Wanxi Rebirth - Chapter 101

The flames of the forging fire were personally stoked by Yue Tingxi as she began to refine the meteorite from beyond the heavens.

It was a long and meticulous process. She patiently melted the meteorite bit by bit, infused it with strands of spiritual energy, and even allowed herself the occasional thought about the future.

Now that the most pressing and important matters had been dealt with, she wondered how the future might unfold, and whether the current peace could truly extend to the time period when they would live thousands of years later.

“If everything goes smoothly, perhaps we won’t even need to wait thousands of years,” Qin Suoliu suddenly said.

“In the original world,” she continued, “during the ancient era, catastrophic calamities caused by demons led to massive casualties. The techniques, martial arts, and sacred texts of both races were destroyed. To suppress the demons, an entirely new realm had to be opened, consuming enormous amounts of the world’s spiritual energy and costing countless powerful beings their lives.”

“So,” Yue Tingxi understood, “the demonic disasters back then caused the world to… ‘regress’? But now that we’ve prevented the demons from appearing at the source, the world doesn’t need to go through such catastrophes and rebuilding, and it can progress more quickly into the era we live in?”

“Exactly. But… demonic disasters are inevitable. Powerful demons like Tushan Jinglan may not remain idle forever.” Qin Suoliu explained.

Tushan Jinglan had been released by Yue Tingxi ten years ago and now served as Qin Suoliu’s mount, occasionally returning to her homeland to check on her clan.

Initially, the fox had still wanted to cause trouble in human cities, but without Yue Tingxi’s intervention, Qin Suoliu alone subdued her.

The fox reluctantly followed them in establishing their sect, occasionally going down the mountain with them to “punish the wicked,” gradually learning effective methods to deal with evildoers. Information about coexistence between the two races was also provided, and her obsession diminished considerably.

Yet some questions remained: “Why can’t we simply designate territories for humans and demons? Each race stays in its own domain, without interfering with the other.”

“If we did that, whenever a great disaster struck, whichever side wasn’t affected would likely stand by and do nothing,” Yue Tingxi explained. “Besides, there are always demons and humans who prefer to live together, and always some who would rather kill each other if they could. Strictly dividing the two races would only lead to more innocent lives being caught in the crossfire.”

Tushan Jinglan opened her mouth but ultimately swallowed the thought of “why can’t we just exterminate humans.”

Indeed, humans, due to their short lifespan, often develop urgent and highly efficient techniques, devices, and martial arts. Their stories and illustrated tales are more engaging than those of demons.

Moreover, human bodies are well-suited to cultivation. Interacting and sparring with human cultivators provides tangible benefits.

The fox gradually compromised on the humans’ existence, though it didn’t entirely abandon her secret schemes.

—”Does that mean our birth is still thousands of years later?”

Yue Tingxi’s question brought Qin Suoliu back to the present.

“…Yes, it coincides with the next predicted disaster, with a deviation of no more than thirty years,” she said.

This made Yue Tingxi frown.

That meant everything would return to its original point. In the memories of another self, the world consciousness had always maintained peace, yet disaster still occurred.

“Is there really no nearer time for the next disaster?” she asked. “If not, which race will it start from?”

“Currently, it cannot be predicted,” Qin Suoliu said. “Over the past thousand years, the dark tendencies of both races have been like undercurrents, never fully surfacing, but each has been accumulating power. Likewise, grievances have been slowly building, and when the time comes, they will erupt.”

Yue Tingxi fell into deep thought.

“Focus on forging the weapon first, I’ll do the calculations,” Qin Suoliu said. “By the way, the Star-Picking Pavilion has reappeared in this world. When you have time, shall we pay them a visit?”

Yue Tingxi, still distracted, gave a noncommittal response while continuing to contemplate the situation.

Soon she asked again, “Suoliu, do you think it’s better to go directly to a thousand years later and assist that era’s selves, or remain in the past to try to nip the conflict in the bud?”

“In terms of energy consumption, I recommend directly traveling through time,” Qin Suoliu carefully analyzed. “Remaining in the past allows you to cover more ground, but if both races are hiding, how would you know who strikes first? Rely solely on the corruption of their souls? If you exhaust your divine power before resolving the conflict, the result will be disastrous. I do not recommend staying.”

Yue Tingxi found this reasonable but was still torn. She decided to focus on forging for now.

Forging is like alchemy; besides the main ingredient—the celestial meteorite—many auxiliary materials are needed.

She had already analyzed the structure of the “Salvation Scale” before time reversal and knew exactly what supplements were required.

Most of them could be found in storage bags provided by Qingyu Shanren and Lan Fengqing, with the rest purchased by Qin Suoliu in the city below the mountain.

Luminous Stones, Moonrise Mushrooms, Indigo Jade…

Including the celestial meteorite, there were a total of eighty-one materials.

