Chapter Sixty-Three: Reunion

Three years ago, Yu Lang had encountered “Ning Xue” once in Yangzhou. At that time, he had lost his composure, recklessly rushing forward to recognize her, only to make a fool of himself. It was later proven that the young woman’s name was actually “Ning Xiaoxue.” She hailed from the Qingyuan Ning family, who were related to the Zhang family through Zhang Xun. The Qingyuan Ning clan bore the ancestral surname of the Celestial Master Sect, a prestigious sect rivaling the Sword Pavilion of Western Shu. As such, the Ning family held a position of great eminence locally—so much so that even a top scholar like Zhang Xun was beneath their notice.

The young woman holding a slender sword was even younger than Ning Xiaoxue, but looked almost identical, and Yu Lang’s heart pounded uncontrollably. He was all too familiar with this feeling. Unlike when he’d first met “Ning Xiaoxue” three years ago, this time he was sure—the girl before him was the lover from his past life, the one he had yearned for day and night.

It had nothing to do with appearance; this certainty came from a mysterious, unexplainable intuition.

The leader of the sand bandits glanced at the young woman, sighing softly.

She relaxed her guard and was about to scold the bandit, when she realized that the slender sword she so cherished had been effortlessly snapped between his fingers.

The bandit chief sneered coldly and, with a swift, lethal hand strike, was about to take her life.

At that moment, Yu Lang, weak and barely able to move, finally crawled over through the yellow sand and shouted, “Stop!” But the leader merely kicked him aside with a casual motion.

Summoning the last trace of strength in his body, Yu Lang used his remaining internal energy as a catalyst to draw upon the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, unleashing a burst of sword aura. He had intended to save this final bit of power for a desperate fight with Kutoza.

Seeing Yu Lang’s strange action, Kutoza, unwilling to risk his own life, immediately fled in another direction. Only after leaving this little terror behind did he feel he had truly escaped with his life.

Though this sword aura was meager, it was infused with Yu Lang’s understanding of swordsmanship, and its power was not to be underestimated.

Relying on the treasured robe bestowed upon him by the king of Little Bolu, the bandit leader boldly took the strike head-on. The king of Little Bolu was a cultivator of the upper three realms, whose practice of the Five Mysteries Technique allowed him to forge potent artifacts. The bandit leader trusted him implicitly, for the king himself had declared that no sword or blade from the lower three realms could pierce this robe.

What’s more, this sword aura looked so weak and sluggish, likely coming from a beginner cultivator.

But the bandit leader had no chance to regret his decision. The moment the sword aura struck him, his core exploded violently, and his life was extinguished in an instant.

The other bandits, as if seeing a ghost, scattered in all directions.

The remaining wounded martial artists looked at Yu Lang with deep respect.

Yet Yu Lang himself felt terrible. Having squeezed out every last drop of strength, he felt as if his organs were displaced from the immense pressure, and his limbs were racked with sharp pain.

The girl’s delicate face leaned in close. “My name is Ning Xiaoyu. I owe you my life. If you have any last words before you die, tell me now and I’ll make them come true for you.”

Yu Lang suddenly burst into laughter, rolling on the ground until he cried. In his previous life, whenever he went shopping with his girlfriend, he would always complain about being exhausted, and she would say those exact words while putting on a pitiful face to entice him.

This time, there could be no mistake.

Ning Xiaoyu’s eyes curved into a smile. “Of course it’s me. How do you like Great Tang?”

She spoke in the common tongue of their past world—no one but Yu Lang could understand it.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds, then embraced tightly, leaving the entire caravan in stunned disbelief.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Yu Lang awoke from the jostling of the carriage, pulling off the lake-blue blanket that covered him.

Inside, an old man sat with his eyes closed, resting. He looked ancient, his body as fragile as if it were pieced together from a handful of yellow earth, ready to fall apart at any moment.

Yu Lang greeted him softly.

The old man’s eyelids twitched, and he gave a weak grunt of acknowledgment, but said nothing more.

Ning Xiaoyu lifted the curtain and stepped inside. “You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

Yu Lang flexed his wrists. His sea of energy still felt like an empty box, utterly devoid of inner force, though his muscles had mostly recovered. “My body’s fine. I just don’t know if my cultivation will ever return. That was all I managed to accumulate in three years of bitter practice.”

Ning Xiaoyu peeled a lychee and fed it to him. “In your battle with Kutoza, you refused to accept Li Bi’s Dao Seal, and the murderous energy of the battlefield stirred your heart’s demons. By treading the path of slaughter, you broke through to the Enlightened Profundity realm. Now that your cultivation is scattered, it’s actually a good thing…”

“Few who enter the Profundity realm through the way of slaughter turn out well. Even if you keep your mind clear for now, as long as you’re driven by killing intent, you’ll eventually lose yourself. Let your cultivation be scattered—start over. With your foundation and the pills I have, you’ll be back at the peak of the Void-breaking realm in a month at most…”

Yu Lang looked doubtful. “How do you know so much about me?”

Ning Xiaoyu grinned and produced a bronze mirror. On the back was engraved a majestic five-clawed golden dragon, while the front was adorned with swirling cloud patterns.

She tapped the mirror. “This is one of the Celestial Master Sect’s great treasures—the Skywatching Mirror. Over the years, though I couldn’t be by your side, I’ve seen everything you experienced through this mirror.”

All this time, Ning Xiaoyu had been confined in the Celestial Master Sect. Her only joy beyond cultivation was lying in bed each night, watching Yu Lang’s life unfold through the mirror—a pastime that reminded her of soap operas from another world and made her feel close to him. She had been sent on a mission to guide Yu Lang, and though she’d spent less than five years there, she missed the vibrant colors of that world dearly. If only she could taste ice cream again, or ride the Ferris wheel once more.

“So you’re from the Qingyuan Ning clan of the Celestial Master Sect too? Then what’s your relation to Ning Xiaoxue, who was with Zhang Xun?” Yu Lang finally felt he’d found a clear thread in the tangled web.

Ning Xiaoyu’s smile was radiant. “Ning Xiaoxue is my older sister. You were hilarious three years ago when you mistook her for me… But I can’t blame you. When I first came to guide you, I used the name Ning Xue, and we do look alike. It’s no wonder you mistook my sister for me.”

Yu Lang blushed slightly. “I really did mistake her for you. Since you knew I was in Great Tang, why didn’t you come to Yangzhou sooner and recognize me? Why leave me alone in this strange world?”

“Do you think I didn’t want to find you? But you needed to grow. At thirteen, if you knew too much, it would only put you in more danger. Only when you became strong enough would you be qualified to know certain things.” Ning Xiaoyu spoke with heartfelt sincerity.

Yu Lang had always wanted to ask the question that troubled him most, but hesitated, glancing at the half-awake old man nearby.

Noticing his apprehension, Ning Xiaoyu explained, “This is a great-grandfather from my sect, one I’m closest to. He doesn’t understand our language, nor does he care for worldly matters. Say whatever you wish—there’s no need to worry.”

Yu Lang took a deep breath. “Why did you use that book to bring me to Great Tang?”