Wu Rong once again entered the dream where dark red flames burned everywhere. He had just wanted to test the Big Ghost’s reaction to the Zhengyang Fire seed, but it turned out to be too stimulating. The coldness that came along as the Yin Qi rushed into his body made him feel like he was in an icy cave, but he wasn’t too worried. He was connected to the Big Ghost in both body and soul, so he knew he wouldn’t do anything to harm him.
Wu Rong actually wanted to see what the Big Ghost was going to do. But even he didn’t expect to be pulled back into this dream. Since the Zhengyang Fire seed was implanted, Wu Rong would almost always dream of this place when he went to sleep at night: the domain covered in dark mist, the endless dark red flames spreading like a carpet, the bones piled up like mountain ranges, and the black coffin standing on top of the mountain with the Big Ghost inside.
Now that Wu Rong knew the Big Ghost’s probable identity, he had a new interpretation of this dream. Could the body sealed by the golden talisman and red threads array in the black coffin be the corpse of Fu Qingnan? Was it because he was suppressed during his lifetime that his remnant soul appeared to be sealed after death? Who would desecrate the remains of Grandmaster Fu in such a way?
Wuuuuuu—
The roaring wind passed by like the growl of a wild beast, brushing past Wu Rong’s ears. It seemed to urge him to not linger here for too long. But this time, Wu Rong wasn’t in a hurry. Instead, he stood still and surveyed his surroundings. He knew that regardless of the direction he went, his final destination would be the bone mountain. In the past, he didn’t particularly care about what was on the mountain.
Now that Wu Rong knew that Fu Qingnan’s remains may be at the top of the bone mountain, he wasn’t in a hurry. Instead, he remained calm and observed his surroundings. They say dreams are illusions, non-existent. But Wu Rong had a vague feeling that the location shown in this dream might actually exist.
Where could it be?
The chilly wind, tinged with the smell of blood, swirled around Wu Rong, causing the dark red flames at his feet to rise and fall, flickering dimly. No matter how much they flickered, they couldn’t brighten up the surrounding environment. The dim flames could only light up a small area, with its periphery being swallowed up by the darkness in the distance.
Wu Rong didn’t know what these dark red flames were and as he stooped down to touch them, the flames slipped from his fingertips like water, with no warmth or substance, and even felt slightly cool. These flames gave Wu Rong an idea. He reached into his abdomen and brought out a golden-red fireball.
The Big Ghost had such a strong reaction to the Zhengyang Fire seed, and since this place might be where Fu Qingnan died, could the Zhengyang seed derived from Fu Qing illuminate this darkness?
Almost as soon as he took out the Zhengyang Fire seed, Wu Rong realized that he was right. The illusory Zhengyang Fire seed was only a small ball, but because Wu Rong himself had been implanted with the Zhengyang Fire seed for a long time, even the illusory Zhengyang fireball had a hint of the real flame’s power. As soon as the Zhengyang Fire seed appeared, the heavy darkness around him quickly receded like a tide, and the surroundings gradually brightened, but it wasn’t a bright light like with the Daytime Empress. Instead, it was more like the dimness of an old photo, exuding a sense of ancientness and solemnity, as if the whole world was covered by a filter. Although it brightened up, Wu Rong could still only see emptiness all around him, like an endless plain. The sound of rushing water rang out, and the warm flowing water surged around Wu Rong’s feet, almost reaching his ankles.
Wu Rong looked down and realized that it wasn’t water, but blood. He couldn’t find the source or destination of the flowing blood river, as it only rushed beside him. The dark red flames had all disappeared.
Could it be that this was the original appearance of the dark red flames? Were they actually blood?
Wu Rong held the Zhengyang Fire seed for a while longer, but there were no further changes in his surroundings. The Zhengyang Fire seed in his hand became increasingly dim, as if its power was running out, and it was about to dissipate. Wu Rong didn’t know what would happen when the illusory fire seed dissipated. He might wake up from the strange dream, or something else might happen.
He remained undeterred, waiting until the fire seed was about to dissipate, and finally, his efforts paid off.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
A sudden sensation of heat emanated from his pocket, so hot that it was unbearable. Wu Rong supported the fire seed with one hand and reached into his pocket with the other. When he touched the hot object, he was stunned, and when he took it out to look at it, he found it was Aunt Wu’s hairpin.
Ca atja wbwfca, atf Vkjiibkajli Deaafgois rabcf gfqgfrfcalcu atf fsfr bo atf rlinfg tjlgqlc kjr rqjgxilcu, jr lo atf akb geylfr kfgf jybea ab luclaf jcv yegc yglutais. Pa rffwfv ab tjnf j vlralcma xlcv bo jaagjmalbc, jcv Qe Ebcu mbeivc’a ajxf tlr fsfr boo la, offilcu ilxf atf olfgs gfv vbar kfgf ufaalcu tbaafg jcv yglutafg ilxf atfs kfgf ufaalcu mibrfg jcv mibrfg ab tlw.
Boom!
When the fiery red filled Wu Rong’s entire field of view, a deafening roar sounded within his mind, instantly taking away his consciousness. Wu Rong’s head throbbed with pain, his mind buzzing, and in a daze, he seemed to hear many people talking, young and old, male and female, speaking Chinese and foreign languages. In the end, all the scattered voices converged into one sentence, and among the many voices, a cold, calm, and clear male voice was the most distinct.
“With our sacrifice today, the future of humankind will be eternal.”
[Humankind lives forever!]
“Sister, your hairpin is really pretty.”
