Chapter 15: Seeing Is Not Believing

The smoke of war seemed to be gently smoothed away by an invisible hand, gradually dissipating across the vast battlefield, revealing its true face: a scene of utter devastation, where shattered walls and scorched earth intertwined. The once bustling battlefield now lay eerily silent, evoking a chilling stillness.

The sunset bled crimson, casting its slanting rays over the ruins, draping this land of death in a tragic red veil. In the distance, two figures lay quietly on the cold ground, like statues merging seamlessly with the surrounding silence.

Their tattered clothes fluttered in the breeze, as if whispering tales of the fierce battle they had endured.

Ye Heng lay sprawled, his body weak, yet an unexpected smile of relief graced his face. Even I, the narrator, could not comprehend the reason behind his smile—could it be the feeling of dying and yet coming back to life?

In contrast, Ailu’s condition was dire. Her armor was shattered, her wounds grievous, barely clinging to life. She glanced at Ye Heng out of the corner of her eye, a mixture of doubt and subtle respect flickering within. Her heart stirred, a faint curve tugging at her lips, as if responding delicately to Ye Heng’s extraordinary resilience and mysterious power. Then, she spoke softly, tinged with confusion and helplessness: “I still don’t understand. You’re a Class B Martial God—how did you withstand my full-strength ‘Raging Flame Extinguish’ and escape unscathed?”

Ye Heng replied, “You really want to know?”

Ailu hesitated, then shook her head with a trace of relief. “Never mind. It’s pointless. I’ve already proven your strength. Hah... that’s enough.”

Ye Heng looked into Ailu’s eyes, reflecting complex emotions, and felt a twinge of pain. He lowered his voice, somewhat embarrassed, and said, “Actually, the one who faced your ultimate technique was only a clone of mine, a fusion of lightning and light powers. The so-called flaw was deliberately created.”

“You...” Ailu was at a loss for words, a frustration silently building within her chest, leaving her speechless.

Ye Heng felt a pang as he watched her, but steeled himself and gently asked, “Are you alright?”

Ailu remained silent, unwilling to answer. Ye Heng respected her reticence, knowing well that everyone harbors secrets best left unprobed. Digging too deeply could invite trouble, and often yield nothing but silence.

Yet, recalling the fierce combat, Ye Heng’s curiosity gnawed at him. He had noticed Ailu holding back whenever she attacked Aixi. Each time her strikes neared Aixi, she would deliberately lessen her force and Martial God power, as if unwilling to truly harm her.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Ye Heng finally asked in a low voice, “Why do you always hold back your power when attacking Aixi?”

Ailu slowly closed her eyes and sighed deeply, as if sinking into distant memories. After a long pause, she said coldly, “Why should I tell you? Who do you think you are?”

Ye Heng was unfazed by her coldness. He scoffed, “Hmph, facing death and still playing mysterious, pretending to be tough.”

Ailu’s eyes snapped open, flashing with anger, but quickly calmed again.

She bit her lip, as if after struggle, making a decision. Her tone softened slightly. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But this secret is only for you. I’m afraid... my little sister couldn’t bear the truth.”

A smirk curled on Ye Heng’s lips, dismissive. “Hah... what’s so hard to accept about that?” His carefree attitude betrayed no concern for what was to come.

Seeing this, Ailu’s expression turned grave as she stared into Ye Heng’s eyes and asked earnestly, “Will you promise? If not, I won’t say a word.”

Ye Heng’s curiosity was fully aroused. Without hesitation, he blurted, “Fine, fine, I promise!” waving his hand as if it were a trivial matter.

Then, as if recalling something, he added confidently, “A gentleman’s word is his bond! Since I promised, I’ll keep it!” His every word carried the weight of ironclad conviction.

Ailu opened her eyes slowly, a thick veil of weariness and helplessness clouding them. She struggled to turn her gaze toward Ye Heng, a faint, bitter smile touching her lips—like a frost-bitten flower, fragile and poignant.

Ye Heng stared back, his eyes deep and turbulent, flickering with indescribable feelings—surprise, doubt, and pity intertwined.

After a long silence, Ailu seemed to summon all her strength to shatter the suffocating stillness. Her voice was low and hoarse, as if echoing from the depths of a remote valley, each word laden with the weight of a sorrowful past.

“In truth, my little sister and I are not blood siblings,” she began slowly, each syllable heavy with history.

Ye Heng furrowed his brow, unprepared for such a twist. He watched her silently, waiting for more.

Ailu took a deep breath and continued, “We were orphans, disciples under Master Lumixi—her most favored students and the only three disciples she had. Back then, we were young, full of hope and dreams for the future. But war shattered those dreams, forcing us to face harsh realities. We met amidst the flames of battle. Aixi, my younger sister by five years, was born during the Battle of Yushan Pass. Though Master won the day, she was left gravely ill. I watched the infant in Master’s arms—a rosy-cheeked baby, so adorable, silent and calm as she looked at me.”

“She was truly, truly adorable,” Ailu whispered, her voice barely above a breath, as if afraid to disturb some fragile memory. Her gaze softened and warmed, like the gentlest spring breeze brushing through the heart.

