GD Ch. 61 Part 2

Chapter 61: Do You Blame Me?

She had resented her at first, when she was abandoned. But then, as a thousand years of memories flooded her mind, she had no time to dwell on resentment. Later, realizing Zhuyou had been in no state to care for her, the resentment faded.

She had bathed in divine light for seven days, hoping Zhuyou, wherever she was, would recover quickly. Then she had secluded herself for a hundred years, not just for the sake of the Three Realms or herself, but also for this elusive bird.

In the past, she had felt uneasy if she couldn’t see Zhuyou for even a moment. But after spending so much time alone in the heavens, she had grown accustomed to solitude, no longer feeling lonely or bored.

Hearing Changying say she had resented her stirred something strange in Zhuyou’s heart.

Having been a devil for two hundred years, she knew devils shouldn’t be sentimental or concerned with such matters. Yet, it felt as if a hole had been carved into her heart, and the blood at its tip turned cold.

Was it because the heart’s blood was influenced by its original owner?

Her eyes flickered as she said slowly, “A hundred years have passed. It’s all in the past. There’s no need to hold a grudge.”

Changying’s chest heaved, and a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. She suppressed the turmoil in her heart, swallowing down the questions that rose in her throat, and instead said, “I don’t hold a grudge.”

“Then what do you want now?” Zhuyou’s hand on the table twitched, her fingers brushing the edge of the Turbid Mirror, intending to distance herself while Changying was distracted.

But Changying remained focused, staring at her intently, her pupils already returned to normal. Calmly, she said, “I know everything, and I will make the appropriate decisions.”

Before Zhuyou could react, the Turbid Mirror was flipped back, slamming onto the table with a thud that shook the wooden surface.

Zhuyou had planned to dissolve into smoke and escape, but Changying suddenly interlaced her fingers with Zhuyou’s, forcing her hand onto the mirror.

The moment she touched the mirror, Zhuyou felt as if her soul was being pulled into it. Changying’s spiritual energy made it impossible to escape, and she… was forcibly pressed into the Turbid Mirror.

As she entered the mirror, it was as if she had fallen into chaos. Everything before her eyes twisted together like smoke.

Figures intertwined, mountains and seas overlapped, and the sun and moon seemed to merge into one.

The surroundings alternated between extreme cold and scorching heat, one moment icy, the next boiling. Even the paths before her were tangled—forest trails, city streets, and mountain paths all jumbled together, as if countless realms had been stacked atop one another.

Zhuyou looked up sharply to see upside-down stone towers and wooden houses above her. After a moment, she felt dizzy, unable to distinguish sky from earth or east from west.

In this disorientation, she suddenly wondered: Had Changying entered the mirror with her?

It is said that passing through the Turbid Mirror allows one to revisit the past. So, would she return to Changying’s past, or her own?

Would the Turbid Mirror grant her wishes, or Changying’s?

She had intended to use her spiritual energy to propel herself forward, but found she couldn’t even lift an inch. Her cultivation seemed utterly useless here, leaving her to wander aimlessly.

Dizzy and disoriented, Zhuyou walked straight ahead, sometimes stepping over rocky terrain, other times nearly sinking into muddy marshes. After a few more steps, she found herself treading on the palace roads of the Mortal Realm.

At times, clouds and mist surrounded her; at others, she walked under the glow of the moon. After a while, the moon hung directly above her head.

She couldn’t tell day from night, nor whether she was walking in the heavens or on earth. Everything around her seemed like primordial chaos.

After a while, the houses disappeared, and she saw a barren land. When she looked up, she saw an endless sea.

Beneath her feet was an expanse of sand dunes, yet above her head stretched a vast ocean. Listening closely, she could hear the distant neighing of heavenly horses.

Zhuyou followed the sound and suddenly caught sight of blinding divine light shooting out like arrows in all directions. The arrows were short, and upon closer inspection, she realized they were feathers wrapped in flames.

Her heart raced as she stared at the net of fiery feathers descending upon her. Her breathing grew rapid.

Yet her mind was blank, unsure why she felt such unease.

The feathers rained down on a devil army, each soldier adorned with devil horns and covered in devilish markings… It was the ancient Devil Clan.

Zhuyou’s mouth fell open slightly, her chest numb from the pounding of her heart. Her ears rang, and her vision blurred. She thought to herself, could this be the time of the great war between gods and devils?

But why could she see it?

Just as she tried to focus, the world spun again. The feathers and devil soldiers seemed to swirl into a chaotic mass, and when it cleared, the scene before her had changed.

