Chapter 23

#Can’t he read? Can’t he write?

The winter months in Kunlun are icy and snowy. I didn’t see Xie Zhuo here, so I figured—he must’ve exited the time stream before me. Maybe he landed at a different point in time.

What I need to do now is figure out exactly what time it is.

Xie Zhuo and I originally met on the twelfth of the second lunar month, in the dead of winter. If I’m right, this time he’s come back… intending to stop that meeting from ever happening. After all—

The last time he said he was going to kill me, I didn’t take it seriously. And sure enough, I almost drove myself to ruin. You think I didn’t learn my lesson?

Before he came back this time, he said, “If only I’d never met you.” So yeah, he must be here to prevent our encounter.

He wants to cut off all ties between us at the source.

But what I don’t get is—why didn’t he just rewind time to this point last time? He’d already made up his mind to kill me, but he still wanted to preserve the memory of our meeting?

Was that memory really that important to him?

I don’t understand him, and honestly, I don’t want to anymore.

I just want to clean up this mess he made, keep myself alive, and then return to five hundred years later to live my carefree, exalted life as an Immortal.

I set off to look for somewhere in Kunlun that might still have people moving about, even in this season. I need to ask someone what day it is. As long as I’m back before the twelfth of the second lunar month, I still have a chance to stop Xie Zhuo’s next move.

I rose into the air using a Wind Riding technique, snow nearly halfway up my calves, when something black caught in the wind spell caught my eye.

I picked it up and examined it—it was the Yin-Yang fish that was supposed to be dangling from Xie Zhuo’s ear!

So he really did arrive before me!

And to shake me off, he threw away our communication device!

He’s seriously determined to go against me!

Fuming, I reached up to my own ear, ready to rip this now-worthless thing off and toss it too—but…

The moment I touched my ear, I suddenly remembered something important.

Last time I came back five hundred years, Xiaxia accidentally wandered into Xie Zhuo’s Snow Bamboo Courtyard, and I’d seen her through a reflection in a mirror.

And later, I bumped into Xiaxia several times. She never saw me, and neither of us broke the “Kings Shall Not Meet” rule.

Which meant—as long as we didn’t lock eyes in the real world, we were both safe.

So… if I use this modified device of Xie Zhuo’s—could I contact Xiaxia directly!?

No time like the present.

I clutched the Yin-Yang fish, made a hand seal, and shot off toward my own immortal residence.

This second time emerging from split time, I wasn’t nearly as disoriented. Familiar with the way, I snuck into my residence. At the door, I spotted the date—

The eleventh of the second month.

Xie Zhuo and I are supposed to meet tomorrow.

I don’t know what he’s planning, so all I can do is be completely ready today and make sure that tomorrow, Xiaxia meets Xie Xuanqing.

To save him, protect him, heal him!

Only by laying this foundation will Xie Xuanqing later feed Xiaxia that mouthful of blood.

When I reached the outer courtyard of my residence, my heart was already pounding.

Looks like the me who traveled through time is still a bit weaker than the me from five hundred years ago.

I peeked over the courtyard wall and saw myself pacing inside by the window.

I tore off a strip of my robe, wrapped the black Yin-Yang fish in it, and wrote six characters on it with a spell: “Do Not Put on Your Ear.”

Knowing myself? No way I’d ignore that.

I took a breath and tossed the wrapped fish through the window.

Then I bolted—I was afraid Xiaxia would get curious and chase me out.

I ran all the way to the Snow Bamboo Forest and found a secluded spot to sit and wait for any sign of the earpiece activating.

Not long after, a breeze stirred—and suddenly a scene appeared in my mind.

In it, “I” was sitting at the dressing table, and the bronze mirror clearly reflected Xiaxia’s slightly curious face. She was tilting her head back and forth, examining the little black fish on her ear.

“What is this? Who gave it to me? So mysterious.”

I smiled…

God, I know myself so well.

I raised my hand and knocked on the earpiece.

Wind stirred my hair in the bamboo forest, and the scene before me was the quiet sea of bamboo and snow.

“It’s me…”

Xiaxia gasped and shot up from the dressing table.

She stared into the bronze mirror, and slowly her gaze turned distant. I knew—she was seeing my bamboo forest in her mind.

And I was seeing my past self.

It was as if me and myself had met in the strange ocean of time.

I told her, “I’m Fu Jiuxia from five hundred years in the future.”

Then—my mind went black.

Xiaxia must’ve turned off her connection. But since I hadn’t, she should still be seeing the view from my side.

I thought for a moment. To convince her, I dug a hole right there, melted the snow into water, and leaned down so the water reflected my face.

“Look. I really am you.”

Darkness passed, and the scene returned. Xiaxia was still sitting at the dressing table.

In my mind, I saw her in the mirror. In her mind, she saw me in the water.

Like a magical illusion—mirrors and water, flowers and moonlight.

But her expression was quiet, a little grim.

“Xiaxia,” I called to her. “To distinguish between us, I’ll have to call you that.” I looked serious. “You don’t have much time left…”

“Hold up,” she interrupted. “Aren’t you me from five hundred years in the future? What do you mean I don’t have much time? Don’t I have at least five hundred years left?”

“Don’t interrupt. Listen.”

“Fine.” I sat cross-legged with a grave face, drew shapes in the snow with my finger, and finally explained to her the whole thing—how Xie Zhuo and I had traveled through time to sever this karmic bond.

Then I told her, “So, tomorrow, you have to save that Xie Xuanqing. No matter what happens—storms, family drama, even if the Queen Mother of the West shows up to stop you—you have to go. Go to the Snow Bamboo Forest. Save him.”

