light, shock and hope filled his fading eyes.

“Miss…” His voice trembled. “Save me…”

But the girl didn’t see him. She stepped straight into the swamp.

“Miss!” Ye Chuan shouted desperately, but she kept walking, sinking deeper and deeper until the golden glow vanished beneath the mud.

The real Meng Ruji pressed a hand to her forehead. “I… was not in my right mind back then. Even now, I can’t recall what happened or how many days passed.”

Mu Sui’s lips curled. “Mountain Lord Meng, your luck truly defies the heavens. Otherwise, you’d never have lived this long.”

His mockery stung—but she couldn’t argue.

Just then, a blinding golden smoke began rising from the swamp. Light burst upward like a buried sun awakening beneath the mud. The entire swamp exploded—mud and stones flying into the air before crashing down in chaos.

Ye Chuan was thrown aside, landing hard on the ground. His arm was gashed, blood mixing with filth. Covered in dirt, he stared blankly ahead.

When the smoke cleared, the swamp had become a deep crater. At its center stood the girl—Meng Ruji, glowing faintly, still walking forward.

Step by step, she approached Ye Chuan. Her muddy form shimmered, the filth on her clothes evaporating into golden mist.

She looked divine.

“Blood…” the girl murmured faintly.

Then, like a begonia petal caught in wind, she fell softly into Ye Chuan’s arms.

He froze, cradling her carefully. The golden light around her steadied, no longer flickering.

Meng Ruji, watching from above, turned red from embarrassment.

Mu Sui leaned back against the tree, arms crossed, his tapping fingers betraying irritation. His expression was cold enough to freeze an ocean.

“Impressive technique for someone so young, Mountain Lord Meng.”

“I—!” Meng Ruji rubbed her forehead. “I wasn’t! I was unconscious! My mind wasn’t right!”

Mu Sui snorted and turned away.

Down below, the “scene” continued.

The night passed. Ye Chuan still held her without moving, afraid to disturb her sleep. The wound on his arm clotted into dark scabs, ugly against his pale skin.

“Miss,” he whispered, gazing at her sleeping face. “I am Ye Chuan of Lingxi Sect, a healer by training. My talent drew envy, and my martial uncle lured me here, seeking my death. Were it not for you, I would have perished.”

The sleeping girl said nothing, but the real Meng Ruji covered her face and muttered, “There was no sacrifice…”

Mu Sui shot her a sidelong look but remained silent.

Ye Chuan’s voice softened. “You and I… have shared an intimate fate. If you’re willing, may I know your name? When I return, I will ask for your hand in marriage…”

“I didn’t say anything! I was unconscious!” Meng Ruji swore, mortified.

Mu Sui exhaled sharply, trying not to laugh.

Then, in the memory, the girl murmured weakly, “Sheng…”

“Shengsheng?” Ye Chuan repeated joyfully. “So that’s your name!”

Meng Ruji felt her soul leave her body.

Mu Sui crossed his arms, eyes glacial. “So your name is Shengsheng, Mountain Lord Meng?”

“It’s my childhood name…” she admitted weakly.

Mu Sui tilted his head toward the gray sky. “How charming.”

She had no words left.

Below, Ye Chuan smiled tenderly. “When you wake, I’ll take you to meet your parents.”

“My parents were already gone by then…” Meng Ruji murmured lifelessly.

But Ye Chuan couldn’t hear her.

“I’ll seek their blessing, then return to the sect and punish my betrayers. Once that’s done, I’ll come to marry you.”

“…No need,” Meng Ruji whispered.

“Shengsheng,” he murmured, his face flushing. “My surname is Ye, given name Chuan. I haven’t taken a courtesy name yet. I thought of one—‘Buxi.’ Rivers carry all things, unending and vast. Do you think it suits me?”

The sleeping girl gave no response.

Above, Meng Ruji sighed heavily. “Honestly, not a good choice… maybe change it…”

Mu Sui muttered through clenched teeth, “Utter nonsense.”

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