Chapter Four: Lost Memories

Huan Qianyin was meditating. In this world where strength spoke for everything, cultivation determined your status. It was true—if those with lower cultivation were killed by those stronger, no one would intervene. You could only blame yourself for being weak.

Let alone being the head of a sect herself. As a cultivator at the Nascent Soul stage, she was neither the strongest nor the weakest—a middling existence. Yet, she had only been cultivating for a hundred and twenty years, though the outside world believed it to be three hundred. She did not wish other sects to grow wary; otherwise, her path would only become more difficult.

Currently, her cultivation was at the mid-Nascent Soul stage. If she pushed a little harder, she would break through. Work harder, harder…

Suddenly, a crack split the void, and from within emerged a golden talisman.

“Oh? What’s happened for them to use a voice transmission talisman?”

With a tap of her finger, the golden charm dissolved. “Sect Leader, something’s happened to the little girl. Please come quickly.”

“Xiao Bing? Has that little girl run into trouble?” Huan Qianyin immediately stood and strode forward, covering dozens of meters in a single step.

The art of Shrinking the Ground!

As soon as she entered the secluded chamber, the stifling heat was palpable. She saw the young girl, her entire body flushed red, lying on the ice bed, and beside her, Murong Bing’s face was etched with worry.

“What happened?” she asked.

Murong Bing was startled by her sect leader’s voice and replied anxiously, “Sect Leader, I don’t know what happened. I was meditating, and she just became like this.”

Huan Qianyin frowned. Even the millennium-old ice bed could not suppress this heat—other than the Infernal Black Flame from the abyss of hell, she could think of no other fire like it.

Within the girl’s body clearly burned a mysterious flame. If this was not stopped, her organs would soon be reduced to ash.

“Drink!” Huan Qianyin pressed two fingers together and channeled her true energy into the little girl. At first, it flowed smoothly through her meridians, but as soon as it reached her core, it was blocked. No matter how much true energy she poured in, it was useless.

Withdrawing her energy, Huan Qianyin’s frown deepened. This was beyond what she had imagined.

The Xuanyin Sect was not like the Daoist sects; they did not practice ice-based techniques. Their sect was entirely female and followed the path of using music as proof of the Dao, slaying their enemies with sound.

So, all their arts were related to music. In Xia Yu’s case, even the ice bed could not suppress the heat—how could their sect’s arts hope to help?

“Ah—!” Xia Yu, struggling desperately, let out a miserable scream. Flames burst from her body, and blue veins shimmered beneath her fair skin.

Huan Qianyin’s eyes widened in surprise. She sensed something different: this child was not suffering from demonic fire but seemed to be having her meridians washed by some mysterious force.

In this vast world, there was nothing too strange to happen. Perhaps this was her destined opportunity.

Murong Bing, her cultivation far lower, had not noticed Xia Yu’s true condition. She was deeply anxious; this little girl was a rare talent, the kind that would be fought over by many sects.

She looked at Huan Qianyin, her brows knitted with worry. “Sect Leader, what should we do?”

Huan Qianyin waved her hand calmly. “Don’t panic. This girl is purifying the impurities in her body. This is a good thing.”

“What?” Murong Bing’s mouth fell open in disbelief. What did this mean? A mortal with no cultivation was cleansing her own body and meridians? Could she possibly possess some rare treasure?

Huan Qianyin could see her thoughts. Having known Murong Bing for years, she trusted her character and was sure she would never harm a fellow disciple or steal some priceless artifact.

“This time, we are fortunate. If she does not perish along the way, our Xuanyin Sect will surely regain its former glory, as it was a thousand years ago.” A rare trace of a smile appeared on Huan Qianyin’s usually cold face, stunning Murong Bing, for the sect leader had not smiled in a long time.

“Congratulations, Sect Leader! At last, our Xuanyin Sect has a glimmer of hope,” Murong Bing said excitedly.

“However, to prevent any unforeseen circumstances, no one else must know of this matter,” Huan Qianyin said, her gaze sharp as a blade. Both women understood her meaning.

“Yes,” Murong Bing replied respectfully, bowing low.

Xia Yu did not know how much time had passed. She felt as if her body had become a blazing furnace, burning fiercely. The chill she once felt was gone, leaving only heat.

A few days later,

Huan Qianyin settled Xia Yu into the Music Pavilion—a place reserved for personal disciples. It was clear she intended to make Xia Yu the sect’s heir.

Since Xia Yu had not yet awakened, the formal ceremony could not be held. But Huan Qianyin did not make much fuss, and with their sect’s small numbers, no one noticed Xia Yu’s presence.

One day, while Huan Qianyin was meditating in her bedchamber, Murong Bing burst in, flustered. “Sect Leader, the little girl is awake!”

……

Huan Qianyin did not answer, merely fixed her with a glare. The atmosphere grew tense and strange.

“Did I do something wrong?” Murong Bing shrank back, asking timidly.

Huan Qianyin rose, her voice icy. “Your shout nearly disrupted my cultivation and drove me into madness.”

……

Head bowed, Murong Bing followed Huan Qianyin in silence, her face full of remorse as they hurried to the Music Pavilion.

Her punishment was a month of weeding in the medicine garden…

Xia Yu looked around the unfamiliar room. The tables and chairs were carved from fine sandalwood, each adorned with delicate patterns, exuding a gentle feminine grace.

She lay on a nanmu bed, with blue curtains neatly hanging at its sides, and a gauzy blue drape floating above—so ethereal it was as if she slept in a fairyland.

“Antiques!” Xia Yu’s eyes sparkled as she stroked the bed’s edge, breathed on it, wiped it, and knocked to test its hardness.

The nanmu bed was beautifully crafted, full of luxury.

“If only I could bring this home,” Xia Yu said happily as she caressed the headboard.

“Home? Where is my home?” Confusion clouded her mind; she could not recall where her home was.

“And… who am I?” In another instant, she could not even remember her own name.

Frustrated, Xia Yu scratched her head. Her mind was blank, her past a vague, inaccessible fog.

“Why can’t I remember anything? Have I lost my memory?”

She stared into the void, her gaze growing distant, as if her soul drifted to another world.

Crack.

A sound echoed in the air, as if something had snapped. Suddenly, a stabbing pain shot through her head.

“Ah—! It hurts!” Xia Yu clutched her head, moaning in agony.

[Ding~ Idol System at your service. I am Le’er, the system sprite. Greetings, host!]

Strangely, as soon as this voice sounded, the pain in her mind faded away, leaving Xia Yu puzzled.

“Who are you?” she asked, rubbing her forehead.

[I am Le’er, the sprite of the Idol System. My mission is to help you. Come, let the world cheer for us!]