Memories of the Past

The fissure was vast and deep—so immense that its boundaries vanished into obscurity, so profound that Han Su felt as though she’d been falling for ages, the descent lasting so long she nearly lost her patience.

As she continued to plummet, countless thoughts raced through her mind.

In summary: impulsiveness is a devil, and she simply couldn’t control her legs.

Why had Xueling jumped down? What lay within? What should she do? There was no time left for such questions; all she knew for certain was that she must take precautions.

Sending the little patrol, Little Walnut, would have been the safest course, but if it angered the great demon below, the consequences could prove disastrous. Thus, she could only brace herself, preparing for anything that might arise. The elongated fall brought both advantages and drawbacks.

The advantage was that she had time to adjust her posture midair, making herself appear less clumsy—so as not to frighten what might be a friendly and handsome ice-fire demon. She had time to affix defensive talismans to her body and to summon her life-bound treasure to hand.

The disadvantage was that the interminable descent only intensified her anxiety and fear, casting dread upon the unknown darkness ahead. Tension strung her nerves ever tighter, making her susceptible to all manner of troubles. For instance, at this very moment, she felt as though someone else had jumped down above her. This must be the legendary hallucination—so stressed that she subconsciously hoped someone would come to her aid, and thus imagined it.

She shook her head, drew a deep breath to ease her taut nerves, when suddenly, she heard a playful voice, torn and scattered by the wind yet sounding close to her ear: “What’s wrong? Afraid? Who would have thought you’d be a heroine willing to risk yourself for a beast...”

She turned her head in astonishment—it was truly him! “You? Why did you come down? Are you here to tame the ice-fire demon, Immortal Lord?”

“I—just take care of yourself.” Rong Ling used a deft move to reach her side swiftly. He wrapped an arm around her waist and said, “Hold tight. We need to get down quickly. This is an interconnected array; lingering isn’t wise.”

“Ah, oh...”

Though she’d sparred and even treated Rong Ling’s wounds before, this was the first time she’d been embraced by any man other than her father. He merely circled her waist lightly with one arm, his chest barely brushing her back, yet it was enough to send a rosy flush across her cheeks.

She strove desperately to suppress the strange sensation on her face, only to find the more she tried, the redder she became. Especially as her attention focused on it, every spot of contact began to clamor for notice, the feeling more vivid and acute, her attempts at restraint only making it more apparent. In no time, her face was burning, heat radiating outward as though she might burst into tears from embarrassment.

She kept reminding herself—inwardly—that his age was surely tens of thousands of times hers; stop being so bashful. Who knew what might happen ahead—what nonsense was she thinking! Still, shyness lingered, the flush on her cheeks fading only slightly, leaving her as pink as peach blossoms in March.

Rong Ling’s thoughts were fixed on the depths below. If his guess was correct, it was them. But the contract between them had long been severed; since his mishap, he knew not where they had gone, nor how they had survived all these years. What would their reunion be like? Even he felt a twinge of concern.

Unconsciously, his gaze caught Han Su’s shy blush, and his heart stirred unexpectedly. For reasons unknown, he seemed to share her sentiment. The delicate frame beneath his arm was soft and fragrant; her back pressed tentatively against his chest. As they descended, the warmth from his arm and chest seeped into him, the fierce wind blowing her hair and scent to his nose, teasing him mischievously.

Her hair was black and thick, setting off the fair, smooth skin of her exposed neck. She bowed her head gently, her dainty ears peeking through the strands—her earlobes round and full, gleaming white even in darkness.

Her cheeks were crimson, her embarrassed expression somehow tugging at his heart. He tightened his arm a little, eager to see more of that look. In that moment, he felt something he hadn’t in years. What was this?

No time to dwell; their feet touched ground almost simultaneously.

“What is this place?”

Before them sprawled an elliptical clearing. The stone walls bore huge caverns, split to either side—one of ice, one of fire—each peacefully occupying half. The ice cave was to the left; even from outside, the frigid air was overwhelming. Massive ice crystals extended outward, filling the entrance but leaving a person-wide passage. A vast and majestic pressure emanated from within, suggesting the beast lurked inside.

The fire cave was to the right, mirroring the ice cave in form, constructed from glowing, red-hot stones, some of which bore flames of every color. A casual glance revealed over a dozen types of exotic fire. The aura within was similar to the ice cave, perhaps even a bit looser.

Han Su stared wide-eyed, wondering what manner of beast could inhabit such a place. Her gaze roamed, searching for Xueling, but found nothing. She attempted to communicate mentally, but was suddenly struck with a grievous blow, as if her connection to Xueling had been severed. Blood spurted from her mouth; if not for Rong Ling’s arm, she would have collapsed.

“Focus your mind; swallow this.” Rong Ling’s pleasant voice sounded by her ear, cool fingertips holding a snowy, fragrant pill to her lips. She obediently opened her mouth; the pill dissolved instantly, sending a cooling sensation through her chest and abdomen, quickly restoring her wounded spirit.

“Come out.” His voice carried a host of emotions—excitement, longing, restraint, anger, and an indescribable authority.

There was no response, but Han Su keenly sensed changes in both caverns’ aura.

After a while, a small ball of snow tumbled out of the fire cave.

“Xueling! Are you alright?” Han Su was about to rush forward and embrace it, only to feel her waist pulled tighter—Rong Ling still held her. She turned quickly, glancing at his hand and then his eyes, her face full of protest.