The melodious and ethereal voice awakened Wu Rong’s confused consciousness. It felt like he had been lost in the darkness for a long time, so long that even his consciousness was on the brink of fading away. This was a very dangerous situation, and Wu Rong vaguely sensed that if his consciousness truly shattered, he would never wake up again. But as his consciousness was about to dissipate, many forces were protecting him.
Cold Yin Qi came from the Big Ghost, the Zhong Gu, and the deep cold within his own soul. Warm Yang Qi came from the Zhengyang Fire seed, the hairpin and his Yin-Yang contract with Fu Qing. Now that he had escaped danger, his consciousness was slowly awakening, and through the Zhengyang Fire seed, he may now glimpse the true essence hidden beneath the darkness of the dream.
Wu Rong rarely took risks, but once he made a decision, he could be more ruthless than anyone else. Now, it remains to be seen whether his risk-taking was worth it.
“Sister, I wrote a song about the beautiful butterfly for you. Can I sing it to you?”
The sweet and charming voice of the girl, pure and innocent, awakened Wu Rong’s memories. He had heard Zhou Jin’s singing before, but it couldn’t compare to the girl’s voice at that moment.
Wu Rong slowly opened his eyes, his vision transitioning from blurry to clear. He saw a pair of azure eyes like the sea, a girl with skin as fair as snow, golden hair shining like autumn wheat, and lips like rose petals. She wore a pure white dress that spread out on the ground like pristine snow. And even purer than the snow was the smile on the girl’s face.
She tilted her head and curved her lips into a smile of pure joy as she looked at Wu Rong. “Sister, you’re finally awake.”
“It seems Vivian is still skillful.”
A clear and humorous young male voice came from the front, with a teasing tone full of goodwill. “Everyone will regret waking up Lady Wu Ruang, her adorable little Gus can send you straight to hell.”
Wu Rong remained silent, silently surveying his surroundings. The sky was still gray, with dirty snowflakes floating in the air. Surrounding him was an endless wasteland, cracked and desolate, with a few lifeless dead trees visible.
Yet they were miraculously sitting on a green grassland, and a dense tree that cast shade over them like a large umbrella blocked the falling ash. And Wu Rong was leaning against this towering tree, asleep.
Vivian.
This familiar name brought back a rush of Wu Rong’s memories. He looked at the innocent golden-haired girl sitting on the grass, caught off guard by the fragrance of flowers.
“A sagebrush and lavender flower crown, this is what that Manchurian taught me.”
Vivian happily handed the beautiful flower crown to Wu Rong, smiling with joy. “Sister won’t have insomnia anymore.”
Wu Ruang.
Wu Rong took the flower crown. Now, he had entered this… memory fragment as Wu Ruang because of her hairpin?
“Leo, if you keep staring at Wu Ruang in a daze, we’ll only have a pot of burnt soup tonight.”
A kind and gentle elderly female voice sounded, with a smile of indulgence towards the young man. Wu Rong looked at the young man bustling around the campfire pot, his gaze sweeping over his brown, slightly curled messy hair and emerald green eyes, watching his miserable expression as he tried to salvage the already heavily burnt soup.
Leo, another familiar name.
This memory is likely from just before the Nine Heroes set off for the Great Tiankeng.
Wu Rong, Vivian and Leo, currently there were three people. Wu Rong looked at the old woman who had just spoken but found that she was just a blurry shadow.
“Well, well, at least it’s drinkable, isn’t it? It’s warm.”
Leo muttered to himself as he ladled the soup into several bowls. “Everyone, dinner’s ready. Who wants a bowl of hot soup?”
“Give the Lama a bowl, his injuries haven’t healed yet.”
“Alright.”
Lama?
Wu Rong’s gaze followed Leo as he cheerfully carried two bowls of soup towards a nearby black shadow. As expected, he saw an old man sitting cross-legged, wrapped in a crimson robe, with dried bloodstains at the corners of his lips. Although Wu Rong had never truly seen him, his intuition told him that he was Sima Gyatso. The old man’s complexion was unusually gray, and there were traces of dried blood at the corners of his lips.
Suddenly, Wu Rong’s gaze sharpened. He noticed that Leo not only placed a bowl of soup in front of Sima Gyatso but also placed one beside the black mist that he originally thought wasn’t a person.
The black mist.
A flash of insight crossed Wu Rong’s mind, and he looked around again. Confirming that only the figures of four people were present, Vivian, Leo, Sima Gyatso, and himself. Were the other heroes separated, or…
Because he hadn’t obtained their relics, he couldn’t see their figures here, only clusters of black mist?
“Stupid Leo, he can even turn boiled soup into burnt soup.”
The clear and crisp voice of a child coming from the black mist confirmed Wu Rong’s thoughts. All nine heroes should be here, but he could only see the few people whose relics he had obtained.
Subconsciously, Wu Rong began to search.
Where is Fu Qingnan?
Editor: Cloud Chip Cake
thanks for the chapter!!! ❤️❤️❤️
Now that i think about it the more I look the more I think theory 2 is more possible.
Theory 1 was that World 1 Fu Qing fell in love with ghost king Wu Rong but died, he didn’t become a ghost bc idk but a spatial crack opened and souls from world 1 and 2 where suck into it and they went to world 3
Theory 2 is that before World 1 (Ghost King Wu Rong) and World 2 (Normal Wu Rong) there existed a world 0 where Fu Qing and Shan Rong lived during the time of sealing the Great Tienkeng and they were in love then they died and stuff happened… I’m actually proud I somehow formed theory 2 ❤❤❤