Chapter 115

As the incarnation of the Heavenly Dao, Luo Han could activate divine sight at will. Illusions held no real power over her—it was like brandishing a wooden sword before a real one.
But she decided to humor them for now. The children had worked hard to spin this illusion; it wouldn’t hurt to see what kind of dream they’d tried to weave.
Mist swirled above the flowers as Luo Han lifted her skirts and pushed forward through the blossoms. Suddenly, a familiar voice called behind her: “Luo Han!”
She turned. Ye Zinan stood there, looking anxious. “Where’s Ling Qingxiao? It’s dangerous here. Come with me!”
Luo Han sighed, completely unamused. “Ye Zinan is a slippery coward who always runs faster than anyone when trouble hits. He’d trip me to escape, not rescue me. There’s no way he’d come charging to save me.”
As her voice fell, the smile on Ye Zinan’s face froze. Then, like a soap bubble, he dissolved into mist. The fog thickened, swirling around her until even her own hand became a blur in front of her face.
She kept walking. Time passed—she didn’t know how long—and then suddenly, she saw someone ahead.
It was Ling Qingxiao. He clutched his chest, panting. When he looked up, there was something strange in his eyes, a flicker of obsession.
“Luo Han,” he rasped. “Is it really you?”
His tone, his expression, his form—all perfectly mimicked Ling Qingxiao. But Luo Han didn’t move. She simply asked calmly, “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a seductive toxin in the Zixing Flowers,” he said, voice low, eyes glowing with a feverish madness. “Come help me. Remove the poison...please.”
Luo Han studied him, then smiled. “You’re very good at imitating him. But you’re not him.”
The fake Ling Qingxiao faltered. “Why not?”
She didn’t bother to explain.
With a single wave of her hand, the illusion crumbled—him, the mist, the dreamlike haze—all of it scattered to wind. She now stood in a field of glowing violet, under a brilliant moon. The silver-dusted sand sparkled like stars fallen to earth, waves lapping like the breath of the sea.
No challenge at all.
She turned and found a soft patch of grass to sit on. Best to wait for the others to emerge.
The sea of flowers still teemed with mist—wherever there was fog, someone was trapped inside a dream. She counted at least ten such plumes. It was hard to tell who they were, but it wasn’t difficult to guess: anyone who’d stepped into the flower field earlier was now facing their inner demons.
Luo Han scoffed at the illusion’s simplicity—but in truth, the illusion caster found her far more troublesome.
Illusions were spun from the threads of a person’s heart—what they yearned for most, or what they most feared. And at the root of every heart...were parents, childhood, lovers, mentors.
Luo Han had no parents. That alone gave her a head start over most.
Her childhood was spent in another world—not one of wealth or prestige, but one where school and society protected her well. She had no shadows clinging to her youth. As for her adoptive parents...no matter how powerful the illusion weaver was, they couldn’t recreate an entire world’s Heavenly Dao. Those from lower dimensions simply couldn’t perceive higher ones.
With no childhood trauma to exploit, the illusion’s room to maneuver was limited. The only variable that could disturb Luo Han’s clarity was Ling Qingxiao. Yet even then, she immediately recognized the one standing before her as a fake.
Ling Qingxiao? Falling prey to seductive toxins? Swayed by desire?
Ridiculous. That man had no carnal needs—only cold, calculated plans.
Luo Han sat quietly for a while until Zou Jibai emerged from the mist. She’d expected her companions to overcome their illusions eventually, but seeing Zou Jibai as the second to escape still surprised her.
“You’re out already?” she asked. “How was it?”
Zou Jibai plopped down beside her. “Too easy.”
Luo Han nodded enthusiastically. “Right? I thought so too! What did you see?”
“My mother, my master...some clansmen,” Zou Jibai replied with a scoff. “Then, of all things, a woman appeared, said she was my fated partner, begged me to stay and spend eternity with her. What nonsense. I don’t even have a partner—why would I stay?”
Luo Han couldn’t help the snort that escaped her, but quickly held it in. “I’m not laughing. I’m complimenting you.”