Rong Ling’s expression was unruffled, his hand unmoving. “You’re injured; don’t run about. Have you forgotten the lesson just now? Still so impulsive.” His tone was as if forbidding her from acting foolishly for her own good.

Xueling, seeing Han Su’s gesture, dropped its head and retreated two steps, but soon leapt into her arms. Han Su caught it, holding it tightly.

“Han Su, Han Su, I found Mother. Sorry about just now.”

As Xueling’s tender voice sounded, a graceful beauty emerged from the fire cave. Flaming hair and attire accentuated her allure and vibrancy.

Her steps were hurried, eyes filled with urgency. She paused upon seeing Rong Ling; when he swept away his disguise, she scoffed lightly, “Changed your appearance and think I wouldn’t recognize you?”

Her large eyes brimmed with tears; she rushed forward, kneeling at Rong Ling’s feet. “Immortal Lord! I knew you’d return! Child’s father, come out! It’s really the Immortal Lord!”

Hardly had she finished speaking when a snow-white man shot out of the ice cave. He was robust, his silver hair in a tousled mass, clad in white robes, launching from the cave like a cannonball and kneeling beside the beauty in red. He cried, head raised, “It’s really the Immortal Lord! You don’t know how long we’ve waited…”

Rong Ling looked at him and sighed softly, exchanging a glance with the red-clad beauty. She immediately twisted the white-robed man’s arm, “Don’t disgrace yourself before the Immortal Lord; speak properly.”

The white-robed man wiped his tears, about to speak, when he paused to listen and said, “Immortal Lord, more rogues are coming to snatch the treasure. Let me deal with them.” With that, he darted out, and soon sounds of battle echoed, then faded into silence.

Rong Ling looked at the still-kneeling beauty and said, “You rise as well, Hong Yu.”

“Yes.” Hong Yu stood, waved her hand, and placed several stools in the clearing. She respectfully invited Rong Ling to sit, then cast a quick glance at his hand still around Han Su’s waist, hesitating as she said, “Is this the one who saved the Immortal Lord…the medicine woman?”

Han Su sensed the message in her gaze; her previously calm face flushed again. She twisted her waist hard to escape Rong Ling’s arm, but he released her with no resistance and took a seat gracefully. Her exaggerated movement only made her appear a bit foolish.

She glared at Rong Ling, stomping to the side, her feet scuffing the ground in frustration.

After a moment, she suddenly remembered something and pointed at her nose. “Medicine woman?”

Hong Yu had always loved to laugh. Though calamity had robbed her of joy for years, seeing the Immortal Lord and their son brought her spirit back, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Seeing Han Su’s reaction, she finally broke into peals of laughter.

As her laughter rang like silver bells, the white-robed man returned in a flash. “Hong Yu, what are you laughing at?”

Hong Yu, unable to straighten from her mirth, glared at him. “Why shouldn’t I laugh? Such a cute girl. Forgive me for hurting you earlier.”

Rong Ling regarded the ever-laughing Hong Yu and the foolish-faced Bai Nan, and said, “Han Su, sit down as well. Hong Yu, Bai Nan, tell me everything that happened after my accident.”

At the Immortal Lord’s command, the two at once grew solemn, found seats, and began to recount the events of the past thirty thousand years.

They spoke in a jumble, supplementing each other. Han Su listened, bewildered, but with her not-too-dull mind managed to piece together the truth.

It turned out Hong Yu and Bai Nan had once been Rong Ling’s spirit beasts—one of fire, one of ice. When Rong Ling ascended, he released their contracts. Both achieved the ninth rank, on the verge of becoming immortal beasts, but their playful natures led them to fall for each other, less interested in ascension.

Though their attributes clashed, such obstacles were trivial for Immortal Lord Rong Ling. Having studied ice and fire all his life, helping them harmonize was no challenge.

They lived happily in the Spirit Sea realm, where many demon cultivators gathered. After Rong Ling became a terrestrial immortal, he and Xuan Ting were appointed as lords of several realms, overseeing their cultivators. Then disaster struck; by the time they learned of it, Rong Ling was gravely wounded, his soul in retreat. Xuan Ting sought them out, requested a spirit beast egg, altered some of their inheritance, and arranged a series of plans.

Angered by Rong Ling’s plight, but as the culprit had already met retribution, they decided to seek a reverse spirit grass. The rarity of dual ice-fire roots meant they couldn’t hope for random success; if found, the grass could help an ice spirit root gain fire, or vice versa.

They searched the seas for a thousand years, to no avail. Later, news came of the realm lords’ great war, which led to chaos among the sects and a complete reshaping of the realms. The jade token had long since been discarded by Xuan Ting, lost in the vast crowds. They had no idea what to do, so tried to find Xuan Ting, only to learn he had vanished, fate unknown. Helpless, they slept beneath the land of the Jingxiang realm, awaiting Rong Ling or Xuan Ting’s return.

Though the spiritual contract was gone, once Han Su and Rong Ling appeared in the Jingxiang realm, they awoke from their slumber. This led to the opening of the cave mansion, mistaken by cultivators as a sign of treasure and sparking a rush of adventurers.

Rong Ling listened, his brows still lightly furrowed. “So you don’t know what happened in the end, or where Xuan Ting and the others went?”

Author’s note: Ah, apologies for the lack of a fixed update schedule due to my ‘streaking’—it’s caused you much inconvenience. From now on, unless special circumstances arise, updates will be every other day at 6 p.m. Come check in then, friends! 166 Reading Network