In that moment, she was wholly immersed in that distant memory, her thoughts drifting to a misty dawn when sunlight first pierced the lingering smoke, cloaking the battlefield in a dreamlike veil of gold.

Lumixi stood there, dressed in white like an angel, radiant and pure. She cradled the sleeping infant with closed eyes. Ailu ran over, gently stroking the baby’s cheek, her eyes filled with love and tenderness.

Ye Heng listened quietly, a wave of warmth rising within him. He saw in Ailu’s gaze the gentle strength of an older sister and could almost picture that morning. He sighed softly, releasing some of his own helplessness.

“The world rises and falls, and through it all, the people suffer; whether the realm flourishes or perishes, the people endure hardship. War plunges the common folk into fire and water. Only peace can bring prosperity—but such peace is elusive.”

Ailu’s gentle eyes rested on Ye Heng’s face, a sincere gratitude flickering within. She knew he was a steadfast ally. A faint smile traced her lips as she continued, “Yes, she truly was an angelic little one. At that moment, our hearts united—we swore to protect her, to let her bloom in love and freedom, growing into a carefree girl with a constant smile. So Master named her ‘Aixi,’ meaning a light of hope, so that wherever she goes, her heart remains full of dreams and expectations, never shackled by this unjust chaotic world.”

“That fateful, harrowing Battle of Yushan Pass marked the irreversible countdown in Master’s life,” Ailu’s voice tinged with subtle sorrow, yet underscored by resilience and acceptance.

Her tone grew heavy, as a cold wind seemed to sweep away the warmth of the moment. Her beautiful eyes reddened, tears shimmering dangerously at their edges, threatening to spill over.

She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, as if drawing all the world’s peace into her lungs to calm the tempest raging within.

Yet despite her effort, her trembling voice flowed out like a breaking dam, an endless torrent of grief, each word weighted with unbearable sorrow, faintly tinged with heartbreaking sobs.

“Master was already frail, and the ravages of war left her life hanging by a thread. We spared no effort to find doctors and remedies, but to no avail. Watching her grow thinner each day, we were helpless. At that time, my little sister was just a child, unaware of anything, smiling innocently every day. We couldn’t bear for her to see Master’s suffering, so we cried in secret behind her back.”

“Though Master grew weaker, she insisted on watching us train whenever she could. We thought the victory at Yushan Pass would halt the attacks of the supernatural beasts, but none foresaw that within twelve years, they would strike again.” Ailu’s voice trembled with sorrow and pain as she closed her eyes, recalling the brutal scene.

“The later battle—Yushan Pass awaited reinforcements with hope, believing their arrival would secure this vital stronghold. Yet fate played a cruel joke. While they fought desperately, a shocking betrayal occurred—Huang Wu turned traitor! At the same time, an even more terrifying foe descended upon Yushan Pass. Though the soldiers fought bravely, they were vastly outnumbered and overwhelmed by the relentless assault. In the end, Yushan Pass fell to the enemy...”

“If not for Huang Wu’s treachery delaying the reinforcements, and the enemy’s overwhelming strength, even our master, skilled and wise as he was, could not have turned the tide. In that brutal battle, he fell on the field. To this day, I remember clearly: Master holding his body, grief-stricken beyond words, and then resolutely choosing to die with him... That scene is etched into my heart like a searing blade, unforgettable for life.”

“You... what do you mean? Did I hear wrongly? Was the fall of Senior Lumixi caused by you?”

Ye Heng felt as if plunged into an icy abyss; a bone-chilling cold surged from his feet to his whole body, leaving him shivering in disbelief.

Ailu quietly met Ye Heng’s horrified and incredulous gaze, a tangle of emotions stirring within. She had anticipated his strong reaction, for the truth behind this was astonishing. Yet precisely because of this, she resolved to reveal everything now.

“I... I did not lie.”

She sighed softly. “Fine, if you don’t believe me, so be it. The truth remains the truth, unchangeable. But...”

“Alas, so much time has passed that I almost forget who I once was. How I long for those days. If I had not chosen this path, perhaps I could lie down quietly now, and calmly share these buried secrets with someone else.”

A faint smile touched her lips, mingling nostalgia for the past with resignation to the present.

On the horizon, the first ray of sunlight, like nature’s most delicate brushstroke, slipped through the layered clouds, casting its light upon Ailu’s face.

At that moment, a sudden clarity flashed in Ye Heng’s eyes. As if piercing through the fog, all the tangled clues and twists converged into a clear vision. He fully understood every detail and event.

Ailu lay quietly beside Ye Heng, soft strands of hair resting on his shoulder like the purest ink at night or the gentlest silk in the morning breeze. Under the caress of dawn’s light, faint silver strands shimmered subtly.

They whispered silently of time’s ceaseless flow, eyes deep and complex, steeped in tender memories of warm, bygone days—like treasured old photographs, warm and faded—and harboring quiet hopes for the uncertain tomorrow, like the first bloom of dawn, fresh and full of promise.

This intricate, delicate blend of emotions intoxicated the soul and stirred deep resonance within the heart.