Zou Jibai had lived a straightforward life. His clan was full of stubborn, upright fools. His heart was clear, free of shadows. And truth be told, staying single did save him about 80% of the emotional burden. Even passing through illusions was easier.
Not long after, Feng Yujia and Ye Zinan emerged in succession. Feng Yujia had just undergone nirvana, made peace with her mother and brother, and erased the demons from her heart—no illusion could entrap her again. As for Ye Zinan, after living a hundred thousand years, he’d seen more than his share of illusions. No matter how pathetic he acted at times, he wasn’t about to fall for one.
Once they saw Luo Han and Zou Jibai, both came over immediately. After a quick exchange, all four agreed on one thing:
This illusion was child’s play.
Ye Zinan glanced around and suddenly asked, “Hey...where’s Ling Qingxiao? He should’ve come out by now, shouldn’t he?”
Luo Han had been wondering the same. She thought for a moment, then said, “He must’ve discovered something in the illusion. That’s why he stayed behind.”
Ye Zinan nodded earnestly. “Makes sense. His foundation is solid, and his goals are clear. If this illusion can trap anyone, it won’t be him. He’s probably handling something on his own.”
Everyone agreed. It sounded perfectly reasonable.
They waited a little longer, until the thickest fog in the flower sea suddenly froze—then shattered like glass. Luo Han shot to her feet in an instant. “Ling Qingxiao?”
Ling Qingxiao stood where the mist had been, slow to respond even after hearing her voice. When he finally turned, there was something strange in his eyes.
Luo Han didn’t notice. She lifted her skirt and hurried to him. “Are you okay? Did you find something in the illusion?”
Ling Qingxiao wasn’t fully out of it yet. When he saw the real Luo Han, his gaze flickered—then he looked away, avoiding her eyes.
If illusions were reflections of the heart...then he needed to take a long, hard look at himself.
What on earth was I thinking?
It was hard to even say out loud—he had seen Luo Han bathing, healing her wounds in a pool, steam veiling her pale skin, robes slipping from her shoulders. Her eyes had been pure, innocent. She’d asked him to help her heal.
And the scene...it had taken place in a tower—there were spirit-restraining chains hanging in the background. He didn’t need to ask whose power they were meant to seal.
Ling Qingxiao had known it wasn’t real. And yet, like a man possessed, he’d stayed caught in that illusion far longer than he should’ve. In the end, he’d had to forcibly destroy the illusion to escape.
By now, Luo Han had reached him. Seeing him dazed, she shook his arm gently. “What is it? What did you see?”
Ling Qingxiao snapped out of it. The moment he looked down, he was met with those clear, trusting eyes—identical to the ones from the illusion. He quickly averted his gaze. “It’s nothing. I was just...thinking.”
“Really?” Luo Han tilted her head. He was acting a little strange, but she didn’t press. Still leaning comfortably beside him, she said, “That illusion was ridiculously simple, right? Why did you take so long to get out—did something happen in there?”
Ling Qingxiao pressed his fingers to his temple, at a loss for words.
Luo Han took his silence as confirmation. “I knew it. There’s no way you’d fail to tell dream from reality. If you stayed in that long, you must’ve had your own reasons.”
The truth was...he’d almost failed to come out at all. But how could he say that?
Changing the subject, he asked, “Where are the others?”
“Already out. We were all waiting for you.”
…Another dagger to the heart.
Ling Qingxiao took her hand, leading her gently through the flowers. “That’s good. Where’s the King of Dongsha? I need to speak with him.”
Luo Han glanced around. “Still in there, I think.”
Ling Qingxiao’s expression turned cold. He was in a foul mood, and others would only suffer for it.
The illusions conjured by the Zixing Flowers were meant to offer insight, to help one face the truth of their heart—not to trap or harm. For the King of Dongsha to use this opportunity for something more...sinister—he was either plotting something, or someone was plotting him.
The man had ruled a kingdom. He couldn’t be naive enough to think such a shallow illusion could ensnare an immortal. Most likely, he’d fallen into someone else’s trap.
There were still scattered pockets of mist within the flower field. Ling Qingxiao raised a sleeve—and swept them all away in an instant.