The sand dunes were gone, and the sea above had vanished. The fiery feathers and devil soldiers were nowhere to be seen.

She felt a sudden sense of loss, as if what she had just seen was what she was meant to witness.

But what was before her now?

To her surprise, she found herself back at Mount Danxue, the place of her birth.

***

Outside the Turbid Mirror, the overwhelming pressure that had accompanied Changying’s entry into the mirror suddenly disappeared. The wind, which had been suspended mid-air, began to blow again, carrying scattered leaves far into the distance.

On the wooden stairs of the inn, a waiter who had been frozen mid-step finally placed his foot down, unaware of what had just happened, and hurried downstairs.

Outside the room, Hanzhu breathed a sigh of relief, as if she had narrowly escaped death. She touched her face, finding it cold, and then remembered the dragon had entered the room. Her heart leapt into her throat.

If it had been a hundred years ago, she might have believed the dragon wouldn’t harm her mistress. But now, after their reunion, the dragon’s cultivation was unfathomably deep. With just a glance, the entire area had fallen into stillness.

Though the pressure had lifted, her legs were still weak. She had no idea how her mistress was faring.

Gritting her teeth, she rushed to push open the door, expecting to be struck by the restrictions and left half-dead. But to her surprise, when she placed her hand on the door, she felt no pain.

The restrictions were still in place—otherwise, she wouldn’t have been unable to open the door.

But these restrictions were different from before. If they had been set by her mistress, she would have been bloodied and battered by now. Yet this time… she simply couldn’t push the door open.

She guessed these restrictions had been set by Changying. The dragon, who seemed as cold and unfeeling as ice, with a demeanor that suggested she would kill any devil in her path, had surprisingly spared her.

Hanzhu pushed the door a few more times, but it remained firmly shut. She wondered, if Changying knew that it had been her own decision a hundred years ago not to bring her along, would the dragon still have shown such mercy? Would she still have spared her?

***

Inside the room, where the door remained closed, two bodies lay motionless. The souls of both the god and the devil had left their bodies, entering the Turbid Mirror together.

Within the Turbid Mirror, Zhuyou didn’t understand why she was seeing Mount Danxue. Could it be that Changying wanted to see it?

But as she looked around, she saw no sign of Changying. She had no idea where the dragon was hiding.

She only felt that something was off about Mount Danxue, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. The more she couldn’t understand, the more she wanted to figure it out.

After stepping into this realm, the chaotic world behind her began to change, as if she had truly returned to Mount Danxue.

Mount Danxue was bathed in colorful light, the entire mountain glowing red, as if illuminated by some joyous occasion.

Zhuyou couldn’t recall any such celebration on Mount Danxue. Perhaps there had been one, but by then, she had already fallen into devilhood.

The closer she got to the mountain, the heavier her head felt, her consciousness foggy, as if shrouded in mist.

As soon as she entered the mountain, she was surrounded by a group of magpie immortals, chattering about a dragon-phoenix wedding and how she needed to be properly dressed and made up.

Dazed, she thought to herself, What dragon-phoenix wedding? Back then, she had been betrothed to the Dragon Clan, but after failing her tribulation, losing her cultivation, and being blinded, the Dragon Clan had looked down on her and called off the engagement. Later, the marriage had still taken place, but the bride had been Jingyi, who had regained her three hun souls and seven po souls.

If Jingyi was the one getting married, why were these immortals bothering her?

Zhuyou’s head spun, and she couldn’t break free from their grasp. When she saw the wedding robes, she suddenly forgot some things.

Her mind was empty, unable to distinguish illusion from reality.

No, she had to leave.

But before she could turn around, her consciousness seemed to be completely drained.

She stood there in a daze, being dressed in a bright red wedding gown and pushed in front of a bronze mirror. The reflection showed her with jet-black hair and snow-white skin, stunningly beautiful.

Suddenly, she came to her senses, as if remembering who she was—the Vermillion Phoenix of the Nine Heavens.

She had to leave. She turned and ran down the mountain, driven by some inner urge, though she didn’t know why she was running or where she was going.

After leaving Mount Danxue, Zhuyou hurried into the Mortal Realm, tossing aside the red veil as she went.

Not far away, a loud crash echoed, and dust filled the air, as if something had fallen from the sky.

Zhuyou paused, then decided to take a closer look.

What she saw was an egg.

She felt a strange familiarity with the egg, but couldn’t recall why.

In her daze, a voice seemed to ask, If no one had slandered you two hundred years ago, what kind of life would you have wished for?

Zhuyou froze. Who was trying to bewitch her? Who was it?