Two Thousand Years, and He Still Hasn't Given Up?

Bai Qingwu stood at the entrance of the secret chamber, hesitating for a long time.

The "junk" piled high inside the chamber was mostly things Meng Ciyuan had given her two thousand years ago.

Back then, he was still a young man, dressed in a moon-white brocade robe, following behind her, calling her "Miss Bai" over and over, his eyes shining like stars. He would clumsily pick the whitest pear blossoms for her, secretly hide her favorite tea leaves in his sleeve, and quietly slow his pace when she yawned.

She found it amusing at the time, so she occasionally responded to him with a word or two.

Little did she expect that this back-and-forth would last two thousand years.

"Creeeak—"

The stone door of the chamber slowly slid open, and a long-sealed, dusty aura rushed toward her.

It was very dark inside, with only a few rays of moonlight filtering through the stone crevices, illuminating the objects piled up in the corners. Bai Qingwu raised her hand and waved. A faint blue streak of Demonic Power swept past, and the candles on the candlesticks lit up at her command, their dancing flames illuminating the entire chamber.

She walked in, her gaze sweeping over the dust-covered items.

The most conspicuous was a rosewood box in the corner, carved with intricate patterns. She remembered that Meng Ciyuan had given it to her on her "birthday"—in truth, she had no real birthday; she had just casually picked a date, yet he remembered it for two thousand years.

Inside the box were the letters he had written.

One after another, from the childish handwriting of his youth to the steady, forceful strokes of his later years—over a thousand letters in total. Every letter began with "To Miss Bai, for her personal reading" and ended with "Awaiting your reply."

She had never replied to a single one.

Bai Qingwu crouched down and casually picked up the topmost letter. The envelope had yellowed, its edges slightly frayed. She opened it, revealing a yellowed sheet of paper with clear handwriting:

"Miss Bai, the pear blossoms bloomed on the back mountain today. I picked the whitest one and placed it on your windowsill. You once said you loved the purity of pear blossoms. I hope it pleases you."

"Also, my father taught me sword practice today, and I improved greatly. May I perform it for you next time?"

"Awaiting your reply."

Meng Ciyuan

Bai Qingwu's fingers traced the handwriting, feeling a bit dazed.

She remembered that day—she had indeed seen a pear blossom on the windowsill and casually stuck it into a vase. As for his sword practice... she thought she might have glanced at it, then yawned and turned around to go back to sleep.

She set this letter down and picked up another.

"Miss Bai, Xuanjizi from the Qingxuan Sect came again, babbling about 'evil spirits causing trouble.' How ridiculous. Don't be afraid—I will protect you."

"I've convinced my father to let you stay in the Meng estate. From now on, this is your home. No one will bully you."

"Awaiting your reply."

Meng Ciyuan

Bai Qingwu's movements paused.

Xuanjizi... She remembered that man. Two thousand years ago, he was the one who led the charge in falsely accusing her of "colluding with the demon race," rallying the various sects to besiege and kill her. At the time, Meng Ciyuan... had been on her side, hadn't he?

She couldn't quite recall.

Two thousand years was too long. Many things had blurred.

She continued flipping through the letters, one after another, all filled with Meng Ciyuan's trivial daily matters—his cultivation progress, interesting things he had encountered, his longing for her.

Until she reached the last letter.

This letter was very new, the ink still carrying a faint fragrance. It was clearly the most recent one he had written.

"Miss Bai, I know you're reading this."

"Two thousand years ago, on the day you 'died,' I was right below the Altar. I saw the moment you 'exploded'—there was a wisp of a Remnant Soul that escaped. I knew you weren't dead. You just didn't want to see me."

"It's alright. I can wait."

"I built three thousand Cenotaphs, each imbued with your presence. I will wait in front of each one until you appear."

"If... if you truly don't want to see me, that's fine too. I will come find you."

"Awaiting your reply."

Meng Ciyuan

Bai Qingwu's fingers clenched abruptly, crumpling the letter into a ball.

He knew!

He actually knew she wasn't dead!

Two thousand years ago, when she "exploded" on the Altar, she had deliberately left behind a trace of a Remnant Soul's presence to make them all believe she was truly dead. She thought she had covered her tracks flawlessly—but he...

He had known all along.

Bai Qingwu stood up and walked to a corner deep inside the chamber. There sat an unremarkable jade box. She opened it, revealing a Jade Pendant lying inside.

The pendant was pure white, carved with a lifelike Nine-Tailed Fox.

This was the first gift Meng Ciyuan had ever given her, two thousand years ago, obtained at great risk from a Mystic Realm. He had said that the Nine-Tailed Fox on the pendant looked just like her.

She had thought the kid had good taste at the time, so she accepted it and casually tossed it in here.

Little did she expect that he would actually...

For the first time, an indescribable emotion stirred in Bai Qingwu's heart.

She had always believed that Meng Ciyuan's obsession with her was nothing more than a young man's fleeting impulse, something that would fade with time. She had thought that two thousand years would be enough for any mortal to forget everything.

But now it seemed...

"Tch." She clicked her tongue softly, tossing the Jade Pendant back into the box. "What a madman."

Just then, a faint warmth suddenly spread from her fingertips.

She froze and looked down, only to see the Jade Pendant glowing faintly. An extremely faint soul fluctuation emanated from within, as if it were... calling out to her?

Bai Qingwu frowned, concentrating her senses.

The soul fluctuation was very weak, intermittent, like a candle flickering in the wind. But she could clearly feel that it was Meng Ciyuan's Remnant Soul.

Had he actually bound a wisp of his Remnant Soul to this Jade Pendant?

No...

Bai Qingwu suddenly recalled the scene in the water mirror—right before he jumped off the cliff, he had been holding a strand of jet-black hair. Her hair.

That was it.

He had used her hair as a medium to bind his Remnant Soul to it. In this way, as long as she was alive, as long as she still existed in this world, he would be able to sense her—and even... be awakened by her.

This madman!

Bai Qingwu felt both irritated and amused.

She had lived for thousands of years and had seen all kinds of humans, but never one like Meng Ciyuan. Terrifyingly persistent. Terrifyingly insane.

"Two thousand years," she murmured, as if talking to herself. "He still hasn't given up?"

The chamber was utterly silent, save for the crackling of the candle flames.

Bai Qingwu stood still, silent for a long time.

She could choose to ignore it.

She could continue sunbathing here, taking naps, until Meng Ciyuan's Remnant Soul completely dissipated, until this matter was entirely forgotten.

But...

She looked down at the Jade Pendant in her hand. The faint soul fluctuation continued unabated, like a signal that would never give up.

"What a hassle."

She muttered quietly, put away the pendant, and walked out of the chamber.

Ali was crouching by the door. Seeing her emerge, it immediately rubbed up against her.

Bai Qingwu patted its head, her gaze deep and thoughtful.

It seemed this nap was not meant to be.

She would have to go down the mountain.

At the very least... she needed to figure out what exactly this madman was trying to do.