That name "Jiang Che" rang out like a thunderclap, instantly pinning Ji Yunshu to the spot. Her blood seemed to freeze.
But mere moments later, a surge of reason and an even deeper despair doused the flame of that impossible fantasy.
'How could it be...' she thought bitterly to herself. 'It must be someone with the same name. My Jiang Che died so many years ago. I... I personally pushed him into the abyss.'
She clenched her fists tightly inside her sleeves, her nails nearly piercing her palms, forcing herself to suppress that absurd heartbeat.
She did not even dare to glance at the arena, terrified that seeing a stranger's face would forever tarnish the gentle, smiling face in her memory.
"Let's go, Junior Sister Ji. The matches here aren't worth watching," the male cultivator beside her urged impatiently, his tone still carrying disdain for lower-realm cultivators.
Ji Yunshu lowered her head, hiding all emotion in her eyes. Her voice was hoarse as she replied, "Mm."
She moved like a puppet, following her three companions as they pushed through the noisy crowd toward other arena areas. The cheers, discussions, and sounds of spiritual collisions all seemed to pass through a thick layer of glass, muffled and unreal.
Yet, halfway there, the words of the one who had sent her to the lower realm echoed again in her dead heart like a ghost.
"Go."
"Perhaps in the chaotic lands of the lower realm, you might break free from the shackles of your heart demon and find... what you have always been searching for."
What she had always been searching for.
What was it?
Redemption? A chance to atone? Or a miracle that was simply impossible?
Her steps grew slower, then stopped completely.
"Junior Sister Ji?" her companion asked, turning back in confusion.
Ji Yunshu suddenly looked up, her face pale as parchment, yet her eyes held a desperate, almost frantic struggle. She hastily made an excuse, her voice trembling. "I... I just had a moment of insight. I want to watch a match alone. You seniors go ahead."
The three exchanged glances, finding it strange but unwilling to bother with her, so they nodded perfunctorily and left on their own.
Almost the instant their figures disappeared, Ji Yunshu spun around, as if pulled by an invisible thread. Ignoring the crowd, she rushed back toward the arena they had just left.
Her heart pounded like a drum, threatening to burst from her chest. An absurd mix of hope and fear, one she could not even understand herself, intertwined and nearly suffocated her.
When she finally stumbled back to the arena and her gaze pierced through the sea of heads to land on the shimmering stage.
Time itself seemed to stand still.
On the arena, a young man stood with his hands behind his back.
He wore the moon-white, azure-trimmed disciple robes unique to the Xian Ling Holy Land. His figure was tall and straight as a pine, his dark hair bound by a simple jade hairpin, a few strands dancing in the wind. His face was handsome, with sharply defined features, his brow carrying an open, righteous air, and his lips held a faint, confident smile.
This was not the slightly awkward, youthful face she remembered. Time and experience had added steadiness and gravitas to him, but the contours of his brows and eyes, that unique, reassuringly gentle aura he radiated.
It was him.
It was really him!
Jiang Che!
Ji Yunshu felt her vision darken. Her mind went blank, and all sound in the world seemed to instantly fade away. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Tears poured uncontrollably from her eyes, blurring her sight.
He was not dead.
He was actually not dead!
And not only was he alive, he was thriving as a disciple of the Xian Ling Holy Land, just as dazzling and confident as ever!
Meanwhile, in the best viewing area closer to the arena.
"It's Jiang Che! Jiang Che is fighting!" Xi Yan excitedly grabbed Chen Xingcai's arm, jumping and shouting, her little face flushed red with excitement, more nervous than if she herself were fighting.
Chen Xingcai was dizzy from being shaken. She impatiently swatted Xi Yan's hand away, scoffing inwardly: 'Hmph, still insisting she has nothing to do with Senior Brother? Look how excited she is seeing him fight! Who is she fooling!'
But even as she thought this, she was swept up in the atmosphere. Joining the other fervent Xian Ling Holy Land disciples, she shouted for Jiang Che on the stage: "Go, Senior Brother!"
On the stage, Jiang Che's opponent was a mid-stage Longevity Realm elder from the Luofu Holy Land. His methods were ruthless; he immediately unleashed his sect's treasured weapon, a set of eighty-one linked flying swords, the Mother-Child Linked Flying Swords. The sword light cascaded like a waterfall, instantly enveloping the entire arena, drawing gasps from the audience below.
Yet facing this fierce assault, Jiang Che remained calm. He did not even use a weapon. Simply pointing two fingers like a sword, spiritual energy surged around him. A magnificent, righteous sword gang condensed from nothing in the air. It looked like a simple slash!
"Break!"
A clear shout rang out.
The brilliant sword qi effortlessly tore through the sky full of swords, precisely striking the core mother sword at its heart!
"Clang!"
The mother sword wailed, its spiritual light instantly dimming as it flew backward. The remaining eighty child swords, like a body without a heart, fell into chaos and dropped one by one.
The Luofu Holy Land elder's face turned deathly pale. His qi and blood churned, but before he could react, Jiang Che's ghost-like figure appeared before him. A finger lightly tapped his protective spiritual light.
"Pfft," a soft sound. The light shattered. The elder groaned, stumbling backward, having no strength to continue.
The fight was over!
From start to finish, it had taken only a few breaths!
The audience fell silent for a moment, then erupted in cheers and even louder amazement than before! This was the power of the Xian Ling Holy Land's core elite! So mighty it made one's heart tremble!
Jiang Che retracted his finger and gave a slight nod to the Luofu Holy Land elder, a gesture of respect.
Then, his gaze unconsciously drifted toward the area where the Xian Ling Holy Land disciples were gathered. He accurately spotted Chen Xingcai cheering and the flushed Xi Yan. In their direction, he showed a gentle, somewhat helpless smile, amused by Xi Yan's exaggerated cheering.
Sunlight fell upon him, as if gilding him in gold. He was handsome and tall, radiating brilliance.
He did not notice at all that in a dim, inconspicuous corner of the noisy crowd, a woman in a simple white dress was staring at him, her face tear-streaked.
Her body trembled slightly, like an autumn leaf in the wind. The entire world seemed to shrink to nothing but that dazzling figure on the stage.
...
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