…Another eighty-one.

By sheer coincidence, Yue Tingxi spent eighty-one days reforging the golden Salvation Scale, and before it gained self-awareness, she began implanting Xie Zhi’s memories.

She soon realized they couldn’t all fit. Xie Zhi had lived for so long that even a divine creation like the Scale could only hold a fraction.

Yue Tingxi withdrew some divine power and began selecting the memories Xie Zhi truly needed to retain.

It was time-consuming but worthwhile. Since everything had restarted, the Salvation Scale, Xie Zhi, should be capable of “salvation.” The morally dubious episodes could remain only as remembered by them.

She swiftly scanned and filtered Xie Zhi’s memories, keeping only useful information and advantageous thought processes.

Everything went smoothly, and trivial information could be skipped.

But at the very end, she suddenly paused.

It was the final conversation between Xie Zhi and Qingyu Shanren.

“The greatest matters are settled. What else do you have to say?” Qingyu Shanren asked impatiently.

“I have something, but I think you won’t want to hear it,” Xie Zhi said.

“Then never say it. Keep it rotten inside you until hell,” Qingyu Shanren replied coldly.

Xie Zhi stepped closer, gazing into her eyes.

“You are truly clean and pure,” she whispered with a sigh. “If I could start over, I would no longer serve as the sword of the world consciousness. I’d be your sword instead, would that be alright?”

From Xie Zhi’s perspective, Qingyu Shanren seemed to think her ears were broken.

As expected, she received a solid barrage of punches.

“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?!” Qingyu Shanren released her clenched fists. “Do you want me to explain how you and the world consciousness fooled us?!”

“I apologized, admitted my mistakes. Must I be forgiven? And yet you shamelessly confess your ‘true heart’… It’s revolting!”

“So I say, only in the next life.” Xie Zhi clutched her wound and stood up. “If all is forgotten, with no tasks from the world consciousness, what kind of artifact would I become…”

Before Qingyu Shanren could reply, Xie Zhi imagined: “If there really is such a chance, I’d just be a simple scale artifact, bound by blood to you. When you need me, summon me; when you don’t, I’d stay in your dantian or storage bag. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“I want to throw you away as garbage right now!” Qingyu Shanren’s palm pressed against her forehead, but then began transmitting spiritual energy.

“Since you care so much about me, I have one condition,” she said, staring into Xie Zhi’s golden eyes.

“Go on.”

“You must protect Yue Tingxi and Qin Suoliu, no matter where or when. Even if caught in temporal storms or spatial rifts, you must always risk your life to help them. If you can do this… I’ll give you the chance.”

Xie Zhi understood the reason. Since it was the final moment, she might as well let her feelings serve the people she cared for.

“Alright, I promise. I will do it, I’ll handle it properly. If there’s truly a chance, I want to—”

Before she could finish, Qingyu Shanren turned and left.

After reviewing this memory, Yue Tingxi considered what to retain—some, all, or none.

Frankly, it was like a scene of an enemy confessing and being rejected: as the saying goes, “Whether you deserve it is no longer up to you.”

But Yue Tingxi also thought of herself and Qin Suoliu.

Even if it wasn’t a romantic bond, a connection like that could influence choices in critical moments…

It was an attachment that brought one closer to the mundane world.

After much deliberation, she decided to retain only a hint of Xie Zhi’s fondness for Qingyu Shanren.

The next late summer, a bronze-haired girl with golden eyes, draped in warm orange gauze, emerged from the underground forging fire, squinting and shielding her eyes from the midday sun.

Xie Zhi hadn’t expected to be forged so soon.

After learning from Yue Tingxi about the origin of her main material, she fell silent for a while.

For some reason, she wanted to meet the present Qingwu, hoping to become her blood-bound artifact.

But she didn’t forget that the couple’s Kongming Villa needed help, and Qingwu wanted her to safeguard them and handle daily concerns.

Thus, Xie Zhi’s figure now moved throughout the villa.

She mastered the power of laws, and could only teach swordsmanship, strategy, and help with daily alchemy.

“The children you’ve chosen are all promising!” Xie Zhi exclaimed after a few days. “This sect will surely flourish…”

“Then stay in this era and take care of the disciples for us, alright?” Yue Tingxi, speaking as an old acquaintance, didn’t bother with formalities.

“Of course. But you’re leaving already?” Xie Zhi asked.

Yue Tingxi told her about the potential disaster a thousand years later, and that when they had crossed forward a century, the time coordinates had slightly shifted.

“…That’s unavoidable,” Xie Zhi sighed. “You’ve already done your best; there’s no need to be harsh on yourselves.”

“Though people usually act for their own benefit, if the risk is too high, they’ll give up. Currently, the world is willing to heed destiny. Otherwise, contact the Star-Picking Pavilion in the name of world consciousness and have them issue warnings. That should buy some time.”

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