Xiaxia sat there rubbing her chin, thinking hard. “I have a question.”

She raised her hand and said, “You—that is, me—and that monster I’m meeting tomorrow… we were married for five hundred years, and we only ever held hands, kissed a bit, and… that’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“How the hell did I put up with that!? No—how did you put up with that? Do you have any idea that even in the mortal world, some places consider it grounds for divorce if a couple doesn’t live together for two years? You went five hundred years! That’s like, two hundred and fifty divorces worth! You seriously held out that long?”

I went quiet…

“What happened to you?” she asked. “Tell me. So I can be prepared. I am not walking down the same no-return path this time.”

I fell silent for a long time, then let out a weary sigh. “The only twist in your life was falling in love with a monster.”

Back then, the me who liked Xie Zhuo couldn’t understand why—not until I actually met him.

I couldn’t explain my feelings in a single sentence, but I could list countless little details.

I liked how Xie Zhuo always kept his promises—if he said he’d make me a bamboo flute, he would.

I liked the cup of water he handed me when I came home exhausted from drilling troops.

I liked the little snowman he clumsily but earnestly built for me in the courtyard during winter snow. It was the two of us—him holding my hand.

And then there were all those inexplicable little details…

Like how his hand would always find mine at the first sign of danger.

Like how his eyes stayed fixed only on my face when I spoke.

Like the slight, uncontrollable upward curve at the corner of his mouth whenever he watched me laugh.

What I liked was that Xie Xuanqing—calm, gentle, and full of strength.

But all those details were eventually worn away by five hundred years of secrecy and misunderstanding.

Now, I was too tired to care about him anymore. I didn’t even want to try to figure him out.

Whether he said it or not, whether he hid it or not—none of it made a difference anymore.

“I have one more question,” Xia Xia dutifully interrupted my wandering thoughts. “This monster you like—he hid everything from you just because speaking caused him pain?”

I went quiet…

Xia Xia kept going, “Can’t he read? Can’t he write? His hand hurts too? There’s a pufferfish spirit performing in the East Market who learned to paint with his belly. If your hand’s useless, you can write with your foot. If your body’s broken, your will should still be strong.”

I couldn’t help cursing at myself. “Xia Xia, use your brain. Did I say anywhere that he hid everything from me just because his mouth hurt when he spoke? He used to read to me until I fell asleep. If he really wanted to explain something, even if I plugged my ears, he’d find a way to pry them open and tell me. He hid things from me—not because he couldn’t tell me, but because he didn’t want to.”

“Then why didn’t he want to tell you?”

“If I knew that, would I be in this situation?”

Xia Xia thought it over and decided I had a point.

But she had another question. “That Xie Zhuo said, when he saw you cut the red string, it hurt him ten thousand times more than speaking. So he wanted to kill you?”

“Yeah. He said it hurt, so he figured if he killed me, maybe the pain would stop.”

Xia Xia cursed. “Is he crazy or something?”

“You still don’t get it? He is crazy.”

“If he’s crazy, then why do you want me to repeat your mistakes with him?” Xia Xia argued logically. “Look, I haven’t even met Xie Xuanqing yet. If Xie Zhuo wants to stop it, then let him. If I don’t meet Xie Xuanqing, we won’t get married, won’t become a resentful couple, won’t get divorced—and he won’t kill you.

Then once you return to five hundred years later, maybe you and Xie Zhuo will just be total strangers. He wouldn’t even remember wanting to kill you.”

“You’re right. But there’s another possibility.”

“What possibility?”

“Maybe he stops you two from meeting, from the blood feeding, from marrying. But when we return to five hundred years later, he still remembers me cutting his red string. The only thing that changes is me—or rather, you. This body no longer holds his blood oath.”

Xia Xia seemed shaken by the thought. “No way. If he stopped the blood feeding, there wouldn’t be a blood oath in my body—how could he still have memories from the past?”

“Who knows?” I curled my lip. “I mean, I’ve gone back in time twice and still remember everything I experienced before. If traveling through time doesn’t damage memories but only resets the physical state—then Fu Jiuxia, you and I… we’re both screwed.”

Xia Xia swallowed hard. “How likely is that?”

I shot back, “Do you want to bet on it?”

She went silent…

I concluded, “So, having Xie Xuanqing feed you his blood is the only way to keep both of us alive.”

Xia Xia thought for a moment, then resolutely shook her head. “Feeding me blood isn’t the only way to keep us alive.”

I raised a brow and looked at my past self from five hundred years ago.

I didn’t believe it. I’ve eaten five hundred more years of rice than her—she couldn’t possibly be smarter than me.

Then she spoke: “Kill Xie Zhuo. End it once and for all.”

That’s right—Xie Zhuo couldn’t kill me, but I never said I couldn’t kill him.

Xia Xia may not be smarter than me, but when it came to Xie Zhuo, she really was more ruthless than I was.

But I had to remind her: “Did you forget? This story began with a snow wolf demon holding off all the immortals of Kunlun on his own—just to steal the Pangu Axe and open the timeline.”

I asked Xia Xia, “You haven’t even passed your ascension tribulation. How are you going to kill him?”

Xia Xia thought for a bit. “Okay, let’s talk about what I should do when I meet Xie Xuanqing tomorrow.”

When it came to love, I couldn’t explain things clearly to my past self. But when it came to survival, the two of us could reach an understanding pretty quickly.

Xia Xia also emphasized to me, “This time, I only promise to secure the outcome. I will not let myself fall for him. Jiuxia.”

She called me that. “I won’t walk the same path as you.”

I gave her my blessing. “Let’s hope so.”