The fog parted. The King of Dongsha reappeared, frozen in place within the blossoms. And in front of him—a merman, blade in hand, mid-thrust toward the king’s heart.
The illusion vanished. The truth stood revealed.
The King’s eyes cleared. Realizing what was happening, he let out a roar of fury and struck forward with all his might.
The merman had relied entirely on the illusion to cover his actions. In truth, his cultivation was far beneath that of the King. Now that the illusion had shattered, he stood no chance. The King struck him squarely in the chest with a single palm. The merman coughed up blood and was flung far across the flower field.
Still pale from the close call, the King slowly regained his composure and cupped his hands toward Ling Qingxiao. “Many thanks, Immortal Lord, for saving my life.”
Ling Qingxiao’s voice was cold. “I didn’t save you. I simply refuse to be anyone’s pawn.”
The blooming of the Zixing Flowers was a known event, with a fixed cycle. Ling Qingxiao and Luo Han had arrived today without notice. There was no way anyone could’ve anticipated their movements. That meant the trap set within the illusion was never meant for them—it was prepared specifically for the King of Dongsha.
Their sudden arrival must have disrupted someone’s scheme. But even so, that merman had no business trying to entangle Ling Qingxiao in it.
Had the assassination succeeded, who would’ve taken the blame?
The King, now fully realizing the depth of the danger he’d just escaped, broke into a cold sweat. Fury surged within him. “Men! Seize that merman!”
The merman was of the ocean clans, and the kingdoms of the Silver Sand Archipelago lived upon scattered islands. The sea’s resources were limited—if one kingdom overfished, others went hungry. Tensions with the ocean tribes had long run deep. Mermen hunted lone travelers; humans hunted mermen in groups.
At the King’s command, a host of armored guards stormed into the garden, blades drawn, surrounding the merman in an instant. They had slain many of his kind before and wasted no courtesy. Their swords flashed, pressing cold steel against his throat.
This merman had only recently taken on human form. He still looked like a young boy, pale blue scales lingering faintly on his cheeks. Refusing capture, he lashed out with jets of water—but in the five elements, water was the softest, weakest force. What could waves do against honed steel?
He quickly faltered. Knocked to the ground, he lay sprawled, a sword poised to fall upon him.
Just then, a piercing scream shattered the stillness. The Queen broke free from her attendants and stumbled toward the guards, crying out, “Stop!”
She had gone pale the moment she saw the merman, but with everyone focused on capturing him, no one noticed her reaction. Her closest maid had clutched her sleeve, trying to restrain her. Now, with the merman surrounded and bloodied, the Queen could bear it no longer. She burst from the crowd, eyes brimming with panic.
The King was caught completely off guard. His face darkened. “Yanran, what are you doing?!”
The soldiers froze at the Queen’s cry, uncertain what to do. In that hesitation, she pushed past them, collapsing to her knees before the merman. Her voice trembled as she whispered, “Why did you come back? I told you—don’t look for me again. You should’ve returned to your homeland, never to appear again.”
Luo Han watched all this unfold and gave a soft, meaningful “oh” in her mind. She turned to glance at the King, lips curved in faint amusement.
As expected, the King’s expression was as black as thunder.
The full truth wasn’t yet clear, but from the Queen’s words alone, it wasn’t hard to guess. While the King had filled his palace with beautiful consorts, it seemed the Queen...had found someone else.
The merman’s eyes lit up the moment he saw her. Even with blades at his throat, he hadn’t shown a flicker of emotion. But now, seeing her face—his gaze softened at once.
He raised a clawed hand and gently touched her cheek. “Why wouldn’t you see me? I was the one who saved you. And yet you never recognized me...You married another. You live in misery beside him. Why not leave with me?”
The Queen was already in tears. “I didn’t know. When I woke up, he was the one I saw. I’ve believed all these years that it was he who saved me. I...I’m sorry...I truly didn’t know…”
Author’s Note:
Luo Han & the others: “Ling Qingxiao is so powerful—of course the illusion wouldn’t trap him. If he stayed in, it must be because he had a secret plan!”
Ling Qingxiao: “…”