Round One (10)

When Shen Huai saw Shen Yu, he immediately sensed something off about his presence. A pure, unadulterated aura of a ghostly spirit clung to him, yet he remained oblivious. And when Shen Huai glimpsed the blurry shadow in the bronze mirror, he was not surprised. Truly, she deserved her reputation as a spirit with a millennium of cultivation; though she hadn’t been dispersed yesterday, today she had already reformed her shape.

Shen Huai’s fingertips twitched, but in the end, he did nothing. He returned the bronze mirror to its original place, just as it had been. He had important matters to attend to today, and the mirror’s position was crucial—there was no substitute, and he could not destroy it just yet. At worst, he would simply pay closer attention. Judging by her appearance, perhaps she could not leave the mirror. If so, his earlier judgment might have been mistaken. She was likely a mirror spirit. Only spirits born from objects were unable to freely depart from their origins.

Within the mirror, Si Jiu finally made up her mind—to try. Otherwise, she would have to watch Shen Huai stab himself in the chest and draw his own blood. Yet an opportunity was needed… she could not let Shen Huai see her. Just as she fretted, the chance presented itself. After arranging the mirror, Shen Huai apparently needed to make further preparations and left the room.

Si Jiu would not let such an opportunity slip by. She immediately emerged from the mirror, floating above “Tang You,” looking down at her. “This feels terrible,” she muttered, then closed her eyes and pressed down toward “Tang You.” Possession was a simple process—especially with an empty shell like “Tang You,” whose soul was gone. It should have been easy. Yet, Si Jiu passed straight through “Tang You’s” body, through the bed, and landed flat against the floor!

Si Jiu: “…”

She refused to believe it. Again!

Once more, she ended up on the floor.

This time, she changed direction, lying down as she tried. She lay on the floor again.

Si Jiu: “……”

Shen Huai returned. Si Jiu had no choice but to dart back into the mirror. The moment he entered, Shen Huai sensed a faint change in the room’s aura, but said nothing. He approached the canopy bed, holding a slender knife, removed his coat, and climbed onto the bed.

“Tang Tang.” He gently stroked “Tang You’s” face, his gaze incredibly tender. “You’ve waited a long time, haven’t you? It won’t be much longer.”

Was he really going to stab himself in the chest?

Si Jiu, both anxious and furious, pressed herself against the mirror, glaring at Shen Huai.

You fool. The real one is right here—you nearly dispersed her! Yet you are about to calmly stab yourself for this impostor! Idiot! Fool!

Shen Huai paused. The mirror spirit was pressed against the glass, spinning in circles—what was she doing? Trying to interfere? But time was running out. Shen Huai steadied himself, raised the knife, and cut his own wrist, feeding the blood to “Tang You.”

“Eat first,” he said.

Si Jiu: “……”

Now she knew where the smell of blood in this room came from.

Next, Shen Huai tossed the knife aside and pressed two fingers together on his right hand. The room’s aura began to stir violently, a real storm of chilling winds.

His face grew ever paler, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. Then a line of blood appeared from his left chest, flowed down his arm to his fingertips, and in the blink of an eye, coalesced into a crimson bead at his fingertip. A purer, blazing yang energy emanated from this drop of heart’s blood.

Si Jiu was struck with a momentary dizziness.

Shen Huai then fed this precious drop to “Tang You.” The room’s aura, as if battered by an unseen tempest, soon calmed.

“Tang You, wake up.”

His low, hoarse voice carried an indescribable solemnity.

Shen Huai stared unblinkingly at “Tang You,” holding his breath from the start, his fingers gradually curling tighter and tighter.

So it was useless after all?

What am I to do?

Why… can’t I find your spirit?

Could it be… that when you died, you truly vanished?

“No. You’re only sleeping. You’ll wake… you will wake.”

He murmured, lost and desolate, all color drained from his face.

Even after hundreds of failures… he still found the disappointment unbearable.

He curled himself beside “Tang You,” his gaze weary and desolate.

Si Jiu watched him from within the mirror, silent and unmoving.

The entire night passed.