Zanxing (Retranslated)

Chapter 269 - Night Talk (2)

The night on Yue Mountain was even colder than on Gu Feng Mountain.

Although it was clearly spring, it felt as if winter had arrived. The wind on the mountain was strong, much harsher than the gentle spring breeze. The gale made the branches sway wildly, as if a storm was rushing in from the path.

This year’s rain seemed particularly abundant.

Zanxing stood at the back of the house. Skeleton Woman and the others had gone to bed, and she had come out for some fresh air.

The people of the Si You Kingdom were very environmentally conscious and tried to avoid building too many houses. They were keen on planting trees on the mountain, but the woods on Yue Mountain, whether due to soil and water conditions or other reasons, were less dense than those outside the mountain. The trees here were sparse and thin, with few leaves, giving the landscape a somewhat desolate appearance.

From this perspective, she could sense that the spiritual energy in the mountain was gathering towards the summit. Zanxing looked up at the crescent moon, and beneath it, the white tower stood silently.

The spiritual energy was converging towards the Five-Wheels Pagoda, perhaps explaining why the vegetation in the mountain was not as lush as outside.

However, the more desolate the mountain, the brighter the moonlight appeared. The silver moonlight streamed down like flowing water, illuminating every corner of the mountain with a pure and lonely glow.

As she watched, she slowly extended her hand. From her palm, she gradually formed a shadow about the size of a palm. This shadow resembled a small tree. Zanxing threw the shadow onto the ground, and in an instant, the shadow grew into a huge flowering tree. The flowers were like dancing phoenixes, their wings vibrant as flames.

Zanxing withdrew her hand and silently gazed at the Biyi Blossom tree before her.

During her two years of seclusion in the Demon Realm, her illusionary skills had become much more refined. Demonic power was naturally adept at transforming things. Though it couldn’t match the Mirage Woman’s ability to create entire cities, conjuring the Biyi Blossom tree was now a simple task for her.

A voice came from behind: “So it’s an illusion.”

Zanxing’s gaze shifted slightly as she saw Gu Baiyingg walking out from behind her.

In the moonlight, the vast and open mountain forest was bathed in a cold glow, with the boy’s snow-white robes catching the light. The bright pearls of his clothing took on a chilly hue, while his red headband remained as brilliantly red as ever. The contrast of red and white—flower and snow, vibrant and cold, bright and distant—stood out starkly.

He stood beside Zanxing, looking up at the tree covered in bright red flowers. Suddenly, his fingertips moved slightly, and a flower gently floated down, landing in his palm.

The boy turned the flower in his hand, speaking lazily: “To manifest this tree in an instant, with petals so real and fragrance so true.”

He glanced at Zanxing, offering a rather insincere compliment: “Your illusion is really quite impressive.”

Zanxing remained silent for a moment, her mind drifting back to a time long ago. She recalled when she was in Li’er Country, pestering Gu Baiyinggg to teach her illusion magic. Back then, she was full of fantasies about illusions, not yet having faced the cruel and unpredictable nature of the world. She had thought that with illusions, she could display all the beauty of the world before her and enjoy it to the fullest.

But she had forgotten that illusions were always just illusions.

After a long pause, Zanxing finally spoke: “Perhaps it’s because I had a good master.”

The wind blew past them, making the red flowers on the tree rustle.

The boy stood with his arms crossed, seemingly nonchalant as he spoke: “This is a Biyi Blossom tree. Did you come to my hall when you were at Gufeng Mountain?”

Hearing this, a trace of a smile appeared in Zanxing’s eyes.

Indeed, he was very clever, so he had come out at this late hour to test her.

“Do you know the origin of the Biyi Blossom tree?” Zanxing didn’t respond to his question but brought up another topic: “According to legend, many years ago, an emperor captured a minister’s wife. Later, the minister and his wife committed suicide together. In his rage, the emperor had them buried in two separate graves, making them gaze at each other from afar. Later, mythology recorded: ‘There is a large zimu tree growing at the ends of the two graves, its branches intertwining above, its roots joining below. There are mandarin birds, a male and a female, always dwelling on the tree, never leaving from dawn till dusk, intertwining their necks in mourning.’ This is the Biyi Blossom tree,” she lowered her gaze, “It is also known as the ‘tree of longing.’”

Gu Baiyingg was momentarily stunned. Her gaze was very clear, and it was hard to imagine that someone from the demon clan could have such pure eyes. What was even more intriguing was her expression. Although she said nothing and did not appear particularly familiar with him, Gu Baiyingg felt as though she was trying to convey something to him.

The boy’s jawline tightened slightly. He wasn’t sure if he was speaking to Zanxing or to himself: “Illusions are just sleight of hand, with no offensive power. They only deceive mortals of lower cultivation. That legend is also fake.”

“Is that so?” Zanxing turned her head to look at him with a smile. “If it’s fake, then why is there a fake flower on your Xiu Gu spear?”

On the silver Xiu Gu spear, a small Biyi Blossom was hanging from the spear’s handle. The flower was not yet withered and was vibrant in color, an illusion created with magic.

The silver, cold, and sharp spear and the red, soft, and beautiful flower seemed like two things that had nothing in common but were perfectly matched together.

Zanxing asked, “Do you like the Biyi Blossom?”

The boy frowned slightly, his tone somewhat indifferent: “Not really.”

“Oh, I see.” Zanxing sighed with apparent regret.

Gu Baiyingg took a step forward, his gaze fixed on her, his eyes sharp. His voice was clear, carrying a strange warning as he asked Zanxing: “Men Dong said you deliberately took the Qinchong seeds at Gufeng Mountain, deceived and ambushed me, and killed the disciples of Chihua Gate. Is that true?”

Zanxing looked at him thoughtfully: “Do you not believe it?”

The boy advanced step by step, and Zanxing saw the bright red plum blossoms embroidered on his snow-white robe, vivid enough to scorch the eyes. He cornered Zanxing beneath the tree, looking down at her from above. His handsome face was sharply defined in the shadow of the flowering tree: “I have lost a fragment of my soul.” He suddenly tilted his head slightly, his warm breath brushing against Zanxing’s neck, causing her to shiver slightly, small goosebumps forming. From a distance, the scene seemed like a romantic dream, with their soft whispers and affectionate exchange.

Yet his gaze held no tenderness and his voice was low and firm: “I sense a familiar aura from you.”

“My lost soul fragment is with you,” he stated with certainty.

Zanxing didn’t reply. In the Ten Thousand Killing Formation, Gu Baiying’s soul fragment had protected her from a fatal blow, allowing her to narrowly escape with her life. Later, when the Asura Umbrella absorbed souls, most of Gu Baiying’s soul fragment had dispersed into the world, but a small part had merged with her bloodline, becoming one with her.

The moonlight suddenly dimmed, and the world became as black as ink, with only the red giant tree swaying affectionately, blooming brilliantly in the mountains.

His eyes were clear, and his brows and eyes were as beautiful as a lovely dream, but his tone was aggressive. He asked, “Why is my soul fragment on you?”

Zanxing stared into his eyes, opened her mouth to speak, but was forced to retreat, her back pressed against the tree trunk, her hair disheveled by the tree behind her.

A small sound broke the silence.

Something fell from Zanxing’s hair, rolling down to Gu Baiying’s feet.

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